Friday, August 22, 2025

The Woman in the Purple Skirt by Natsuko Imamura

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

 

Last year my wife and I visited New York City together, and as part of that visit, we stopped by a Japanese book store. Our second kid has taken a number of semesters of Japanese in college, after learning a bit on her own - so probably 3rd grade level. We got a few books as presents, but I also checked out the shelf of books in translation and put a few titles on my list. This was one of them. 

 


Like many of the shorter Japanese books I have read or listened to over the last few years, this one has a rather surreal feel to it. On the one hand, not much of anything happens for the first three quarters of the book. It is very mundane. But it is also increasingly creepy and menacing, until all kinds of hell breaks loose in the last part of the book. 

 

Also, like other books, names are rarely used. The titular character does have a name, but for the most part, she is referred to as The Woman in the Purple Skirt. 

 

The narrator is The Woman in the Yellow Cardigan, and we really do not figure out her identity until near the end. She is a thoroughly unreliable narrator, and at least borderline malevolent. If there is a villain in the story, she is it. 

 

The book opens innocently enough:

 

There’s a person living not too far from me known as the Woman in the Purple Skirt. She only ever wears a purple-colored skirt – which is why she has this name.

At first I thought the Woman in the Purple Skirt must be a young girl. This is probably because she is small and delicate looking, and because she has long hair that hangs down loosely over her shoulders. From a distance, you’d be forgiven for thinking she was about thirteen. But look carefully, from up close, and you see she’s not young – far from it. She has age spots on her cheeks, and that shoulder-length black hair is not glossy – it’s quite dry and stiff. About once a week, the Woman in the Purple Skirt goes to a bakery in the local shopping district and buys herself a little custard-filled cream bun. I always pretend to be taking my time deciding which pastries to buy, but in reality I’m getting a good look at her. And as I watch, I think to myself: She reminds me of somebody. But who?

 

At first, it seems like the narrator is just a lonely and shy woman who wants to have the Woman in the Purple Skirt as a friend, but cannot work up the courage to talk to her. 

 

But as the story progresses, the narrator becomes more and more of a creepy stalker, following her target from the shadows, getting into her personal business, and more. 

 

One of the first incidents is the narrator working to get The Woman in the Purple Skirt to apply for a job at the same hotel she works at, which happens. But after she initially seems to be making friends and becoming popular, she makes the fatal mistake of starting a relationship with the director of housekeeping - a married man. 

 

From there, things spiral to a rather crazy ending. I won’t spoil it, but it isn’t expected. There are several endings that you think might happen that don’t, and rather than either a happy ending or a catastrophe, there is more ambiguity. 

 

It is also at the end that you realize that there are at least three competing stories about what really happened, and it is impossible to know who - if anyone - is telling the full truth. 

 

Along the way, there are some bits of rather pointed satire. For example, the way that hotel staff tend to be marginalized and underpaid; but also how they fight back in little ways. There is plenty of cattiness between the staff, the unfortunate tendency of women to fight and denigrate each other, rather than standing together. There is plenty of male entitlement. 

 

There are also some delightful passages, such as the friendship between The Woman in the Purple Skirt and the neighborhood children. 

 

The book is short - under four hours on audiobook - and would likely be a fast read in print. It starts slow, but draws you in as it goes on, even as one becomes more and more horrified by the narrator’s behavior. Check it out. 

 

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