Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa

Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa is the story of a cook named Sentaro, an older women named Tokue, and a teenage school girl named Wakana. Sentaro works in a confectionary shop selling dorayaki, a Japanese pancake filled with red bean paste. Sentaro spent a couple years in jail and was offered the job by a man who is now deceased, who paid off Sentaro's debt. Sentaro has been slowly paying him back. The new owner is the previous owner's wife. 

Sentaro has been using pre-made bean paste in the dorayaki he sells when elderly Tokue comes in asking him for a job. Tokue has strangely twisted hands and he's not even sure if she could do a job if he hired her, although he could use the help. But, then she brings him some of her bean paste to taste and he's sold. If she will make the bean paste, sales will go up and he'll be able to pay off his debt to the new owner much faster. 

Tokue is a hard worker and she makes friends with the young schoolgirls who come into the shop very easily. But, then something happens to cause people to stop coming to the store. If he doesn't turn things around, the owner is going to either sell the store or change it to something else entirely. 

Convinced that there is something magical about Tokue's ability to make excellent bean paste, Sentaro has an idea. He will go talk to Tokue at her home. Wakana goes along and while there, they learn the sad history of the people who were forced out of their family homes, never to return to their families. Tokue was one of them. Can Tokue's wisdom help Sentaro? 

Highly recommended - I've got to watch the movie, which appears to be called "Sweet Bean" without the word "paste". I just peeked online, a bit ago. Sweet Bean Paste is a sweet story with a wonderful theme: your worth is not about what you do for a living. Just being alive means you have value. So lovely. 

©2021 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Finna by Nate Marshall

fin-na /ˈfinə/ contraction: (1) going to; intending to. rooted in African American Vernacular English. (2) eye dialect spelling of "fixing to." (3) Black possibility; Black futurity; Blackness as tomorrow.

dispatch from the 6th circle

Crawfordsville, IN

I count the Confederate flags

around town, a surprise considering the geography.

what earnest confusion, honest mistake it takes

to fly a rebel flag in the North. this makes the most

sense: us turning against us, the cannibal instinct, the

vote against self. self-hate is something i've known.

hear the way my voice lilts too many 

ways, my vocabularies wrestle themselves, scrap

amongst the street in between my teeth. watch my mouth slang

& stutter into eloquence. watch my mouth whistle

this simple Dixie.

~p. 86

If you hang around my blog much, you might remember that I accidentally bought the wrong book entitled Finna. I mean . . . you wouldn't think there'd be two by that name, would you? Here's a link to the other Finna, by Nino Cipri.

Finna by Nate Marshall is the book I intended to buy, a book of poetry from which I read an excerpt online somewhere (Instagram, maybe?) that I absolutely loved. Although I didn't buy it specifically because of the fact that the author is Black, that's a definite side benefit because I am trying to buy more books by people of color to amplify their voices. 

You can see the author is both serious about racism and playful. I enjoyed his ability to stab the heart with irony.

Highly recommended - An outstanding poetry collection. Sharp, insightful, descriptive of both pain and anger but with humor. I love this collection of poetry about blackness and claiming one's name, place, and people. I gave it 5 stars and am so glad I bought a copy so I can return to it. 

©2020 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.