Yoru Sumino: Review

First introduced to Yoru Sumino through the widely popular anime movie, I Want To Eat Your Pancreas, I was immediately drawn to their unique writing style as well as the complex, yet seemingly ordinary, characters in their novels. So far into their career, they have written many novels, a few of which have gotten manga adaptations. The ones that have English translations are, in chronological order by when they were written, I Want To Eat Your Pancreas (2014), I Had That Same Dream Again (2016), and At Night, I Become A Monster (2016). All three delve into human interactions and how those interactions can change people for the worse or for the better. There are a few other books and short stories they have written, but it is tough to find books that have been translated. It is also hard to find a complete list of their works. In a few years, a translation will most likely come out for their newest work, I Have A Secret, as well as the sequel to their first hit, To My Father and To Someone in My Memories.

Anyone would jump at a book or show called something as grotesque as the words “I want to eat your pancreas.” Is it a zombie movie? Is it gory? Is it about cannibalism? These are all questions someone might ask. As it turns out, it was none of the above. This strange announcement is the declaration of giving and taking love, spoken between two friends who only knew each other for a short amount of time, yet understood each other better than any other person had. Although I hate to admit it, I was also drawn to the title instead of the emotional story. I was expecting something straight out of a horror movie, even though the movie poster was the complete opposite of one. In this book, our introverted main character, who was perfectly content with having no friends, is introduced. He finds companionship in books and chooses to spend his time alone. Then enters our lead female character, a popular girl who hates reading, but she has a secret that she tells our main character alone. On the surface, they seem to be complete opposites, but that is what allows them to bond so well. They stick with each other, both physically and mentally, until the bittersweet end.

After having read I Want To Eat Your Pancreas and cried all night over it, I decided to take a look at their other novels as well. Many critics have said that they hate how Sumino writes their main characters, but in my opinion, they have a certain charm to them. For example, I Had That Same Dream Again is told from the perspective of an elementary schooler. Perhaps a young kid would not have the same thoughts as the person reading the story, and many things the character does or says could be spontaneous and erratic. But that realism is what helps develop the innocence of the main character. Since everything is seen through that character’s perspective, it is up to the reader to interpret her interactions with her friends and the deeper meaning behind the story.

The same critics also talk about the main character of At Night, I Become A Monster in a similar light. They claim that he is unrelatable and a terrible person. While it might be true that he is, indeed, a terrible person, to say that he is unrelatable is unrealistic. Most people may want to believe that they are always an amazing person—that they are always kind no matter what —but what the main character of this novel reveals is that humans are imperfect and they are often cruel. After consuming the story, the reader is left with one question: Who are the true monsters? Is a beast or creature out in the night the monster, or is it you, the reader, the human, the person who could easily turn on another for fear of not maintaining their reputation?

There is a beauty in how Yoru Sumino writes and describes the events in their novels. They focus on the main character’s thoughts, only writing from one perspective. We, as readers, can delve deeper into the mind of the character and insert ourselves into their shoes. This easily leads us to think: What would we do? Most people would think that they would, of course, choose to do good, do the “right thing,” but when the character’s actions are completely different from what your idea of the “right thing” is, you start questioning what you would really do in a situation like theirs. Sumino also writes about mental illnesses and depression in a fascinating way. They never directly tell the reader if a character is suffering through depression, or if they have a mental illness that is directly affecting their actions and personality; instead, they give enough context clues that the reader can try to figure it out for themselves.

In what case are we the monsters of this world? Will realizing our faults make us better people? What is a person willing to sacrifice for their own safety and social standing? And, finally, how can loss affect our actions and our desire to continue living? These questions force us to wonder about who we actually are and why we do what we do, and Yoru Sumino’s characters, stories, and personalities ask me these questions that continue to make me think.