Books like The Nakano Thrift Shop — picked by fans

This one is different from the others because everyone loves a story, don’t they? Through Keiko, Sayaka Murata explores what it means to find stability within a clearly defined role while showing how quickly systems and social expectations question anything outside the norm. 

There is a terrific, palpable tension: a system that rewards conformity set against an individual making deliberate choices about how to live within or alongside it. I applaud Murata’s deft hand to expose how social pressure can determine identity, labour, and belonging, making Keiko’s small acts feel both radical and painfully ordinary. The novel asks a simple, urgent question: who decides what a meaningful working life looks like?

Unforeseen forces, mystery, and time travel in the confines of a coffee shop, what isn’t to like?

I read this book when I was in the middle of moving countries. The book helped me to slow down amongst all the turbulence of movers and then the dreaded Covid vaccination certificates. But with moving, I had to say goodbye to friends, and there was one close friend who did not like the fact I was leaving and, therefore, refused to see me before I left. There are many reasons why people react in certain ways, but I was hurt during that time and hoped that our friendship was more than that. 

This book made me think about what I would say to her in the future—hindsight is a great gift if only we could activate it in the present.

There's something poetic about Takashi Hiraide's writing—evocative, almost romantic—that I found deeply restful.

And given that I tend to read in bed at night, The Guest Cat became one of those books that I looked forward to settling down with. Hiraide is a Japanese poet, and though The Guest Cat is not poetry, I found the gentle, lyrical nature of the storytelling just beautiful, as is the cover—a Japanese ink drawing of Chibe, the sweet, neighborhood stray cat featured in this novel.

This is a book by one of my favorite contemporary Japanese writers.

Sweet Bean Paste is both charming and horrifying. The main character with a criminal past tries to turn his life around by working at a confectionary stall selling sweet pancakes to passersby. At this stall he meets an elderly woman with warped hands.

Through her we learn of the horrors of how leprosy patients used to be treated. It’s an enlightening and, yes, sweet tale and shows that the young have much to learn from those who came before them.

Full disclosure—Fiddler of the Roof is one of my favorite musicals of all time. I love the story, the music, the stage version, the movie, the various soundtracks…all of it. So it was an absolute pleasure to read this deep dive into the history of the show and understand the trials and tribulations that went into the journey to get it made.

Warning: This will incite you to listen to the soundtrack(s) and definitely want to watch the movie version (as of the writing of this piece, it was on Netflix!). You’ll be listening and watching with a new perspective of how Fiddler was an unexpected but well-earned hit.

For me, it's hard to find stories that are so willing to dive into the feel of a bygone era, especially one that is potentially as obscure to some audiences as the Heian period of Japan. Set in a period of slow change, this short story collection combines the tensions of the period (a rising warrior class, Shinto vs Buddhist religious tensions, factions in the imperial court) in combination with the rich variety of strange beings in the folklore of Japan. I love how it paints a picture of a world that is simultaneously grounded in human motivations and populated by the esoteric and supernatural.

The actual story as told by an actual geisha (rather than the male author of Memoirs of a Geisha), I was absolutely obsessed with this book when I began studying Japanese.

I loved the depictions of Kyoto pre-war and all the festivals, ceremonies, and intricacies that go into the life of a geisha. The post-retirement part of the story is also so real and human, and while it is a much quieter book compared to the sturm and drang of Memoirs of a Geisha, it has a delicate beauty that stuck with me. 

Away from the 2011 disaster itself, Fumio Obata’s Just So Happens is a wonderful graphic novel again exploring that borderland between konoyo (this world) and anoyo (that world). And it just happens to be another story that bridges Japan and the West, this time Japan and the UK. Central character Yumiko travels back to Japan for a family funeral, and is immersed in a world of ritual, Shinto temples, Noh theatre – at once both familiar and strange to her. Word and image combine beautifully to draw on themes that have obsessed me for years. 

Together with TV anime, the first video games (e.g. Space Invaders, Pac-Man, Donkey Kong) arrived in Italy between 1978 and 1981 and completely changed the way my friends and I spent our free time and pocket money. Ten years later I moved to Japan and, again, spent insanely long hours in dark game arcades playing Virtua Fighter. If, like me, you are a game addict, this book will tell you everything you need to know about game history and the intricacies and main personalities of each genre, from shooting and fighting games to retro and card-based games. It’s a huge saccharine high. Now excuse me but I gotta have my fix. 

Written by the 20th century’s leading interpreter of things Japanese, this travel memoir has a timeless, elegiac quality. Donald Richie lived in Tokyo, but he based this work on a series of trips through the waterways and fishing villages of the glittering Inland Sea. Beyond his beautiful sketches of the seascape itself, his warm, human interactions with fishermen, aunties, merchants, and monks give voice to a disappearing side of Japan. They also serve as a mirror into the metaphorical inland sea within himself––the good, bad, and ugly––which he freely reveals. Seeing the world Richie describes vanish evermore in the decades since, the book’s resonance only grows with age. This is why I find myself diving back into it again and again.