Yamata Eisuke's Blog
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MyThoughtsOn... Literature: The Inexplicable Rise of Love and Coffee
In the final week of November 2018, a new light novel was published to huge critical acclaim. Amongst the string of four and five star reviews of the book, one in particular stood out to me, printed in the media column of the Asahi Shimbun; they described the writing as having an "exhilarating, effervescent beauty", on top of a pile of other hyperboles, and that it was "quite possibly one of the best novels, let alone light novels, that I have read in a great many years". The writer also said that they'd be "very surprised if it didn't absolutely thrill others in the same way it has to me".
Why did this review catch my eye more than any other? Because, just a couple of paragraphs down in that copy of Asahi Shimbun, squeezed just above a reminder of an analysis of the Japan soccer team's latest game in the sport section, there is another review of a light novel that was published in the very same week.
The first, which garnered such praise, was Lo:Dreams: a gritty dystopic mystery series that was cancelled after its third volume due to lack of sales (although the highly positive reviews continued throughout its run). The second was Love and Coffee: an unusual little romantic comedy series published by Shogakukan.
Coincidentally, its review can barely even be described as that- it reads much more like a vague plot summary. I'd go as far to saying that the writer of this summary, very probably, hadn't even read it.
This is a theme that was continued throughout my search for the initial reviews of Love and Coffee. The overwhelming majority of them, not that there are many in the first place, are brief, and the ones that do go in depth are either negative or mixed. Several of these openly mock the debut volume.
Some of my favourite comments are as follows: "Hikigaya Hachiman has created a series as bland and lukewarm as, rather appropriately, a poorly made cup of coffee", and "Love and Coffee insists on portraying mundanity with a host of self referential jokes and faux-poetic descriptions. This is not a problem in itself- the problem arises when the jokes fail to land, and the descriptions feel even more mundane than their subject matter".
The popular fan run book review website, Light Novels and Us, gave it a noticeably more positive review, although this only extended to three stars out of five. It is clear that they weren't entirely sure what to make of it. They write, "Hikigaya Hachiman's first attempt at a light novel shows promise for the future, and introduces a host of intriguing characters, but all too often leaves you wondering what the point of it all is. Is it a comedy? Is it a romance? Is it a social commentary? In all respects, Love and Coffee is too unfocused in its execution to be any of them".
Bafflingly, these are all questions that remain relevant to Love and Coffee today, even after five years, five volumes, and the sale of millions upon millions of copies. Hikigaya Hachiman's "lukewarm" and "mundane" series has since become a pop culture sensation, and is unique in taking both the Japanese and the Western market by storm- last year, Love and Coffee: Volume Four peaked at number two on the New York Times bestseller list and number three on the Waterstones most sold list, which is an astonishing feat for a light novel.
Teenagers and adults alike have picked up these books and been entranced by Etsuji, Mei, Kagami and Akane. This is made all the more astonishing when you consider that Love and Coffee is essentially a sleeper hit; Shogakukan put no money into marketing the first book (mostly because there's very little to market), and the reclusive author continually refuses to give out any interviews or comments on his creation. Instead, it rose to prominence through strong word of mouth and a devout cult following; Volume One only really began to sell in the second month of its release.
I remember very clearly, as I'm sure a lot of others will too, the first time Love and Coffee was suggested to me. Funnily enough, I was in a cafe in Tokyo, awaiting the arrival of an old work colleague who I'd agreed to meet up and liaise with, when I saw that the woman on the table next to me was deeply immersed in yet another copy of Love and Coffee: Volume 3. At this point, I had of course heard the name of the franchise, but still knew very little about the series itself. When she started to openly laugh at one of the jokes, I was hit by a lightning bolt of realisation- it told me that I was very probably missing out by not reading these books, and so promptly asked the woman what the series was about on a whim.
Her exact words, the enthusiasm with which she articulated them, and the twinkle in her eyes bring a smile to my face even today. "To be honest, it's about something different to everyone who reads it... but mostly, it's about this edgy teen called Etsuji in a cafe." Excuse me, random woman in a cafe, if I paraphrased this slightly.
Nonetheless, I was baffled by her explanation. A light novel almost exclusively set in one place, with a bare bones cast of four? It wasn't that I thought this unappealing, only that I thought it lacking in popular appeal. Clearly, it doesn't have the fan service and escapism of most bestselling sagas. So, I quickly dropped by the nearest bookstore on my way back home (my friend, while we're on the subject, had also read them) and purchased all three at-the-time existing volumes.
I began reading as soon I got back, a little dubious and a little excited. Many hours feverish reading later and I'd finished them, having laughed and winced and ached, but those feelings still remained.
