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ProfessionalCritique
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Title : The Hikikomori Case Author : Shuji Nakamura Genre : Novel View Opening ChaptersRating : Best Seller Chart Book  Synopsis What do you do when the world takes everything you care about? The professional critique by literary professional Martyn Bedford is displayed in the next post.
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ProfessionalCritique
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About the reviewer: Martyn Bedford has published five novels: the critically acclaimed Acts of Revision, which won the Yorkshire Post Best First Work Award; Exit, Orange and Red; The Houdini Girl, which is currently being developed for film; and Black Cat. Martyn is a former lecturer in creative writing at Manchester University and an occasional tutor in novel writing for the Arvon Foundation. Martyn has been a judge for the Betty Trask Awards, and is co-founder of the manuscript appraisal service Literary Intelligence. His fifth novel, The Island of Lost Souls, will be published in paperback by Bloomsbury in July 2007. Considering critiques by Michael Legat: " ... throughout my publishing career I always found that the really good authors were those who would accept highly critical comments (which were made solely in the hope of improving the work). They didn't always accept my advice, but at least they listened!Michael" About Michael Legat: After a highly successful career in publishing, mostly as Editorial Director firstly of Corgi Books and later of Cassell, Michael Legat became a full-time writer and tutor of Creative Writing. He has published five novels and eighteen non-fiction books, the latter including the Best Sellers An Author's Guide to Publishing and Writing for Pleasure and Profit. The Hikikomori Case by Shuji Nakamura critique by: Martyn Bedford * * * * * Introduction Firstly, well done on winning this professional appraisal - there is plenty of competition on YouWriteOn, so for your extract to score well enough to be among the top few is a sign of the regard in which your work is held by fellow writers and readers on the site. Can I also say that, having read the extract, I think your chart ranking is well deserved. You have a distinctive narrative style, an intriguing premise for your story and a central character/narrator who is rich in psychological and emotional potential. I do, however, have a few concerns and if the following report tends to dwell on those more than on the positives it is because I feel that constructively critical feedback is ultimately of more use to you than reams of praise. So, please bear this in mind when reading and digesting what I have to say. And, of course, it is only one critic's opinion, and my comments and suggestions are yours to accept, adapt or reject as you see fit. In preparing this appraisal I have taken on board your opening statement regarding the emphasis in your writing on ideas and the internal world of characters as opposed to narrative action. And, of course, you want feedback designed to help you make the story a better version of itself, not transform it into something altogether different. As a critic and creative writing tutor, that has always been my approach to a piece of work. Although, in fact, on the characterization-versus-action issue, I feel your preliminary note paints the picture more black-and-white than it actually is, in your case. It's perfectly possible to have a novel of ideas and which explores character, but which also has a "plot" driving the narrative along. If we take "action" to mean "events", then we move away from car chases and shoot-outs and towards the incidents and episodes in a character's life which directly impact upon, or are integral to, or arise from, that character's mental and emotional condition. And, from this, the writer (and reader) can then explore the themes and ideas - social, cultural, psychological etc - which evolve from that context. In this way, events and ideas/interiority work together in synthesis within a narrative. You do this, in your novel, from what I've seen of the opening chapters and synopsis. The narrator's final moments with his father, the father's suicide, the narrator's withdrawal into the reclusive life of a hikikomori, the arrival of the mysterious video tape of his father . . . these are all "events" which propel the story or narrative, but which also serve as the framework upon which you assemble the psychological and thematic elements which are at the novel's core. (Of course, there will always be readers who want more action and less characterization - but there are plenty of writers out there to cater to their needs!) Anyway, I hope the following critique proves useful. As you'll see, I've organised the comments chapter by chapter, while ranging into some more general points along the way. Appraisal (Chapter 1) Good opening line. "The previous evening my father received a disturbing phone call . . ." It is immediately intriguing (Who called? What about? What will it lead to?) but it also fits neatly with the chapter's title, "Everything begins in the middle", in the sense that the first three words read as though they should be following on from something we've read in a previous sentence or chapter, rather than at the very opening of the novel. And so there is the satisfying and involving feeling for the reader of joining a story in a state of flux, where things are already unfolding. Indeed, the first paragraph is effective in capturing the reader's interest. We not only sense the significance (for the father) of this mysterious phone call, but also we see that Shuji is concerned by it only from the solipsistic perspective of having his favourite TV programme disturbed. The characterization of the narrator and depiction of the father-son relationship is thus