I’ve seen so many new stories about abandoning a high-powered job for a role which is far simpler but also far more satisfying. Cosy fantasy novels about owning a tea store and farming sims about escaping to the countryside abound, and I’m a little sick of it.
In this world of stories about the beauty of the simple life, Ramen, Existential Crises by Roie Oknin is a breath of fresh air. Its appreciation of the little wonders of the world is contrasted by a deep-seated uncertainty and a longing for a return to the life you were promised, resulting in a story emblematic of modern struggles.
Our protagonist, Koji, once studied for a career in politics. He almost made it, too, until a single failed assignment catapulted him into a crisis of uncertainty. Feeling as though he can neither move forward nor go back, Koji goes sideways instead. He takes up a job at a ramen store. He stays there for seven years. As he takes on this simpler job his life becomes simpler too, until it is small enough to fit inside the four walls of the store and is completely severed at its front door. Both comforted and constrained by the routine which now defines his life, Koji must either make a new choice or resign himself to this life forever.
Koji’s struggles are, of course, relatable to many young people. To those who, like him, found themselves working for a long time at a job which was meant to be temporary, due to failure or just a harsh job market. But, it is also relatable to those who did ‘make it’, yet still find themselves unsatisfied and wondering if it really will be all worth it in the end.
Ramen, Existential Crises is a story which reflects the feelings of anyone who feels that they are behind on where their life is ‘supposed’ to be, who is in a place where they are unhappy and are uncertain as to how they’re supposed to move forward. It’s raw, but in an understated way, where powerful emotions simmer under the surface, rarely said in full. The characters are complicated and conflicted, the setting simple yet easy to imagine.
Despite this emotive core, however, the novel itself is slow moving. Progress is, after all, rarely a run but a climb. And yet, the slow, seemingly ordinary moments which make up the novel rarely feel boring. The existential fear and uncertainty which underpins it only works as well as it does because of the skill with which Oknin writes. It’s understated, without a word out of place. A dry sense of humour and evocative descriptions occasionally emerge from its depths to surprise and delight the reader.
It also, crucially, feels as if it has been born of personal experience or at least in-depth knowledge and observation. There are so many moments which are not just relatable but also real and true, vivid in their depiction – an unexplainable uncertainty over sending an email, a woman’s frustration of her finely honed skills being dismissed as a ‘gift’, the embarrassment that comes with being unable to do something which should be easy.
It all comes together to create a story which strikes at the heart of an existential uncertainty so many of us feel, yet struggle to put into words. And reminds us, surprisingly gently, that even if you feel like you are behind it is never too late to take another step forward.
Ramen, Existential Crises is one of the best books I’ve read this year. Maybe it is rather on the nose to compare the experience of reading it to a bowl of ramen (especially given the characters’ annoyance after the publication of a restaurant review), but it’s not inaccurate. Like a good bowl, it is carefully and precisely assembled, with a complex and rich flavour, and the result is far more heartwarming than its appearance suggests. And, like that rare perfect bowl, it is hard to forget – leaving you wanting more. Unsure whether you’ll ever find something quite the same ever again.
FOUR AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Ramen, Existential Crises by Roie Oknin is out now. Grab a copy HERE.
