Het gele huis

by Mieko Kawakami, Maarten Liebregts (Translator)

Het is 1998, en in Japan is de economie tot stilstand gekomen. De zeventienjarige Hana is vastberaden zichzelf een betere toekomst te geven dan haar moeder, en een fatsoenlijk inkomen verdienen wordt het grootste doel in haar leven. Het personeel van de bar waar ze werkt – Kimiko, Ran, en Momoko – vormt haar nieuwe familie. Overleven is echter zwaar en er verschijnen steeds meer scheuren in Hana’s perfecte plaatje. Om haar hoofd boven water en haar familie bijeen te houden, belandt Hana op een steeds duisterder en gevaarlijker pad, waarvan geen weg terug lijkt te zijn.

In Het gele huis onderzoekt Mieko Kawakami met haar kenmerkende scherpe blik de menselijke waardigheid, vrouwelijke verbondenheid, en de illusie van vrije wil.

Genres: Fiction, Japan, Japanese Literature, Literary Fiction, Contemporary, Asia, Asian Literature

528 pages, Paperback

First published February 20, 2023

About the author

Mieko Kawakami (川上未映子, born in August 29, 1976) is a Japanese singer and writer from Osaka.

She was awarded the 138th Akutagawa Prize for promising new writers of serious fiction (2007) for her novel Chichi to Ran (乳と卵) (Breasts and Eggs).

Kawakami has released three albums and three singles as a singer.

Reviews

[emma · Rating 4 out of 5]

thank god for translators.

(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)

[sunkissedmiranda]

David Boyd, I need you to translate faster, I need to read this book IMMEDIATELY.

07/17/2025 UPDATE: IT'S COMING OUT MARCH 31, 2026 BABY CAN'T WAIT TO GET WRECKED BY MIEKO ONCE AGAIN 🎉🎉🎉

[s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all]]

We FINALLY have a translation date! March 2026 cannot come soon enough!! 💛
—————
AHHHHHHHHH I CANT WAIT I NEED THIS NOW. I am going to be insufferable when this comes out (more than usual, you've been warned).

[Mai H. · Rating 2 out of 5]

Japanuary 2026 #4

I very vaguely remember reading BREASTS AND EGGS. I remember thinking it was okay. And while I nearly loved the beginning of this novel, it sort of petered out at the end.

Hana is horribly naïve, falling under Kimiko's spell. To be fair, her own mother is often absent, spending time with her rotating set of boyfriends. I do not slut shame. I do absent parent shame.

While Kimiko ends up being a small fry in the scheme of things, within her group, Hana is introduced to Yeongsu, and from there the trouble starts. There is an entire scheme based on stolen ATM cards. I'm not even sure Hana realizes what she is doing is wrong at the time. Her so-called friends steal from one another. The girl needs help and guidance. She gets neither.

rep: Japanese, Zainichi Korean

tw: absent parent, classism, fraud, gambling, hostess bars, MLM, murder, racism, yakuza

📱 Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf

[Maxwell]

I’ve always enjoyed Mieko Kawakami’s stories and how she beautifully captures the lives of outsiders, those on the margins of society. She crafts her characters with so much compassion and realism, they seem to walk right off the page.

Her latest novel to be translated into English (excellently done by Laurel Taylor and Hitomi Yoshio) is no exception to this. Our narrator, Hana, is a woman in her early 40s who one day discovers a news article online about a woman she knew when she was a teenager, a friend of her mother, who eventually took Hana in and cared for her during a rough period of her life.

Hana worked with Kimiko at a bar called Lemon that showed Hana what it was to have a family, a community, and a stable work environment–something that provided both financial and emotional support to her. But eventually, their work and lifestyle leads them down questionable paths and eventually forces them to separate. This is where Hana is at the start of the novel, and the rest of the book is her recounting these pivotal years with Kimiko, as well as Ran and Momoko, the two other young women.

I will admit the first 100 pages of this book, though good, were quite slow and made me wonder if this book would be as ‘exciting’ and ‘thrilling’ as it had been pitched to me. Typically Kawakami writes in a very introspective, character and theme-focused way; and that’s just as true here, even if there is more of a central plot that moves the story along compared to her other books. This is by no means a traditional crime or genre novel, but it does have elements of these stories woven into her more literary style. After I got over the hump of the first 100 pages, however, I was hooked and couldn’t put this book down. I found Hana to be such a fascinating character, someone I was rooting for and fully invested in, even when she began to make poor decisions. She felt like a real, flawed person shaped by her unconventional and less than ideal upbringing.

