Yuki Tejima: “I miss talking about the books I’m not translating”
On translating Japanese writers like Mizuki Tsujimura, Kumi Kimura and Emi Nagi, and championing women’s writing
Which was the first Japanese book that you translated and how was the experience?
The first Japanese book I translated was Then Why Ask Me to Come? by Risa Wataya, an author I am delighted to reintroduce to English readers in 2025. She is a literary superstar in Japan who was perhaps introduced a bit too early (10 years ago) to catch this current wave of Japanese translated literature by brilliant women. I hope this is the start of many more translated novels to come from Wataya, whose body of work I think readers would love to get to know. In translating her hit title, Then Why Ask Me to Come, I had wonderful bilingual editors who pored over the text (in both languages) with me and provided the most insightful advice. I took what they taught me into my first translated book that was published (timelines work in mystical ways), Lost Souls Meet Under a Full Moon by Mizuki Tsujimura. It’s a novel I’ve loved for years that I still can’t believe I was asked to translate.
A lot of the books you’ve translated deal with the theme of isolation / loneliness.
I love this question because I thought about it quite a bit as I was translating Emi Yagi’s When the Museum Is Closed and Kumi Kimura’s Someone to Watch Over You at around the same time. As I translated, I started to feel as though the protagonists were almost in conversation with each other. They were similar in that they were both a little detached from society, and both had difficulty communicating with others. They couldn’t find their place in the world and lived very much in solitude. Working on the two novels allowed me to think about solitude and different kinds of women in Japanese society, as they are not all one type. They could be friendly, communicative extroverts and still be living with a deep loneliness. To be able to live inside the heads of these two protagonists carrying heavy burdens, imagining them in conversation with each other, was an enlightening experience. It would all percolate in my mind and turn into the bigger theme of ‘Okay, what is loneliness in Japanese society’. What is it about Japanese society that creates this kind of loneliness? Would it be easier if these women were able to communicate better, if they had less social anxiety, or is that not the case at all? Is this just the way that society is built?
Of course, the two authors have completely different styles, separate stories. One is very much set in reality while the other has a magical, fantastical element to it. But for me to be able to work on these two novels together, I think, deepened the translation experience. One deepened the other, and vice versa.
You’ve been a huge advocate of women translating women. What’s your perspective on this and which writers would you like to translate in the future?
I couldn’t be happier for this current wave of Japanese literature in translation, with more Japanese women writers being read in English. I’ve read Japanese novels in their original language all my life, though I grew up in Los Angeles, because I wanted to gain a better understanding of what was going on in my half American, half Japanese head. The novels helped me to understand the Japanese side of my identity. For me, translating women is a no-brainer. I can think of so many women authors whose works I wish were translated, either for the first time, or once more. Risa Wataya, as I mentioned, Kanako Nishi is one of my absolute favourites (and a translation is finally coming!), Akane Chihaya, Rieko Matsuura…
How do you split your time between LA and Tokyo, and how did your bookstagram account come by?
I feel very fortunate in that I can spend extended periods of time in LA, where I have family and can escape to, especially in the summer when it’s unbearably humid in Japan and my brain stops functioning. LA is hot but dry, and my brain comes back to life in that kind of weather. But Tokyo really does inspire me, even though I wasn’t raised there, or maybe because I wasn’t raised there. It still excites me to my core, and I don’t think I will ever grow bored with it.
I wouldn’t have started my bookstagram account — or become a literary translator — if I didn’t move from the US to Tokyo. I’ve always loved Tokyo bookstores but had no idea the extent to which Tokyo was a book lover’s heaven, how truly vibrant its literary scene is. So yes, the account began when I moved to Tokyo and realised, wow, there are so many bookstores to discover and share, so many books to talk about. And I never thought that I would become a translator of the novels. I never imagined that.
What are you working on next?
I’m translating a few contemporary titles by women authors that truly inspire me. They have completely different styles, and it brings me great joy to become the chameleon that I am most comfortable being (I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing) and change tones with each author and story. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to share freely about the projects just yet, but I will soon be yapping about them over at @booknerdtokyo, and I apologise in advance for my non-stop book chatter. One thing I really miss is being able to talk about the books I’m not translating, as they are what fuel my translation process. I’m trying to find that balance now, between being a wildly amateur book nerd who loves what she loves, and a professional literary translator who must continue to work on her craft, to be able to do the books she loves justice.
Arunima Mazumdar is an independent writer. She is @sermoninstone on Twitter and @sermonsinstone on Instagram.
