Forgive me, friends, but my December has been a bit muddled as of late. As such, I haven’t found the right time to read Ursula K. Le Guin’s fourth Earthsea Cycle novel Tehanu, but instead have picked up Days at the Morisaki Bookshop as a short, but soul-touching read to get some good healing vibes this side of Christmas. My mind needs a gentle book to ease the stresses, and this looks like the perfect pick.

Hidden in Jimbocho, Tokyo, is a booklover’s paradise. On a quiet corner in an old wooden building lies a shop filled with hundreds of second-hand books. Twenty-five-year-old Takako has never liked reading, although the Morisaki bookshop has been in her family for three generations. It is the pride and joy of her uncle Satoru, who has devoted his life to the bookshop since his wife Momoko left him five years earlier. When Takako’s boyfriend reveals he’s marrying someone else, she reluctantly accepts her eccentric uncle’s offer to live rent-free in the tiny room above the shop. Hoping to nurse her broken heart in peace, Takako is surprised to encounter new worlds within the stacks of books lining the Morisaki bookshop. As summer fades to autumn, Satoru and Takako discover they have more in common than they first thought. The Morisaki bookshop has something to teach them both about life, love, and the healing power of books.

I know that the ‘books about healing’ category doesn’t resonate with many people, or, at the very least, it is a one-and-done situation. Akin to Welcome to the Hyunam-dong Bookshop and A Psalm for the Wild-Built, Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is short and sweet and all about love, healing, and finding a way forward. It is a very easy read, with chapters that breeze by and characters who are silly, serious, and genuine in their emotions. The pacing, while not connected to an intense plot, feels calm and steady in its movement. It isn’t as slow-going as I anticipated, which works well for me, as I get bored with such books. Overall, Days at the Morisaki Bookshop has been a pleasant and satisfying read.

But it has me thinking: what is it about books with these kinds of storylines? Do these therapeutic reads resonate with more people than we realise? Are there more readers out there who should give these a go? I know there is a little hesitation across the board when it comes to picking up books outside of your comfort zone, and frankly, I feel a lot of people are not familiar with the writing styles and narrative structures of these healing books, often written by asian authors and centred in Japan or South Korea. There are just one too many differences to comfortably pick up these book recs, but I think that notion should be challenged. Books about human connection, human purpose, and the human condition are books we should all be reading. They are novels of such emotional weight and insight, and the enlightenment one can get from these reads contests the wisdom built up over years of personal experience. Because that’s what these novels provide – the lived experiences of these authors who are bringing lessons and reflections to the page for readers to absorb, enjoy, and ponder over. It is a brilliant method of storytelling, and I know I will be coming back againa nd again when I need a break from the intensity of life and overload of heavy reading.

Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is an addition to your tbr list you should definitely consider, if not make right now. At 150 pages, it is a quick and fulfilling read, and a pleasurable way to spend a few hours in your schedule.