The Easy Life in Kamusari Review

Writing is Hard

I know, stating the obvious. But have you ever read one of those books that has such storytelling craft, it kind of annoys you that you didn’t write it?

With the specificity of its details, its pacing, its use of the senses, and its easy, voicey narration, Shion Miura’s 2009 novel,“The Easy Life in Kamusari” (translated by Juliet Winters Carpenter), is one of those. 

I’ve been in a little bit of a reading slump. As an aspiring author, I’m reading all the time, but lately it’s like I’ve hit a wall with my work. I fell into so many ‘how’s and ‘why’s, wondering what the point even was to finishing my story, let alone how I could even get there. Add in my job and day to day responsibilities, and there’s a pretty fine recipe for creative burnout. 

I wasn’t always the kindest about my project, which didn’t help. I’m sure other artists out there can relate. So, I decided to take a break. I decided to read a bit more, relax, take it easy and see if that shook anything loose. I got a Kindle Scribe for my birthday, and figured I’d give Kindle Unlimited a try, so I got the thing all set up and took a look through the recommended reads. Seemed like a pretty good time to try something new, after all. Since it was a rare moment of impulsivity for me, I decided to just pick a cover and go in blind.

Enter: The Easy Life in Kamusari. It found me at exactly the right time.

A Quick Rundown

Known in Japan as Kamusari Naanaa Nichijo, The Easy Life in Kamusari is told from the perspective of Hirano Yuki: a recent high school graduate from Yokohama who lacks direction in his life. After leaving school, Hirano is shipped off to the rural village of Kamusari (based on Misugi) in Mie prefecture as part of a logging program. Once there, he has to learn to adjust to village life and learn the lumber trade. It’s a coming of age story touched by tradition and spirituality, and is sure to change Hirano Yuki forever. 

Misugi, Mie Prefecture, Japan

“You can’t come back for a year. Take care of yourself, Hirano. Hang in there.” I eventually found out that, without telling me, they had signed me up for a government-sponsored program called Green Employment. 

While doing my research for this blog, I learned The Easy Life in Kamusari got a film adaptation. Wood Job! released in 2014 and was filmed in the mountains around Japan’s Mie prefecture. I’ll definitely have to give it a watch sometime and report back. 

Regarding the Dog

There is a dog in The Easy Life in Kamusari, which if you’re anything like me, is enough to put you on guard immediately and get you thinking the worst. The dog’s name is Noko (Hirano suspects this is short for “Nokogiri”, a Japanese word for “saw”), and he frequently follows his master Yoki to the mountains to help with the logging work. His white fur is great for visibility, and his howls act as alarm systems if someone gets hurt. He also scouts out the area for dangers like pitfalls. 

Noko is a very sweet and helpful boy who takes his work seriously, and most importantly, he does not die

Readers should be aware of two things, though:

  • There is a section where Noko loses confidence in himself, which puts him off his food and makes him listless. His loving owner and their friends are able to help Noko recover and he’s back to his energetic self in no time. 
  • There is a section towards the end of the book where Noko is in trouble and could have died. Hirano is able to save him and protects him until the danger has passed.

Nature, Ever Present

The air filled with all sorts of mingled fragrances: the sweetness of the clear water in the river, the green smell of grasses pushing up out of the soil, the scorched smell of someone burning dead branches.

One of the most striking elements of Shion Miura’s writing is its connectivity with nature. Every season she describes feels unique, warming us or chilling us with painstakingly crafted language. 

From the moment Hirano’s train enters the mountains, the narration appreciates nature’s beauty without beating you over the head with it. It’s a serene experience, and one that even foreshadows upcoming events. For instance, the first indication we have that things will be different is when Hirano marvels at how clean the water is. Later, a wildfire rages in the forest after a warning in the mountain’s sounds. 

Shion Miura balances detail beautifully with kinetic language and voice, providing us with an authentic look at life through Hirano’s lens. She highlights his wonder as a city boy entering the natural world for the first time in a way that we can believe, and Hirano spins us his story as easily as an old friend, marvelling at clean rivers, vast skies, and mighty trees in a way that feels deeply relatable, and in a way that opens our senses to the sights, sounds, smells, and sensations of life in Japan’s countryside. We take this formative journey with him and maybe it changes us too.

No matter how beautiful Kamusari is, though, Miura doesn’t shy away from showing us its teeth. From leeches and ticks to natural disasters, The Easy Life in Kamusari doesn’t let us forget that death and injury are only one careless mistake away. There is comedy, there is heart, and there is wonder, but one throughline of Hirano’s experience is a warning: “don’t let your guard down.”