Money is a big topic of it, the acquisition of it, saving it, using it to propel yourself forward, to make a better life. How money doesn’t just get you stuff, but it buys you time and gives you security and comfort that allows you to have a peace of mind you simply can’t have when you’re in survival mode. So much of what these women do is driven by their need for money, not out of selfishness or greed but out of a desire to be safe, especially in a world run by powerful men who can upend your life in the blink of an eye.

As always, Kawakami writes about places and food so well, I felt like I was back in Japan at many points while reading this. I also love how she can bring you into the mental space of a character and make you feel how they are feeling, while writing about it in a beautiful and artful way. Her prose is both functional, telling a good story with clear, coherent writing, but with layers and depth to it that lend the characters a lot of weight. She also is a really great dialogue writer, which I think can be often overlooked.

Thanks to the publisher for an early review copy of this book! I meant to finish and review it before it came out on March 17, but I’m a few days late. Forgive me, but hopefully you will go out and read this one and enjoy at my recommendation!

[✰ Charlotte ✰ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good God. What an intense book. Devoured the last 300 pages in a day and I'm still sobbing while typing this down on Goodreads😢. It's so different to her previous works yet so similar. 銀座。三軒茶屋。二十代と四十代の女性。夏。金に困る。母子家庭。無性愛の主人公。キャバ嬢。水商売。絶望。(Ginza. Sangenjaya. Women in their 20s and 40s. Summer. Financially trapped. Single parents. An asexual protagonist. Hostess. "The nightlife industry."-google it. Despair.)

Kawakami mentioned Dostoevsky in one of her interviews right after the publication of this book, and the story is so so reminiscent of Crime and Punishment. (I really need to read The Brothers Karamazov.) The English version will come out in 2025 I believe. I’m sure it’s going to be a sensation.

[Yahaira · Rating 2 out of 5]

my disappointment is immeasurable
------------------

Thanks to the publisher for the arc

One of my most anticipated releases of this year (I have seriously been waiting for years) from one of my favorite authors; this one hurts. Was there a minimum word count? 



I’ll try to keep this short, which is advice I wish someone had given Kawakami: this just failed for me. When a 400+ page book is most interesting only in its first and last chapters, you know you’re in trouble- especially when the bulk of it is a single, massive flashback.

In 2020, 40 year old Hana reads a news report about a woman named Kimiko who is accused of blackmail and abduction. This triggers memories of Hana as a teenager in the 90’s, when Hana lived in a yellow house with a group of women; a time that eventually spiraled into a life of crime. The first chapter sets you up for a dark reckoning with her violent youth and the toxicity of her family, both found and biological, but it never quite comes to fruition. Or rather, we slowly get to something reminiscent of Kawakami’s style in the last chapter, how unreliable is Hana?, but only after trudging through circular and flat conversations that don’t offer any twists or surprises. Why did I have to read pages explaining the difference between debit and credit cards?! Why are people recounting conversations they weren’t even present for? 

I understand Kawakami is trying something new and she’s interested in exploring 90’s Japan, or the post bubble Lost Decade, but much of this feels like it’s so far back in the background that you have to squint to see it. We do see the girls grow desperate as they run out of money and job opportunities dry up, their situation is bleak (though a lot of it is their own doing), towards the end we start to question some character’s original motivations, and I understand that noirs are usually based around conversations but here they just create an incredibly slow pace. Aren’t noirs supposed to be pacey? Shouldn’t there be some sort of suspense built up? 

I come to Kawakami for her philosophical, internal character studies. She asks worthy questions here about the survival at the margins of Japanese society, specifically women in modern Japan, be it the 90's or the 2020’s. Unfortunately this is bogged down by a hefty page count and exhausting exposition. 

 

[Yuko Shimizu · Rating 4 out of 5]

I realized there aren’t many books realistically depicting lives of marginalized working poor women and girls in Japanese novels. I thought of OUT as I was reading this, there are similarities, marginalized female population usually hidden from the society, and their twisted friendships. But while OUT is a sensational horror, this feels a lot more real and stays real.
Japanese people tend to be very proud. They often create facades to make their lives seem as though they are all ordinarily content and perfectly middle class, they hide their suffering inside them in silence.
From the interviews and articles I have read about the author, she grew up poor, worked in hostess bars while still young so she can send her younger brother to college. That’s probably why the characters depicted here feel so real from the start to the end.

