Responding to Fiction in the New Yorker

I read a story titled The House Behind The Weeping Cherry.

I really liked, it, because it tells the story with a sort of "naked" perspective, like the human judgements the narrator makes are all the kind of judgement that we make. He feels helplessness, and disgust, and love, and passes judgement just like us, just like the side of our mind that we don't share. He also finds himself in a hard futile situation, with his ethics changing in front him, and oddly you feel for him, and kind of have the same thoughts he has, you go through the same steps. Like the first time he says prostitutes, you sort of recoil, but then, like Wanren you come to feel fondness for them.