For fans of Sayaka Murata, Mieko Kawakami, and translated fiction in general, I can’t recommend Hunchback by Saou Ichikawa enough – I suspect it will be your next fun, short read. Hunchback is the first novel by a disabled author to win Japan’s top literary award and was immediately recognised as one of the most important Japanese books of the 21st century. Described by Sayaka Murata herself as “filled with unforgettable insight,” Hunchback, translated into English by Polly Barton, follows the story of a young woman who has all the money she could ever need but was born with a congenital muscle disorder, preventing her from using that wealth to live life on her own terms.
The protagonist, Shaka Isawa, lives in a residential home left to her by her parents. She spends her days tweeting about wanting an abortion, writing smut, and attempting to complete her studies, though she struggles due to her disability – until one of her carers proposes an unexpected idea. Ichikawa deliberately creates a sense of distance between the reader and Shaka through specific language choices regarding disability. I believe this is intentional, highlighting our ignorance of the realities disabled people face and the privilege of mobility that many take for granted.
There’s something about authors of translated fiction – they dive deep into their topics with full force. At just over 100 pages, Hunchback confronts society’s desexualisation of disabled people, making you consider Shaka’s desires and struggles, and empathise with her greatly. For able-bodied people, forming relationships – romantic, platonic, or sexual – comes easily. We can connect and engage physically without thinking twice, a privilege we often take for granted.
The book raises important questions: Where are the stories of disabled love and sexuality? Why are they overlooked, and how can we change that? Why do we assume disabled people don’t have the same desires as us? If anything, it highlights society’s ignorance.
As mentioned, the language and anecdotes highlight this issue. The medical terms and stories of disabled activists show how little we know about their impact. Without them, many disabled people wouldn’t have the rights, tools, or support they need daily.
Putting politics aside, the book is a quick read, starting with Shaka’s first piece of smut written for an online forum, which she publishes under a pseudonym, where users are keen for her next chapter and praise her writing. It’s blunt, unapologetically crude, and smut in its purest form. This is just another example of Ichikawa pushing the edges of societal expectations especially for disabled individuals. As society often overlooks the sexuality of disabled individuals, Ichikawa creates a character who embodies a wide range of exploratory, risqué, and passionate sexual desires.
Ichikawa also explores themes of money and vulnerability. Without giving too much away, there’s a deal made between Shaka and a carer that doesn’t go as she expects. It delves into Shaka’s vulnerability and the lengths people will go to in order to fulfill a desire.I found this exchange quite sad – it really makes you feel for Shaka. It also highlights the harsh reality of how an able-bodied person can take advantage of a disabled individual, showing how Shaka’s limitations prevent her from protecting herself when needed. This is a perfect example of how Ichikawa evokes empathy for Shaka through her writing.
As a debut, I think this is incredibly wry, fantastic, relevant, and funny. I’m excited to see where Ichikawa takes her work next and I will definitely be picking up her next book. However, I do feel there could have been more exploration of Shaka’s desire for an abortion. Shaka becomes obsessed with the idea of having a baby and the ability to terminate the pregnancy, largely because she sees able-bodied people who have that option and wants to understand what it’s like. Yet, the book doesn’t fully address this idea, and it seems to build up without much resolution. Perhaps this was intentional, to show that sometimes desires remain unfulfilled simply because, if you can’t physically achieve something, you can’t. But from a reader’s perspective, I think it would have strengthened the story if there had been some kind of conclusion or development around this theme.
Overall, I think this was a quick, unique, and fun read. It is something you can read in a day and enjoy and laugh at a bit, that truly sucks you in with the weird anecdotes and Shaka as a main character is truly interesting to delve into.
Words by Emily Fletcher
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