Mieko Kawakami

Shy, lonely and introverted Fuyuko lives alone and fills her days with her job as a freelance proofreader. About to turn thirty-five, she cannot imagine ever having any emotional or successful relationship in her life as it currently stands. She is regularly haunted by encounters of the past. But Fuyuko loves the light and goes out on the night of her birthday, Christmas Eve, to count the lights. Her only friend, Hijiri, offers some light in her life, but it is a chance encounter with another man, Mr. Mitsutsuka, a physics teacher, who offers her access from another dimension to light. Pulsing, poetic, modern and shocking, The Night Belongs to Lovers is the third novel from internationally bestselling author Mieko Kawakami.

All The Lovers In The Night

'Mieko Kawakami is a genius' Naoise Dolan, author of Exciting Times From international literary sensation Mieko Kawakami comes All the Lovers in the Night, an extraordinary, deeply moving and insightful story set in contemporary Tokyo.

Fuyuko Irie is a freelance proofreader in her thirties. Living alone, and unable to form meaningful relationships, she has little contact with anyone other than Hijiri, someone she works with. When she sees her reflection, she's confronted with a tired and spiritless woman who has failed to take control of her own life. Her one source of solace: light. Every Christmas Eve, Fuyuko heads out to catch a glimpse of the lights that fill the Tokyo night. But it is a chance encounter with a man named Mitsutsuka that awakens something new in her. And so her life begins to change. As Fuyuko starts to see the world in a different light, painful memories from her past begin to resurface. Fuyuko needs to be loved, to be heard, and to be seen. But living in a small world of her own making, will she find the strength to bring down the walls that surround her? All the Lovers in the Night is acute and insightful, entertaining and captivating, pulsing and poetic, modern and shocking. It's another unforgettable novel from Japan's most exciting writer. Translated from the Japanese by Sam Bett and David Boyd.

 Had I ever chosen anything on my own, made something happen? Not once. And that's why I was here now, all alone.

Bestselling author of Breasts and Eggs Mieko Kawakami invites readers back into her immediately recognizable fictional world with this new, extraordinary novel and demonstrates yet again why she is one of today's most uncategorizable, insightful, and talented novelists. Fuyuko Irie is a freelance copy editor in her mid-thirties. Working and living alone in a city where it is not easy to form new relationships, she has little regular contact with anyone other than her editor, Hijiri, a woman of the same age but with a very different disposition. When Fuyoku stops one day on a Tokyo street and notices her reflection in a storefront window, what she sees is a drab, awkward, and spiritless woman who has lacked the strength to change her life and decides to do something about it. As the long overdue change occurs, however, painful episodes from Fuyuko's past surface and her behavior slips further and further beyond the pale. All the Lovers in the Night is acute and insightful, entertaining and engaging; it will make readers laugh, and it will make them cry, but it will also remind them, as only the best books do, that sometimes the pain is worth it.

All the Lovers in the Night

ryan

The questions never found their way into words. Not like he made it hard for me to ask. Far from it. I simply couldn't get the words out.

I couldn't even see inside my feelings far enough to know what they meant.

yearner.

 Sometimes a memory jumps out at you, even though almost everything is lost forever. But what if all the things that we can’t remember are actually the most important ones?”

Hijiri on individual identity and creative liberty.

cha ☁️

I mean, that feeling like none of this is mine, like it’s just something I picked up somewhere, sometimes I start to think that maybe even that’s something I ripped off.

Hijiri on the authenticity of individual feelings/ sentiments.

This I find particularly fascinating - Kawakami is contesting the presumption that our feelings (unlike our thoughts) are always authentically ours. But how much of our feelings towards a particular social encounter is actually taught rather then authentically felt? And how much of what we feel is thus conditioned the moment we learn the language to give it meaning?

[…]but when it comes to emotions, feelings, moods, all these things, I can never figure out where mine end and other people’s begin.

“Just a miserable woman, who couldn’t even enjoy herself on a gorgeous day like this, on her own in the city, desperately hugging a bag full to bursting with the kind of things that other people wave off or throw in the trash the first chance they get.”

“It’s like they say, trust is a two-way street. Reliance can be one-sided, though. Know what I mean? One side depends on the other. That’s not a partnership. And that’s why relationships based on reliance are pretty unstable. One little hiccup and everything could disappear.”

