A review by p_knapp
Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa

emotional hopeful inspiring reflective relaxing medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

Sweet Bean Paste is a quietly luminous novel—tender, poetic, and deeply affecting. What begins as a seemingly modest story about making dorayaki in a small Japanese shop soon unfolds into a meditation on beauty, dignity, and the quiet pain of being othered.

At its heart are three unforgettable characters: Sentaro, the middle-aged man stuck in a life of regret; Tokue, the elderly woman with deformed hands and an unmatched gift for making sweet bean paste; and Wakana, the lonely schoolgirl who finds refuge in their company. Their interactions are subtle yet profound, and the bond that grows between them offers solace, understanding, and, ultimately, transformation.

The novel sheds light on a disturbing chapter of Japan’s modern history—the Leprosy Prevention Laws—and Tokue’s backstory brings with it a wave of both sorrow and awe. Sukegawa handles this history with grace: neither sensationalising it nor shying away from its cruelties. Tokue’s resilience in the face of a lifetime of isolation is quietly heroic.

What makes this novel so exceptional is its restraint. There’s no melodrama, no overwrought sentiment. Its emotional power lies in the small, sensory moments: the stirring of beans, the scent of cherry blossoms, the whisper of voices unheard by most. It’s in these moments that the story finds its rhythm and purpose.

One quote in particular captures the spirit of the novel perfectly:

“But if you live in the belief that they can be heard, then someday you might be able to hear them. She said that was the only way for us to live, to be like the poets. That’s what she said. If all you ever see is reality, you just want to die. The only way to get over barriers, she said, is to live in the spirit of already being over them.”

This is a story that urges us to listen—to others, to the world, to the beans simmering slowly on the stove. It reminds us that every life has meaning, and that there is beauty even in what society casts aside.

Quiet, profound, and exquisitely written, Sweet Bean Paste is the kind of book that lingers long after the final page. It broke my heart in the softest way and left me feeling more attentive to the small, tender things that make us human. I can’t recommend it enough.