03 Aug Book Review of Fifty Sounds
Book Review: Fifty Sounds by Francesca Rhydderch
When I first picked up Fifty Sounds by Francesca Rhydderch, it was with a dual curiosity: I was eager to delve into her interpretation of Wittgenstein’s thoughts on language, and I wanted a glimpse into the unique linguistic landscape of Japan through her eyes. However, what unfolded was an intimate tapestry of confessions, experiences, and explorations that challenged my initial expectations while making me reflect on the essence of identity, both personal and cultural.
Rhydderch’s memoir offers a layered look at her life as an expat in Japan—a place where she grapples with complex relationships and conflicting emotions toward the culture. Beneath the surface of her experiences lies a fascinating study of identity formation, shaped not only by language and place but also by love and longing. Each essay is aptly named with onomatopoetic titles, which gives a playful nod to the sounds that permeate her journey, though I found these more stylistic constraints than reflections of the linguistic depth I was keen on. It felt at times like Wittgenstein himself took a backseat, rather than steering her narrative.
One of the aspects that resonated deeply with me was Rhydderch’s portrayal of the universal expat experience. When she shares her interactions with locals—her growing irritation at their uncritical national pride—I couldn’t help but replace her observations with my own experiences in England. I found this uncanny resonance to be a striking reminder that, regardless of geography, the challenges of assimilating into a foreign culture often mirror one another. Her narrative paints the picture of a wider phenomenon: the ambivalence many feel while straddling two worlds, a theme that is indeed universal.
A poignant passage encapsulates her frustration with Japan’s uncritical patriotism, a reflection of complacency that, to my surprise, echoed my own thoughts about nationalism in England. "It felt like the smugness attached not just to the qualities of Japan, but also to the meta-activity of leaning back into and parroting the received narrative." Her ability to articulate this sentiment made my heart race; it felt as if she was vocalizing my frustrations.
Rhydderch’s writing is both elegant and visceral. She captures the essence of her bilingual identity beautifully, illustrating the metamorphosis of her self as she navigates language barriers. Her thoughts on translation emphasize the complex dance of identities, stating, “I have watched my identity contort into rainbow fractals, vanish entirely, and then return as a pink-spotted dragon.” Her whimsical imagery invites readers into her contrasting experiences—an enchanting exploration that evokes wonder.
Despite my initial hopes for a rigorous intellectual exploration of Wittgenstein, I found myself captivated by Rhydderch’s candid, confessional tone. In opening her heart and mind, she invites us to share in her emotional landscape, making the reading experience feel remarkably charged and relatable.
For anyone who enjoys a blend of memoir and intellectual inquiry, Fifty Sounds could be a beautiful discovery. Rhydderch’s reflections on identity, language, and culture resonate deeply, inviting readers to consider their own complexities within an increasingly global world. As I closed the book, I found myself not only grateful for the insights shared but also enriched in my understanding of the shared human experience—what it means to belong, to challenge, and occasionally, to feel displaced.
