Scottish book of the week

The Only Gaijin in the Village

By Iain Maloney, Polygon, £12.99

From the start, with the echo of Little Britain in its title, Iain Maloney’s The Only Gaijin in the Village is sure to be a charmer. A Scots lad from Aberdeen, the author settles in Japan with his Japanese wife, Minori, and in 2016 they move to the countryside and immerse themselves in the local community.

As a tall, blond foreigner (gaijin) with a fiery beard, Ian stands out among his short, dark-haired neighbours. Given that he speaks good Japanese and is a communicator by trade, he assimilates well but approaches village life in his own way.

The book follows a year in the Maloneys’ new life, from summer through to spring.

Each page is crammed with information about their new location, the neighbours who are both helpful and friendly but insatiably curious, and local customs. Amateur farming, basic gardening and DIY.

Summer comes with unexpected perils, like eating raw shiitake mushrooms or when Iain kills the dangerous mamushi, a pit viper that likes to rest under a boulder in the garden.

In autumn the garden is developed and Iain remembers his inevitable faux pas when using his new language skills with his in-laws to be. Thinking he is speaking about konnyaku , a “jellylike... thing that resembles the kind of congealed gloop you find behind an old fridge” (in fact a hot-pot ingredient), he replies to an enquiry about what he thinks of kon-yaku, that he doesn’t like it… telling Minori’s father he doesn’t want to marry her!

Throughout the book, the author reminisces about amusing and at times alarming incidents in his life as a newcomer in Japan, as well as warmly remembering his own family in Aberdeen.

Spring sees Iain and Minori surviving the eruption of Ontake, one of 111 active volcanoes in Japan. But despite such occasional perils, the Japanese countryside is largely safe, and its inhabitants, human and otherwise, fascinating.

This book is a wealth of information and the reader learns a huge amount about rural Japan. It is charming, as is its narrator, and always amusing.

The crisp and evocative prose is liberally splashed with Iain’s dry blend of humour:

“On the way out of the hotel we take the lift with some Japanese guys. Scotland? Hai (Yes). You don’t wear skirt? No. Nande (Why?)? I forgot to shave my legs.’”

Review by John Badenhorst. 9/10