Quite frankly, I've never read anything quite like Love and Coffee in the light novel format. It's unmistakably aimed at teenagers, and the jokes require some prior knowledge of the genre to be funny, but Hikigaya Sensei (as some of his fans call him) writes an image of adolescence, and of its strange unbridled longing, with such pinpoint accuracy that it becomes almost painful to read. There are several Etsuji-isms that I suddenly notice cropping up in conversation with people that I'd never once expect to reference them.
Much has been made of Love and Coffee's realism before, but not enough as far as I'm concerned. The characters have a raw bitterness to them; a cynical dissatisfaction with life that, no matter how much they try to hide it, is always so clear as to be brutally relatable. But, even when all four of them are irritating and childish, or overbearing and precocious, they retain this endearing sense of being unbearably delicate, like all real teenagers are. All four have personalities and ideals that come under threat one way or another throughout the series, and its thrilling to see their reactions to this.
The dilemmas that drive the volumes may seem small when compared to something like Sword Art Online, but are somehow all the more thrilling because of its pulled back, realistic scale. Primarily, Love and Coffee is a story about growing up, and the characters are bound to be its most long-lasting triumph. No wonder there are so few existing interviews with Hikigaya Hachiman- he must be a real sour egg to have come up with Nagatomo Etsuji!
But, despite its universal accessibility, what surprised me most of all about these books is that, for a light novel, the writing can be surprisingly un-light. Occasionally, Hikigaya Hachiman brings out an insight or a metaphor that wouldn't seem amiss in something much more literary, without once seeming pretentious or indulgent.
For instance, there is a passage in Volume 5 that I will not quote in full, but is without a doubt worth a second read. It is also one of the series strangest and most revealing moments- if you type "L and C dream scene vol 5" into a search engine, you'll find that numerous pages on Reddit and fan websites are devoted to discussion of it. Nagatomo Etsuji remains the one character that the author has not yet explored the family life or backstory of, thus making him one of the stories' biggest mysteries. Odd, considering it occurs entirely from his first person perspective.
In it, he is awaiting the arrival of all three of his love interests (although they've all met, this is the first time that they've agreed to meet at the same time due to several overaching plot points). The three girls are relatively cold to each other, usually because of their individual connections to Etsuji, and so he is feeling tired, awkward and apprehensive. Just before they arrive, he suddenly finds himself falling asleep, and what follows is a dream sequence with content so adult that it surprises me Shogakukan allowed it through.
Etsuji dreams that the cafe is deserted and dimly light, and he is alone inside it save for Mei, Akane and Kagami, except that that all three of the characters are stark naked, and essentially fawning over him on the sofa. I was staggered by what I was reading- his descriptions are not exactly implicit, though never quite bordering on erotic, and one article on the scene I found suggested they may even have been toned down.
Then, the three girls stretch out their arms and begin to touch their fingers together, only for the fingers to carry on straight through. They quite literally reach inside each other, without mention of blood or gore, until they are so contorted and blurred that Etsuji eventually sees them as one, single entity. This new girl, a surreal amalgamation of all three, is not described, save for one simple adjective. Etusji calls her "beautiful".
One post on the 28 Sins website pointed out observantly that this was the first time Etsuji uses the word in connection to Mei, Akane and Kagami in the entire series. I sincerely suggest you go and read more on this scene and the novels in general, as it has inspired some fascinating fan theories, lending me new perspectives that I could never have dreamed would be relevant.
The scene eventually ends with a joke, completely contrasting the nightmarish imagery- he awakes to find the three girls, this time in reality, kneeling over him and giggling, for while dreaming he has spilled his coffee all over his lap. But, it is moments such as these, and Hikigaya Hachiman's fearless insistence that they should appear in a mainstream light novel series at all, that it continues to captivate and inspire its still growing audience. My only gripe with the progression of the series so far is the very speed of its progression: why can Hikigaya Hachiman not write Volume 6 faster?!
Although you probably don't need to be told just how far the Love and Coffee series has reached out to people, I thought it would be nice to end with another personal experience I had with the series. My wife of seven years absolutely detests all things light novel and anime related, in spite of frequent attempts from myself to show her the, in fairness, oft challenging to see merits of them. She insists that they are all surface level, sexist rubbish- I can't include the four letter word she actually uses- but after finishing Love and Coffee, I saw an excellent opportunity to needle her on the matter further.
After several weeks of this continuous needling, I finally managed to get my point across, and she sat down with a great many sighs of admonishment to read, and in her eyes to be disappointed, by the latest light novel to send Japan into a frenzy.
Let's just say that, after I woke up in the morning, Love and Coffee had yet another fan to add to its swelling army. A reluctant and pouty one, but a fan all the same.