[melissabastaleggere · Rating 3 out of 5]

il finale mi ha ACCOLTELLATA ma non posso che definirmi un po’ delusa, mio malgrado
sicuramente non il suo romanzo migliore e non lo consiglierei affatto a chi si approccia a lei per la prima volta, da maneggiare con cautela anche per chi, come me, conosce Kawakami Mieko e la considera una divinità/la sua autrice preferita
troppo prolisso e descrittivo, la narrazione languisce tra dialoghi inutilmente lunghi e complessi con pagine e pagine di conversazioni semplicemente… noiose
sicuramente non manca di introspezione e attenzione alla psicologia dei personaggi femminili, ma poteva tranquillamente essere ridotto a 350 pagine (o meno)
parte con un incipit molto promettente ma poi si arena, riprendendosi (per fortuna!) su un finale ahimè velocizzato ma doloroso, in pieno stile Kawakami
prosaicamente il livello rimane alto ma qualcosa nella traduzione/editing just feels off… se sapete il giapponese soffrirete in alcuni momenti (“Uhm”)…
insommina, odio dirlo ma mi aspettavo di meglio

[Midori · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Sisters in Yellow” by Mieko Kawakami

This author is personally important to me not just because she is one of my favorite authors but also because her famous book “Breasts and Eggs” was my research subject.

So I was really looking forward to it and she never disappoints me! It was really good.

The novel is about a girl named Hana who grew up poor and how she starts to immerse herself in crimes.

Though not having committed a crime before, I felt Hana’s personality is quite similar to mine ——— she has such a strong sense of responsibility that she gradually loses awareness of what the real problem is and what she is doing it for. So I was scared to turn pages as I felt as if I WAS HERSELF.

I think just peeking the “dark world” in this novel is interesting enough to have yourself read it. You may feel scared because it’s so real, as it may actually be.

[Maarten Liebregts · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wederom een briljante Kawakami!

[Kate O'Shea · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sisters in Yellow begins at the end. Our protagonist, Hana, comes across the name of an old friend in the newspaper and it triggers flashbacks to her life two decades previously. Hana struggles to remember exactly what happened and seeks out the women who she lived with to assuage her guilty conscience.

The rest of the book is taken up with Hana's recall of her previous life when, as a teenager, she was forced to make her own way in life due to her mother's chaotic lifestyle. Hana along with the much older Kimiko runs Lemon, a bar, where she recruits Ran and Momoko, both disaffected young women.

Hana begins to know happiness and security but after tragedy strikes she finds herself being drawn deeper and deeper into the Japanese underworld when she discovers that none of her friends are quite who she thought they were.

Sisters in Yellow doesn’t have the brutal shocks of Heaven but it does give a harsh look at a young woman who has been abandoned by those who should be shielding her. Hana is a complex character who is driven to finding security in money but when one part of her world is lost the whole crumbles terrifyingly fast, leaving Hana unable to cope.

Although the book is a shocking look at what can happen to young women who fall out of the system, it feels a little slow in places. The description of Hana's disintegration is, however, startlingly good.

Definitely recommended for fans of Hiromi Kawakami, Murata or Ogawa.

Thankyou to Netgalley and Picador for the digital review copy.

[Laura Van Rijnsbergen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Je weet vanaf h1 dat er iets met Kimiko aan de hand is, ze heeft de meisjes gedwongen? Maar snel daarna springt het verhaal naar Hana als jong meisje en bouwt het heel langzaam op. De details zijn heel uitgebreid uitgewerkt zoals de betekenis van een droom of de betekenis van de kleur geel. En ook de personages worden goed uitgewerkt zoals hun kleding en hun ontmoetingen. Dat maakt het een heel interessant verhaal. En de hele tijd blijf je je maar verwonderen waar het nou misgaat met Kimiko, de slechte dingen sijpelen er allemaal zo langzaam doorheen dat je het amper doorhebt. Maar het is wel degelijk een triest boek. Uiteindelijk echt een goed portret van de Japanse onderwereld. Supergoed geschreven, je wil echt niet stoppen met lezen!

[ross · Rating 4 out of 5]

Leggerei anche la lista della spesa di Mieko Kawakami, quindi il mio giudizio è inevitabilmente biased. Considerando che questo romanzo era la mia uscita più attesa del 2026, e che aspettavo da più di tre anni di leggere qualcosa di nuovo di quest'autrice, mi sono letteralmente fiondata in "Le sorelle in giallo".

