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<p>I noticed this also - doubly so when I posted.</p>
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I agree that Ethel was two-dimensional, although Henry’s relationship to her illness was well-developed; the cancer was almost another character. My take is that this was intentional. This was the story of Henry and Keiko, and Ethel was in a sense a 30-year intruder on Henry’s enduring love. He was a good husband to Ethel, and I know how much he loved her by how much he misses her. But after she was gone, I could root for Henry in his pursuit of Keiko (through his pursuit of her possessions and history), precisely because I didn’t know Ethel very well. He was free to follow his heart at last.
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<p>^^^
Perfect. The depiction of Henry and Ethel’s marriage made me somewhat sad for her … despite the fact that Henry loved her and remained a loyal husband. Ethel felt about Henry as he did about Keiko. Henry and Ethel’s marriage existed on “the corner of bitter and sweet.”</p>
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Count me in as one of those who felt the book lost something by having Henry and Keiko reunite in the end. I think that was a forced, Cinderella moment, and that it would have been more natural and more emotionally effective for the book to end with Henry having just accepted his life with Ethel. The broken record would have been a perfect metaphor - of having the physical thing unable to be fixed, but rather the memories being what are truly the important thing.
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In fact, if I had my druthers, I would edit that awkward final chapter in the apartment. I would keep everything up to and including Henry’s arrival outside the door and the line “Then he knocked.” (p. 283)</p>
<p>And then I’d cut straight to the final sentences. Keiko would open the door after the knock and, with the two of them on either side of the threshold, we’d read:</p>
<p>“They stood there, smiling at each other, like they had done all those years ago, standing on either side of that fence.
‘Oai deki te…’ She paused.
‘Ureshii desu,’ Henry said, softly." (p. 285)</p><p>The End. That would leave everything about Keiko to the imagination, which is preferable to the stilted description of how she looked and what belongings she had in her apartment. Unfortunately, Ballantine Books forgot to hire me as an editor.
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<p>I wouldn’t have been unhappy with either of the above endings, but I liked Ford’s ending also. It left many possibilities open: Henry and Keiko may or may not move beyond friendship, but definitely need closure. Who knows they may turn into nothing more than the best of friends … finally allowing Henry to reconcile with all that happened?</p>