Now that we are leaving fall behind and going into winter, things are getting colder, darker, and more existential. With every drop in temperature, there is an increased inability to find much comfort, and, of course, the seasonal depression is not helping!
Fortunately, there is a solution, and it lies in cozy fiction. If you want a healing fiction style offering a nostalgic atmosphere and themes of yearning, regret, and connection, then look no further than this guide of my favourite, brilliant Japanese fiction books.
Before the Coffee Gets Cold
If you’re the least bit empathetic, get ready to cry. Written by the amazing Toshikazu Kawaguchi in 2015, Before the Coffee Gets Cold is set in a charming, small alleyway cafe in Tokyo. In the novel, the reader is introduced to four visitors to the coffee shop. The cafe is rumoured to possess the ability to travel in time. The customers all have different goals: to confront the man who left her, to receive a letter from a late husband suffering from Alzheimer’s, to see a sister for the final time, and to meet a daughter she never got the opportunity to know.
This book is short and incredibly simple to read, making it easily a binge read (for those so inclined). The first three stories are touching, but the final story is absolutely gut-wrenching. The best thing about this book is that the four characters’ stories are all different yet unified. This book delves into comfort through relation; everyone deals with problems, no matter how your personal perception of others may make you feel.
Beyond that, despite having this ability to go back and reapproach these situations, the reader knows that in the end, nothing is going to change. Even in this heartbreak, you’ll be met with a sense of comfort through the gentle writing style. If that’s not enough, the cherry on top is that if you love the book, you can follow it up by reading the whole series! Yes, that’s right, you get to experience that feeling four more times. Or infinitely if you love a good reread!
Tokyo Ueno Station
I’ll admit, the reason I first picked up the book was for its cover. Unfortunately, I tend to be a victim of a good cover despite the expression. Fortunately, the contents of the book did not let me down, and the heart-wrenching story lives up to the pretty design on the front. Tokyo Ueno Station was written by Miri Yu, and its English translation was published in 2019, winning the National Book Award for Translated Literature in 2020.
It follows a man who spent most of his life working hard, and ends his life tenting in Ueno Imperial Gift Park. The narrator of the story, Kazu, is a homeless man in Tokyo who attempts to understand his past; yet in each line, his past becomes more out of reach. The reader can at first be enticed by the question of why Kazu ended up homeless and is sustained through the search for an understanding of his ghost’s tragic backstory.
The difficulties of personal pain and poverty intersect through Kazu’s suffering in the novel’s guttural exploration of the tolls of loss on the human psyche. What’s more, the novel only subtly points out that Kazu is a ghost. Reading it feels almost dreamlike, and although there is a certain mundaneness to Kazu’s life, his pain is complex and significant. This truly taps into the normalization of inequality and why bad things happen to good people. It also asks the important question: Why do so many people who look at you never truly see you?
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop
Any book nerd is healed and reaches a flow state by entering a cozy bookstore. Why not read about it to carry on this feeling in the comfort of your own home if you happen to be a homebody! Author Satoshi Yagisawa perfectly encompasses the booklovers’ paradise.
This story follows the protagonist, Takako. Like many of us romantics, her life derails and falls apart after a breakup. With nothing left to lose, she spontaneously moves to a cramped apartment above her eccentric uncle’s bookshop in Jimbocho. Takako is depressed, floating through that numb post-breakup feeling. Accompanied by Uncle Satoru and his many dusty hoarded books, she begins to piece herself back together again.
This definitely follows the no plot, just vibes style. There’s nothing dramatic, only the quiet assertion that small moments and connections can arrive in the most unexpected places and times. It’s short, gentle, and bittersweet, and if (when) you fall in love with this story, you can follow it up with its sequel.
Convenience Store Woman
This story hooks you with the odd life of protagonist Keiko. She has never fit in with others, even as a child. At 18, Keiko began working at Smile Mart—now 36 years old, she still works at the convenience store as a clerk. She struggles to move beyond life in the convenience store, almost implying that she is an entity not separate from the store. Keiko places emphasis on the fact that she merely mirrors the personalities of those around her, and she has never been interested in changing her lifestyle. However, her friends and family beg to differ. They want Keiko to find a husband, have kids, or get a “real job”.
I wondered which side I was on. I felt sympathetic to Keiko’s path and recognized her emotional differences, though unlike my own. At the same time, I felt it was hard not to feel similar to her friends in the story. The writer of this story, Sayaka Murata, aims to do exactly this. This work criticizes productivity anxiety, looking at the pressures of conformity, even if it’s not what makes you truly fulfilled. The novel questions the bounds of normality, touching on ableism and misogyny.
As someone addicted to YouTube videos about Japanese 7/11s, the concept of this novel is what really drew me in. If you’ve worked in any sort of customer service, especially retail, you may even relate to the many scenes and interactions in this novel. Have you ever thought that a person or customer thinks less of you just because you are working in retail? As an ex-Starbucks employee, that rang true for me. It really underlines the condescension essential workers can face in their jobs. If you enjoyed Almond by Sohn Won-Pyung, you should definitely give this short novel a try.
The Memory Police
Ok, The Memory Police is dystopian, unlike the other books in this list, but I include it because it still has many soft, melancholic moments throughout its tragic storyline—similar to the other novels. Written in 1994 by Yoko Ogawa, many readers have said it has elements of the Orwellian style. The novel feels similar to a fever dream, as the reader is introduced to an unnamed island on which objects seem to fuzzily disappear, both physically and in the memory of the inhabitants. The majority of the people on the island do not recognize the loss of these objects, and the few who do constantly live in fear that they will be captured by The Memory Police.
Like Orwell, the story deals with the crushing dehumanization that totalitarianism brings about. The writing induces a quiet sense of fear in the reader, which mimics that of the protagonist. Beyond that, Ogawa touches upon the trauma of loss and death; without memory, the soul never truly has room to recover.
I mean, it feels like you can’t go wrong; if you love translated fiction written by women and want to know what it feels like to live in an alternate world, you should definitely give this a shot!
Overall, I couldn’t get enough of these Japanese novels and how they made me feel; they are perfect for a winter day stuck inside with a warm drink. I highly recommend adding these to your reading list or your Christmas wishlist if you enjoy a cozy read!