Scattered all over the earth /

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

Welcome to the not-too-distant future: Japan, having vanished from the face of the earth, is now remembered as "the land of sushi." Hiruko, its former citizen and a climate refugee herself, has a job teaching immigrant children in Denmark with her invented language Panska (Pan-Scandinavian): "homemade language. no country to stay in. three countries I experienced. insufficient space in brain. so made new language. homemade language."

As she searches for anyone who can still speak her mother tongue, Hiruko soon makes new friends. Her troupe travels to France, encountering an umami cooking competition; a dead whale; an ultra-nationalist named Breivik; unrequited love; Kakuzo robots; red herrings; uranium; an Andalusian matador. Episodic and mesmerizing scenes flash vividly along, and soon they're all next off to Stockholm.

With its intrepid band of companions, Scattered All Over the Earth (the first novel of a trilogy) may bring to mind Alice's Adventures in Wonderland or a surreal Wind in the Willows, but really is just another sui generis Yoko Tawada masterwork.

Reviews provided by Syndetics

Publishers Weekly Review

Vernacular noir, etymological postapocalypse, a romance in syntax--it's hard to nail down which genre National Book Award winner Tawada's brilliant and beguiling latest belongs to, except to say it's deeply rooted in the power of language. At the center is Huriko, a refugee from a Japan that has vanished both from maps and cultural memory, who works as a children's illustrator in Denmark, where she befriends the diffident Knut, a computer game programmer with a connoisseur's interest in language and who is fascinated by Huriko's homegrown dialect, which she calls "Panska." Soon a group of amateur linguists forms, including Akash, a trans Indian woman, and Nanook, a Greenland Inuit sushi chef masquerading as an authority on Asian cooking. After they visit an umami festival in Trier, they continue to a culinary competition in Oslo, only to be derailed by a racist terror attack and an investigation into the killing of whales for their meat. Eventually, Huriko considers leaving the group for Arles, to meet the precocious son of a robot programmer in love with language and ships of all sizes, who may hold the secrets to Huriko's past and country of origin. At every turn, at least two narratives coexist: the central story line and another hidden just under the surface, emerging through inflections of speech and the vagaries of translation, making the text as thrillingly complex as its characters. This pulls readers deep into the author's polyphonic convergence of cultures. Once again, Tawada doesn't cease to amaze. (Mar.)

Booklist Review

Polyglot Tawada, who writes in both Japanese and German, introduced an ursine character named Knut in Memoirs of a Polar Bear (2016) and opens her newest import with a same-named protagonist. Whether or not the two are related seems unlikely, yet in Tawada's fascinating tale, synchronous serendipities are many. Knut here is a Danish wannabe linguist who poses as a graduate student to meet Hiruko, a refugee center storyteller who's guesting on a radio show and speaking fluently in a "homemade language," a pan-Scandinavian amalgamation-of-sorts. Her country has disappeared, severing her from family, friends, and fellow citizens; an isolation that means she, and the world, will likely lose her specific language and cultural origins (no, sushi really isn't Finnish, but who's to prove otherwise?). The pair bond, embarking on a European journey in search of linguistic connection for Hiruko; meanwhile, their travel network grows quickly, welcoming quirky characters with intersecting longings for kinship. Along the way, Tawada slyly interrogates shifting (disappearing) borders and populations, native (invented) identities, assumptions, and adaptations. Her most frequent translator, Mitsutani, brilliantly ciphers Tawada's magnificently inventive wordplay.

Kirkus Book Review

It could be the end of the world as we know it, but Tawada's vision of the future is intriguing. Hiruko, a refugee from a Japan that no longer exists--Tawada hints at sinister environmental reasons--spends her days in Denmark teaching young immigrant children to speak Panska (from Pan-Scandinavian), a seemingly simplistic language she's invented. When she appears on television, Hiruko draws the attention of linguist Knut, and the two embark on an increasingly madcap quest through northern Europe in search of another speaker of Hiruko's native language. A varied cast of characters--each in search of something--joins the quest along the way, and, as the band of seekers grows, Tawada expands upon the themes of language, immigration, globalization, and authenticity which underpin this slyly humorous first installment of a planned trilogy. As the pilgrims travel around in the shadows of the Roman Empire and its legacy of domination and assimilation, questions of contemporary mutations of culture arise: If pizza is served at an Indian restaurant in Germany, is it Indian food? Similar observations about the effects of global warming on Greenland--where the fish have disappeared but vegetables can now be grown--highlight the evolution of culture and existence. As dire as the quasi-dystopian future could be, with reminders of menacing climate change and Japan's nuclear history, Tawada's intrepid travelers seek community and consensus, and, when confronted with the loss of something "original," they seek out the best copy. Tawada, who won the National Book Award for Translated Literature for The Emissary (2018), also translated by Mitsutani, lives in Berlin and writes in both German and Japanese. Who decides what's authentic? Tawada will tell you that's in flux and always has been. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Author notes provided by Syndetics

Born in Tokyo in 1960,Yoko Tawada writes in both Japanese and German: she has received the Akutagawa, Kleist, Lessing, Noma, Adelbert von Chamisso, and Tanizaki prizes, as well as the Goethe Medal. Her novel The Emissary won the National Book Award. Rivka Galchen in the New York Times Magazine hailed her work as magnificently strange." Margaret Mitsutani is a translator of Yoko Tawada (sharing her National Book Award) and Kenzaburo Oe (Japan's 1994 Nobel Prize laureate)."