Pop Culture Parallels with The Easy Life in Kamusari

I thought instantly of the Sea of Corruption—that vast, poisonous forest in the anime Nausicaä that chokes all living things. “The afternoon spores are flying . . .” I never expected to see anything so fantastical in real life.

Beyond Hirano’s direct reference to Hayao Miyazaki’s 1984 film, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, I found his time in Kamusari brought a few other titles to mind:

Stardew Valley

Released in 2016, ConcernedApe’s hit farming simulator sees the player character leave their dreary life in the city to live in Pelican Town. Once there, they must learn to live off the land, integrate with the community, and restore the farmhouse left to them by their deceased grandfather. 

The player takes a bus ride to the valley that reminds me very much of Hirano’s journey into Kamusari’s mountains–green as far as the eye can see, and blue, blue water. A definite change from the cramped, dreary office scene we were shown moments before, and the chance for a new life, a new start, provided you’re willing to put in the work. 

Much like how the player has a brush with the spiritual after their encounter with the wizard, Hirano also encounters the spiritual in a way that befuddles (and arguably, eventually sharpens) his senses. Following this, he is more in tune with the land, just as the farmer can understand the Junimos after drinking the forest potion.

Spirited Away

Hayao Miyazaki’s 2001 fantasy Spirited Away came to mind for similar reasons as Stardew Valley. 

As a super quick rundown, the opening of Spirited Away goes something like this: while moving house, Chihiro and her parents lose their way and stumble across a mysterious tunnel in the woods. The tunnel is marked with a Dōsojin statue, which are thought to ward off evil spirits. Chihiro is resistant to travel through the creepy tunnel at first, but her parents insist, and so she has no choice but to follow. On the other side, they find a seemingly abandoned amusement park that is actually in the realm of spirits.

Once again, we see a young character thrust by their parents into formative change. Upon being separated from her mother and father, Chihiro is taken to work at a bathhouse for spirits. Life there is isolating and harsh at first, but Chihiro earns the respect of her peers by enduring and pushing herself. Hirano has much the same experience with the Kamusari community– especially the logging team–and, like Chihiro, finds familiarity with spirits he didn’t even know existed before. 

Final Fantasy X

Square Enix’s (then SquareSoft) 2001 installment in the Final Fantasy series stars Tidus, a sportsball (“Blitzball”) player from a high-tech city called Zanarkand. Put simply, a freak incident sees Tidus hurled from this cradle of comfort and convenience into Spira: a modest world where advanced technology (or “machina”) is a sin. 

Throughout the game, Tidus has to adapt to new customs and traditions. He first lands on Besaid Island where life is starkly different from Zanarkand; rather than skyscraper apartments and fancy houseboats, the people of Besaid live in modest huts. The biggest building in the village is their temple. Though Blitzball does have a place in Spira and a lot of people follow it,  faith (“Yevon”) is king here, and many of Spira’s laws are based on it. 

As an outsider, Tidus is inherently treated with apprehension, which isn’t helped by his attempts to question and challenge Yevon’s rules. Hirano runs into similar troubles where, in relation to the god of the land, he is at first mistrusted and held at arm’s length for not being born in Kamusari. As with Tidus, this isolation forces him to introspect and wonder whether he will ever truly belong or not, due to the place of his birth. 

Persona 4

Atlus’s 2008 title is another great example of a protagonist leaving the city for a life in the country. Much like Hirano, the player character is sent away to live in a rural setting for one year. A lot of the game revolves around him familiarising himself with the town (Inaba) and its community, and making a place for himself by making as many friends as possible. Interestingly, these friendships actually help the player character in combat, much like Hirano’s friendships helped him grow as both a logging trainee and as a person. 

Another similarity I wanted to highlight between Persona 4 and The Easy Life in Kamusari is the shared, significant imagery of fog. In both stories it creates a sense of mystery and draws attention to the fact that something is being hidden. Both stories also take place in rural communities that are known for some craft export or another, and are deeply intertwined with the gods. 

Grave of the Fireflies

Isao Takahata’s 1988 war film is one I’ll probably never watch again, but that deserves to be watched at least once. It’s incredible, and that’s exactly why it hurts so much.

It finds relevance here because during his time in Kamusari, Hirano sees his very first fireflies. He remarks how they don’t get them in the city, much to the surprise of his mentor, Yoki. I found this interesting, as there are literal reasons why this could be–light pollution, for one. However, I also wondered if this was Miura making a commentary about the quality and appreciation of life in big cities. 

When the fireflies appear in Kamusari, it’s an event; everyone rushes out to admire them. In the city, there are so many distractions and attractions demanding your attention that I wonder if Hirano would’ve thought to appreciate the sight of fireflies back in Yokohama. Does this speak to communities like Kamusari having a greater appreciation for the small things, and perhaps for life itself? 

