REVIEW #9: TALES FROM THE CAFE

Tales From the Cafe
By Toshikazu Kawaguchi
Picador, 2020

Unfortunately, I have not been able to track down Before the Coffee Gets Cold which introduces the characters in the café setting, Funiculi Funiculá. (I loved the choice of name, alluding to the old eponymous Neapolitan song which celebrates lovers escaping together to heaven and then returning.) In the case of Kawaguchi’s novella, many of the patrons of the café who chose to return to the past were motivated by a strong relationship, usually that of a husband and wife, or lover. Unknowingly, I started with the sequel, since it misleadingly had Before the Coffee Gets Cold and Tales From the Café on the front, leaving me quite confused, as to which book I’d actually purchased. (The retailer was just as confused and said they had been unable to source another book by Kawaguchi and had concluded there was only one!) Not an auspicious start!

WHIMSICAL FRONT COVER OF KAWAGUCHI’S NOVELLA

When I began reading, I found two things highly irritating. The first was the way the author slowed everything down to a shuffle. That, in itself, was enough to make me want to leave the present and escape to the past! The second was the author’s insistence on telling the reader what to think. Am I a child? Add to that, the whole ridiculous idea of being able to travel back to the past and the tedious repetition of the rules involved in that process were so grating. I seemed destined to dump the whole enterprise before the end of the second chapter. However, I gave myself a stern lecture about opening up to a different style of writing, suspended my extremely cynical disbelief, and ploughed (make that plodded) on, hoping for a positive outcome, despite my initial impression that I had better things to do with my time. Let’s face it, I reasoned, a book this size is only a small investment in time, so bite the bullet and just get it over with. Not exactly a promising start.

Perhaps Kawaguchi has a penchant for the slow movement which began as a protest against a MacDonalds − with its crass concept of fast food − invading the sacred food spaces of Rome. As an author, he unilaterally decided his readers needed to slow down, lower their blood pressure and take a quiet journey of introspection that would lead them back into their own past. What I loved about the book was that it succeeded in slowing me down. In making me think about the fact that I can change nothing about the past except the way I think about it and allow it to affect my life in the present. We all have regrets. Kawaguchi teaches us not to hold onto them. He teaches us that life goes on; we must go on truly living, with joy, not with regret. We don’t have to punish ourselves for our past mistakes, or spend the rest of our lives mourning the loss of those we love. We owe it to them to find a new happiness. What better way to honour them than to lead a meaningful and happy life. Everybody deserves to be happy. What a great message. (The transformation of our lives through the love and forgiveness of God in the life, death and resurrection of Christ pips it, but it’s still a healing message in a broken world.)

Kawaguchi’s tales from the lives of the café’s patrons are not trite. Their relationships are complex and the circumstances leading to their estrangement, or loss, are complicated and representative of everyone’s relational complexities. In this case, the author has cleverly woven the lives of his characters together, reminding us of the importance of community, of opening up to each other and standing in the gap when others have gone, leaving a huge hole in our lives and an ache in our hearts. (Love your neighbour as yourself! The similarity with the Christian message is uncanny.) Yes, this novella is different but, despite my initial misgivings, I will hop on the Funicular again and take another slow ride to the top and back with this empathetic and imaginative man. I enjoyed slowing down. I intend to do more of it!