C'è da dire che non ho ritrovato in questo romanzo quello che ho provato nei tre lavori che ho letto precedentemente dell'autrice, ovvero un profondo senso di appartenenza e una connessione profonda con i suoi protagonisti: sia in Seni e uova, che in Heaven che in Gli amanti della notte mi è capitato di sentirmi vista, come se Kawakami avesse sbirciato nella mia testa e scritto personaggi esattamente calzati sulle mie esperienze di vita. Questo non è accaduto per "Le sorelle in giallo". La storia di queste donne è qualcosa di molto lontano dalla mia vita, però ecco che si mostra ancora una volta il talento dell'autrice di entrare fin dentro le esistenze degli ultimi, dei "reietti", dei dimenticati. Hana, Kimiko e tutte le protagoniste di quest'opera vengono ripetutamente vessate dal destino, cercano di sopravvivere in un mondo brutale, e questa non è una lotta in cui tutte ne escono indenni.
Il destino può essere molto crudele, ma ricominciare a vivere è possibile, anche se può essere davvero difficile.

[Ulla Scharfenberg · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ich bin großer Kawakami Fan und habe mich riesig auf den neuen, bislang längsten Roman gefreut. Leider kommt "Das Gelbe Haus" meiner Meinung nach nicht an seine Vorgänger heran. Das ist vielleicht Geschmackssache, vielleicht das Genre, vermutlich auch die Übersetzung (sorry, Katja Busson, aber was war das?), aber alles in allem fand ich die Geschichte um Hana höchstens mittelmäßig.

Ende der 1990er Jahre in Tokyo: Hana ist 15, unendlich einsam und wird von ihrer alleinerziehenden Mutter vernachlässigt. Eines Tages tritt Kimiko in ihr Leben, eine ~20 Jahre ältere Frau, die sich um Hana kümmert und ihr das Gefühl von Geborgenheit gibt, dass sie immer vermisst hat. Hana schmeißt die Schule, fängt an zu trinken und ist besessen von Geld. Immer tiefer rutscht sie rein in ein Leben am Rand der Gesellschaft und lässt schnell die legalen Möglichkeiten Geld zu verdienen hinter sich. Die neuen Menschen in ihrem Leben werden zu Gefährten, aber echte Nähe gibt es nicht. Hana ist nicht mehr allein, aber die Einsamkeit bleibt. Der Sog der japanischen Unterwelt zieht Hana immer weiter hinab.

Fehlende Nähe beschreibt auch mein Gefühl beim Lesen. Ich bin über 500 Seiten nicht richtig reingekommen in diesen Roman Noir. Die Geschichte hat einige Längen (das stört mich nicht grundsätzlich), aber vor allem hat mich die Sprache gar nicht abgeholt. Ein paar Beispiele: "Meine Herren, was haben wir gefuttert", "damit die liebe Seele Ruhe hat", "Mit ihren Eltern lag sie (...) im Clinch", "Schaumschläger", "meine Freundin, die ätzt mich an" - so redet doch kein Teenager (auch nicht vor 20 Jahren!). Die Dialoge klangen oft wie diese Satire Synchronisations-Videos von Helge Mark.

Ich habe viel positives gelesen zu "Das Gelbe Haus" und auch Lob für die Übersetzung. Insofern ist es vielleicht ein Me-Problem. Ich freue mich einfach auf den nächsten Roman von Mieko Kawakami.

[Buchdoktor · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hana Ito ist knapp 40, als sie zu Beginn der Pandemie 2020 eine Nachricht über die aktuell 60-jährige Kimiko Yoshikawa erreicht, die mit ihrer Mutter befreundet war und mit der sie vor rund 20 Jahren in ungewöhnlicher Wohngemeinschaft zusammenlebte. Hanas Mutter hatte im „Nachtgeschäft“ des Vergnügungsviertels gearbeitet, mehrmals ihren Namen gewechselt und war eines Tages wortlos verschwunden. Ebenso geheimnisvoll taucht Kimiko in der 4½- Matten-Wohnung auf, bleibt und kümmert sich um Hana, die noch nicht volljährig ist und als Tochter einer „Hostess“ geringgeschätzt wird. Hana wird nie das Glücksgefühl von damals vergessen, als sie entdeckt, dass Kimiko, bevor auch sie verschwindet, den Kühlschrank gefüllt hat – im Gegensatz zu Hanas Mutter.

