Butter by Asako Yuzuki, trans. by Polly Barton
“When I'm eating good butter I feel somehow as though I were falling.”
Asako Yuzuki’s bestselling novel Butter is not a new book, but in the west it’s gaining a second wave of fans. Originally published in Japan in 2017, Butter went on to receive a nomination for the 157th Naoki Prize. However, this isn’t Yuzuki’s first nomination. She has received several nominations for her various works, four of which have been adapted into television series. Since her 2010 debut with a collection of interconnected stories Shūten No Ano Ko, Yuzuki’s work has always featured diverse and powerful female voices.
The first English translation of Butter by Polly Barton was published in February this year. More than a simple thriller, Butter masters something more critical and sinister as Yuzuki brings to light the issue of unrealistic beauty standards for women in Japan and prevailing fatphobia around the world.
The novel follows Rika, an over-worked, under-paid and malnourished journalist trying to live up to conflicting societal expectations that crush her and the women around her. The working mothers in the office are seen as a hindrance, but people still wonder why Rika hasn’t settled down. She mustn’t put on weight, but her body is too ‘boy-ish’ to be objectively attractive. Her mother takes care of her own aging father who returns no love for her, and while she never asks Rika for help, she always finds a way to remind her that she was a single working mother when Rika’s father died. The few times Rika does eat, it’s a quick meal from a convenience store but when she tries to make an effort to cook for her on-again, off-again boyfriend he shuts down at the idea of such intimacy.
Sent on various assignments for a glorified gossip magazine, Rika’s life takes a turn when the convicted serial killer and food blogger Manako Kajii is due for a re-trial. Something takes hold of Rika and draws her to the Tokyo Detention Centre, and she becomes determined to get the first, exclusive interview with the infamous and illusive killer. It all begins with a suggestion from her best friend Reiko: a former PR powerhouse turned stay-at-home wife focused on starting a family. Her idea is to mail Kajii a simple request – the recipe for the meal her last victim ate before she killed him.
“Apparently right before the victim died he sent a text to his mother. ‘My girlfriend made me a beef stew! It was delicious.’ Remember the argument of Kajii’s lawyer in court: would a woman who’d spent all that time cooking up a delicious beef stew for her lover really push that same man in front of a train? … Women who love to cook are so delighted when someone asks them for a recipe that they’ll tell you all kinds of things you haven’t asked for along with it. It’s a law of nature. I’m exactly the same.”
The magnitude of Kajii’s character is inspired by the real Konkatsu Killer, Kanae Kijima, who was convicted of killing three would-be husbands – and suspected of killing several other men – from 2007 to 2009.
After making contact, Rika tries to maintain control while still earning Kajii’s trust. To do so, she returns again and again to understand Kajii’s crusade to appease men, while still loathing them. Kajii begins to suck these women into her world despite being trapped behind plated glass. Doling tasks out to Rika like sermons, Kajii encourages her to cook the dishes from her blog after shying away from the kitchen for many years. Kajii makes Rika trace her steps across restaurants and report back like an obedient child. It begins to feel as if Kajii is draining the life-force out of Rika, Reiko and other women around her.
“‘There’s a particular ramen restaurant on Yasukuni-dori in Shinjuku. I would like you to eat their butter ramen and provide me with an accurate description of its taste. In your own words as always.’
Rika had heard of the place – it was one of the few ramen restaurants from the northern Tohoku region of Japan that had opened up branches across the country. The mission appeared suspiciously simple.
‘Eaten in normal circumstances, their ramen isn’t particularly outstanding. In order to make it delicious, a specific condition must be fulfilled’. Kajii paused, taking Rika in with her black-grape eyes. ‘You have to consume it immediately after having sex. At three or four in the morning. The colder the weather the better. This is the perfect season.”
As Rika’s adoration for Kajii swells like rising bread, she rapidly gains weight while Reiko seems to slowly disappear like sugar dissolving in water. Rika straddles the edge of self-enlightenment and self-destruction as she goes on her own journey of discovery.
“The first thing Rika felt was a strange breeze emanating from the back of her throat. The cold butter first met the roof of her mouth with a chilly sensation, contrasting with the steaming rice in both texture and temperature. The cool butter clashed against her teeth, and she felt its soft texture right down into their roots. Soon enough, just as Kajii had said, the melted butter began to surge through the individual grains of rice. It was a taste that could only be described as golden. A shining golden wave, with an astounding depth of flavour and a faint yet full and rounded aroma, wrapped itself around the rice and washed Rika's body far away. It was, indeed, a lot like falling.”
Reading Yuzuki’s descriptions of food through the eyes of someone who turned their back on it long ago is a meal all in its own. These descriptions offer a brief reprieve from the deep well we follow Rika into.
“The next course to be served was a chilled dish of avocado and snow crab stacked delicately like layer cake, topped with a generous helping of caviar. The acidity of the pomegranate seeds that exploded juicily in her mouth accentuated the creamy richness of the avocado and the sweetness of the crab flesh. Their unabashed scarlet hue brought the colour palette of the whole plate to life. Chased by the champagne, the taste of the crab and caviar expanded like light suffusing her mouth.”
When Rika and Reiko’s friendship slowly splits apart, they also skim closer and closer to the origins of Kajii’s alleged crimes. With an uncomfortable jolt, everything is thrown sideways. Kajii’s trance-like grip loosens and truths bubble to the surface.
Beneath the terrors of this electrifying story are the even more terrifying comparisons of Japanese beauty standards. The insults thrown at Kajii about her weight, moreso than her alleged murders, almost make you feel sorry for her – almost. Seeing how Rika’s rapid weight gain changes the way men and women alike treat her made me reflexively grip my own stomach without realising it – reminding me of my own memories and insecurities we all constantly work to change.
“She didn’t utterly dislike her new physique. When she was in the bath and her eyes fell on her naked thighs and stomach, glistening and gleaming as if lit from the inside, speckled with beads of water, she found herself staring at her own body as if she were eyeing up a slab of Echirè butter. Maybe, if she weren’t receiving so much criticism from the people around her, she would be fine with the way she looked. The budget examiner’s fawning attitude as he tried to cosy up to her flipped the moment that Rika brushed his hand away. ‘Think you can still put on airs now that you’re fat like a pig?’ he spat out.”
The invasive nature of the male gaze is unfortunately familiar, but in this book we also see the complexity of female friendships. When Reiko and Rika’s friendship starts to fray, we feel the rips and tears too. The same harsh words uttered from another woman, especially a friend, are more damaging than a thousand anonymous men online clamouring to hurt you. Discovering Rika’s past and following Reiko’s future reminds us to be gentle with our relationships to people and food.
“Rika knew that to get herself out of this place, she had to traverse the bewilderingly long path towards the light. To do so, she had to line up the lowest hurdles she could find, and jump them. Starting by calling upon the people she felt able to call on.”
Reading might be a solitary activity, but the power books have to help us connect with people we care about is infinite. As an expat living in Japan, recognising real locations, train stations and restaurants sparks a small but precious joy, and makes the book feel just that little more real. You can easily find dozens of the venues mentioned (and perhaps work out some context clues to identify others), and I encourage you to do so.
Whether you are a foodie or not, this book will have you salivating.
Meredith McLean is a writer and English teacher. Between ten years’ experience in marketing and lifestyle magazine publishing, she tries to find time to use her qualifications in viticulture, and occasionally plays the drums at very forgiving local bars. Her poetry and reviews have been published in various online magazines. She resides in a shoebox apartment in Tokyo but diligently visits another part of the Kanto region every fortnight.