Five Unique Reads for Fall

We love reading books in translation for the unique perspective they provide, and Japanese books in particular are delightful to read. The writing style typically feels sparser and tighter than the expansive prose that American and English author’s favor. Japanese books deliver weird and wonderful intel in a refreshingly matter-of-fact way. We’ve been looking for another Japanese read in translation ever since reading Convenience Store Woman and were thrilled by Butter’s U.S. release in the spring of 2024.

Frankly labeled “a story of food and murder,” butter is about a female serial killer named Manako Kajii, in jail for luring Japanese businessmen into her clutches with her enticing cooking before she murders them. She refuses to speak to the press (calling to mind a previous CDS fave, The Silent Patient), until a journalist named Rika Machida writes to her, requesting not comment on the murders, but one of her recipes (beef stew, to be specific). Kajii writes back. Rika is thrilled at the prospect of bonding through food, then luring Kajii into a detailed confession. What happens instead is that Rika finds Kajii’s recipes changing her own life in ways she never expected.

This book appeals because of its inventiveness: there aren’t many books out there driven by plots like these, and we have to know how this all ends. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that the book has a gorgeous cover in on-trend butter yellow. (We don’t judge books by their covers, but it doesn’t hurt when they’re pretty).

The Lagos Wife is about Nicole Oluwari, a Nigerian woman leading a perfect life–on the surface. From London, she moved to Lagos for love, and thanks to her Nigerian husband, lives in a large, beautiful home and socializes with a group of similarly privileged friends. Until she doesn’t. One day, Nicole goes missing without a trace. Her estranged Aunt becomes determined to find her, but as she continues digging up secrets about her niece’s past, she comes dangerously close to revealing things about herself she never planned to. This one looks like a unique and exciting twist on the thrillers we know and love.

Published in 1985, this is the oldest book on our list, and also the longest. It’s the first book in a tetralogy (four-book series), and it won the Pulitzer Prize. Clocking in at 864 pages, finishing this is no small feat, but the jacket describes it as “the grandest novel ever written about the last defiant wilderness of America.” It’s a western novel, about two Texas Rangers who join up to go on one last adventure together, from the small South Texas town they thought they’d never leave all the way up to the wilds of Montana. Those are just two of the characters in this epic story of America—and it’s not just the plot that people rave about—McMurtry has been called one of the greatest American storytellers of our generation.

We can’t wait to dive into this one as the weather gets cooler and we find ourselves with more time indoors. It’s certainly a commitment, but one that seems well worth it.

Like Lonesome Dove, this one is a bit of a commitment. At 760+ pages, we’ll need time to settle in with this one, but from what we’ve read and heard, it will be time well-spent.

The End of August is a multi-generational family story, translated from Korean. It follows the life of a running prodigy, Lee Woo-cheol. He was an Olympic contender in the 1930s who gave up his dreams when Japan occupied Korea, as it would mean running under Japan’s flag, and not his own country’s.

Years later, his granddaughter is living in Japan, training for a marathon, and decides she wants a group of Korean shamans to hold a ritual that connects her with him. His ghost appears, alongside other ghosts of Korea’s distant, occupied past. This genre-bending novel seems so different from anything we’ve read in years—we’re determined to get our hands on it and see how Miri brings this ambitious, genre-bending novel about families, identity, and country to life.

Emilia Hart’s Weyward is another multi-generational tale with a historical fiction bent. The story takes us between 2019, 1619, and 1942.

In 2019, we have Kate, a woman fleeing London for her deceased great aunt’s cottage on the English coast to escape an abusive boyfriend. The cottage—and her great-aunt—have always been shrouded in mystery, and she believes the secrets she’s searching for lie within the cottage.

In 1619, a woman named Altha, long well-versed in natural healing modalities, is accused of witchcraft when a local farmer gets stampeded to death. Though the connection between Altha’s interests and the farmer’s death is tenuous at best, she’s the prime suspect—but she’s determined to do whatever she can to stay alive.
1942 brings us into the middle of World War II, where we meet a woman named Violet, stuck in her family’s once-grand estate, forced to partake only in what’s deemed “ladylike,” such as piano and painting, and unable to access the enriching curriculum her brother receives. She’s also mourning her deceased mother—and the only memories she has left of her.

Hart somehow weaves these three stories together. It’s difficult to see their connection at face value (is Violet’s mother Kate’s great aunt? Where does Altha fit into this?), so we’re very excited to see how it all might come together.