こちらあみ子 (ちくま文庫)

Amiko lives in a world cut off from meaningful connections with others. She is surrounded by things that are “fun” and “cheerful,” and always seems very happy. The author’s writing style is deliberately simple and gentle, reminiscent of a children’s novel. The vocabulary used in the text is also exclusively cute and extremely simple. This is because the story is depicted from a perspective close to her own—she has a mild intellectual disability and is much like a kindergarten child. However, the reason she appears happy is that she herself is completely incapable of perceiving malice or sadness; in reality, her life is filled with immense tragedy. Contempt from those around her, her mother’s miscarriage, her mother’s depression caused by her, her father’s neglect, and her older brother, who turned to a life of delinquency because he couldn’t bear the situation. With more than enough factors to cause a family breakdown, her family ultimately collapses without mercy, and the family is torn apart. Unable to even grasp the fact that her family has fallen apart, her world continues on as if nothing has changed. A boy appears partway through the story, but since he is outside Amiko’s sphere of interest, she cannot remember him at all. Yet his approach to Amiko was likely the most appropriate one. He responded lightly, without excluding her, accepting her simply as an “interesting girl.” As a reader, I found a glimmer of hope in his attitude, but she showed not the slightest interest in him—the one who held the potential to stop the ruin—and was instead drawn to a boy with “normal” sensibilities, only to be soundly rejected. Accepting an outsider thrust into a harmonious community and building a new harmony—isn’t that an infinitely difficult task? After all, we tend to dislike anything that disrupts the smooth flow and comfort of our lives. Yet this work implies that the result is greater division and tragedy for both sides. As a member of the masses, I want to pay the utmost attention to taking the smoothness of my own life for granted and resting contentedly in it.