Emi Yagi

When the Museum is Closed is quietly uncanny in a way that never fully resolves, creating a sense of distance that feels intentional rather than accidental. I found myself more observing than emotionally immersed, though I still genuinely enjoyed the experience and the subtle strangeness it sustains throughout.

That said, I’m also aware I’m currently not in the most connected headspace, and I suspect that shaped how I engaged with the book—this feels like something I may want to revisit show more at a different time, when I can bring a bit more of myself to it.

A thoughtful, unusual read that doesn’t quite settle, but lingers. show less

A wonderfully written mix of social commentary, magic realism, and loneliness. There are so many witty, subtle twists and turns that the whole book keeps the reader on their toes without veering into straight-on suspense. Definitely the best book about a fake pregnancy I've ever read.

Weird one....I was on board for parts of it, but couldn't tell if the author believed her own narrator. In order to get out of the tedious jobs assigned to her at work because she is a woman (clean the coffee mugs and pot, make the coffee, clean up the meeting room) Shibata announces she is pregnant -which she is not - but it works like a charm. No more grunt work, no more late nights at the office, no more standing on the train. The story is translated from Japanese, so it felt like there show more were some things that didn't cross over well, but what did seem to be universal was how once you are pregnant, you become everyone's 'property' and they ask nosy questions and intrude on personal space and offer unsolicited advice. The tricky thing her for Shibata is that she is single too - so that adds a whole other level of lies and pretenses to keep up. But there is some weird will-power mind game going on, because she does gain weight in the pregnancy bump model. And soon she befriends some other moms-to-be, and goes on maternity leave, continuing to compound her lie. There is no comeuppance at the end, so I don't know if she now believes it herself, even though there is physically no baby. A little weird and confusing, but definitely something to think about. show less

Frustrated by a dead-end office job and casually sexist co-workers, Shibata decides on the spur of the moment to fake a pregnancy. She takes advantage of the benefits offered by her company to pregnant people—earlier finishing times, fitness class discounts and so on—to change her life and eventually her relationship to herself.

Emi Yagi's Diary of a Void is marketed as a "thrillingly subversive" take on modern Japanese society, but honestly that's not the vibe I got from this book. I'm show more aware that I'm lacking the cultural context I might need to fully understand the novel's impact, and I have a sneaking suspicion that this may be a more slyly funny book on a prose level in the original Japanese. But in the 2020s, does "men don't do their fair share of housework" really count as a surprising new insight? Is pointing out that the guy in the office who's mocked as a bit of a dweeb by others may just be the kindest one of all of them "thrillingly subversive"?

Neither sharp enough nor weird enough to be really engaging, and prose that (at least in translation) reads flat. show less