Yatagarasu Series
Volume 1:
Ravens Shouldn't
Wear Kimono
Author: Chisato Abe
Commentary
Listen to this chapter!
First off, I must inform all readers in advance: this novel will guide you into a world you could not have imagined partway through the story. The otherworldly fantasy you might expect from the title and cover will, at a certain point, completely change its color and form.
If you were hoping for a beautifully tragic story set in a luxurious, dazzling world of flowers and dreams, you might feel a bit let down after finishing the book. If you have no interest in fantasy at all but are a serious mystery fan intrigued by the puzzle hinted at on the book’s band, you will likely be delighted.
There are few works where the initial worldview presented and the impression you have after finishing are so different.
This astonishing novel was written by a university student who is only twenty years old. As a seasoned book reviewer who rarely gets surprised by any book these days, I became an instant fan.
This is the debut work of Chisato Abe. This book was awarded the 19th Matsumoto Seichō Prize in 2012. It is common for novels in the genre that made Matsumoto Seichō himself famous to win: that is to say, mysteries and historical novels. Notable winners include Hideo Yokoyama, author of Half a Confession and 4, leading writers of period novels such as Sanji Iwai, Rin Hamuro, and Yoko Kaji, as well as Kenichi Yamamoto, who won the Naoki Prize for Ask This of Rikyu but sadly passed away at a young age. The image of this prize is strongly associated with seasoned authors.
Chisato Abe won this award at the age of twenty. I am convinced that her victory was due to the grand scale and sense of scope she brought to this work.
The story is set in a world governed by the Yatagarasu. The head of the imperial family, known as the Emperor or Golden Raven, rules over this world. Beneath the imperial family are four families—Touke, Saike, Nanke, and Hokke—each with their own distinct roles and responsibilities within the Imperial Court. People usually appear in human form, but when the need arises, they can transform into ravens.
Among the aristocratic class known as the miyagarasu, it is considered improper to transform into bird form. Those outside the miyagarasu are referred to as yamadori or yamagarasu (mountain birds or commoners), and work as retainers or servants. At the lowest rank, they remain in bird form at all times and are called horses.
The word “yatagarasu” itself evokes no clear image. According to Shigeo Yamamoto’s book Kumano Yatagarasu, which studies imaginary creatures similar to yatagarasu from around the world, a yatagarasu is a giant, three-legged raven. Yatagarasu are usually considered auspicious figures in mythology. They are connected to sun worship and the creation legends of humanity. Their spiritual nature has a profound link to the order of the universe and the concept of immortals.
In the Nihon Shoki (Chronicles of Japan), there is a passage about Emperor Jimmu’s eastern expedition. Apparently, yatagarasu led the way through the steep mountains of Kumano. Because of this, the divine messengers of Kumano became the yatagarasu.
A familiar example is the emblem of the Japan Football Association, which features a stylized design of a yatagarasu. Following the legend of Emperor Jimmu, the image of the yatagarasu shines light in all directions while holding the ball. This emblem symbolizes the governance and guidance of football, its proper development, and the aspiration to make its glory shine throughout the world.
But I digress.
The story begins with the decision to select a bride for the young heir of the imperial family. One duchess from each of four powerful noble families—Touke, Saike, Nanke and Hokke—is summoned to Sakura Palace. For the family whose duchess is selected and bears the next heir, their future is secure. The duchess herself will become the Empress, known as the Red Raven, and rule over the country.
Each family selects their duchess carefully. They have been educated since childhood to pass this test. They come to Sakura Palace accompanied by skilled servants and ladies-in-waiting.
The narrator is the second duchess of Touke. She is unexpectedly chosen to enter Sakura Palace in place of her elder sister, Futaba, who has fallen ill with smallpox. Sickly since childhood and isolated from most others for much of her life, the second duchess is naïve, lacks common sense, and cannot read social cues. She is a subject of ridicule among the other duchesses. She does not even have a formal given name, only a title. The Empress gives her the mocking and unrefined name “Asebi.” Asebi is grateful for her name even though it was only given to her to make fun of her.
