Books: Tatami Galaxy

By Tom Wilmot.

Any mention of The Tatami Galaxy usually brings to mind Masaaki Yuasa’s much-loved 2010 anime. The charming series has become something of a modern classic, sporting Yuasa’s trademark visuals while touching the hearts of audiences. The anime is an adaptation of the 2004 varsity novel of the same name by prize-winning Japanese author Tomihiko Morimi. If that name sounds familiar, then it’s likely because Morimi’s works have served as the source for several popular anime adaptations, including Penguin Highway (2018) and The Eccentric Family (2013). Now, almost twenty years after it first hit shelves, The Tatami Galaxy is back with an English translation, courtesy of Harper Collins.

The Tatami Galaxy concerns the misadventures of an unnamed male protagonist attending a prestigious Kyoto university on the hunt for an elusive treasure – a rose-coloured campus life. Frustrated at having wasted his first two years of college, our unlikely hero ponders what life might have been had he chosen to join a different social circle. We explore four parallel universes, each presenting a different life for our underwhelmed protagonist, dependent on the choice he made one fateful day below the campus clock tower.

Morimi’s novel is split into four parts, one for each of the bizarre social circles covered: the Ablutions film club, the Mellow softball club, a “Disciples Wanted” notice, and the underground organisation Lucky Cat Chinese Food. Written as an account from the point of view of our grumbling student hero, we see the stark differences and odd similarities between his alternate lives. The narrative structure is unorthodox, as we essentially work through four short stories, each dealing with similar characters and scenarios – well, all aside from the last account. Large passages of text are repeated word-for-word, delivering the same information as if it were the first time. This approach might be frustrating for some, even despite the slight differences in context and perspective. However, the ends justify the means as the final, world-hopping act ties the varying narrative threads together wonderfully. Morimi teases the reader with cryptic puzzle pieces along the way and trusts them to solve the various mysteries by the end. You’ll find yourself flipping between chapters as you read, returning to past worlds to paint a complete picture.

No matter what path he takes, our cynical narrator ends up irritated at how his university life has turned out, quick to blame everyone except his own impressionable self. Once described by Morimi as “rotten”, the protagonist is decidedly arrogant and endlessly whiny. His many flaws aren’t so much hidden as they are simply explained away: running away is described as a mere “strategic retreat” while opportunistic flirting is passed off as gentlemanly behaviour – and then there’s the matter of his library of “obscenities.” Much of the book’s laugh-out-loud humour comes from the protagonist’s barrage of eyebrow-raising excuses and his bubbling annoyance at the incompetence of those around him. In truth, our student hero is no less hapless than the vast majority of young adults who ship themselves off to university only to find themselves lost in the world. Were his situation not so widely sympathetic, our narrator might be insufferably pompous. As it is, he’s incorrigibly human.

In each parallel world, our protagonist finds himself thrown into a series of ludicrous scenarios: scouring Kyoto for a fabled scrubbing brush, abducting the love doll of a student foe, and joining the fight in a decades-long Masochistic Proxy-Proxy War – whatever that means. Alongside our protagonist at the heart of all these escapades is a grotesque, yokai-like companion named Ozu. We’re told almost immediately that Ozu is a despicable individual who mischievously dabbles in numerous university circles. Despite being the object of our hero’s frustrations and held responsible for derailing his student life, there’s a genuine kinship between the protagonist and Ozu. It’s tough to say how much of the novel is based on Morimi’s personal university experiences, but one wonders if there was an Ozu in his life.

The devious Ozu isn’t the only peer to become acquainted with the protagonist across all of his parallel lives. Our nameless student consistently crosses paths with Jogasaki, the head of Ablutions, Hanuki, a graduate turned dental hygienist, and Higuchi, a senior student with a band of loyal disciples. Depending on the path chosen by the protagonist, he’ll know a lot or very little about each of these figures – sometimes too much in the case of the face-licking Hanuki. Lastly, there’s Akashi, a cold and blunt “raven-haired maiden” who’s terrified of moths and, in each tale, enchants the protagonist with her level-headed manner. We spend time with this colourful band of characters through their interactions with the protagonist and get a complete picture of their university life through exploring his different worlds. While they’re all rather outlandish in appearance and habits, Morimi presents these side characters with sincerity, often touching on the tougher aspects of their lives before quickly moving on. Alongside the fun and games, there’s a sadness to these characters that echoes that of the protagonist. Nevertheless, one of the joys of the novel is hanging out with and learning about these characters as they band together to form a loosely knit friend group.

Reading The Tatami Galaxy gives one a newfound appreciation for the execution of Masaaki Yuasa’s electric adaptation. The prospect of putting the more abstract elements of Morimi’s novel to the screen must have been daunting, yet, together with screenwriter Makoto Ueda, Yuasa manages to not only faithfully adapt the narrative but expands on the source material. The novel’s four parallel worlds are increased to ten in the anime, each of which retains the spirit and sentiment of Morimi’s text, despite minor plot alterations. When one considers the prospect of infinite parallel worlds as presented in the novel, the anime’s additional adventures could easily be considered extended canon. When reading The Tatami Galaxy, it’s clear that the abstract-minded Yuasa, who would also animate Morimi’s The Night is Short Walk on Girl, was the perfect man for adapting this eccentric tale.

Following Emily Balistrieri’s award-nominated English language translation of The Tatami Galaxy is its sequel, Tatami Time Machine Blues, which is due to be published by Harper Collins this Autumn. The follow-up novel is inspired by Makoto Ueda’s 2001 stage production, Summer Time Machine Blues, and has already had an anime adaptation debut, courtesy of studio Science Saru. Until we’re invited to spend time with these characters again, a life-affirming and very witty trip through Tomihiko Morimi’s The Tatami Galaxy is a more than welcome escape. Embracing life’s fickle nature, the novel encourages us to appreciate what’s dangling before our eyes and not to let the little rose-coloured moments pass us by.

The Tatami Galaxy is available in English from Harper Collins.