I’ve been noticing a shift lately—in the past, books and films seemed to demand drama: exciting plots, sharp twists, emotional rollercoasters. Now, it feels like the opposite. The more calm and quiet the story, the more comforting it feels. Maybe it’s because life itself has become so chaotic that we crave stillness in the stories we read. This book is a perfect example.
I’ve been noticing a shift lately—in the past, books and films seemed to demand drama: exciting plots, sharp twists, emotional rollercoasters. Now, it feels like the opposite. The more calm and quiet the story, the more comforting it feels. Maybe it’s because life itself has become so chaotic that we crave stillness in the stories we read. This book is a perfect example.
On the surface, not much happens. A girl breaks up with her boyfriend—an emotional blow that shakes her world. She’s given a chance to step back, take a breath, and find peace. That space comes in the form of a bookstore. No pressure, no drama, just quiet days in a safe environment.
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is a gentle reminder that peace can be deeply healing. It shows how little we actually need to feel happy, how simplicity can be powerful. It’s about slowing down, paying closer attention to the people around us, to their lives and stories. Everyone has their own path, their own journey.
The book is filled with typically Japanese nuances—both in the style of storytelling and in the lifestyle it portrays. The Tokyo references touched me deeply, especially since the story is set in Jimbocho. I’ve been there many times, walked those streets, visiteded those same bookshops. But after reading this, I’d love to return and see it all with fresh eyes.
The Japanese way of life, shaped so much by social expectations, still feels distant to me in some ways. Their quiet internal loneliness, their emotional reserve—it’s something I’m still trying to understand.
But overall, this book left me with a warm, lingering aftertaste. I’d recommend it if you enjoy slow, reflective reads, are interested in Japanese literature, and aren’t looking for intense drama. Sometimes, quiet stories are the ones that speak the loudest.
