Name: All the Lovers in the Night
ISBN: 9781609456993

Mieko Kawakami

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

It’s like the night is breathing. Like the sound of melted light.

 “Sometimes you can be okay with something, then the next day comes and it’s a totally different story.”

maia

The light at night is special because the overwhelming light of day has left us, and the remaining half draws on everything it has to keep the world around us bright.

Marsheila Harvy

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. 

Imie Kent-Muller

Why does the night have to be so beautful? As I wallk through the night, I remember what Mitsutsuka said to me. “Because at night, only half the world remains." 

The light at night is special because the overwhelming light of day has left us, and the remaining halt draws on everything it has to keep the world around us bright. 

For a little while, I just stood there, gazing up at the night sky. The layers and layers of clouds, not exactly white or gray, hung in the night sky like the outline of some kind of creature, enormous and moving without a sound, a sight that made my heart race. The brilliant white moon showed its face.

“I’m really not,” Hijiri answered forcefully. “It has nothing to do with believing or not believing. It’s more like…  I don’t want to rely on anything, no matter what it is. Whatever answer's on that paper, I don't want it, unless I get there on my own, using my own head. I'l decide what I'm going to do with my own life.”

Things that I was certain I hadn't noticed at the time, things that probably hadn't even happened, and things I never imagined Id remember sprang up and multiplied like wildflowers, growing silently and with incredible speed, filling my eyes and ears and heart.

In my chair, I surrendered myself to a world of sound that could only be described as sparkling. It made my head sway, and my breath grew deeper as my legs climbed up that evanescent staircase, each step a sheet of light. They would shimmer to life the second my sole made contact, then fizzle into stardust when I lifted my foot, only to be reborn as yet another step, gently showing me the way. That slowly winding spiral stairway of light ascended freely through the dark, and though I was unsure where it was taking me, or what I would find when I arrived, as long as the music was playing. As I climbed one step after another, I ran the soft part of my finger over every gleaming note, stringing them together in a necklace that l placed over my chest, or stretching them with both hands into a hoop of light that I could step inside and pass through, Over and over. I took a giant breath, my utterly transparent chest sparkling with light as if I’d swallowed a nebula from tens of thousands of light years away. My exhalation, sparkling WIth a mist of light, hovered before me, but if I scooped it up in my hands and took another deep breath, my arms and throat began to glow from the inside, down to my palms, and as gazed into them, I realized I was floating in space. I shut my eyes and held out my arms, shaking my body and head every which way, dancing and stirring up the light as I waltzed endlessly around my apartment.

Brett Lister

No matter where or how I looked, I knew that l would never find the time that we had spent together. 

“Some writers are great, but not successful. Then you get other writers are successful, but not so great. I’m sure there’s some sort of special principle behind it. 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?” 

Do I need to have thoughts all the time? 

“It’s not like I want people to hate me. I’m just not about go out of y way to make them like me, either. Being liked is wonderful and all, but that’s not what life is about, you know?” 

“Because at night, only half the world remains.” I count the lights. All the lights 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. Why is the night so beautiful? Why does it shine the way it does? Why is the night made up entirely of light?

I’m just saying that I enjoy your company. There’s nothing to get upset about, even if it doesn’t make sense to you,”

I started laughing, in an odd way that betrayed the fact that I was used to living my life in a daze, without giving anything much thought.

An uneasiness laced with regret climbed its way up my throat, nothing that a voice or sigh could shake.

“It’s crazy, right? Who has this much to say to people?”

When I got home, I was so overwhelmed by everything that I sprawled out on the kitchen floor, just by the entrance, and gazed up at the ceiling. An uneventful, quiet evening, spent on the floor, not even cold.

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

“And if that’s true, what’s memory anyway?” I shook my head and crossed my arms. “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?” At this point, something inside me cracked, and I began to laugh out loud.

Mieko Kawakami's work never fails to amaze me. The writing of her female characters hold a special part of my heart because of the relation I feel towards them.

gracie

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.

'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.

All The Lovers In The Night

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

ryan

[ “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

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.

Marta

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