L’amore è come la terapia, funziona solo quando ci credi». «Ma soprattutto» gli faceva eco lei «solo quando ti senti pronto a lavorarci.» But Abbie was too troubled to see clearly. Too damaged to see the dangers Tony Sharpe brought into her life. Messina is Italian, but has lived in Japan for 15 years with her Japanese husband and kids. I believe she is fluent in Japanese but the book is written in and translated from Italian (by Lucy Rand). The prose is simple and unfussy. At first I thought there might be a risk of the sweetness of the novel verging on saccharine, but Messina kept it nicely balanced. It is not a tourist attraction. It is an opportunity for visitors to convey their thoughts to their lost loved ones as they work through the grieving process.

When Yui loses her mother and daughter in the tsunami, she wonders how she will ever carry on. Yet, in the face of this unthinkable loss, life must somehow continue. The Phone Box at the Edge of the World is an unforgettable story of the depths of grief, the lightness of love and the human longing to keep the people who are no longer with us close to our hearts. A radio host, Yui first heard about the wind phone when she was moderating a discussion on grief. A caller, who had also lost a loved one in the 2011 tsunami, described the phone box with a phone doesn’t work; there’s no connection but the caller says that “your voice is carried away with the wind” and when he speaks to his wife he feels Thoughtful and tender, full of small daily moments and acts of kindness, Messina’s novel is a testament to the power of community (and a bit of whimsy) in moving forward after loss.” ― Shelf Awareness For me, the Wind Phone is mainly this: a metaphor that suggests how precious it is to hold on tight to joy as well as pain. That even when we are confronted by the subtractions, the things that life takes from us, we have to open ourselves up to the many additions it can offer too."Die Telefonzelle am Ende der Welt“, geschrieben von Laura Imai Messina ist eine Geschichte, die mich vollends berührt hat. Die Autorin greift hier eine wirklich tiefe Thematik, die der Trauer, des Neuanfangs, des Loslassens und einfach des Lebens, mit all seinem Licht und Schatten auf und verknüpft das ganze eben mit wahren Ereignissen und eben der Telefonzelle, am Ende der Welt... die es wirklich gibt und ein ganz besonderer Ort für viele Menschen ist, die ihren Toten geliebten Menschen gedenken, die noch nicht loslassen können und diese Telefonzelle als wichtigen Ort nutzen, um Abschied zu nehmen. Aber eben auch um neue Kraft zu schöpfen. Und so tauchte ich in diese Geschichte ein, tief bewegt, tief berührt und mit unzähligen Tränen in den Augen und doch dem Gefühl der Zuversicht, der Geborgenheit und der Hoffnung und Liebe im Herzen. Ich konnte das Buch nicht schnell lesen, musste Pausen einlegen, geschriebenes verarbeiten und nachdenken. Ein zeitloses Buch, welches sich immer und immer wieder lesen lässt. Hab es wahnsinnig gern gelesen. Yui’s philosophical musings are unconvincing, inauthentic and clumsy. The obvious is all too often explained. Syntactical quirks mar otherwise elegant, modulated prose. For me, the emotional denouement comes too soon, with the novel carrying on beyond its sedulously finessed crescendo, thereby leeching away its inherent force. Yui’s internal crisis appears to be shoehorned into the plot, artistically debilitated by the very brevity which lends so much to the novel’s cultural and visceral force. The ‘Japanese Glossary’ is welcome but the ‘Reader’s Questions’ feels like an uninvited guest at an otherwise dignified wake. Did the editor invite them, as I’m sure the author did not! Inconsequential points, but Messina, by her own admission, knows the value of small details. To end on a positive note, there were a few things I did appreciate about The Phone Box At The Edge Of The World. I felt I had a deeper understanding of how the tsunami effected the people of Japan in the short or long term on a practical and emotional level. I also enjoyed immersing myself in the Japanese culture as Messina imparted the knowledge she has gained from living in Japan with her husband in an easy manner. This book is written by an Italian writer living in Japan named Laura Imai Messina.It is based on a place named Bell Gardia where you can talk with dead people using “Wind Phone”.The fact that the “Wind Phone” exists in real life gives me immense pleasure. How would you react if you found out that you can communicate with your dead loved ones?

The Phone Box At The Edge Of The World has a beautiful premise, but for me the prose fell a little short. I guess I was expecting something like a blend of Sayaka Murata and Elena Ferrante, but the tone is closer to Cecilia Ahern or Marian Keyes. It’s a fine story of losing and finding family, but unfortunately it doesn’t quite live up to the heart-wrenching stories of the real-life Wind Phone. Between chapters that follow Yui’s story and the experiences of other grieving people who visit the phone booth, author Laura Imai Messina intersperses bite-size sections that are almost like poems. They have titles such as “Parts of Yui’s Body She Entrusted to Others Over the Years” and “Two Things Yui Discovered After Googling ‘Hug’ the Next Day.” These snippets are lovely breathers, a chance for the reader to marvel at the tiny details that make up a life. The radio playlist corresponded beautifully with the topic of loss and Yui’s life. What song would sum up your life? Based on a true story the phone box at the edge of the world is in the small town of Otsuchi in northern Japan, an area devasted by the tsunami in 2011.Zu tiefst berührend, wunderschön in der Sprache.....ohne die übliche Küchenpsychologie....einfach ergreifend! When Yui loses her mother and daughter in the tsunami, she is plunged into despair and wonders how she will ever carry on. One day she hears of the phone box and decides to make her own pilgrimage there, to speak once more to the people she loved the most. But when you have lost everything, the right words can be the hardest thing to find....

A story about the dogged survival of hope when all else is lost . . . Messina shows us that even in the face of a terrible tragedy, such as an earthquake or a loss of a child, the small things – a cup of tea, a proffered hand – can offer a way ahead. Its meditative minimalism makes it a striking haiku of the human heart.” ― The Times (London) marzo 2011: al largo della costa della regione di Tōhoku, nel Giappone settentrionale, ci fu Il sisma, con epicentro in mare e con successivo tsunami, più potente mai misurato in Giappone e il quarto a livello mondiale. Through palpable tension balanced with glimmers of hope, Hoover beautifully captures the heartbreak and joy of starting over. Yui in uno dei suoi tanti viaggi verso il telefono del vento incontra Taseki, che aveva perso la moglie. E così, “il momento in cui si incontravano iniziò ad apparire a entrambi non come il raccogliersi di due sconosciuti in un punto del mondo per poi raggiungerne un altro, bensì come un ritorno. Era lui che tornava a lei. Era lei che tornava a lui.”

What are some of the different ways the book portrays the relationship between parent and child? What does that relationship mean to Yui throughout the novel? While this is a story about grief, it isn’t a depressing read. Yui’s sorrow, along with the sorrow of all the visitors to the phone, is palpable yet also intertwined with hope and forgiveness. Yui has faced unimaginable tragedy and yet her compassion and resilience remain.