established, very subtly, right from the outset. And, of course, it is Shuji's selfish and self-interested preoccupation which will later fuel his guilt and shame over his father's suicide, and which goes right to the heart of the young man's emotional and mental crisis. Another impressive aspect of your writing, which I'll mention here but which applies more generally to all of the opening chapters, is the creation of a narrative "voice" for Shuji. You have a distinctive prose style which, within a first-person narration, contributes significantly to the characterization of Shuji through his idiom, tone and register. His way of seeing the world, and himself, resonates in the language he uses to recount the events (internal and external) of the novel. However, a word of caution . . . Take care not to overuse adjectives and adverbs. As an illustration of my point: every noun in the first two sentences has an adjective attached to it (previous/evening; disturbing/phone call; favorite/TV show; whispered/profanity; sweet/relief; ill-considered/prayers). Now, some of those adjectives need to be there, obviously, but I'd suggest that one or two could be cut (e.g. "sweet" and "ill-considered") because they are already implicit in the adjoining noun or within context, or because they tell us something it would be better to let us see for ourselves, and are therefore superfluous. Over-use of adjectives, and adverbs, can make the prose feel cluttered and over-written and closes down the space for the reader to attach their own mental images to nouns and verbs - i.e. to use their imagination. I've cited one passage as an example, but it was something that cropped up more generally over these opening chapters and I would suggest that, when redrafting and editing, you go through the novel sentence by sentence, testing each adjective and adverb with the questions: Does it need to be there? Can it be cut without affecting or damaging meaning/intention? Some judicious pruning along these lines will sharpen the writing while leaving the style and tone of Shoji's "voice" intact. In this first chapter, the scene where the father gives Shuji an untypical and unwelcome goodbye hug is very effective at conveying the boy's discomfort and revulsion at this physical expression of affection. It tells us a lot about him, within himself, and in his relationship to his father and more generally - we come to realise - to other people and the world at large. I have concerns about the way in which you revisit the psychological aspect of this later on, but I'll come to that in due course. Here, you handle it well and subtly. Critique continues next post
This post was last edited by ProfessionalCritique, 25 Jul 2008, 15:00
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ProfessionalCritique
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My next concern centres on Shuji's search of his father's bedroom for "clues". As a scene, and in terms of his motivation, it feels somewhat set-up and artificial. Shuji is irritated by the phone call then, after the farewell hug, becomes curious about what's going on . . . all of which is fine. But would that necessarily, or plausibly, lead him to snoop in his father's room? And what sort of "clues" might he hope to find there, anyway, to explain the context of a phone call? And then the Yellow Pages, very conveniently, just happens to have been left open at the page where the ad for the hotel is circled, handing the clue to Shuji on a plate. In fact, it reads like an authorial device to enable Shuji to discover the name of the hotel ahead of hearing it referred to on the TV news in a later scene. I would suggest that you cut the search-for-clues scene altogether. Given that the father will have been inexplicably and worryingly absent all night, and given Shuji's tendency to relate things to himself, it would be perfectly plausible for him to have an ominous dread that the TV news report might somehow involve his father, even without discovering the Yellow Pages ad beforehand.
Also, on the matter of the father's suicide - surely the police would come knocking at some point to inform Shuji of his father's death? I'm not suggesting you need to incorporate this as a scene (although it does have strong narrative and characterization potential), but it ought at least to be referred to, for authenticity's sake.
Following on from my earlier point about adjectives and adverbs, I'd like to focus on the fifth paragraph of Chapter 1 as an illustration of another area of concern, for me. Here, and in a couple of other places further on, you have a tendency to overwrite. By that, I mean a repetitiousness and straining for effect, a veering into excess, and forced or melodramatic language, in attempting to convey Shuji's emotional and psychological turmoil. In just this one paragraph, for example: ". . . blasted through the screen and knocked me senseless"; ". . . was thrown back across the city"; "In a sudden jolt I was hurled on to a sofa . . . into the blackness of the screen and the silence of heartbeats"; ". . . I sat in a daze of incremental realisation"; ". . . smacked me over the head again and again until I was dizzy"; "the world became a silent siren spinning around me, oscillating consciousness"; "I spun between the confusion of the distance and the harsh cries of the present". Taken individually, each of these phrases and images might be fine. But, cumulatively, piled one on top of the other in the space of a few lines, they amount to overkill. Apart from anything else, several of the images are simply variations of ways of saying the same thing. I would suggest that if you pared this passage right back, and aimed for understatement rather than overstatement, it would be far more effective in taking the reader inside Shuji's head at this point. Allow us to infer and imagine his shock and distress rather than bash us over the head with it.
