Convenience Store Woman: A Novel

"Plenty of contemporary writers tend towards concision, too. I’m a big fan of the Japanese writer Sayaka Murata’s fiction, and you can find me fangirling over her latest, rather shocking, novel, Earthlings , in my selection of the most notable novels of fall 2020 . But if you’ve never read any of her work, I’d probably suggest you start with her breakout hit Convenience Store Woman, which explores many of the same themes (asexuality, nonconformity, relationships of convenience) in a less confronting context. It’s about a female shop worker who takes refuge in the scripted and impersonal nature of her job, and faces increasing pressure from her friends and family to marry and pursue a more challenging career. (Murata herself famously worked for years in a Tokyo convenience store .) I also enjoyed – if that’s the right word – Han Kang’s The Vegetarian , which won the International Booker Prize in 2016. It’s a chilling allegorical story about a placid Korean wife who, following a series of disturbing dreams, decides to give up meat, only to be punished by her husband and family for her act of passive rebellion with increasing brutality. My copy is slim enough to slip into a handbag, and although it’s not an easy read, exactly, its quiet aura of menace has a transfixing quality."

"I wanted to choose a novel that was both timely and accessible, something that speaks to contemporary readers, especially those who have grown up in a world in which we are increasingly alienated from one other. Convenience Store Woman says something about how we articulate subjectivity when social norms impose limitations on our individual identity. The novel also addresses how people relate to one another in a world that can be isolating and dehumanising, a world of automation and mass consumption. The novel can be read on two very different levels: critics have praised its humorous aspect, but it is also a deeply disturbing piece of dystopian fiction. ‘Darkly humorous’ is perhaps the best way to describe it. Sayaka Murata has written other works of fiction that have not yet been translated into English, and some of these are more overtly dystopian and are set in a futuristic or parallel world. For example, there are works that portray a world in which procreation is carried out exclusively through artificial means. Convenience Store Woman is a grim novel on many levels, but it also reveals a certain liberating aspect. The protagonist forges her identity in defiance of dominant social norms for women in Japan, by resisting marriage and child bearing. She effectively refuses to become a full-fledged member of society. Not only does she remain single and childless, she spends eighteen years working as a part-time clerk in a convenience store. Convenience stores in Japan are an institution unto themselves, really. They are arguably part of the fabric of everyday life in Japan, designed to fulfil the needs and demands of busy people in the modern world. It is difficult to explain to someone who has not experienced a konbini first-hand the meanings associated with these stores, as they offer a greater range of products and services than their western counterparts. In my lectures I usually try to convey this by providing an example of one of my experiences with a konbini, where in a single visit I was able to pay all of my utility bills, send a fax, and purchase opera tickets, milk, and a seasonal bentō (Japanese lunch box). There is something pleasantly predictable about Japanese convenience stores, which is not to say that they are static entities; in fact, they change according to the season, and even the time of day, with different offerings, products, and promotions. If you walk into a convenience store anywhere in Japan, you will find a certain array of goods and services available, in most cases 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It is in many ways a safe space where you can momentarily take respite from the frantic pace of everyday life. Inside, everything is clean, tidy, and perfectly arranged, and the clerks are unfailingly polite and helpful. Many people who have visited Japan cite convenience stores as one of the best things about the country. Yes, in the novel the consumer-facing konbini also harbours a dystopian side, as a dehumanising capitalist institution where employees are expendable and replaceable. Convenience store workers are frequently students, ‘freeters’, or people in between jobs. Clerking at a convenience store is not usually considered a form of long-term employment, so when the protagonist of Convenience Store Woman occupies this job on a part-time basis for eighteen years, this is considered most peculiar. Her behaviour is very much contrary to the norm in Japanese society, and the novel functions as a commentary on the sense of precarity Japanese youth today are experiencing in the current economic climate and employment market. Murata’s novel also provides insight into how people relate not just to each other, but also to physical spaces like convenience stores. In Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity , French anthropologist Marc Augé coined the term ‘non-places’ to describe certain spaces in what he refers to as ‘supermodernity’. He argues that these ‘non-places’ are spaces you are meant to traffic through without leaving imprints of yourself behind; they are anonymous, transitory, and temporary. He offers airports and hotel rooms as key examples, and to this I would add the Japanese konbini . In fact, one of the most intriguing aspects of Convenience Store Woman is that the protagonist occupies this ‘non-place’ for far too long. In doing so, she becomes the very embodiment of the uncanny."