If you found your mirror shining and quivering like a lake that you can jump into, would you?
Would you jump in, not knowing what adventure awaits you on the other side of the mirror?
When Kokoro Anzai's mirror begins to shine on an unassuming afternoon, she places her palms on the surface and is immediately sucked inside the mirror and into a lonely castle full of secrets and wonder. There she meets the Wolf Queen, a bossy little girl in a wolf mask who appears to have control over the mystical castle. The Wolf Queen leads Kokoro to meet six other flabbergasted young people and explains that the castle (open only for the select seven) grants one wish to whoever finds the secret key before the end of March.
Though they don't realise it yet, all seven of them have something in common. They all have secrets and a gloomy loneliness that cloaks each of them in the world outside the mirror. As they discover the castle's secrets together, they begin to spend more time with each other and with that they face a new challenge- of being vulnerable and lonely together. Kokoro and her new friends slowly let their guards down while learning to be empathetic to others. Their worlds collide beautifully, and the heartfelt story comes to an end with a wholesome twist.
I never thought I would come across a book that could be described as a lovechild of Lewis Carrol's Alice Through The Looking Glass and Murakami's Kafka on the Shore, but here it is, with feverish metaphors and characters that hold a mirror up to their readers. Mizuki Tsujimura perfects the seemingly impossible by casting magical realism like a spell to shine light on a path that moves the conversation on school manufactured trauma forward. All her characters face a similar struggle in school which makes them want to quit going and they use the castle as a place of refuge. What I absolutely loved was that the story didn't end with these children finding a safe haven; they channelled the new found courage to blaze ahead bravely. They confront their own fears and the story ends with a simple, effective message- "its ok, you can grow up to be an adult." I can't think of the number of times I wanted someone to whisper something like this when I was in middle school, crouching in the bathroom stall to hide from the rest of my classmates. I can't think of the number of times I wanted someone to whisper this to me now, as a twenty-one year old navigating a new city by herself.
When I find myself at the brink of a monthly breakdown, I feel like the universe is asking me to give up my inner child to become a fully functional adult. The entire world advocates for the inner child to thrive but it is never really kind or even tolerant towards adults who look at the world in a soft pink, romanticised glow. It's not like I am fully tethered to my inner child, but I cannot imagine living a life where the most joyful voice inside my head is forever silenced. And so I find myself fantasising so very often to flee this bleak world that is hell bent on turning us all into murderers. Finding this book was like listening to someone speak in my mother's language after a long, long time. I nearly yelped in joy when I finished reading. This was exactly what I was looking for.
For me, the castle in the mirror is a metaphor for the unlikely friends we make while we practice living. We hope that they are capable of pulling us out from the sinking city that our minds turn into. We go dancing, because in another language that means "I'm here for you". We wait for them while they tie their shoe laces because in another faith it is a secret prayer- "I hope I am more than just a footnote in your life. I hope I'm the one you would choose to run away with." We hold the world up for our friends, and there's a lingering voice that urges us to hesitantly wonder if they'd do the same. All of us have a fantasy that someday, someone will rescue us, and we lie to ourselves about it a lot but we never grow out of this. Perhaps we don't want to grow out of this. We hope it is our friends who save us in the end. Sometimes it is, and sometimes not.
The castle rescues Kokoro and her new friends, and in a way they actually rescue each other.
The Wolf-Queen tells them that they are bound to lose their memories once their wish is granted. This makes all of them stop looking for the key for a long time, because in their hearts they decide that what they would most wish for is indirectly being granted already- a cure from loneliness. But things change, some of them get desperate and they are faced with a question that knocks their breath out.
Would you be willing to forgo memories of now (a good enough time) for a wish that could potentially fulfil your heart's desire?
Do you know what you desire? Will you recognise it if it stands in front of you?
You need to read this fascinating book and make your own metaphor :)
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