Schließlich betreiben Hana und Kimiko gemeinsam die kleine Bar „Lemon“ mit der glückbringen gelben Farbe im Namen und ziehen mit der 18jährigen Ran und der Ginza-Hostess Kotomi in ein bescheidenes Häuschen. Da Hana noch nicht volljährig ist und ihre Mutter mit der Ausrede, sie könnte ihren Namensstempel nicht finden, alle Geschäfte bar abgewickelt hatte, könnte sie weder Arbeits-, Handy- noch Mietvertrag unterschreiben. Das fällt jedoch nicht auf, weil alle Geschäfte über Yeong-su laufen, der Bar und Haus vermittelt, die Miete kassiert und Hana ein Handy besorgt, das natürlich nicht auf ihren Namen registriert wird. Angesichts der Geldbündel, die hin und her gereicht werden und der fehlenden Quittungen, um Zahlungen zu belegen, könnte man als Leser:in auf dumme Gedanken kommen. Hana erlebt zwar, dass Armut bedeutet, kein Badezimmer zu haben und seine Ersparnisse im Schuhkarton aufzubewahren. Ihr ist jedoch lange nicht bewusst, dass Kinder wie sie zuhause Hilflosigkeit erlernen, indem sie nichts über Bankkonto, Krankenversicherung und Entscheidungen über das eigene Leben erfahren. So gerät sie in Yeong-sus Dunstkreis in eine weitere Abhängigkeit, aus der sie sich kaum allein befreien kann.

Fazit
Die aktuelle Nachricht über Kimiko Yoshikawa wühlt die Erinnerungen in der Gegenwart wieder auf, auch wenn Hana zunächst vorgibt, dass sie mit Kimiko längst nichts mehr zu tun hätte. In Rückblenden erzählt sie sehr ausführlich von ihrer Wahlfamilie, für die sie stets das Beste wollte, von der Glück versprechenden gelben Farbe, über Yeong-su, der als Koreaner verspottet wurde, und über Menschen, die Hanas Unwissenheit schamlos ausnutzten. Für ein Mädchen, das sich selbst versorgen musste und schon als Schülerin ständig in Restaurants arbeitete, erzählt sie erstaunlich poetisch, beinahe zu eloquent und mit Liebe zum Detail. Auch wenn sie mit 17 vieles noch nicht einordnen konnte, glänzt sie in ihren Erinnerungen als gute Beobachterin.

Eine sprachlich ansprechende, berührende Sozialstudie über Frauen, die an falsche Gönner geraten, immer arbeiten, aber auf keinen grünen Zweig kommen.

[Stacy (Gotham City Librarian) · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is the third book I’ve read by Mieko Kawakami. It was immediately interesting from page one, introducing a sort of mysterious incident involving the characters. The action then rewinds and you learn about the events leading up to current day.

I liked the characters, especially narrator Hana (*most of the time.) She’s young, and many frustrating and unfair things happen to her but she perseveres. There are definitely times when her choices are questionable, but I still found myself rooting for her. And her situation is frequently one in which she’s backed into a corner and has to take the least desirable way out.

I think my biggest complaint was this: long pages of dialogue. Endless, uninterrupted monologues. Every character has a detailed backstory and instead of revealing info to the reader organically, it is all told to you in huge chunks of dialogue instead. (Momoko was very funny sometimes, though. I loved the way she talked about herself and her family.) I also didn’t need 15-20 pages of conversation explaining to me how debit card scamming works. This actually happened a few times in the second half of the book. I know that the characters had questions about how things worked, but I didn’t necessarily want those lengthy explanations.

Kawakami also wrote a lot of introspective rambling within Hana’s mind, giving us her thought process throughout the story. A lot of the plot felt like telling rather than showing. It took a long time to get back around to the very interesting incident mentioned in the beginning of the story. When it eventually did come up, I had almost forgotten all about it. The last third of the book felt like it stretched on a bit too much.

It looks like I had the same problem re: endless pages of dialogue when I read “Breasts and Eggs,” but I did like that book and I liked this one as well. I think 3.5 stars is the rating I’m going with.

Hana’s obsession with the color yellow was interesting, and given her mix of good and bad luck, it could be argued that maybe there was something to the theory of yellow bringing good fortune. Then again…

I also thought Kawakami did a good job of portraying someone with racing thoughts and anxiety.

Thank you to Netgalley and to the Publisher for this ARC in exchange for an honest review! All opinions are my own.

Biggest TW: Self-harm, Domestic abuse, Depression

[vanny]

HURRYY UPPP WITH THAT TRANSLATING I NEED TO READ THIS BOOOOKKKK

[Rachel Louise Atkin · Rating 2 out of 5]

Thank god that’s over. I feel like I’ve been held hostage by this book. So different from all her other novels and so disappointing. The characters were completely flat and while parts of the story were intriguing the majority was quite dull and had no depth to the ideas. I’m really surprised because I loved her other novels so quite sad I didn’t like this one.