I always could not find a proper correlation as to why, we, as humans, find beauty in such things; but sometimes when I look at the night sky, I simply stop wondering. Maybe these are the things in life that are not meant to be understood or deliberately explained.

"Why does the night have to be so beautiful?" “Because at night, only half the world remains.” 

I'm touching you, I said quietly. If this means I can't get any closer, I'm fine with that, because I'm touching you. 

Marsheila Harvy

I remembered that night, how I counted the lights, walking through coldness so profound that I could almost hear it, through that dry air slickened with so many special things. Before long, the hottest part of summer would be here, which would then give way to fall, followed by winter. And then that night would come again. As I took in the night, I looked over and saw that Mitsutsuka's shirt was glowing white, from his shoulders down his back.

I count the lights. All the lighte of the night. The red light at the intersection, trembling as if wet, even though it isn't raining. Streetlight after streetlight. Taillights trailing off into the distance. The soft glow from the windows. Phones in the hands of people just arriving home, and people just about to go somewhere.

Marta

"That's right. As long as you're living on this planet, you have to be serious about something, but it's better to be serious about a limited number of things."

𝒦

‘Dead inside’ is a little too dramatic. I just feel hard and numb, like some part of me is losing all feeling. I can’t stand being alone. It’s hard to put my finger on it, but I know it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Memory’s funny, isn’t it? We remember some things out of nowhere, but so much of what happens, we never think about again.”

“I mean, there are way too many things you’ll never remember. Sometimes a memory jumps out at you, even though almost everything is lost forever. But what if all the things that we can’t remember are actually the most important ones?”

“I’ve never given much thought to love… But what ultimately lasts is something that can’t simply change or disappear at any moment.. It’s trust.”

moonstone

“Why does the night have to be so beautiful?” 

As I wallk through the night, I remember what Mitsutsuka said to me. 

"Because at night, only half the world remains." 

nadyra

“… what if my whole life was just a quote from something else, only I never realize it? That's where my brain goes."

“I mean, that feeling like none of this is mine, like it's just something I picked up somewhere, sometimes I start to think that maybe even that's something I ripped off.”

"I don't know, I guess sometimes I feel happy or sad or worried... or maybe I get really into something on TV, or really like the flavor of some giant shrimp, whatever. But sometimes I have to wonder if those thoughts or feelings might be coming from the things I read for work. When I start to feel emotional about something, I can't tell if I'm actually feeling that way. What if it's just something somebody wrote in a book? Or maybe a line or a performance from some movie... Either way, I get this feeling like I'm quoting somebody else's work."

ashtray

"A buzz can feel so good, though-if you don't overdo it. It loosens you up, makes everything a little softer. I don't really get drunk or anything, but life without alcohol would be kind of unbearable for me."

nana

Then a question suddenly came to me. What had I been doing up until now?

Had I ever chosen anything? Had I made some kind of choice that led me here? Thinking it over, I stared at the cell phone in my hands. The job that I was doing, the place where I was living, the fact that I was all alone and had no one to talk to! Could these have been the result of some decision that I'd made?

Iheard a crow crying somewhere in the distance and turned to the window. It occurred to me that maybe I was where I was hadn't chosen anything.

rere ^_^

Then again, I guess there are things like that everywhere. We get this all the time as women, right? Like, if you make plenty of money but don’t have any kids, you might get called successful. But unless you have kids, no one will ever call you a great woman. You know what I mean?

But the pain was already so far away. It was a pain that existed in memory, growing weaker by the day, a pain I was forgetting and would soon lose entirely.

A very fascinating character study! Such poetic language, it really feels as if she weaves every sentence with so much intention. This left an incredible impression on me :)

Milo

reading all the lovers in the night felt like being submerged in still water—quiet, almost too quiet—until the ripples of loneliness and self-reflection start to pull you in. at first, fuyuko’s life seemed so uneventful that it was hard to fully grasp where the story was heading, but the deeper it went, the more it became an intimate portrait of isolation, brief connections, and the fragility of human warmth. i was honestly pissed at how she kept purposely isolating herself, almost sabotaging her own chances at happiness, and even more so when mitsutsuka suddenly disappeared without closure. mieko kawakami’s writing here is delicate but piercing, letting you sit with the silences and the awkward spaces between people, until you realize that the emptiness itself is the point. it’s not a book that shouts, but one that lingers like a low hum in your chest.

