![]() ![]() Shy and a little skittish at first, the cat begins to visit our narrator. Their neighbour’s little boy has persuaded his mother to let him take in a stray cat. In their mid-thirties and childless, they lead a quiet life, occasionally seeing friends and helping out their landlady. They both work at home: he’s a writer, an editor who’s taken the plunge into freelance writing, and she’s a proofreader. It’s narrated by a man who lives with his wife in the grounds of a large house with a rambling garden. So I read the first few pages, and here we are. All this rigmarole is by way of self-justification as to why I’m about to review a book about a cat – not the sort of book I ever expected to include on this blog but I was sent a copy, it’s by a Japanese author which always piques my interest and it’s published by Picador whose list I like very much. I’m fully aware of why the first syllable of ‘Meow’ is what it is – it’s all about them after all. I have one and I’m fond of her but she knows her place – on the sofa most of the time, naturally. I’m not the kind of person who’s obsessed with cats. ![]()
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