[suzannah ♡ · Rating 4 out of 5]

my love affair with kawakami’s writing continues!

[Zionist Lover Of Israel · Rating 3 out of 5]

A seventeen-year-old girl named Hana, equipped with a fatherless childhood, a mother who treats financial planning as an extreme sport, and a conviction that yellow brings good luck, follows a magnetic older woman named Kimiko into the Tokyo night and opens a bar called Lemon in a Sangenjaya walk-up.

The bar finds its regulars, the four walls find two more women (Ran, a beauty-school dropout fleeing a controlling boyfriend, and Momoko, a rich girl fleeing respectability), and for a while the place hums along on karaoke, cheap beer, feng shui, and the particular warmth that forms when people with nowhere else to go find each other in the same room. Then the bar burns down.

With the savings gone and the invoices multiplying, Hana discovers that the distance between survival and crime is roughly the width of a shoebox, and that Tokyo in a recession is extremely generous about helping you cross it.

A fraud operation, a vanishing woman, a pyramid scheme in scientifically patented shapewear, a yakuza boyfriend, and a mother who arrives with cancer in one hand and a two-million-yen debt in the other all take their turns at the till.

Meanwhile the novel's opening frame, a news article about a sixty-year-old Kimiko standing trial for something considerably darker than bar management, hangs over every warm scene like a tab that has been silently accumulating since page one. The bill, when it arrives, is not itemized. It simply states the total.

This is a strong, disturbing, and frequently beautiful book, and I found it considerably more than the sum of its marketing copy's flattery would suggest. The "Japanese Breaking Bad" tag is the kind of thing publicists write when they need a shortcut into an American reader's attention, and it does the book a disservice: Breaking Bad is about male ego metastasizing into crime; Sisters in Yellow is about what happens when the economic floor simply does not exist for certain women, and survival becomes indistinguishable from criminality before anyone has had time to make a conscious choice about it.

The book's central argument is that money is the only real protection available to people who lack inherited land, family safety nets, legitimate credentials, and the social legibility that comes with all three.

Every financial disaster in the novel, from Hana's mother's pyramid scheme to Kotomi's yakuza entanglement to Lemon's destruction by fire, follows from the same structural condition: women without money have no ground to stand on, and the people who offer to help them stand almost always want something in return. This is not a new observation, but Kawakami renders it with enough granular, unglamourized detail.

The Kimiko frame is the most formally interesting and emotionally devastating element. Opening with the news article about an abuser before rewinding to show us the same Kimiko as a source of warmth, practical wisdom, and stability is not a trick designed to make us feel foolish for caring about her. It is a serious argument about what poverty, precarity, and the absence of any legitimate recourse can do to a person over decades.

The Kimiko of the 1990s chapters is someone surviving, and the gap between her and the Kimiko in the Shinjuku apartment is explained by time and circumstance. Kawakami does not hand us the intervening twenty years, and she is right not to: the gap is the point.

The book insists that the distance between a person who has never done anything terrible and a person who has is shorter than anyone finds it comfortable to admit, and that the distance is often measured in money.

The conditions Kawakami describes, predatory lending aimed at women with no financial literacy, pyramid schemes dressed as women's empowerment, hostess bars as the only plausible employment for young women without credentials or connections, violence from men that the police will not touch, savings that disappear through bad luck and other people's greed before they can accumulate into security, are not period details. They describe the present with uncomfortable precision in most of the world's cities.

The yellow of the title collects meaning as the book progresses: the lucky color that Hana places in the west corner of Lemon, the lemons in the bar's name, and finally the fading yellow paint on the walls of the house where everything falls apart. Lucky colors, it turns out, require something more durable underneath them.
❤️ 🇮🇱

[Jill · Rating 4 out of 5]

It’s always a joy to discover a new work by Mieko Kawakami. From her breakout bestseller Breasts and Eggs to Heaven, a brutal novel on teenage bullying to All the Lovers in the Night, where an introverted proofreader liberates herself from her own self-imposed isolation, this author understands and communicates the human condition.

As a reader, I turn to Mieko Kawakami for insights into deciphering the big questions about what it means to be human, whether it’s rising above school bullying, societal or class pressures, emotional or physical pain, or not so simply, the messy nature of an unresolved life.

