Her father was an anthropologist who studied the Oneida people and had special objects that had been given to him. Her Japanese mother had kept polished stones her father had collected while interned in a “relocation” camp during WW II. She found rubber bands, tub foil, plastic wrap. They were both born in 1914, during the Depression, and never threw things out. She spoke about clearing her parents’ house after they died. “As a novelist,” she said, “I experience voices coming to me – the voice of a character or of the book itself.” She became curious about what it means to hear voices. After her father died she heard his voice for over a year. In a recent dharma talk, Ruth Ozeki said she drew from her own experience with death in crafting this novel. Annabelle’s response to the loss of her husband Kenji is different – she is unable to throw away anything that was his. Benny begins to hear the voice of his father at the crematorium, and then hears other voices coming from made objects–such as chopsticks or flannel shirts–as well as pebbles and trees. Both struggle in the aftermath of Kenji’s death, alone and together. The book begins with the sudden death of Benny Oh’s father, Kenji Oh, a tremendous loss for the thirteen-year-old boy and his mother, Annabelle. Readers are drawn into a world permeated with Zen teachings, although someone with no knowledge of Zen Buddhism could identify with the characters and their experiences. Benny Oh, a young boy, says, “Shhh … Listen! … Things speak all the time, but if your ears aren’t attuned, you have to learn to listen.” The Book of Form and Emptiness, Ruth Ozeki’s most recent novel, is about listening, not only to the characters in the book, but also to the voices of objects, including the book itself. She teaches creative writing at Smith College. She was ordained by Zoketsu Norman Fischer, founder and guiding teacher of the Everyday Zen Foundation, who gave her the Dharma name Kanshin Do-On / Generous Heart, Voice of the Way. Ruth Ozeki is a novelist, filmmaker, and Zen Priest.

The book of form and emptiness review