cover image Shadow Child

Shadow Child

Rahna Reiko Rizzuto. Grand Central, $26 (352p) ISBN 978-1-5387-1145-3

Rizzuto’s quasi-thriller turned weighty multigenerational saga follows three women facing debilitating illness, alienation, and extreme isolation against the backdrop of war and a devastating environmental catastrophe. As the novel opens in the early 1970s, 24-year-old half-Japanese, half-white Hana returns to her sparse New York City apartment to find her estranged twin sister, Kei, knocked out cold in the bathtub, apparently the victim of a break-in. Kei falls into a coma and is hospitalized, and as Hana tries to figure out what happened, she visits Kei and tells her stories about their childhood in 1950s and ’60s Hawaii, hoping it will help revive her. Of particular import are Hana’s recollections of competing for their mother’s attention, the time Kei nearly got swept away in a tsunami, and—the book’s finale—the terrifying event that drove the sisters apart. While the chapters told from Hana’s and Kei’s perspectives are mostly gripping, the story line that carries the most heft is a third from the perspective of their mother, Japanese-American Lillie, that takes place before the twins are born and explores anti-Japanese prejudice during World War II, the horrors of Japanese internment camps, and the bombing of Hiroshima (themes also explored in Rizzuto’s memoir, Hiroshima in the Morning). Though the book meanders a bit too much, it’s bolstered by its convincing historical detail and its satisfying characters. A well-paced page-turner it’s ultimately not, but Rizzuto’s ruminative portrait of a ravaged family on the precipice of forgiveness leaves a lasting impression. (May)