I hate men, and I love girlhood. In the end, it will always be the women around us despite everything.

merliah

// this book surprised me but at the same time made me feel so calm while reading it. it’s deeply sad, as loneliness usually is. i really liked the conversations throughout the story, they felt so real and compelling. i’m not sure if i liked the ending, maybe i was hoping for other things, maybe more light* nonetheless, i did find myself enjoying every bit of the story. at the end it’s about isolation, vulnerability and the type of relationships we create when we choose (or refuse) to confront ourselves. //

3.75

// this book surprised me but at the same time made me feel so calm while reading it. it’s deeply sad, as loneliness usually is. i really liked the conversations throughout the story, they felt so real and compelling. i’m not sure if i liked the ending, maybe i was hoping for other things, maybe more light* nonetheless, i did find myself enjoying every bit of the story. at the end it’s about isolation, vulnerability and the type of relationships we create when we choose (or refuse) to confront ourselves. //

this is really describe my longing phase in a novel

kanae akari

love how it embraces the discomfort and awkwardness of meeting new people.. never going out of its way to force anything.. slowly getting comfortable and developing genuine feelings toward someone... making for an honest and relatable story

[ “why does the night have to be so beautiful?” / “because at night, only half the world remains.” ]

as the night sky drapes over half of the world, i am reminded of all the love the world contains. it’s fascinating how language, ever so simple, can be used to convey feelings, emotions, and even experiences i never thought would have names. this is a nod, a silent hum, the crackle of rocks being the only thing you hear as you walk, a flickering streetlight, pauses between words, commas and periods, a paper cut that stings, and so much more. you read the words and you feel something, sometimes even everything. in between the moments spent traveling the familiar route from your home to the train station to the cafe you frequent to, you found your name, a love and a heartbreak, words that never left your mouth, and a life worth living. there isn’t a pretty resolution, a chapter that you know sounds like cheers and claps, but that is life and when we write and read literature, it mirrors what we, humans, all have—a life. 

*it reminds me of that quote by an author (whose name i do not remember) which says that often, you think of your experiences as unique and then you read books and see that it isn’t unique to you and people, even centuries before your own birth, has walked the same paths as you did. this is that, this is the proof of that. 

開花

[ “why does the night have to be so beautiful?” / “because at night, only half the world remains.” ]

as the night sky drapes over half of the world, i am reminded of all the love the world contains. it’s fascinating how language, ever so simple, can be used to convey feelings, emotions, and even experiences i never thought would have names. this is a nod, a silent hum, the crackle of rocks being the only thing you hear as you walk, a flickering streetlight, pauses between words, commas and periods, a paper cut that stings, and so much more. you read the words and you feel something, sometimes even everything. in between the moments spent traveling the familiar route from your home to the train station to the cafe you frequent to, you found your name, a love and a heartbreak, words that never left your mouth, and a life worth living. there isn’t a pretty resolution, a chapter that you know sounds like cheers and claps, but that is life and when we write and read literature, it mirrors what we, humans, all have—a life. 

*it reminds me of that quote by an author (whose name i do not remember) which says that often, you think of your experiences as unique and then you read books and see that it isn’t unique to you and people, even centuries before your own birth, has walked the same paths as you did. this is that, this is the proof of that. 

The book that ended my reading slump. One thing Mieko does particularly well is translating conversations between characters into text naturally, without any awkwardness; you can easily imagine these words being spoken by real people. The plot was engaging and pleasantly unexpected, and I loved the themes she explored in this book. I recommend this one!

this is the third time i've read this book. in fact, it's a book that i find myself returning to ever so often.

the title can be a tad bit misleading. certainly, this is a book about love—but not the kind of love one would usually expect. it’s not about falling in love with a stranger who shows you fascinating things in a new light. rather, it’s learning to love your life and where your decisions (and indecisions) have taken you.

i glean something new between these pages every time i pick up kawakami’s work. such a nuanced way of tackling social issues that fall squarely on women’s shoulders in modern society. i won’t be surprised to find myself reaching for this again soon.

kuuri

this is the third time i've read this book. in fact, it's a book that i find myself returning to ever so often.

the title can be a tad bit misleading. certainly, this is a book about love—but not the kind of love one would usually expect. it’s not about falling in love with a stranger who shows you fascinating things in a new light. rather, it’s learning to love your life and where your decisions (and indecisions) have taken you.

i glean something new between these pages every time i pick up kawakami’s work. such a nuanced way of tackling social issues that fall squarely on women’s shoulders in modern society. i won’t be surprised to find myself reaching for this again soon.

