Kiyoko Murata, winner of virtually every major literary prize in her native Japan, writes plainly and powerfully about the final inhabitants of remote Yojojima, part of what was once called "Horaijima. Isles of Bliss." More than a thousand years ago, these islands were the "westernmost point in Japan.... The end of the known world." The death of Yojojima's oldest resident at 97 leaves just Ajisaka Io, 92, and Kanaya Someko, 88; the pair have been lifelong companions, working together as ama divers, gathering the sea's bounty. In the island dialect, "io" means "fish"; Io was once the most skilled among the island's 20 ama. Once upon a time, Yojojima had schools, a hospital, a public bath, and rice, liquor, and hardware stores, but death--and relocation--has taken almost all the residents.
Umiko, Io's 65-year-old daughter, returns home for the funeral, hoping she might convince her mother to move to mainland Kyushu, where she runs a restaurant. But Io and Someko will never leave. After countless generations, they're the last keepers of the ancestors' graves; they must perform the traditional bird dances to protect their islands, and they continue to wait for husbands and other relatives, whom they believe flew away to new lives after transforming into birds. Their apparent independence, however, comes at a steep price: a supply boat from the largest nearby island, Hataejima, which services the smaller islands, costs 20 million yen (approximately $125,000) per year--"the old folks travel expenses"--officials claim.
Umiko won't leave the woman alone with a typhoon on the way. She strikes up a friendship of sorts with young Shigi from Hataejima's Office of Public Relations, who also patrols for "suspicious characters" illegally seeking refuge on the dozens of uninhabited islands in this border area. For as long as Io and Someko live, Yojojima at least isn't a deserted threat. As Shigi visits islands, checks on residents, and takes pictures for tourism posters, Umiko becomes his regular companion through these "boundless realms."
Murata presents a pastoral existence in peril, the last residents on the brink of disappearing. She writes with an open simplicity about "the two old women [who] had childlike hearts" inextricably dedicated to their home. With affecting clarity, translator Juliet Winters Carpenter again deftly captures Murata's prose after A Woman of Pleasure (2024). Carpenter's death in May 2026--making this one of the last (if not the last) of her remarkable translations--adds further poignancy to Murata's haunting narrative about aging and impending loss. --Terry Hong
Shelf Talker: Kiyoko Murata's Island of the Bird-Folk insightfully explores the lives of two women who are the last inhabitants of a remote Japanese island.