(Chapter 2)
This is a terrific chapter, pretty much from start to finish, with the slight caveat that I feel you strain for effect in the closing stages, when you describe Mrs Tagawa's reaction to discovering the hanging man (". . . the sight of him punched a hole in her face"; "she screamed so loud her lungs burnt"; "the frigid chill dripped etc . . . and crawled up her spine".) The discovery of a suicide is inherently shocking, and the reader will imagine and understand the room-maid's shock without the author needing to resort to overstatement. So, as before, I'd suggest a little toning down here.
(Chapter 3)
There's a terrific, original metaphor, in this chapter: "The image of that grotesque mass . . . was in effect a punch with the weight of a life behind it." Good though it is, however, it does set up a mixed metaphor in the next sentence (". . . it branded her.") So, is it a punch, or a branding iron? Either is fine, but together they create a clash of images.
You've already used the phrase "crawled up her spine", near the end of Chapter 2, when Mrs T discovers the body. You use it again here: ". . . enough to send cold brass digits crawling up the reader's spine". I'd take care to avoid using identical metaphors so close together, or at all, in this case - not least because the crawl-up-the-spine image is something of a cliché.
Following on from my earlier remark about understatement being preferable to overstatement in conveying an intended effect, I'd like to cite an example where you get that balance spot on: "She still wears that morning on her face." This is potent, and subtle, and invites the reader to create their own mental picture of Mrs T's face. It tells us so much more about the psychological impact that discovery of the body has had on her than any amount of heightened description. All in all, this is a good chapter in dealing with the room-maid's mental fall-out from what she witnessed that day in the hotel. It is also very good in its treatment of the speculation and rumour and the general media approach to the episode of the suicides.
(Chapter 4)
To develop an earlier criticism, the explication of the psychological impact on Shuji of his father's suicide, and of their last moment together, becomes somewhat repetitious and belaboured in the first few paragraphs of this chapter. It takes longer to make its essential points than it needs to. It also throws up one or two contradictory images or metaphors. For example, the significance of "a moment" is described variously as "a pungent stench"; "a huge diamond plucked from the necklace of time"; "I imprisoned myself within it" (within a diamond?, how, exactly?); "It was my own geometric hell, the diamond of which I previously spoke"; "Death came to me like a flashbulb"; "Snapshot! That was it."; "Polaroids of the moment he left . . .".
The references to "imprisonment" and "torment" are made several times over, and indeed the whole 'isolated moments within a chain of moments' riff is similarly repetitious in making its point. Likewise, the long paragraph dealing with Shuji's revulsion at being shown physical affection makes it central point several times over, with only minor variation.
The 'pork rinds' riff, likewise, belabours its point. Indeed, this paragraph revisits the theme of the earlier one, regarding Shuji's response to physical affection, albeit that this time it is attached to a specific hug from his father rather than more generally. Even so, we feel like we've been told all this already. And, if I can belabour a point about the belabouring of points, the exploration of Shuji's shame is longer and more repetitious than it needs to be in conveying its intended effect.
A picky point: you refer to "domesticated canines"; why not simply "pet dogs"?
If I can make a more general point, here, it's fine and necessary to delve into a character's mindset and psychological processes. This novel will succeed or fail on the strength and depth of Shuji's characterization, more than on what happens in the unfolding events of his life. But when you are describing an aspect of his personality, paraphrasing the same essential point several times over is not the same as peeling back layers of complexity to reveal some kind of insight into the character. The situation, as the novel is set-up, is relatively straightforward, in psychological terms. Shuji is revolted by intimacy . . . His father's final hug disgusts him . . . After his father's suicide, Shuji is deeply ashamed that he rejected his affection in that last moment together . . . This shame sends him into a psychological crisis that colours the way he lives his life for years to come. You don't need to devote as much narrative space as you do, or to be as belaboured or repetitious, in detailing his specific psychological responses to some of the particular moments within that chain. Don't confuse the amount of narrative space you devote to interiority, with the depth or complexity of characterizing insight. One or two sentences can be just as effective as half a page. And you ought to trust your reader to have got the message without the need to be told it over and again.
