An extract from Under the Eye of the Big Bird by Hiromi Kawakami, translated by Asa Yoneda
An inventive and immersive speculative novel about a future in which humans are nearing extinction – from the bestselling author of Strange Weather in Tokyo
An inventive and immersive speculative novel about a future in which humans are nearing extinction – from the bestselling author of Strange Weather in Tokyo
In the distant future, humans are on the verge of extinction and have settled in small tribes across the planet under the observation and care of the Mothers. Some children are made in factories, from cells of rabbits and dolphins; some live by getting nutrients from water and light, like plants. The survival of the race depends on the interbreeding of these and other alien beings - but it is far from certain that connection, love, reproduction, and evolution will persist among the inhabitants of this faltering new world.
Unfolding over geological eons, Under the Eye of the Big Bird is at once an astonishing vision of the end of our species as we know it and a meditation on the qualities that, for better and worse, make us human.
Hiromi Kawakami
About the Author
Hiromi Kawakami was born in Tokyo in 1958 and is one of Japan's most popular contemporary novelists
With crystalline clarity, it tells the story of humanity’s evolution on an epic scale
— The 2025 judges on Under the Eye of the Big Bird
What the judges said
Hiromi Kawakami’s Under the Eye of the Big Bird tells the story of humanity’s evolution on an epic scale that spans as far into the future as the human imagination could possibly allow. In each of its chapters, separated by eons but gracefully unified under the crystalline clarity of Asa Yoneda’s seemingly timeless translation, a variegated cast of posthuman characters each interrogate what it means to be not an individual or a nation but an entire species, that unit of being we currently and urgently struggle so much to grasp, much to the cost to the planet we live on and our own survival.
What the critics said
James Bradley, The Guardian
‘Yet as its queasily childlike and affectless voice – marvellously captured by translator Asa Yoneda – suggests, the novel’s real concern is not with the particularities of the worlds it depicts, but with the ways in which human nature and society shift and alter as our bodies and minds change.’
Justine Payton, The Master’s Review
‘Hiromi Kawakami’s Under the Eye of the Big Bird, a novel in stories translated from Japanese by Asa Yoneda, is a masterpiece of speculative fiction. Few books hold attention the way this one does, resonating with both the present moment and fears of a perhaps not-too-distant future. It is an intimate, complex, and raw exploration of what it means to be human, of the strengths and weaknesses of the species, and what that means for our survival and our extinction. Joining the literary genius of authors like Richard Bach, Daniel Quinn, Paulo Coelho and Rebecca Solnit, Kawakami’s writing evokes a rare depth of contemplation and self-reflection.’
Hilary Leichter, The New York Times
‘Translated from the Japanese by Asa Yoneda, Kawakami’s prose is often clinically deadpan, but she also finds humor and warmth in the puzzles of existence and extinction.’
Alison Fincher, Asian Review of Books
‘But Under the Eye of the Big Bird is more than an excellent work of speculative fiction. Like all great literature, it takes up some of life’s biggest questions about what it means to be alive, to love, and to be human. (“You’re a very human human,” a mother tells one character. “You create things, and you destroy more than you create.”) And to this catalogue of great questions, Kawakami adds, “How will the human species face the end?”’
Niall Harrison, Locus Magazine
‘The power and the pain of the novel lies in its ability to bridge between humanity as an abstract and humanity as a characteristic, to pick out moments from a vast sweep of time and show their insignificance and their simultaneous, ultimate importance. The novel ends with a plea from a speaker who doesn’t know if they will ever be heard: I wanted to reach back into the page and say, you are.’
