THE GUEST CAT

 Authour : Takashi Hiraide, Translated from the Japanese by Eric Selland

Publisher : Picador, Year 2014; Pages 140

 Review by Indra Mani Lal

Excerpts :

( ) Once Chibi had learned how she could get into the little house, she would slip quietly inside as long as we left the door open a crack. She would never cause any mischief. She would simply stroll through the house in a leisurely fashion. Often she hid her soft body, with its pattern of lampblack spots floating on her pure white coat of fur, between the various objects in the room. She never made a sound. Nor would she allow us to hold her. If you tried to hold her she would let out a barely audible mew, bite your hand softly, and then slip out of your arms.

( ) Once she caught sight of the shrimp, Chibi could not contain her excitement. Her behavior was completely different from when she was offered fried fish or sashimi. But as always, my wife called to her and, tearing off a piece of shrimp with her fingers, extended her hand towards Chibi’s mouth. The fur on Chibi’s back stood up like a shark’s dorsal fin. Her tail swelled up like a raccoon’s. Having finished off that morsel in the blink of an eye – perhaps it was the taste, or the texture, or how it went down as smoothly – she became all the more excited.

( ) As this became my habit each morning, the skimmer gradually started to fly straight for the water as soon as I began spraying and would stay there in the waterfall which hung in midair for a long while. I’d read in a book that the male of the species is solitary and tends to stake out a fairly extensive territory, and prefers being near water. Because of this I knew it must always be the same one. Just as I was about to utter the word ‘friend’ he flew away. But I enjoyed his company while I could. One day near the end of August, the blue-skimmer was there on the clothes line, still young and strong, copulating with a yellow female whose tail was raised and rested on his head, so that together they formed what looked like a bracelet in the shape of a distorted heart.

( ) Sitting into the old man’s comfortable sofa for the long afternoon, I would watch the butterflies and bees buzz around the veranda. Eventually they would steal into the darkness of the parlour, then, drifting from room to room, would sometimes end up staying a long while. Once a Blue Admiral fluttered in, its implausible blue enhanced by its black wings, and sat for a while on the edge of one of the cushions. So that’s how the year passed – 1989, a year in which we entered a new era with its own new name – and summer dissolved into autumn and autumn deepened.

( ) Chibi usually behaved coolly toward humans, and yet - when she came from the neighbours of the eastern side – she seemed completely transformed, sticking her nose into every corner of the expanse of greenery, intensely focused, plunging her front feet into things, jumping and prancing, taking off running in circles at top speed as if she were completely out of control. The garden was like a forest to Chibi. Sometimes I’d go on long walks with her, the energy rippling through her whole body; she would race recklessly around one particular area and then climb high up into one of the trees.

( ) Chibi came and went three times a day, staying for around three hours each visit. After the neighbours (her official owners) went to sleep, she would slip through the boundary hedge, and come over to this little house where the lights were still brightly lit. Then she would show that she wanted to play, and a game of ball would begin in the dark garden. After a while she would tire of the game and in the predawn hours retire to the closet and sleep.

( ) On another day, she came bolting through the open door facing the little garden of the guesthouse like a bullet, and immediately hid in the tiny space between some furniture and a small storage box. With her backside facing me, she was shaking so hard I felt sorry for her. When I turned toward the door there was Cal, the calico cat that belonged to the neighbours to the south, eyes blazing, ready to pounce. Somehow this attack on Chibi looked to be more jealousy-based than territorial, perhaps because Chibi came and went as she liked between the two houses.

( ) I’d heard that cats offer their complete trust only to the people who are feeding them.  So they only reveal their only cute side to their owners. Hence it follows that we – the odd couple living next door who were not really Chibi’s owners but were merely getting a taste of what cat ownership might be like on an ad hoc basis – were most likely not shown her most coquettish behavior.

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My take : A young couple living in rented premises encounter a cute cat and mutual love develops. Description of the rooms, furniture, shadows on windows, attached garden and the cat movement give you a vivid picture of the life they live. Dialogues are to a minimum in the book. A window to Japanese living to some extent is seen.

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Subject type : Fiction

Narrative Style : First person descriptive

Readability : Enjoyable

Reader’s Interest : Curiosity maintained as to what happens next

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