We had a wonderful gathering at our online JanuaryInJapan Book Club this January. Our topic was the fascinating short novel by Satoshi Yagisawa called Days at the Morisaki Bookshop.
We were so grateful to be joined again this year by our wonderful academic friend, Akira san (Research Fellow of JSPS - Japan Society for the Promotion of Science - Keio University).
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop was the perfect choice for us this year: it is a book about the community that can grow through sharing a deep love of books. As readers of the novel, we engage with that same love of reading. And as old bookclub friends and new bookclub friends gathered with us online from all over the world, we had a vivid representation of how connections are made through the shared experience of reading a beloved book together.
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is very much centred on one location: Jimbocho. This book district of Tokyo has a long history with authors and publishing. Its streets are as densely packed with bookshops as its stores are packed with books. They are piled from floor to ceiling. Some are family bookstores, with lunchtime cooking happening behind the counter.
Many of the stores offer niche interests. In Days at the Morisaki Bookshop, owner Satoru's store is devoted to classic literature by renowned Japanese authors. It is these towering works of art that create the towers of books around our protagonist Takako's bed, when she first comes to stay on the second floor of this family-owned bookstore.
This was our first time hosting our JanuaryInJapan Book Club from Japan. Although it was night-time in Tokyo, just beyond us as we sat at the laptop engaging with our bookclub friends, snowy Mount Fuji crouched on the horizon.
Introducing Jimbocho
We spent a day exploring the Jimbocho area, and we discovered all kinds of bookshops and associated vintage finds: from a cinema showing classic movies; shops selling classic movie posters and postcards, to beguiling illustrations from The Tale of Genji.
In Days at the Morisaki Bookshop, when Takako arrives in Jimbocho, she says:
I saw a main avenue, (which my uncle had told me was Yasukuni Street), and all along it on both sides were rows of bookshops. Everywhere you turned, there was another bookshop.
Now, normally one would be enough for a street. Here, however, the majority of the stores were bookshops. While your eye might have been drawn at first to the bigger ones like Sanseidou and Shosen, what really stood out were the small used bookshops. Seeing them all in a row together had its own subtle impact. On the other side of the street, towards Suidoubashi, there were a few large office buildings, but they only ended up making the place seem even more bizarre.
Still confused, I crossed an intersection that was crowded with salary men on their lunch break and walked down the street of bookshops. Following my uncle's directions, I left the main road and turned into a little backstreet called Sakura. This brought me to an area of secondhand bookshops.
I murmured to myself, 'This is a wonderland of secondhand books.'
And it totally is.
I made a little bit of film to try and give a flavour of this interesting district in the heart of Tokyo, that is completely dedicated to books and reading.
In the video you can see Yasukuni Street - the main street that runs through the area. You can see many different types of bookstores in the area, and the outside and the inside of the cafe which was the inspiration for Saveur.
Below is a photo of Sakura dori, with its distinctive cherry-blossom pink street lamps. When you walk down there, you begin to enter the bookstore area.
There was a lovely modern bookstore there, where I bought a book about wagashi. It was artfully wrapped in paper to protect it.
And, just as the passage from the book describes, there are bookshops everywhere, there are even book stands on the streets.
This is typical of a bookstore. There are many older-style bookstores in Jimbocho, but modern stores are mixed in too.
Each store seems to cater for a different genre.
They're divided by their various specialities: some sell only novels, some only foreign literature, or historical novels. There were even shops that dealt only in film magazines, or children's books, or Edo-era texts bound in the traditional style.
One of my favourite stores was a shop specialising in books about Noh. The books were piled from floor to ceiling. I had the feeling that these books would be fascinating to look through! There were caskets of ever-so-slightly-disconcerting Noh masks, too - the masks are so vividly drawn like life. I couldn't be certain that they wouldn't suddenly begin to move or speak!