In this, her latest novel, set in 1990s Tokyo, I got some of what I wanted and expected, although at times the novel gets a little too bogged down. This noir thriller focuses on a bond between Hana, a 15-year-old girl who connects early on to an older woman named Kimiko. Intoxicated by the woman, who gives her the attention her largely absent mother does not, they open a makeshift bar called Lemon in a gritty nightlife neighborhood.

But years later, Kimiko is on trial and Hana – now grown up – must face a moral reckoning. When does the need for belonging turn dangerous? Does economic desperation cause us to close our eyes into morally shady areas? Are all of us a little bit innocent and a little bit guilty for our actions?

As always, this author prods us to look beyond the surface, not allowing us to be complacent in a simple one-sided view. For example, is Hana the most reliable narrator or is she revising the past to suit her need for absolution? Are we, as readers, meant to forgive Hana, judge her, or simply let her tell her story.

This meditation on the complicated intensity of female friendship and the moral responsibility it bears proves once again why Mieko Kawakami is an author to respect. My thanks to Knopf and NetGalley for providing me with an early edition.

[Elena L. · Rating 3 out of 5]

[ 3.5/5 stars ]

Growing up without a father, Hana lives with her absent mother. Until she meets Kimiko, a woman older than Hana's mother who seems to care about Hana amidst the brokenness.

Broken by life, the story follows a cast of four women whose lives come together in 1990s Tokyo. Examining themes of matriarchy, poverty, capitalism, inequality and friendship, Kawakami shows the way life revolves around money, how money can mean power and utter control over people who are often taken advantage of. Among adulting and making ends meet, the characters try to find some comfort and hope in found family and sisterhood. Reading the lines, I felt all the anger and hopelessness about Hana's mother, about the injustice and condemning society. What initially felt like a character study turned into slice-of-life, a glimpse into the everyday mundanity that can be aimless, which kept me from fully embracing this novel.

It's also about self-discovery and betrayal, in finding meaning through small joys while the narrative is infused with a touch of Japanese (pop) culture that almost feels personal. The messiness is both real and also annoying, sometimes feeling like plot device. I think the lack of momentum did this one a disservice, yet isn't life also a depiction of this lack? The story allows mediation and the lackluster moments become sharp at 60%, which made me better engaged.

With evocative prose, SISTERS IN YELLOW is about women navigating life's struggles as Kawakami dives deep into timely themes like no other. BREASTS AND EGGS remains a favorite and regardless of this novel's shortcomings, I can see the importance of this book.

[ I received an ARC from the publisher - Knopf publishing . All opinions are my own ]

[Stacey ˗ ღ ˎˊ˗ · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Sisters in Yellow, Mieko Kawakami delivers another piercing exploration of girlhood, vulnerability, and the complicated bonds that shape our lives. Set in the backstreets and late-night spaces of 1990s Tokyo, the novel follows fifteen-year-old Hana, whose precarious home life begins to change when she meets the captivating Kimiko.

For Hana, Kimiko represents possibility - friendship, belonging, and stepping into the world. Working at the shabby bar Lemon, Hana feels a sense of independence and building a life beyond what she has known.

Kawakami writes with honesty about how quickly those hopes can end. Beneath the surface of glamour and freedom lies a far harsher reality, where youth, gender, and economic vulnerability shape the choices available to these young women.

What makes the work extraordinary is Kawakami’s ability to capture the emotional intensity of adolescence alongside the structural forces surrounding her characters. Sisters in Yellow is a portrait of friendship, betrayal, and the dreams of women trying to survive.

Thank you to Knopf and NetGalley for the advance copy.

[Karla · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was excellent, her best book translated into English so far. It feels particularly important to me now that so many cheesy, "feel good" Japanese books are trending (some of them are cute, but I'm so sick of the Before the Coffee Gets Cold copycats), and it talks about people in modern Japanese society who are usually overlooked. It felt a bit like Kaiji, but for teenage girls.

I made a playlist with the songs mentioned in the book and a few extras.

[Kat · Rating 4 out of 5]

We first meet Hana when she’s a very young girl being raised by a single mother. That mother doesn’t seem interested in her own child, who is often left alone. As the years go by, Hana realizes that she lives in poverty, is neglected, and has to fight for herself—because no one else will. Little by little, we watch Hana slip into a shady world. The whole process feels flawless and natural. Nobody wants to become a criminal; it just happens.

It’s fascinating to see the Japanese outcasts and their lives on the margins of society. I wonder how much of this the author actually knows and how much she made up—it feels so realistic. The novel spans several decades, and Hana’s gradual evolution from a neglected child into, let’s say, a different kind of life is portrayed slowly and deliberately. To reflect that, the author uses a measured, unhurried narrative—no time jumps, no dual timeline. I really appreciate that.

