Editorial Content for Dinner at the Night Library

DINNER AT THE NIGHT LIBRARY is a quick story of a young woman working at a bizarre library. But its relatively short length does not prevent author Hika Harada from making every word count. Harada has produced a novel that feels real, a common praise that has become so overused by pretentious book reviewers that it has lost its meaning. Her writing and creative choices recreate her protagonist’s day-to-day existence, allowing readers to feel like they’re following a person through the randomness of their life.

Fictional works can often feel unreal when their careful plot and character development come across as creative choices an artist made, but DINNER AT THE NIGHT LIBRARY finds a gray area between unrealistic fantasy and mundane reality. The plot and characters change as the story goes on, and readers accept them the same way they accept changes in their own lives and inner circles --- subconsciously.

Translator Philip Gabriel shows off his skills right away in the opening. Otoha Higuchi explains that her name derives from Ichiyo Higuchi, “the famous female writer from the Meiji period, the -ha in Otoha being written with the same character as the -yo in Ichiyo, meaning ‘leaf.’” This is a rare instance of Gabriel explaining Japanese culture to the book’s American audiences. He took the time in the quoted passage to talk a little about our protagonist’s background and the Japanese language, but his translation refrains from dumbing down or Americanizing Harada’s writing.

"DINNER AT THE NIGHT LIBRARY manages to create a strong, realistic feel while also appealing to those who want to escape their own lives."

Ironically, Otoha experiences very realistic and relatable developments and problems once she begins working at the strange and mysterious “Night Library.” Even though the library does weird things, like intentionally setting high entrance fees and strange operating hours (4pm to midnight) in an effort to keep casual readers away, and despite the mysteries surrounding Otoha’s employer who finances the library’s profit gaps out of their own pocket, the most compelling element of the novel is how easily a reader can relate to Otoha’s work life. Otoha is concerned about the optics of her taking breaks before her elderly coworkers and wonders if she called the Night Library “our place” too early on in her career there.

Outside of these general worries, Harada harnesses workplace training in the book. This may sound boring, but patient readers will experience something unique. As Otoha’s coworkers, Masako and Ako, teach her how to stamp and file books, they reveal how the library operates --- it only contains the book collections of late authors --- and drop under-the-surface details like mentioning the effect of e-books on the library, signifying a modern setting subtly without telling the reader. The relatable workplace atmosphere is at the heart of the book’s realistic feel, since the narrative comes across like an intriguing journal of a strange library job, not a story that is building toward some kind of resolution.

The majority of DINNER AT THE NIGHT LIBRARY is in the third person and focuses on Otoha, but Harada has a unique method of transitioning her narration style. There is no symbol, page break or new chapter to tell the reader that a supporting character’s internal dialogue is about to take the starring role. Harada just begins dropping “I” statements, and we are made aware that Otoha’s thoughts from a short distance are no longer the novel’s tour guide. Keen readers will notice details that Harada weaves about the supporting characters within the main third-person narration, which are brazenly unexplained.

Soon after one of these intentionally undeveloped details, the third-person perspective shifts to a supporting character’s first-person point of view. These passages are short, quickly returning to Otoha’s third-person narration within the same chapter, or “episode.” But they effectively shed light on some of the behavior Otoha noticed from her coworkers. Harada also ensures that these passages from the minds of her supporting characters do not serve solely as flashbacks. While they’re mostly past-centered, Harada makes it clear how their past affects Otoha and the library’s present.

While DINNER AT THE NIGHT LIBRARY feels like a journal of the random events Otoha experienced in the first few months at the Night Library, there are some “big” occurrences that serve as story-like organization amidst Harada’s simulated chaos. An accomplished but abrasive author named Junichiro Tamura comes to the Night Library and demands to see his late rival’s book collection. Tadasuke Shirakawa’s books are in the library’s warehouse, and they have not been sorted or inventoried. But Tamura’s hostility, literary prestige and promises of donations convince Otoha’s manager, Yuzuru Sasai, to make a hefty exception.

The ordeal showcases how the Night Library’s workforce is a team of individuals who respect one another’s roles, but it’s impossible not to notice the sexism. The team gameplans to have a man bear the brunt of Tamura’s wrath, since they’ve learned customers tend to be more belligerent with a female clerk. However, Masako, an older woman and veteran librarian, manages to calm him down thanks to her years of working with people and books. Interestingly, Harada chooses to ignore any narrative discourse about the sexism in the Night Library until the following “big” event for Otoha, where the sister of a famous but mysterious writer asks Otoha if it irks her that her gender decides some of her duties.

Though the ending and resolution are a tad rushed, DINNER AT THE NIGHT LIBRARY manages to create a strong, realistic feel while also appealing to those who want to escape their own lives. They will enjoy the similarities they share with the workplace of the Night Library, as well as the unique details of the library that make it a one-of-a-kind place to work.