This book had a peculiar effect on me: I didn't feel particularly invested in it as I read, but I still literally couldn't put it down until I finished the entire thing in one big gulp. The sense of setting is really strong here. I felt fully present in the Japanese forest, watching the seasons change, and I felt immersed in all the cultural traditions of Kamusari. I enjoyed the sense of borderline magical realism here, with all the mentions of gods and spirits, and the nature itself providing an almost mystical presence.

At times, this felt more like non-fiction than a novel, and not because the story was presented as the notes the protagonist took during his time in Kamusari. Mostly because this is so much a story about forestry that it's barely a *story*. I learned a lot about Japanese forests, and how they change with the seasons, and how trees are felled, and how the woods can be protected from forest fires, and how nasty the ticks are. There was a smattering of colorful personalities involved in collections of scenes that felt more like personal anecdotes than anything forming an actual narrative. I felt detached from pretty much every character I met—it was like they were only there to illustrate various facets of the location that was the *real* protagonist. Even the MC/narrator is a blank slate: all we know about him is that he's freshly out of school, drifting, uncertain about his future, and is embarrassed of secretly writing poetry, which his mother uses to blackmail him into going taking a forestry job in the middle of nowhere for a year (weird, but okay).

I went in expecting a slice-of-life coming-of-age story; I got a nature documentary in book format. Surprised, but I'm not complaining!