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.
Before I got started, I already loved the phone booth at the edge of the world. But then I loved everything else. Especially the beautiful prose, powerful but held back, like grief. And the characters—emerging blinking from their tragedies, hurt, and hesitant—but ultimately hopeful. It was a joy to read. Mesmerizing.
author of The Other Half of Augusta Hope - Joanna Glen
"an astonishment...a quiet, contemplative, and gripping tale [that] provides a message of hope and endurance”
Christian Science Monitor
This beautiful novel tells a story of universal loss and the power of love. It will remain engraved in my heart and mind forever. During these difficult times we face, it addresses questions that we might all have—how to connect with those we have loved and lost and how to allow ourselves to live and to love again. Beautifully written, sensitive and evocative, it paints a picture of an inner and outer world that is infused with both tragedy and hope. It moved me to tears and made me want to speak my own secret thoughts in the phone box at the edge of the world. Absolutely breathtaking and stunning.
bestselling author of The Beekeeper of Aleppo - Christy Lefteri
This is a beautiful book. And a timely one. It tells a story about the aftermath of a disaster, long after the disaster. It tells of memories of the first few weeks after horror struck, but more it tells about the years after. If we're not directly affected, we lose sight of the years after that others have to endure. Or survive.
This book is one to read now.
Carefully told and with great care, this feels a particularly resonating story right now.
a tender tribute to grief and what it teaches us. Healing is not linear, and the ones we lose never truly leave us...The phone booth is a magical place that not only connects the living to the dead but also the living to the living."
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.
A message of hope for anyone lost, frightened, or grieving. Beautiful.
New York Times bestselling author of I Let You Go and After the End - Clare Mackintosh
There is a stillness and quietness to the book that makes each movement all the more meaningful. The words carry a weight that makes each sentence feel intentional; there’s no fat to trim. Moving and heart-breaking, Yui’s story—and that of the Wind Phone—is equally uplifting and heart-warming.”
The Phone Booth at the Edge of the World has such a subtle strength to it. The power to transfer such huge emotion from the page to my heart. It felt like a balm to my soul. . . . For me it is easily one of my books of the year.
Waterstones (UK) bookseller
A message of hope for anyone lost, frightened, or grieving. Beautiful.
New York Times bestselling author of I Let You Go and After the End - Clare Macintosh
"an astonishment...a quiet, contemplative, and gripping tale [that] provides a message of hope and endurance”—Christian Science Monitor “a tender tribute to grief and what it teaches us. Healing is not linear, and the ones we lose never truly leave us...The phone booth is a magical place that not only connects the living to the dead but also the living to the living."—BookPage “a must-read…a beautifully written book…Messina writes in a way that’s evocative of Kazuo Ishiguro but in an opposite way: While Ishiguro leads with comfort and hints at the sadness to come, Messina offers grief and sadness first but offers the reader a trail of breadcrumbs toward future happiness.”—Kirkus “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 “There is a stillness and quietness to the book that makes each movement all the more meaningful. The words carry a weight that makes each sentence feel intentional; there’s no fat to trim. Moving and heart-breaking, Yui’s story—and that of the Wind Phone—is equally uplifting and heart-warming.”—Asian Review of Books “This book is one to read now.”—Cosmopolitan (UK) “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) “Carefully told and with great care, this feels a particularly resonating story right now.”—Stylist “Spare and poetic, this beautiful book is both a small, quiet love story and a vast, expansive meditation on grieving and loss.”—Heat “This is a beautiful book. And a timely one. It tells a story about the aftermath of a disaster, long after the disaster. It tells of memories of the first few weeks after horror struck, but more it tells about the years after. If we're not directly affected, we lose sight of the years after that others have to endure. Or survive.”—Bookbag (UK) “This beautiful novel tells a story of universal loss and the power of love. It will remain engraved in my heart and mind forever. During these difficult times we face, it addresses questions that we might all have—how to connect with those we have loved and lost and how to allow ourselves to live and to love again. Beautifully written, sensitive and evocative, it paints a picture of an inner and outer world that is infused with both tragedy and hope. It moved me to tears and made me want to speak my own secret thoughts in the phone box at the edge of the world. Absolutely breathtaking and stunning.”—Christy Lefteri , bestselling author of The Beekeeper of Aleppo “Before I got started, I already loved the phone booth at the edge of the world. But then I loved everything else. Especially the beautiful prose, powerful but held back, like grief. And the characters—emerging blinking from their tragedies, hurt, and hesitant—but ultimately hopeful. It was a joy to read. Mesmerizing.”—Joanna Glen , author of The Other Half of Augusta Hope “A message of hope for anyone lost, frightened, or grieving. Beautiful.”—Clare Mackintosh , New York Times bestselling author of I Let You Go and After the End “The Phone Booth at the Edge of the World has such a subtle strength to it. The power to transfer such huge emotion from the page to my heart. It felt like a balm to my soul. . . . For me it is easily one of my books of the year.”—Waterstones (UK) bookseller
★ 2020-12-15 Two bereft people find themselves seeking a garden at the top of a hill in Ōtsuchi, Japan, where a disconnected phone allows the grief-stricken to send their voices into the wind as they talk to those they have lost.
In March 2011, an earthquake off the coast of Japan caused an enormous tsunami that reached miles inland, killing an estimated 15,897 people. The resulting devastation of people, places, and families redefined a generation in northeast Japan, including—in this book—a woman named Yui, who lost both her mother and her 3-year-old daughter to the water even though they had followed emergency protocol and headed to a local shelter. Yui, now a radio station host in Tokyo, is hamstrung by her grief. But then she hears about a phone box where the grieving can send their voices on the wind to their lost loved ones, and she makes her pilgrimage. Upon her arrival at the town, she spots a man with a youthful face and gray hair who, it seems to her, has “a corner of darkness”in his features, as does she. He is seeking the phone box to speak with his lost wife, the mother of his young daughter. This wonderful, gentle, hopeful story leads the reader through the beginning of Yui and Takeshi’s 30 years together. Through their sorrow and grief, they learn how to let happiness, hope, joy, and laughter reside side by side with their memories of loss. It is a beautifully written book. Messina—an Italian who has lived in Tokyo for 15 years—writes in a way that’s evocative of Kazuo Ishiguro but in an opposite way: While Ishiguro leads with comfort and hints at the sadness to come, Messina offers grief and sadness first but offers the reader a trail of breadcrumbs toward future happiness.
A must-read.