Under the Broken Sky

“Nobody chooses to be a refugee.”
That is the last line of the afterword of Mariko Nagai’s verse novel, Under the Broken Sky. In a few quick paragraphs, Nagai reminds us that although her story is set in the 1940s, the story of war and the destruction it brings are forever around us. Vietnamese refugees, Syrians, Rohingyas, Rwandans … these are just some of the displaced groups she mentions at the end of her heart-wrenching tale.

Natsu lives with her father, whom she calls Tochan, and her sister Asa in Manchuria. When her father is conscripted by the Japanese army, Auntie next door comes and takes control of her life.
At first, I thought that this would be a predictable story about a wicked woman pushing children to work for her, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. As circumstances move from bad to worse, Auntie does everything for the two children, determined to keep them alive.

Unsurprisingly for such grim times, more than once, I felt that Under the Broken Sky seemed unrelentingly sad, with Natsu and the others struggling to stay alive even as their hearts and bodies seem to shrink. And yet, it kept me reading. The cover, in some ways, says it all, with little Asa hiding in Natsu’s arms, as Natsu herself looks at us both brave and frightened.

A moving work of historical fiction, Under the Broken Sky reminds us of the lies institutions spread in the name of patriotism, the hardships and cruelty of a world torn by war, and the power of love to carry us through.