Being the Light for Another: On Mieko Kawakami’s “All the Lovers In the Night”
Mieko Kawakami | All the Lovers In the Night | Europa Editions | 2022 | 224 Pages
All the Lovers In the Night, Mieko Kawakami’s third novel, draws on similar themes to her previous works. Breasts and Eggs and Heaven, both of which have also been translated into English, were published to international acclaim. Her full-length work “enlivens, through a literature of philosophical ethics, the complexities inherent in the often-invisible societal dilemmas of modern culture,” according to an interview with BOMB. Kawakami’s protagonists challenge rigid social mores and trace the effects of the issues these beliefs create.
In her most recent novel, the reader follows the life of Fuyuko Irie, a proofreader in Tokyo. Fuyuko is a person who moves through life motionlessly, without making many active decisions or generating opinions about things that happen to her. She went to an average high school and a university that was recommended to her, took the first job that accepted her after graduation, and stayed there into her thirties. In Kawakami’s style, she is a single, childless woman who is berated by other women for these choices. Indeed, a coworker at the small publishing house where Fuyuko works as the novel opens is described as quite aggressive towards her, constantly “sighing at length” and reminding her of “how much effort it kept to keep her life afloat, and how easy things were for people like.” The single choice that Fuyuko makes consistently at the novel’s opening is to follow a self-made tradition of taking a walk at night on her birthday. It is this contradiction of framing the protagonist as someone who does not make decisions, and subsequently describing this character’s decision-making processes where Kawakami reveals a unique positionality on agency. It is precisely this friction between Fuyuko’s characterization and her actions where Kawakami imparts the critique that remaining single and childless is a distinct and valid choice, just as more quotidien acts, such as taking a walk through the city at night.
In time, Fuyuko is offered the option to go freelance. The woman who recommends her for the position notes a minute raise to an already pitiful salary typical of the publishing industry. Fuyuko accepts the position, delighted at the prospect of avoiding coworkers and the politics of an office. It is precisely this choice that begins Fuyuko’s journey in the novel. She begins working from home under Hijiri, a woman who is her foil in every way. Hijiri drinks, shops excessively, frequently dates, travels, and takes great pleasure in unloading her opinions on Fuyuko, ever the great listener. Hijiri takes an interest in Fuyuko, taking her out and calling her frequently, but often berating her for her lifestyle. Kawakami’s portrayal of internalized misogyny is persistent throughout her work, frequently utilizing female characters in her novels to emphasize that we police each other as well.
After turning in a manuscript one afternoon, Fuyuko takes an aimless walk through an unfamiliar part of Tokyo. She is overwhelmed by the sheer number of people, the intricacies of the city, and the volume of leaflets she is handed. Fuyuko glances in a storefront window and notices her gaunt reflection. She comes to the conclusion that she is “not sad, or tired, but the dictionary definition of a miserable person,” comparing herself to Hijiri and other women she has known. The publisher’s summary indicates that this is a moment where Fuyuko makes “overdue change” in her life, but Fuyuko’s revelatory changes manifest in heavy drinking, causing her to fall asleep in public and make rash decisions. She chooses to keep this to herself as much as possible, not telling Hijiri, the only person she contacts.
Fuyuko drunkenly and unsuccessfully explores the option of taking a course at a nearby culture center, where she meets Mitsutsuka, an older man, after nearly vomiting on him. Mitsutsuka is kind to her, offering to loan her money and help her file a police report for her stolen bag after she passed out next to it. He tells her that he is a high school physics teacher interested in the concept of light. The pair begin meeting at a cafe and discussing light at length. He loans her a book about light and a CD of lullabies. After informing her that the Chopin is his favorite, she plays it endlessly, à la Murakami. Mitsutsuka is described as having luminous qualities, and his white shirt often “glows” as they leave the cafe at night. Mitsutsuka slowly becomes a figurative light in Fuyuko’s life in which they “glowed with the same color,” or took on a necessary role in the other’s life.
After admitting to herself that she has feelings for Mitsutsuka, she falls into a deep depression. The reader is subjected to a vivid teenage rape scene, and it is revealed that Fuyuko associates romantic feelings with this memory and its perpetrator’s subsequent rejection of her. She begins to take less work and completely turns off her phone, remaining in bed for most of her days. In an earlier interview about Heaven, Kawakami said, “If I can portray a moment with full intensity, whatever the subject may be, the reader will come face to face with the strong light that is born in that moment, as well as its dark shadow.” Fuyuko finds light in healing from this memory, which she does, albeit slowly, despite the darkness, the “thickness of the night, an inky substance that filled the space between that which moved and that which did not.”
Gradually, her feelings for Mitsutsuka grow stronger. Fuyuko begins having sexual dreams about him and turns on her phone in order to call him. She throws out all of her clothes, replacing them with luxury hand-me-downs from Hijiri, and arranges for a birthday dinner for Mitsutsuka and herself.
During the date, they awkwardly laugh at each other’s jokes and eat unique foods, including a soil soup. The dark, depthless soup represents what Fuyuko is receiving from the relationship, as she is quite literally served something that does not nourish her. The soup signifies that their ties are equally as empty and lacking in substance. The novel comes to a climax after the date when the pair walks to the nearby station to part. Fuyuko tearfully proclaims her love for Mitsutsuka. She attempts to catch a glimpse of his face: “Something had come over Mitsutsuka’s face, shifting under the streetlights and the darkness of the leaves, preventing it from coming into view.” The novel does not detail his response other than a nod, but the light that pervades their parting throughout the novel is notably absent. The darkness that encompasses his figure in this scene serves as foreshadowing of what is to come.
The epilogue is reminiscent of themes in Breasts and Eggs. In the end, Fuyuko remains single and finds out that Mitsutsuka had been lying to her about his profession via a letter. Hijiri becomes pregnant, but wants nothing to do with the father and chooses to raise the child on her own. The tone of this section indicates that each woman’s choices are finally respected by the other.
In All the Lovers In the Night, Kawakami reiterates that women can lead a fulfilling life and make fulfilling choices absent of a romantic partner. Fuyuko embarks on a path of healing through drinking and searching for light within others, but finds wholeness and healing in solitude. And while Mitsutsuka provided light in Fuyuko’s solitary life, it was ultimately false. The epilogue indicates that both women felt most righteous in their independence, and that “the night had so many different lights” for each of them. Light is not found in others, but in our own self-fulfillment.