Critique continues next post
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ProfessionalCritique
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(Chapter 5)
Following on from which, there is another example of repetition, with slight variation, in relation to Shuji's mental state in this chapter. For example, "I just felt lifeless"; "completely exhausted without interest in anything much at all"; "to say life was pointless . . ."; "a depthless apathy". After which there are two sentences which say the same thing in different ways: "There was no spark of recognition that I had hit the nail on the head" and "There was no skip inside of me like the one you may experience when you've discovered an interesting secret and are delighted by the idea that you actually know something to be true". Not only does the second sentence superfluously repeat, or paraphrase, the first sentence, it is also incredibly wordy and convoluted. And, in fact, you then prolong the repetitious paraphrasing still further: "No moment of rescue at all. No chimes in my soul, so to speak, just dull thuds."
There is a similarly belaboured and repetitious feel to the next phase of this chapter, when Shuji describes his self-loathing and disgust. Here, and in all the passages cited in this appraisal, I would suggest that, in redrafting and editing, you need to be ruthless in pruning the writing down to its essentials. It won't mean compromising Shuji's narrative voice, and it's quite possible to simplify the prose without simplifying the characterization.
There's a nice line in this chapter which displays your authorial wit, and of course gives us a glimpse of another element of Shuji's personality: his dark humour. "I was placed on a course of medication to make everyone feel a lot happier . . . not least my doctors, who had few ideas on resuscitating dead fathers." Terrific.
(Chapter 6)
There are a couple of other good one-liners, here, which illustrate the previous note: His aunt ". . . may actually have been in motion when she signed on the dotted line"; and "It was the insurance world's equivalent of a super-yankee." These odd flashes of humour, apart from being funny in themselves, also help to lighten the narrative tone from time to time, as a respite from the darker psychological areas which necessarily dominate the story.
This chapter is effective in conveying Shuji's retreat into reclusiveness and, in terms of "plotting", the arrival of the mysterious package at the end of the chapter provides a useful and intriguing hook to draw the reader on into the next chapter.
(Chapter 7)
Good chapter from start to finish. A very well handled scene, chilling and intriguing and affecting. Also, another strong hook on which to end the chapter.
Conclusion
Let me end with a reminder that, while the appraisal might seem disproportionately concerned with my concerns or suggested areas for improvement, I am impressed overall by the quality of this extract and with the possibilities for the novel, as set up in the opening chapters and outlined in the synopsis. My main worry is that certain tendencies in your writing, as described above, work against the effects you are trying to achieve. If you can address these when editing and redrafting I feel the novel will be much closer to fulfilling its potential, as you will be to fulfilling your evident promise as a writer. I hope these notes are useful to you in that process.
Martyn Bedford
for YouWriteOn.com
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shujinak
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Thank you to the reviewer, Ted and the site members for giving me the opportunity to receive this critique. The outcome was not entirely unexpected. It reflected the concerns of some other reviewers and to some extent myself, especially with regard to the opening lines, repetition and a periodic lack of subtlety. I hope these problems are more marked in the opening chapters than other sections of the novel, and I will be experimenting with different edits to try and produce a superior opening. The fact that I haven’t already made significant revisions is not because I’m dismissive of these concerns, well not all of them, but rather that I’ve looked at my own work so often since joining YWO that I’m pretty sick of the sight of it. I can’t get any perspective at the moment. When I get over this malaise, I’ll set to work. I would also like to add that I’m grateful to the reviewer for showing sensitivity to my feelings and to my overall project while making his comments/ criticisms. (Though I do feel a little “belaboured” by the excessive and repetitive use of “belabour”  .) Regards, Shuji. By the way, there is one point from the critique that I disagree with wholeheartedly, namely, the choice between “domesticated canines” and “pet dogs”. A picky point: you refer to "domesticated canines"; why not simply "pet dogs"? The full line was: “Indeed, I have become so successful in transmitting this sentiment to even the stupidest of creatures that before today I have seen domesticated canines run howling into the horizon before they will endure the indignity of licking my hand.” Why? Because I prefer it. Because I think it fits in better with the tone of the sentence. Because ‘domesticated canines’ aggrandizes ‘pet dogs’ and suggests that they are capable of suffering ‘indignity’. Finally, because ‘pet dogs’ is dull and functional, and it is an ideological precept of the main character that if you live in a dull and functional world, and you always describe that world in dull and functional language, then life cannot be anything other than dull and functional. In short, I’d rather chop off my left testicle than change that line. But apart from that, I hope and expect that the comments will help me improve my work. 