The dialogues are long, simple, and often stretch over several pages without any intervening description. Events are presented matter-of-factly; their significance seems lost because the characters—especially Hana herself—either can’t grasp the gravity of what’s happening or choose to downplay it. All of this is intentional. Kawakami knows exactly what she’s doing and how to use literary technique to convey her meaning.

Each character is distinct, and the underworld is portrayed as murky and involuntary—people don’t end up there by choice; it just happens. There are consequences, but nobody sees them coming.

As much as I understand and appreciate the writing technique—which is truly masterful—I can’t say I enjoyed the book. Somehow, it felt emotionless; the plot wasn’t always clear, and some sections dragged on or felt uninteresting. The whole thing seemed somewhat stiff. It’s hard to explain. I don’t know if that’s because of the book itself, the translation, or simply my own timing (maybe it wasn’t the right moment to read it).

I think I’d risk saying that Sisters in Yellow is like Dickens or Dostoyevsky—you know it’s great literature, you can see why, and yet you don’t quite like it.

[Rachel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Kawakami’s latest takes us to the underworld of Tokyo, to the world of the yakuza, cabaret clubs, swindlers, and organized crime. Hana Ito was raised on the margins of society by a single mother who treats life as one big party and doesn’t have a responsible bone in her body. After her mom’s boyfriend makes off with the money she’d saved, Hana runs off to live with a quasi-friend of her mother, Kimiko, and through a stroke of luck, they’re able to open and operate a bar they name Lemon. Eventually joined by two other teenage misfits, Hana finds happiness, or some semblance of it, for the first time.

From there, the story takes a turn because luck can’t last long for girls with no support, no savings, no documents, and no true guidance. With few opportunities for work and desperate for that once held feeling of purpose and teamwork, Hana, and eventually her friends, begin to take on riskier and riskier jobs to get their paychecks.

Kawakami highlights how easy it is for those who are already vulnerable to find themselves in positions where there is no way out, only further in. Money and those who have it pull all the strings and the rest of us are mere puppets just trying to get by.

Though the story and its characters were of interest to me, the writing was a bit too literal and straightforward. Hana’s thoughts circle around the same anxieties, she asks herself the same questions, tells herself the same reassurances, and the story loses its potency with every repetition. By the halfway point, much of it has become very redundant and I began to get a bit frustrated with the length as we were hit over the head again and again with the same talking points that never added any complexity.

Perhaps the repetition comes down to the fact that this novel was originally serialized? Who knows. The dialogue does sharpen and become more realistic around the 85% mark, it felt noticeably different to me.

[Nao]

feels so real you can smell the air, people’s breath, feel the stress and pain

[Hestia Istiviani · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mieko Kawakami’s Sisters in Yellow has something that made me keep on reading. I got mad and irritated with the characters but somehow I wanted to know what happens next.

The ending is kinda rushed off but it stays true with “the message”: money is power & poverty is violence.

[Misty · Rating 5 out of 5]

Die Farbe Gelb spielt in diesem Buch eine große Rolle, wobei mir der angekündigte Titel für die englische Übersetzung noch besser gefällt: "Sisters in Yellow". Zwar kommt in der Geschichte auch ein gelbes Haus vor, doch die "Schwestern" machen diese erst so richtig aus. Mit den Schwestern sind die Hauptfigur Hana und ihre Freundinnen bzw. Kumpaninnen gemeint, die sie nach und nach aufgabelt. Gelb spielt deswegen eine so große Rolle weil es laut Hanas Feng-Shui-Verständnis Geld anlocken soll - und für Geld setzt sie einiges in Bewegung.

Ihr Streben danach lässt die Handlung mitunter etwas mäandern, aber immerhin gerät auch Hana auf der Suche nach einem sicheren Einkommen durchaus auf Abwege. Wobei sich beim Lesen die Frage stellt ob sich die typischen Hauptwege des Lebens für jemanden wie Hana -jung, weiblich, ungebildet- wirklich besser begehen ließen. Die Autorin erzeugt ganz ohne erhobenem Zeigefinger aufgrund dieser Basis ein tolles Spannungsfeld und ich bin den Um- und Abwegen der Hauptfigur sehr gerne gefolgt. Junge Frauen im kriminellen Mileu Japans der 90er Jahre - ein sehr lohnenswerter Lesestoff!