Convenience store woman

This is one of the most delightful and quirky books I've read in some time. The protagonist of the novel, Keiko, is neurodivergent, 36 years old, has never had a physical relationship with anyone, has been working at the same convenience store since she was 18 and has a sister who hopes that one day Keiko will be 'cured'. Her relationship with the convenience store is everything. It regulates her sleeping patterns, the food she eats and her personal appearance. It even provides her with a script on interacting with the customers.

However, working in a convenience store is not seen as a real job and besides, at her age, Keiko should be considering marriage and children. These things mean nothing to Keiko. Instead, she spends her days copying mannerisms, expressions and dress styles from her coworkers to build a repertoire of social normality so that her circle of friends continue to suspect nothing.

Convenience Store Woman is told through Kekio's eyes and so we see the world as she sees it, in all its confusing glory. The writing style is, like Keiko herself, honest and to the point. I read this book as a humorous commentary, if not satire, regarding Japanese working culture. On another level, it serves as a general critique of Japanese society and those, particularly women, through no fault of their own are doomed never to fit in. For someone like Keiko, not fitting in could be perceived as real freedom. Overall, I enjoyed this book and would recommend it to those who like a bit of quirk with their fiction.

A sample of the text:

One Sunday, a month after I’d called her, my sister turned up to lecture Shiraha. 

She is generally a sweet, gentle person, but she was extremely tense as she demanded to come in. “I have to say something. It’s for your own good, Keiko,” she said. 

I told Shiraha he could wait outside, but he merely said, “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” apparently resolved to stay in the apartment. This was surprising, given how much he hated being raked over the coals. 

“My husband is looking after Yutaro. As well he should, from time to time,” she said as she came in the door. 

“I see. It’s a bit cramped in here, but make yourself at home.” 

It was the first time in ages I’d seen her without her son, and she looked as though she’d somehow mislaid something. 

“You didn’t have to come all the way over here. If you’d called me, I’d have gone to your apartment as usual.” 

“It’s okay. Today I wanted to take my time talking to you. I’m not disturbing you, am I?” She glanced around the room. “Oh, but what about the guy living with you? Is he out today? I hope I didn’t scare him off.” 

“What? No, he’s here.” 

“Oh! But where is he? I must say hello!” she said, jumping up. 

“Don’t worry about it. There’s really no need. Oh, but it’s about feeding time anyway.” I took some boiled potatoes and cabbage from the cooking pan and put them along with some rice into a washbasin I kept in the kitchen and took it to the bathroom. 

Shiraha was sitting on cushions he’d stuffed into the bathtub and fiddling with his smartphone. I held his feed out for him, and he took it. 

“The bathroom? Is he in the bath?” 

“Yes, it’s really cramped when we’re together in the room, so I’m keeping him in there.” My sister looked incredulous, so I explained further. “I mean, this apartment is really old, isn’t it? Shiraha says that taking a coin-pay shower is better than getting into such an old bath. He gives me small change to cover the cost of my shower and his feed. It’s a bit of a hassle, but it’s convenient having him here. Everyone’s really happy for me. They’re all congratulating me. They’ve all convinced themselves my new situation is great, and they’ve stopped poking their nose into my business. So he’s useful.” 

She looked down. Maybe this time she finally got it, now that I’d explained it carefully to her. 

“Oh, by the way, I bought some custard puddings that were past their sell date. Do you want one?” 

“I never imagined it was anything like this,” she said, her voice trembling. 

Surprised, I looked at her and saw she appeared to be crying. 

“What’s wrong? Oh, I’ll go get some tissues!” I said immediately, using Sugawara’s speech style. Then I stood up. 

“Will you ever be cured, Keiko ...?” She looked down, not even bothering to remonstrate with me. “I simply can’t take it anymore. How can we make you normal? How much longer must I put up with this?” 

“What? You’ve been putting up with me? If that’s the case, you needn’t have gone to all the trouble of coming to see me, surely?” I told her honestly. 

She stood up, tears pouring down her face. “Keiko, won’t you come to see a counselor with me? Please? Let’s get you help. It’s the only way.” 

“I went to see one when I was little, but it didn’t do any good, did it? And I don’t even know what it is I need to be cured of.” 

“Ever since you started working at the convenience store, you’ve gotten weirder and weirder. The way you talk, the way you yell out at home as if you were still in the store, and even your facial expressions are weird. I’m begging you. Please try to be normal!” She began crying even harder. 

“So, will I be cured if I leave the convenience store? Or am I better staying working there? And should I kick Shiraha out? Or am I better with him here? Look, I’ll do whatever you say. I don’t mind either way, so please just instruct me in specic terms.” 

“I don’t know anymore ...” 

She kept crying uncontrollably without responding to my request. Lost for something to do I took a custard pudding out of the refrigerator and ate it as I watched her sitting there sobbing. 

Just then there was the sound of the bathroom door opening. I turned in surprise and saw Shiraha standing there. 

“I’m so sorry. To tell you the truth, your sister and I just had a ght. I made a real embarrassing spectacle of myself, didn’t I? You must be really shocked.” 

I stared openmouthed at him. It wasn’t at all like him to be such a smooth talker. 

“The fact is that I’d connected with my ex-girlfriend on Facebook and we went out drinking together. Keiko was furious when she found out. She refused to let me sleep with her and shut me in the bathroom.” 

My sister stared at him for a while as if mulling over the meaning of what he was saying. Then she clutched hold of him and stood up, her face the picture of a believer who had just come across the priest in church. 

“So that’s what happened ... I see, so that’s it!” 

“And when I heard you were on your way up to the apartment, I thought I’d better keep out of the way. I didn’t want to be lectured to.” 

“Yes ... absolutely! When I heard from my sister that you’re just loafing around without a job, I was worried that she was being duped by some weirdo ... but now I hear you’re unfaithful too! That’s really inexcusable!” 

She looked as happy as happy can be as she started laying into him. 

So that was it: now that she thinks he’s “one of us” she can lecture him. She’s far happier thinking her sister is normal, even if she has a lot of problems, than she is having an abnormal sister for whom everything is fine. For her, normality—however messy—is far more comprehensible.