There’s the matter of aging populations leading to the loss of villages just like Kamusari. There’s dying arts and trades just like the logging business Hirano is part of. As well, we see time and again that life in the mountains is fraught with danger, and that often, young or old, one mistake can cost a logger their life. 

Reading about that, it’s hard not to think of the film’s famous line, “Why do fireflies have to die so soon?”

That last one’s a bit sad, so I’ll also mention that Hirano’s experiences in Kamusari brought to mind a song from Eluveitie’s 2014 album, Origins. There’s a point where Hirano visits Yokohama again during break, and the changes in him reminded me of this absolute joy of a song:

Location does matter, and when we find the place we belong, it becomes a part of us. Even when we’re far away, it’s part of us. We see this in Hirano; the way he longs for Yokohama. The way his heart stays in Kamusari.

What I Learned From The Easy Life in Kamusari by Shion Miura

But here in Kamusari, it’s like Granny Shige says: “You’ve come this far. You’re almost there. There’s nobody around to compete with, so don’t rush.”

At the beginning, I mentioned I read The Easy Life in Kamusari at exactly the right time. Sometimes books are just like that when you’re feeling some kind of way, whether you’re aware of it or not. And I was in a serious creative slump.

I tried to push myself to write and wondered, “What’s the point? It’s not like it’ll ever come to anything.” Of course, I can’t know how true or false that assumption is. All I knew for sure was I hit a wall. I wasn’t enjoying the writing itself anymore. I didn’t know how to move forward. The pressure was always there to, “Finish it, be successful now. You’re wasting time. You should be way ahead of here by now.”

And truthfully, with all that pressure weighing me down, I wondered if I even wanted that anymore. In The Easy Life in Kamusari, there’s talk of how snow weighing too heavy on a tree can break it. And with writing, the skill I’d always felt best at, the only thing I ever thought I’d be successful or good at, the figurative snow was laying pretty heavy on me.

In reading The Easy Life in Kamusari, I slowly learned to let go. I took a break. I read for fun. Heck, even this blog is just a hobby. As long as I’m paying the bills, I figure things can happen at their own pace, in their own time. There’s no use forcing it. 

Much like Hirano trying to flee from Kamusari without a plan, getting there faster won’t mean things are better. If anything, it’ll mean I fail to appreciate the place I’m at now, both literally and figuratively. I’d been losing sight of my family, my friends, the lovely trees outside, the harbour view around the corner, the quiet and the lively moments both. So maybe I take the scenic route once in a while, let that conversation run a little longer, try my hand at DnD, watch a movie. The things that refill my creative well. The things I’ll remember when my life looks different. The things I’ll regret not making time for. 

Maybe someday I’ll finish that book. And maybe when I do, it’ll just be for me. That was an option I’d never even considered before reading this book: that not being published wasn’t something to be ashamed of; that the story is its own journey, and the hard work its own reward. I’ll have grown for the experience, just like Hirano in Kamusari village.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. I hope you’ll come to visit now and then. There are so many stories I’m excited to share with you, but in case this is the only content of mine you read, I want to leave you with this:

Whatever you love, love it for yourself first. Do it because it makes you happy.

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6 responses to “Letting Go, the Kamusari Way: The Easy Life in Kamusari by Shion Miura”

  1. […] This year’s come with a lot of lessons for me; thanks to The Slow Life in Kamusari, I also learned to combat my anxiety and the pressure I put on m… […]

  2. […] In the same way as Shion Miura’s novel The Slow Life in Kamusari, Stardew Valley has taught me some important lessons about taking things as they come and relying on others. It used to be that I thought I could do everything alone, like I thought suffering and shutting others out was some method of proving myself, or ensuring I did the job ‘right’. As it turns out, that’s not the case, and it’s not healthy either.  […]

  3. […] you’re looking for more books about the quiet life, companionship, and the reward of hard work, I’ve got to recommend The Slow Life in Kamusari by Shion Miura. Set in rural Japan, the story follows a young city boy who learns the ways of life in the country […]

  4. […] you’re looking for more books about the quiet life, companionship, and the reward of hard work, I’ve got to recommend The Slow Life in Kamusari by Shion Miura. Set in rural Japan, the story follows a young city boy who learns the ways of life in the country […]

  5. […] In the same way as Shion Miura’s novel The Slow Life in Kamusari, Stardew Valley has taught me some important lessons about taking things as they come and relying on others. It used to be that I thought I could do everything alone, like I thought suffering and shutting others out was some method of proving myself, or ensuring I did the job ‘right’. As it turns out, that’s not the case, and it’s not healthy either.  […]

  6. […] This year’s come with a lot of lessons for me; thanks to The Slow Life in Kamusari, I also learned to combat my anxiety and the pressure I put on m… […]

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