Nearby, was a wonderful modern bookshop dedicated to children's books, where there was a place for mums to meet up at the cafe in the centre. The cafe presented an opportunity for community: for mums to come together with their children over coffee and beautifully illustrated books. The illustrations and the design of the children's books was very engaging.
Saveur
Akira-san had mentioned to us that the cafe Sabouru (Saveur) actually exists. We found it, down a small lane behind the main area of bookstores. There was a big queue of people waiting to get inside - I think it had a lot to do with the retro menu of pasta and ice-cream sodas! There was no reference to the book there.
The place he wanted to take me to was just a stone's throw from the Morisaki Bookshop.
"We're here!" he said, coming to a halt in front of a storefront on a little backstreet. It was an old wooden coffee shop that I didn't think I'd ever noticed before. An extremely elegant, middle-aged man with a mustache seemed to be the man in charge.
The name of the coffee shop, Saveur, lit up by the sign, seemed to float above the dark haze.
"This is my spot," he said.
Sabouru has the same orange light outside which is mentioned in the story. It has a very individual appearance. I think Yagisawa used artistic licence in his representation of the cafe in the book: it's part actual cafe and part retro kissaten, with the lamps and shadows.
The name Sabouru sounds like saviour in English. This unprepossessing little place tucked away within a nest of small streets offers warmth and companionship, just like the Morisaki Bookshop itself. There is a theme of being saved running through this small novel: customer Sabu describes Takako's uncle as the saviour of the bookstore. Satoru himself believes he was saved and given purpose in his life by Takako when she was small. He in turn rescues Takako when her life falls apart by giving her a place to stay, rent-free, and indirectly helping her to fall in love with books and reading, which in turn enables her to find true love in her life. And then there is Momoko's story of heartbreak and reconciliation.
A Story of Searching
It's important to stand still sometimes. Think of it as a little rest in the long journey of your life. This is your harbor. And your boat is just dropping anchor here for a little while. And after you're well rested, you can set sail again.
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop has many words of wisdom to share with us as readers. The story has wonderful depths. The bookstore shares a metaphor as a safe haven and a harbour, (as Akira san so interestingly spoke about), and beautiful epithets which lap like wavelets and layer deeper and deeper into the novel.
Takako's uncle Satoru travelled the world before realising that the place that he belonged was Jimbocho in his father's bookstore. He had resisted it for a long time.
But, I don't know, maybe it takes a long time to figure out what you're truly searching for. Maybe you spend your whole life just to figure out a small part of it.
A Story of Healing
"So, when you were traveling around and reading all those books, you must have learned a lot, right?"
"It's funny. No matter where you go, or how many books you read, you still know nothing, you haven't seen anything. And that's life. We live our lives trying to find our way. It's like that Santouka Taneda poem, the one that goes, 'On and on, in and in, and still the blue-green mountains.'"
Like another of our book club readers, I was interested by the literary quotes that the author dropped into the story. It seemed necessary to follow them up, in case they expanded the meaning of what was being conveyed in the story.
I found another translation of this haiku, which subtly shifted its meaning:
going deeper
and still deeper
the green mountains.
In some ways, the experience of Takako paralleled the experience of the haiku author, Santoka. He was rescued from near calamity and taken to a place of sanctuary and stillness (a Zen temple) where he was neither reprimanded or questioned - he wasn't even asked his name. He was simply taken care of, and told that he could stay at the temple as long as he wished. In a similar way, Takako is given the quiet and calm that she needs to restore and regain her confidence.
The referenced haiku could even be a metaphor for the book, in that with its deceptively easy-reading style, it takes you deeper and deeper into what has true value in your life.
Part one of Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is very much located in a bookstore and a cafe which are within steps of each other. We know that Jimbocho will be good for Takako as soon as she comes up into the street from the metro and she feels fierce sunlight bearing down on her. When she decides to leave her uncle's store, we know that she is restored to herself: healed and ready to continue the adventure of her life.
A Story of Love
In part two of the story, we see that Takako is ready to help restore her beloved uncle, who so fiercely defended her against her terrible ex-boyfriend. The story opens out from the confines of the cramped bookshop and dusky cafe, and rings with the clarity of fresh mountain air and open vistas.
