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A review by mariekejee
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata
challenging
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
I'm not going to pretend to be the arbiter of comedy here. I understand that what I find funny is not universally so, and there are plenty of things that I recognise others might find hilarious, but are not for me. However.
I am completely stumped about this book. The cover is adorned by quotes from reviews and authors praising the book for its "quirky" and "hilarious" nature. But this book is not "quirky". Keiko is not "quirky". "Quirky" is wearing two differently coloured socks. "Quirky" is every piece of home decor from the 2010s with the ugly, stylised moustache on it. "Quirky" is not being so detached from any sense of "normalcy" that you need a convenience store worker manual to function.
I found nothing to laugh about in this book. I only found reasons to despair. The people in Keiko's life have failed her enormously, and it is incredibly frustrating to read about how she is unable to fit in. The fact that the people in her life seem only to be worried about her "being cured" or "being normal" instead of understanding her or helping her makes it a frustrating read. I would assume that was the point of the novel if the cover hadn't been plastered with advertisements of how fucking funny and weird it is supposed to be.
Emotionally, this book was a tough read. I cannot help but impose my experiences as a socially awkward and isolated kid onto Keiko.
"Getting fired from a casual job in a convenience store at his age! Hopeless, really. He'd be doing us all a favour if he dropped dead, seriously."
Everyone laughed. "He really would," I said nodding, thinking that if I ever became a foreign object, I'd no doubt be eliminated in much the same way.
I almost cried reading that. I was immediately transported to being a shy, awkward kid who didn't know how to act to make people like her and clung to any sense of "friendship". I don't identify with Keiko in many ways, but her isolation and distance from "normal society" and her inability to grasp how to decrease that distance is apparently still a deep wound from my youth, and one I did not think would still resonate with me today.
Shiraha is a fucking creep and an incel and I'm glad the book did not try to redeem him. He's a very unsubtle mirror to Keiko's 'otherness', where he too is unable to find a job or a partner. He too struggles with the expectations put upon him by society. However, instead of Keiko's indifference, there is anger and cruelty and narcissism. Instead of her focus on being a good worker, there is the wish to disappear and do nothing and leech off Keiko. The book clearly wants us to hate Shiraha and sympathise with Keiko - and to be fair, I do. But what is the narrative purpose of Shiraha? What is the conclusion to draw from this? That it's only okay to be an outcast if you're not upset about it? That failing in the eyes of society is only okay if you have a developmental disorder?
I don't know. Maybe this book just hit a nerve for me. I don't recall why I was excited to read this book, but I sure as hell got something different than what I expected. I enjoyed the read, but god was I glad it was a quick one: I don't think I would've been able to stay in Keiko's head for twice the amount of pages. I don't think I will recommend this book, despite me liking it.
I am completely stumped about this book. The cover is adorned by quotes from reviews and authors praising the book for its "quirky" and "hilarious" nature. But this book is not "quirky". Keiko is not "quirky". "Quirky" is wearing two differently coloured socks. "Quirky" is every piece of home decor from the 2010s with the ugly, stylised moustache on it. "Quirky" is not being so detached from any sense of "normalcy" that you need a convenience store worker manual to function.
I found nothing to laugh about in this book. I only found reasons to despair. The people in Keiko's life have failed her enormously, and it is incredibly frustrating to read about how she is unable to fit in. The fact that the people in her life seem only to be worried about her "being cured" or "being normal" instead of understanding her or helping her makes it a frustrating read. I would assume that was the point of the novel if the cover hadn't been plastered with advertisements of how fucking funny and weird it is supposed to be.
Emotionally, this book was a tough read. I cannot help but impose my experiences as a socially awkward and isolated kid onto Keiko.
"Getting fired from a casual job in a convenience store at his age! Hopeless, really. He'd be doing us all a favour if he dropped dead, seriously."
Everyone laughed. "He really would," I said nodding, thinking that if I ever became a foreign object, I'd no doubt be eliminated in much the same way.
I almost cried reading that. I was immediately transported to being a shy, awkward kid who didn't know how to act to make people like her and clung to any sense of "friendship". I don't identify with Keiko in many ways, but her isolation and distance from "normal society" and her inability to grasp how to decrease that distance is apparently still a deep wound from my youth, and one I did not think would still resonate with me today.
Shiraha is a fucking creep and an incel and I'm glad the book did not try to redeem him. He's a very unsubtle mirror to Keiko's 'otherness', where he too is unable to find a job or a partner. He too struggles with the expectations put upon him by society. However, instead of Keiko's indifference, there is anger and cruelty and narcissism. Instead of her focus on being a good worker, there is the wish to disappear and do nothing and leech off Keiko. The book clearly wants us to hate Shiraha and sympathise with Keiko - and to be fair, I do. But what is the narrative purpose of Shiraha? What is the conclusion to draw from this? That it's only okay to be an outcast if you're not upset about it? That failing in the eyes of society is only okay if you have a developmental disorder?
I don't know. Maybe this book just hit a nerve for me. I don't recall why I was excited to read this book, but I sure as hell got something different than what I expected. I enjoyed the read, but god was I glad it was a quick one: I don't think I would've been able to stay in Keiko's head for twice the amount of pages. I don't think I will recommend this book, despite me liking it.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Ableism
Moderate: Sexism