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datahog
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Quote: shujinak, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 13:11By the way, there is one point from the critique that I disagree with wholeheartedly, namely, the choice between “domesticated canines” and “pet dogs”. The full line was: “Indeed, I have become so successful in transmitting this sentiment to even the stupidest of creatures that before today I have seen domesticated canines run howling into the horizon before they will endure the indignity of licking my hand.” Hi, Shuji: Congrats on the critique from Martyn. He clearly thinks highly of your talent. Regarding your discussion of the line above, I certainly don't take it as defensiveness, but as one writer talking shop to others. In the same spirit, here's my view on your line, the caveats being I haven't read your submission, so I have no context, don't know what sort of voice you're after: I'd go with a simple "dogs," rather than "pet dogs," given the sentence already has a lot of modifiers and abstract words. It's a bit too taxing on the brain, IMO. (The other way to go, to preserve "domesticated canines," would be to simplify and streamline the rest of the sentence.) Here’s a little advice from Anton Chekhov (in a letter to Maxim Gorky) that is I think apropos: “When you read proof cross out as many adjectives and adverbs as you can. You have so many modifiers that the reader has trouble understanding and gets worn out. It is comprehensible when I write: ‘The man sat on the grass,’ because it is clear and does not detain one's attention. On the other hand, it is difficult to figure out and hard on the brain if I write: ‘The tall, narrow-chested man of medium height and with a red beard sat down on the green grass that had already been trampled down by the pedestrians, sat down silently, looking around timidly and fearfully.’ The brain can't grasp all that at once, and art must be grasped at once, instantaneously.”
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visinker
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Quote: I’d rather chop off my left testicle than change that line. Well, they do say murder your darlings! Ouch!  Have to say I quite like 'domesticated canines' but I haven't read the rest so will reserve judgement until I do.
Read the titles of some of my erotica on my Website...  MadCow
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JohnnyVee
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Quote: visinker, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 16:42Quote: I’d rather chop off my left testicle than change that line. Well, they do say murder your darlings! Ouch! Why's it always the left one? 
Opinion is ultimately determined by the feelings, and not by the intellect.— Herbert Spencer (1820–1903)
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visinker
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JohnnyVee
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Quote: visinker, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 16:55Easier for the right handed to reach? I think you've managed to hijack this thread with balls. We best get on track in case Ted gets teste. So erm, yeah, me too, I liked the domesticated canines best. 
Opinion is ultimately determined by the feelings, and not by the intellect.— Herbert Spencer (1820–1903)
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visinker
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The one above looks very domesticated to me. (Anyway, nobody else is listening/looking...or are they?!?) 
Read the titles of some of my erotica on my Website... MadCow
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JohnnyVee
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Quote: visinker, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 17:02The one above looks very domesticated to me. (Anyway, nobody else is listening/looking...or are they?!?) Is that Hector? I also wonder what Jack and Jill have in their bucket?
Opinion is ultimately determined by the feelings, and not by the intellect.— Herbert Spencer (1820–1903)
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marthatandy
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Quote: JohnnyVee, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 17:20Quote: visinker, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 17:02The one above looks very domesticated to me. (Anyway, nobody else is listening/looking...or are they?!?) Is that Hector? I also wonder what Jack and Jill have in their bucket? slosh 
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JohnnyVee
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Quote: marthatandy, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 21:07Quote: JohnnyVee, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 17:20Quote: visinker, Sunday, 27 Jul 2008 17:02The one above looks very domesticated to me. (Anyway, nobody else is listening/looking...or are they?!?) Is that Hector? I also wonder what Jack and Jill have in their bucket? slosh For sure!
Opinion is ultimately determined by the feelings, and not by the intellect.— Herbert Spencer (1820–1903)
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shujinak
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Thanks guys for taking an interest in both domesticated canines and my testicles  . Thanks too, datahog, for the advice. Often I would agree with Chekov, especially with regard to action scenes or when trying to maintain the rhythm and pace of dialogue. I just don’t agree in this particular instance. The line comes at the end of a paragraph. It is followed by a natural pause, and if the reader finds it too taxing, they can have a lie down and apply a cold compress before proceeding any further. (Besides, I don’t think the words ‘domesticated’ or ‘canines’ are particularly taxing.) On a more general point, I think there are some people who apply Chekov’s advice unreflectively. I seem to recall Stephen King making similar points. While he may be a very imaginative and successful man, I doubt anyone in their right mind would hold him up as the pinnacle of literary achievement. Is it really such a heinous crime to demand some effort from the reader? What’s more, as someone who comes from a community in which the pursuit of simplicity in language is not just an editorial position but a way of life, I know that the consequences are much greater than mental fatigue. God, I’m wearing myself out. Back to testicles. Why the left one? Because gravity has made it more accessible. That’s my choice, and I’m sticking by it.
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NEW - Critique - The Hikikomori Case
25 Jul 2008, 14:56
