Book review, from Tokyo – As winter looms and gardeners put up supports around pine trees to prepare them for heavy snow on the Japan Sea coast, winter themed books are being displayed in bookstores and libraries once again. After Halloween, in Japan, there’s Christmas and the New Year, which together can take up much of already limited shelf space, so I was glad to set eyes on a train chugging along through a cold winter night. 2024 Queen’s Knickers Award runner-up Yoko Mori’s 『ある星の汽車』(Aru hoshi no kisha, lit. A train on a star) detailed pencil drawings on the cover immediately catches the eye. A bird with a curved, dark-tipped beak sits beside a window on a train holding a pot on its lap. The all-too-familiar avian is one already consigned to natural history and pictures.
Turning the page, I learn that a boy and his father are on the train. He doesn’t know where they’re headed and asks if they will be getting off soon. His father doesn’t answer, but instead sits quietly with his head bowed. As the train chugs on, the boy looks around the cabin. It is full of other passengers. Birds, beasts, and reptiles. His father doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get off anytime soon so he decides to talk a walk around.
Among them is the bird on the cover. It holds the pot dearly, telling the boy that it holds the seed of its favorite food, the fruit of a Calvaria tree. Seated nearby is a wolf, and a threesome of cats indigenous to some islands of Japan. The boy comes across a quiet pair seated in the same cabin. One wore majestic antlers and the other was wrapped in a luscious blue fur coat. They seem afraid, confiding in the boy that they are running away because of what they possessed. Right at the back of the train is a large group of noisy pigeons, who are obviously enjoying themselves. “We feel safe in a large group,” they chirp in their seemingly endless, idle chatter.
The train slows and stops, and the conductor motions to the bird with the curved beak. Clutching the pot dearly, it gets off on a station with a sign saying “1640”. The boy learns his name – the Mauritian Dodo. The train chugs along, and time and again, the conductor comes by and waves a passenger goodbye. The pair of majestic antlers disappears into the night, and so does the Bluebuck and its luscious blue coat. Even the back of the train has gone eerily quiet. At stop “1996” the window flies open and a flock of birds burst out into the starry sky, shrieking “We’re albatrosses!” The polar bear on board sighs, lamenting that it might soon be time for it get off too.
With every turn of the page, it seemed like some passenger or other would leave the train, never to be seen again. The train slows once again and stops. It’s “2016” and no one gets off, but instead, a lone passenger stands on the platform, waiting to get on. It is a young albatross. The other passengers rejoice at seeing a familiar face as the train chugs on, far away, off into the stars.
Mori’s illustrations in sepia set the scene for a calm, quiet, and somewhat melancholy read. I could almost hear the wind whistling quietly as the train trudged on, and feel the palpable tension in the cabin. Throughout the book, we are constantly aware that the boy and his father are also passengers on this one-way planetary ride. The joy of welcoming the young albatross on board was not simply from seeing a familiar face, but a sign of hope that other passengers might return. Despite sorrow and helplessness tinging the pages at each stop, the closing pages appeared that bit warmer and brighter. A quiet, contemplative story for those cold, winter nights ahead.
Note: The credits page has a list of years and names, and a short note about the short-tailed albatrosses.
『ある星の汽車』(Aru hoshi no kisha, lit. A train on a star) by Yoko Mori
Publisher: Fukuinkan Shoten, 2025