Review: Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa

Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is a sweet story of a young woman, Takako, who finds herself heartbroken and living with her eccentric uncle above his bookshop in Jimbocho, Tokyo's famous book district. Over time Takako heals her heart and her enthusiasm for life with books, coffee, and walks in the city. She finds new and rekindled connections that buoy her during a confusing period, and creates a community through the power of books and stories.

If you are looking for an accessible read, this translation by Eric Ozawa is complete with the often surprising abruptness that comes from Japanese authors. However I found it to be executed in a way that conveys Yagisawa's dry irony and humour. He gently pokes fun at our twenty-five year old Takako, who has the same bleak, dramatic outlook on life as a teenage girl. I was made to feel the way I feel about most teenagers: pitiful, yet helplessly endeared by her innocence.

'Meeting Hideaki meant so much to me at the time. For someone as passive as I was then, finding a boyfriend like him was nothing short of a miracle. I liked him so much that I could barely stand. The downside was I never saw this shock coming, and I had no idea how to cope with it.'

Takako's naivety to her first major experience of love is so sweet and vulnerable that one can't help but feel attached to her. We have all been there. Her prolonged period of mourning whilst her enthusiastic uncle tries to breathe life back into her is at times painful as a reader, but probably because it reflects a recognisable state of frustration at oneself when stuck in a depression that the world refuses to acknowledge any longer.

Gradually, Takako's heart catches up with the sweetness of her environment and the rhythms of the bookshop, and we watch her accept that there is more to life than romantic partnership. Yagisawa effortlessly invokes the romance of literature and bookshops, of intimate, steamy cafes on cold wintery nights, and of blossoming friendship.

There is a thread to the story that I did not at first understand the necessity of. Uncle Satoru's ex-wife, who had left him unexpectedly years before, returns to him without explanation. Aunt Momoko tries to establish a relationship with Takako, who spends a lot of time with her regardless of not particularly liking her. Momoko ends up revealing her reasons for leaving Takako's uncle along with other personal struggles, and the two form an intimate feminine bond.

Their relationship connects Takako to the unravelling of her uncle's own love life, and subverts their supportive roles. It also runs the bittersweet theme of time standing still as lost lovers are awaited. The small cosmic orbit of the book district that Takako is cocooned in might represent the homeostasis that occurs when we are stuck in the past, waiting for love to return before life can move forward. For uncle Satoru, it does return, but it is no longer the sweetness that he had grieved for. Instead it is an awkward, non-communicative and obtrusive presence with unresolved issues and mystery that hangs heavily over all involved. The reality of old love returning is possibly more revealing for Takako than anyone. She has let go of Hideaki, and waits patiently in the present moment as a new interest leaves his own heartbreak behind for a new start to emerge.

I recommend this slim novel to anyone who wants an indulgent slice of heart-warming literary pie, with a world you can cosy up next to and gently plod along with the characters on their individual journeys of heartbreak and healing.

P.S. The book has been made into a hit Japanese movie, so if you can find a good version with subtitles you can further enjoy the world of the Jimbochu district.

Cosy Factor: 5/5

Accessibility: 5/5

Plot: 3/5