Fuyuko Irie is a freelance copy editor in her mid-thirties. Working and living alone in a city where it is not easy to form new relationships, she has little regular contact with anyone other than her editor, Hijiri, a woman of the same age but with a very different disposition. When Fuyoku stops one day on a Tokyo street and notices her reflection in a storefront window, what she sees is a drab, awkward, and spiritless woman who has lacked the strength to change her life and decides to do something about it.

As the long overdue change occurs, however, painful episodes from Fuyuko’s past surface and her behavior slips further and further beyond the pale. All the Lovers in the Night is acute and insightful, entertaining and engaging; it will make readers laugh, and it will make them cry, but it will also remind them, as only the best books do, that sometimes the pain is worth it.

Antonia Folch

Sexual assault / rape / alcohol addiction / sexual content / borderline mental illness.

Instead of a review, I want to share some reflections from my reading journal on 

What if the life we live isn’t truly our own but one dictated by someone else’s expectations? Or worse, what if our emotions are nothing more than echoes of others’ experiences, unconsciously adopted and mistaken for our own? I wonder would it really be so terrible to live like an NPC? A life preordained, where choices are made for you, and the weight of consequence is lifted. Who—or what—are we truly living for? God only knows. And what of our feelings? Do they carry any inherent significance, or are they just weights we bear, dismissed at every turn? “Get over it,” they say. Is it any wonder so many of us feel untethered, when our emotions are treated as inconsequential? How much of ourselves do we keep hidden, untouched by the eyes of others? And how much of our identity has already been shaped, or stolen, by their assumptions and judgments? It’s terrifying how easily people craft versions of us that suit their narratives, as though they truly know who we are. Must we perpetuate this cycle of prejudice just to belong, to avoid being labeled as “outdated” or “different”? Society demands we adhere to its unspoken rules, yet offers no guide for navigating them, leaving us vulnerable to being misunderstood. Does Fuyuko Irie ever know joy? Does she even believe it necessary? Her relentless self-suppression and isolation feel all too familiar, like a shadow that lingers. But then, who is the lover in this story? Who are we meant to love in a way that brings us peace? Have you ever experienced a love so profound, so devastating, that it feels like gazing into an endless abyss?

Once again, I find myself in awe of Mieko Kawakami’s writing. Her prose carries a quiet urgency, an aching that pulls you deeper into every sentence. She writes with such clarity, evoking feelings you didn’t know you had until they overwhelm you. Her words leave you raw, disarmed, and yearning. Have you ever loved so deeply that it unraveled you, leaving you speechless as the intensity slipped through your grasp? That’s the experience of reading 

. Kawakami doesn’t just tell a story—she lays bare the soul.

🏹

Content Warnings

Sexual assault / rape / alcohol addiction / sexual content / borderline mental illness.

Instead of a review, I want to share some reflections from my reading journal on All the Lovers in the Night... c:


What if the life we live isn’t truly our own but one dictated by someone else’s expectations? Or worse, what if our emotions are nothing more than echoes of others’ experiences, unconsciously adopted and mistaken for our own? I wonder would it really be so terrible to live like an NPC? A life preordained, where choices are made for you, and the weight of consequence is lifted. Who—or what—are we truly living for? God only knows. And what of our feelings? Do they carry any inherent significance, or are they just weights we bear, dismissed at every turn? “Get over it,” they say. Is it any wonder so many of us feel untethered, when our emotions are treated as inconsequential? How much of ourselves do we keep hidden, untouched by the eyes of others? And how much of our identity has already been shaped, or stolen, by their assumptions and judgments? It’s terrifying how easily people craft versions of us that suit their narratives, as though they truly know who we are. Must we perpetuate this cycle of prejudice just to belong, to avoid being labeled as “outdated” or “different”? Society demands we adhere to its unspoken rules, yet offers no guide for navigating them, leaving us vulnerable to being misunderstood. Does Fuyuko Irie ever know joy? Does she even believe it necessary? Her relentless self-suppression and isolation feel all too familiar, like a shadow that lingers. But then, who is the lover in this story? Who are we meant to love in a way that brings us peace? Have you ever experienced a love so profound, so devastating, that it feels like gazing into an endless abyss?

