Rui Umezawa’s The Truth about Death and Dying begins with a dying Japanese man who has faced the tragedies of World War II, living his last seconds in front of his wife and sons at a hospital. The words used in the first few sentences of the book are so carefully chosen that the reader is transported right next to Shoji’s deathbed.
But this story is not about a single soul or only one lifetime. The demons Shoji faced in the war continue to haunt the future generations of his family, consisting of his two sons, Toshi and Kei. In their present-day, quotidian lives, the sons have to fight this wicked curse with horror and frustration.
The story is written in flashbacks and sometimes flashback within flashbacks. War is mentioned, but most of the time the reader engages with the characters in real-life events that one can relate to: piano lessons, a first kiss, or a fight with a parent. It is not war itself that casts Umezawa’s demons: it is the confusion that arises from how to comprehend horrific experiences. Life goes on and denial seems like a tempting escape, even when daily life has become a war itself. Umezawa combines this sensation with a heightened realism, focussing on details such as the moisture in a room or the wrinkle on a shirt.
The details are where the truth lies, where the real meaning exists. The Truth about Death and Dying rings true by illustrating the emotions of a family with a tragic past that attempts to live on. Umezawa places us right in front of Shoji’s demon.