The story is clarified too, and our perception of Momoko begins to shift as we learn about her experiences and sadness. Perspective comes as Tokyo is viewed as a speck in the distance.
Momoko describes to Takako a dream, where she is paddling out to sea, and leaving Satoru behind. She realises that it is unbearable, and that she wants to see Satoru again.
In this story we discover the deep pain that can be shared within a loving marriage; we find love for friends, family, the agony of non-requited love, and the hope of new love. We discover love as the steadiness of quietly caring, and love as the urge to protect.
On loving again, Satoru urges Takako:
"There's one thing I want you to promise me," he said first as a preamble. Then he said, "Don't be afraid to love someone. When you fall in love, I want you to fall in love all the way. Even if it ends in heartache, please don't live a lonely life without love. I've been so worried that because of what happened you'll give up on falling in love. Love is wonderful. I don't want you to forget that. Those memories of people you love, they never disappear. They go on warming your heart as long as you live."
Connecting through Reading
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop connected us together as readers in our bookclub.
It's a book that reflects on the joy of connecting with readers of the past, too. Finding a pressed flower or a postcard between the pages of an old book; an inscription on the inside cover; or a comment in the margins. Books connect us to readers of the past in all sorts of ways.
Days at Morisaki Bookshop highlights the readers' joy of reading, too. As readers, we recognize that feeling of wonder when someone finds the same joy in a book that we do:
That day, when Uncle Satoru came around, I was still feeling excited.
Usually I hardly greeted him, so when I leapt to my feet, he looked back at me with wonder.
I had Until the Death of the Girl in my hand. "This book was good," I told him.
How did he react? All of a sudden, my uncle's face lit up - just like a kid who had gotten a wonderful birthday present.
"Really? You liked it?" My uncle was as excited as if it had happened to him.
This feeling translates to those comments and underlinings we might find in a borrowed book:
'The act of seeing is no small thing. To see something is to be possessed by it. Sometimes it carries off a part of you, sometimes it's your whole soul.'
At some point in the past, someone reading this book had felt moved to take a pen and draw a line under these words. It made me happy to think that because I had been moved by that same passage too. I was now connected to that stranger.
Your bookshelf at home is like a window into your mind: everything that you have considered, every avenue of the past that you have travelled. People that have moved you, scenes that have shaken you. And sharing a book is like sharing a tiny part of your self, saying, this is who I am.
Akira san gave us a thought-provoking presentation about his lifetime journey through his deep love of books: beginning with popular children's picture books and a love of manga, through Harry Potter and onward to a deep love of philosophical books by authors such as Kobo Abe, Descartes, and Plato. This passion for books functioned as a gateway to new worlds, carrying him through his academic study and profession. It is a journey which has culminated in him discovering his own academic publication in the modern bookstores of Jimbocho.
Akira san's presentation makes us think about our own journey, and the part that authors and illustrators have played in forming our own ideas and lives.
Which books have meant the most to you?
Thank you
The Morisaki Bookshop stands alone at the corner of a street crowded with used bookstores. It's tiny and old and really nothing much to look at. There aren't many customers. And because it has a limited selection, people who aren't interested in its specialty never give it a second glance.
But there are people who love this store. And as long as they're devoted to it, then that's enough. That's what my uncle Satoru, the shop's owner, always says with a smile. And I agree. Because I love the bookshop and its owner.
Thank you for joining us for our wonderful JanuaryInJapan Bookclub. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us - we had such an interesting discussion, and we value all of your ideas.
Thank you hugely to our dear friend Akira san, and of course, to Yukki x
And, thank you to our friends at Manilla Press, for sharing the wonderful art and bookclub questions with us!
Cathy
xx
Satoshi Yagisawa, Days at the Morisaki Bookshop, (Manilla Press).
Please contact Cathy if you would like to connect on Goodreads!
Comments