Once again, I find myself in awe of Mieko Kawakami’s writing. Her prose carries a quiet urgency, an aching that pulls you deeper into every sentence. She writes with such clarity, evoking feelings you didn’t know you had until they overwhelm you. Her words leave you raw, disarmed, and yearning. Have you ever loved so deeply that it unraveled you, leaving you speechless as the intensity slipped through your grasp? That’s the experience of reading All the Lovers in the Night. Kawakami doesn’t just tell a story—she lays bare the soul.

something clenched, between a breath and balled fist, but also a blurred line between acceptance and defeat, a symptom of heartbreak from life. may there always be companion in women’s world

solitones

books to read on the train to make you look like a sad hot girl intellectual

baku

Nothing really big happens in the story however, it was still intriguing to follow Fuyuko’s mundane life. 

It was nice to see her slowly understanding her emotions and actually making choices for herself.

Not gonna lie, I was a bit uncomfortable with the age gap between her and Mitsutsuka but the way their relationship progressed was quite wholesome. It was just sad to see Fuyuko getting heartbroken as she was slowly opening up to others…

Meiko Kawakami’s depiction of womanhood is really interesting and that strikes me a lot. I can’t wait to read more book from her.

jinny

Nothing really big happens in the story however, it was still intriguing to follow Fuyuko’s mundane life. 

It was nice to see her slowly understanding her emotions and actually making choices for herself.

Not gonna lie, I was a bit uncomfortable with the age gap between her and Mitsutsuka but the way their relationship progressed was quite wholesome. It was just sad to see Fuyuko getting heartbroken as she was slowly opening up to others…

Meiko Kawakami’s depiction of womanhood is really interesting and that strikes me a lot. I can’t wait to read more book from her.

sani

“Why does the night have to be so beautiful? Because at night, only half the world remains.”

i am willing to read even Kawakami's grocery lists now because why does every work of her rip me apart, thrashes me in pieces and makes me want to end it all? 

All the Lovers in the Night was cold and distant in the beginning but i got really attached by the midpoint. the book talked about depression, anxiety, loneliness without describing it clinically and i really really liked it. 

also, how foolish of me to assume that she'd give us a happy ending because i was actually really interested in Mitsutsuka and Fuyuko's relationship but i do understand because it would have been hard to work out considering their age gap. in my mind, they're together though! 

a book for the sad girlies.

Lettuce Wrapped Cabbage Cat

Reading this feels really comforting as an insomniac. Is it bad that I romanticize a love where two people who have a hard time sleeping try to keep each other company so the other doesn't feel lonely? Maybe I've had a similar experience once. I'll probably never forget that person who stayed up with me all night until dawn when he noticed I had a hard time sleeping. 

There are times where I'd walk through the open air at night past 10 PM after we've exhausted all the hours in a cafe we've stayed all day. I'd take my gray backpack and tread it lightly on my shoulders despite its overbearing weight. I'd walk through the night with music blasting from both sides of my ears as if there wasn't a wary amount of danger looming around the whole area. There'd be no people and I'd walk like I had just won the lottery and had shoved people away from town. I'd waltz through the black-cladded roads layered with asphalt like I owned that side of Downtown. In some ways, my lone walks in the night reminded me a lot of Fuyuko. It was peaceful despite the possible danger. Just my music, my thoughts, and my leftover coffee I brought that ended up becoming bland from the melted ice as I let it stall all day before finishing it altogether. With the music straying away from the awkward silence from outside, I'd stare at the moon and think about the light it emits. I get a sort of jitter when I look up and see a full moon. Astrology has misconstrued my thoughts about the waning phases of the moon that everytime a full moon is plastered around the sky, I get a little nervous for no reason. If the light is in an unusual color, however, like a yellow that's too vibrant or if the light it emits is unlike most days, I get excited despite its full shape staring right at me. Sometimes I could feel the moon talking to me through its shapes, through the colors of the light it illuminates, its position in the sky; it's an odd yet lightheaded feeling, but it brings an immense amount of comfort within me as if it could read my every thought, as if it knew what loneliness meant when I stopped in my tracks and stared at it through the dimly lit streets from the uneven sidewalks right outside the plaza. In some ways, I could feel the moon empathizing with me, as if in a way, could share with me its loneliness. I start wondering in a strange way if it could properly talk, what would it say to me as I stare into it with nothingness?

