When her husband drowns, the task of transporting eight splendid carp to the Imperial Palace falls to impoverished widow Miyuki. It’s a muddy, arduous journey for a woman with a yoke and heavy baskets of water. It’s a hazardous journey too: not only are there murderous bandits around, but fickle gods, ravenous wildlife, and the terrifying possibility of the mythical anus-entering razor-beaked kappa.

She sensed that life without her husband was going to be a succession of troublesome questions that she would have to try to answer on her own. (18)

Miyuki’s outbound journey through the sodden mountain forests was my favourite part of the story. She’s a passive, uneducated, pungent heroine - her body infused with the stench of village life and labour. Yet she maintains dignity throughout her odyssey, and is shrewd, clear-eyed, and perceptive. As she walks, she reflects upon her husband Katsuro and their married life - in vivid, sticky detail.

Miyuki has a number of strange encounters en route - one of which changes her destiny and when she arrives at the Imperial Palace, she receives an unusual commission from the elderly Director of Gardens and Ponds.

Among my favourite scenes are the jousts between svelte assistant Kusakabe and underdog Miyuki. Decoin’s sense of drama is pitch perfect and much more is conveyed in Miyuki’s brief replies than the number of words suggests.

When Miyuki arrives in the city, the novel shifts focus and the narrative builds towards a new event. I found myself thrown off course during this segue, and assume I missed foreshadowing clues.

Decoin’s writing is elegant and sensual: “She was too emaciated to be the sort of mistress he liked; in only a short time, grief had hollowed out her cheeks and accentuated her slender, windswept figure.” (9) I like the combination of slender and windswept. And the imagery sourced from within the realm of the story, gives the writing a localised feel: “Miyuki’s thoughts had scattered like the thousand grains of rice that form a solid ball, warm and fragrant, in the bowl.” (16)

For super-keen readers, note this early paragraph:

“She compared her journey to Heian Kyō to those summer days that begin with the contours of the landscape masked by sheets of mist… But she sensed that this opacity would be shattered as soon as she set off, and that she would then see the world as it really was, with its positive aspects and its harmful sides. Then, once she had delivered her fish, when they were gliding around in the pools of the temples, her life would flatten out again and she would return to obscurity.” (27)

I would certainly read more by Didier Decoin - and lucky for me he has written literally dozens of other novels. The Office of Gardens and Ponds was published on May 2, 2019.

Many thanks to MacLehose Press for my advanced proof. It’s a beautiful thing in itself.