My Year of Meats by Ruth Ozeki

It isn't often that a book makes me feel physically sick and I still keep reading. Especially if what is making me feel sick is a harsh truth about the way we live. I read books to escape from reality, so why would I continue with one that highlights the worst aspects of society?

My Year of Meats by Ruth Ozeki showed me uncomfortable truths. The fact that I fought with discomfort to the end demonstrates how compelling the story, or more accurately the characters are. This is the second novel of Ozeki's that I have enjoyed after recently finishing  A Tale for the Time Being; which I read shortly after returning from Tokyo as I pined for the Japanese way of life.

Note: This review contains NO spoilers!

Ozeki was born in America. Her father was American, and her mother was Japanese. This split-cultural background clearly drives her choice of story. Her novels I have read both feature the two cultures coming together. She draws from her own feelings towards heritage to make her characters' behavior believable. One of the characters, Jane, shares the same mixed parentage as Ozeki and I'm sure she has imparted her own personal insecurities. A reoccurring theme within both novels is a struggle to understand yourself and find somewhere that feels like home. Despite my own background being rather straightforward, I share the sense of limbo her characters experience.

Within My Year of Meats, the uncertainty that Ozeki explores is love and integrity. The novel focuses on two very different women; Jane, a documentary filmmaker in America, who struggles with a career that she loves, but one makes her question her beliefs, and Akikko, a Japanese housewife trapped in her marriage.

During the course of making a cookery show, Jane discovers horrible truths about Western food and finds answers to a personal mystery. She battles to show the truth about the meat that the show's producers would rather not be revealed. At the same time, across the globe in Japan another woman, Akikko, watches the show and begins to question her marriage, her society and even her sexuality. Both women become linked by the two sides of the lens and, though their countries are different, the issues they face in life are the same.

The novel interested me on multiple levels. I set out to read it due to my obsession with Japanese culture. Once again, Ozeki doesn't pull punches in her portrayal of Japanese society and this time sheds light on the darker aspects of being a housewife. I genuinely felt trapped like Akikko, as I read her side of the story. Part of this came from my own knowledge of the relationship dynamic in Japan, but it is Ozeki's writing style that brought it into sharp focus.

On another level, the novel revealed more to me about the meat industry. Thankfully I am not a voracious meat-eater anyway; I tend to stick to white meat and fish. My almost vegetarian existence isn't political or down to disgust, simply a matter of taste. But after reading the novel I am glad that I don't like beef anyway. Many parts showing the way in which cattle are bred made me feel ill. I was disgusted at the ways society is desperately trying to feed our escalating population. During these parts it would have been very easy to give up in disgust yet, due to her enticing plot, I read on. It was like coming across a car crash on the motorway: you know you shouldn't want to see it, but curiosity keeps you watching. I am sure that, like me, any reader will come away from reading this with their eyes open.

If I have one criticism of the book it is the ending. Whilst some plot details were wrapped up rather conveniently for my liking, others were left open. Sometimes this isn't a problem and it is rather refreshing when a novel leaves it up to your imagination. However, in this case I felt a little cheated. It really isn't a big point and the rest of the novel far outweighs this gripe.

One aspect I love about the book is how the characters stories are told. The book is split into sections and the point of view switches between the characters. Thankfully, it is clearly shown whose head we are in at all times and it doesn't become confusing. Nor does the switches happen too frequently as to become annoying.

Overall, My Year of Meats is a brilliant read for those who want to dip into another culture. It sheds light on Japanese and American life, as well as death. Along the way it questions relationships, identity, media bias and the food on our plates. I highly recommend both the book and other works by Ruth Ozeki.

Cover image from Madison, beef image from teacher-chef.