Reading this feels really comforting as an insomniac. Is it bad that I romanticize a love where two people who have a hard time sleeping try to keep each other company so the other doesn't feel lonely? Maybe I've had a similar experience once. I'll probably never forget that person who stayed up with me all night until dawn when he noticed I had a hard time sleeping. 

There are times where I'd walk through the open air at night past 10 PM after we've exhausted all the hours in a cafe we've stayed all day. I'd take my gray backpack and tread it lightly on my shoulders despite its overbearing weight. I'd walk through the night with music blasting from both sides of my ears as if there wasn't a wary amount of danger looming around the whole area. There'd be no people and I'd walk like I had just won the lottery and had shoved people away from town. I'd waltz through the black-cladded roads layered with asphalt like I owned that side of Downtown. In some ways, my lone walks in the night reminded me a lot of Fuyuko. It was peaceful despite the possible danger. Just my music, my thoughts, and my leftover coffee I brought that ended up becoming bland from the melted ice as I let it stall all day before finishing it altogether. With the music straying away from the awkward silence from outside, I'd stare at the moon and think about the light it emits. I get a sort of jitter when I look up and see a full moon. Astrology has misconstrued my thoughts about the waning phases of the moon that everytime a full moon is plastered around the sky, I get a little nervous for no reason. If the light is in an unusual color, however, like a yellow that's too vibrant or if the light it emits is unlike most days, I get excited despite its full shape staring right at me. Sometimes I could feel the moon talking to me through its shapes, through the colors of the light it illuminates, its position in the sky; it's an odd yet lightheaded feeling, but it brings an immense amount of comfort within me as if it could read my every thought, as if it knew what loneliness meant when I stopped in my tracks and stared at it through the dimly lit streets from the uneven sidewalks right outside the plaza. In some ways, I could feel the moon empathizing with me, as if in a way, could share with me its loneliness. I start wondering in a strange way if it could properly talk, what would it say to me as I stare into it with nothingness?

didn’t blow me away (maybe it’s a personal bias against japanese literature for being too rambly sometimes) but this was a nice short read - recommend if you just want smth short to read about how lonely people can be (relatable)

Ianna Chia

Sometimes, I read books in a language foreign to their original writing and I don't know if I should thank the translator or the author. But that is a silly thing to think as I can easily thank them both. 

I love the flow of this book, the way the words and sentences are arranged... it all seems to bend so seamlessly. It has some pretty meaningful passages that stuck with me.

Love and the awkardness of it, Love and the excitement of it, Love and the dread of it, Love and the sadness of it... Love. 

There is a lot and so little to say about this. But at the end of it, I see it as book about relationships and the absence of it. The relationship we have with work, with friends, with acquaintances, with (potential) lovers... 

I don't know where I'm going with this and, to be honest, I don't think this book knows it too. But that is fine because I get it.

Sometimes, I read books in a language foreign to their original writing and I don't know if I should thank the translator or the author. But that is a silly thing to think as I can easily thank them both. 

I love the flow of this book, the way the words and sentences are arranged... it all seems to bend so seamlessly. It has some pretty meaningful passages that stuck with me.

Love and the awkardness of it, Love and the excitement of it, Love and the dread of it, Love and the sadness of it... Love. 

There is a lot and so little to say about this. But at the end of it, I see it as book about relationships and the absence of it. The relationship we have with work, with friends, with acquaintances, with (potential) lovers... 

I don't know where I'm going with this and, to be honest, I don't think this book knows it too. But that is fine because I get it.

Lindy

It was good... but everything I liked about it was done better in Breasts and Eggs by the same author, so.

Selin Igten

amari

trezaa

it really captures loneliness and living a mundane life in a poetic yet simple way

All The Lovers In The Night

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