The story unfolds as a lavish depiction of conflicts and romantic rivalries arising from the contrasting personalities of the duchesses and the power struggles between their families. The setting is fantastical, but it mirrors ordinary human society. There are schemes and intrigues around every corner. One particular quirk is that most of these schemes involve only women. The duchesses form their own court, and the web of their relationships to one another becomes increasingly complex.
The plot turns on its head in the novel’s center. A single disappearance and death turn the world upside down. In no time, everything is reversed. The sweetness and gentleness of the beginning chapters gradually turns bitter. The end informs the beginning; there are many clues that can be easily missed on a first reading. I recommend reading this novel at least twice.
It is presumed that the author, though young, has a considerable history of reading. The selection committee members involved in awarding the Matsumoto Seichō Prize did not overlook this point.
Ishida Ira evaluates the novel in this way:
“This work possesses a sense of scale and an extraordinary imagination in its details that go beyond the framework of light novels. If a certain philosophical quality were to be added to this world-building ability, it would be truly formidable.”
Mariko Koike pointed out the awkwardness of some expressions, but still praised the author’s literary talent:
“The work depicts the universal essence of womanhood that transcends time. It never bores readers who simply want to enjoy the story… The writing style appeals to the reader’s five senses.”
Not all of the selection committee members gave their full and enthusiastic approval for this novel, but that’s only to be expected.
Novels for young readers, often called light novels or young adult fiction, have become increasingly popular in recent years. The boundary between many genres of fiction has blurred. Stories set in alternate worlds featuring swords and magic are sometimes considered childish. Avid readers can still be drawn to the depth and breadth of imagination these works can portray. Fantasy is not just for children, as Ravens Shouldn’t Wear Kimono demonstrates.
Ira Ishida stated at the beginning of his selection commentary that in an era when many believe that the publishing industry, literary awards, and even novels themselves must change, the emergence of a young writer like Chisato Abe may be considered a stroke of good fortune.
In an essay written immediately after receiving the award, Chisato Abe described her childhood experiences. When she was about four years old, she told her mother that she had eaten a rainbow, and when caught in a sudden rain, she sought shelter under a large mushroom. She claimed to have seen fairies here and there, and she once found the god of the wind after climbing a tree. Her mother wrote down these stories. Whether one would scold a child for lying or look forward to her future with delight at her vivid imagination depends on the qualities of the parent. It is admirable that Chisato Abe’s parents nurtured her in such a way. She has been writing stories of her own for more than a decade.
At the awards ceremony, Chisato Abe boldly declared that her goal was to become a household name. While some might call this boastful, I was deeply moved by her ambition. Of course, this impression was formed after reading her work.
The difficulty in evaluating newcomers lies in cases where only their award-winning piece is available. No matter how excellent that work may be, the reality is that luck exists. According to Osawa Arimasa’s Novel Writing Course: All the Techniques of a Bestselling Author—Don’t Be Satisfied with Just Your Debut (published by Kadokawa Shouten), out of the approximately 200 recipients of newcomer literary awards each year, only one or two survive in the industry five years later. Most disappear after their debut work.
As splendid as Ravens Shouldn’t Wear Kimono undoubtedly is, it is valid to wonder if this is the only book Chisato Abe can write, given the state of the industry.
Fortunately, a second and third book of the same series are already in the works, with the second slated to be published soon and the third in summer. The second book is called The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master, and it greatly expands the world of the Yatagarasu series. I can’t give too many spoilers here, but The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master takes place concurrently with Ravens Shouldn’t Wear Kimono. What was the Crown Prince doing while the duchesses were scheming in Sakura Palace? These are the events depicted in the novel.
It was surprising to learn that these elements had already been woven into the larger narrative. The story of Sakura Palace is an advanced, authentic mystery. The second work unfolds with a firmer writing style, reminiscent of a hard-boiled detective novel.
How will this series develop over time? Let us all watch and wait as this young talent grows rapidly like a new bamboo shoot.
Azuma Erika
Translator's Note
Book bands in Japanese are promotional printed paper that often get used as bookmarks. They fold into the front and back covers and usually contain a summary or teaser for a book.
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