5 Lessons from “What You are Looking for is in the Library” by Michiko Aoyama

I thought I’d sworn off fiction, but this book came as a recommendation. Not because I would like it, but because it was an easy read.

When I picked it up, I expected to put it back down — specifically on my growing pile of books that I’ve taken a break from reading started but will never finish — but this one didn’t make the cut.

Five chapters, five people, and five lessons that stuck. Some are superficial, some are not, and I’m going to tell you about all of them.

Here’s what this book taught me:

1. Shrunken sweaters need hair conditioner

When dealing with an angry customer and a shrunken knit sweater, Tomaka, a 21-year-old sales assistant looks to her older and wiser colleague, Mrs Numauchi, for help.

While the customer complains about how her sweater shrunk after putting it in the washing machine, Mrs Numauchi calmly listens and then proceeds to say:

“I often make that mistake too, you know. I forget to check the washing instructions and end up putting some delicate item through a washing machine.

But there is a way to fix it, you know. Just put a small amount of hair conditioner — one pump is enough — in a basin of warm water, dissolve it and immerse the sweater. As soon as it is wet through, take it out again, wring and stretch it into shape, then lay it flat to dry.”

Of course, I am aware that there was a larger lesson to be learned, but sitting in the knit-worthy climate of a rainless Colombo evening made me think that this was more useful.

2. Not everything needs to be cooked on a low flame

This shallow lesson comes from Tomoka’s story too. In an attempt to make castella, she learns that practice really does make progress.

If you don’t know what castella is, neither do I — which is why I completely ignored the larger lesson and felt more drawn to her cooking. After whipping up burnt, rubbery castella, Tomoko narrates:

“From then on, every day for a week after coming home from work, I make castella cake. It becomes part of my daily routine, almost an obsession.

I search online for tips to improve it. Letting the eggs reach room temperature first. Placing the frying pan on a damp cloth from time to time during cooking to take the edge off the heat. These really help”

I relate this lesson to pancakes. They’re not castella, but the same theory probably applies. When I make pancakes, I put batter on a pan. I don’t think about adjusting the temperature at different points because I don’t know how to — and I never cared enough to look it up. I always stick to a low flame because I don’t want them to burn, which is why this stood out as well:

“Another important factor is the cooking temperature. I had it fixed in my brain that the flame should be kept low, so it takes me a while to realize I need to adjust it and to work out when to cool the pan.”

When you make the effort to look into where you’re going wrong, you’ll probably find out where you’re going wrong.

With that, here are a few quick tips I found online for cooking pancakes:

• Use medium heat — not low
• Only flip your pancakes once — the more you flip, the less fluffy they become
• Don’t press down on them with a spatula

I haven’t tried or tested any of these, but at least now I know.

3. You can have more than one job

This is obvious, but it’s also not.

When 35 year old Ryo, an accountant for a furniture store, finds himself hopelessly pining over the idea of owning an antique shop — he realizes that he doesn’t need to quit his stable job to pursue his dream one.

While reading a book about how worms work, Ryo over-romanticizes an illustration of a tree and its root system, realizing that both the roots and the top of the tree are important to the plant.

Having just come across the concept of parallel careers, Ryo thinks:

“Humans only see what suits them most, and make that their main focus, but for plants…

Both are main,

My mind jumps to the article about parallel careers where each job is complementary, neither is secondary…

Plants have work to do above and below ground, and their work in one area complements the other. Maybe it’s the same with having an office job and running a store…

What if I could do it too?

But how do I combine them? That is the question.”

This has given me a new perspective on second jobs. I have only ever thought of second jobs as side hustles, never as another primary role.

The concept sounds time-consuming, but if there was a way to commit to two places at once, it would widen my career path and reduce the monotony of doing the same thing for the rest of my life.

While I have not looked into a parallel career that could complement my own, I like knowing that I can do something new without giving up on everything I’ve done so far.

4. Mothers resent their husbands and children when that’s all they’re allowed to be

This lesson takes a darker turn, but a common one.

Natsumi’s story had to be the most frustrating for me. After 13 years of working at the same magazine and becoming its editor — she finds out after giving birth that she’s been demoted to Information Resources.

Why? Because it’s too hard to work with a baby. This may seem like a no-brainer to some. Raising a baby is difficult, but so is giving up everything you’ve worked for.

When you read this next extract, do it slowly and put yourself in her position. Everything you have worked for is being taken away right in front of you:

“All through maternity leave I had read Mila from cover to cover every month, come up with ideas and plans for future features and studied the reference materials, all on the assumption that I was returning to my position. I’d kept myself prepared and ready to get on top of the work the moment I was back.

It had never even occurred to me that I might lose my position. Everything I had built up over thirteen years at Mila — what had it all been for? Had my contribution and impact been of such little consequence that they weren’t prepared to wait for me?”

Slowly, Natsumi’s role as a mother seems to swallow her whole. While her husband makes strides in his career, hers deteriorates right in front of her. She asks him to help, but he says he cannot compromise his job. Not even a little bit.

Meanwhile, she sacrifices everything — not out of choice, but out of need. She resents her husband for his freedom, her child for burdening her, and herself for feeling that way.

This is not a unique story. Fathers get families and mothers get trapped.

Eventually, Natsumi does find a job that suits her interests and meets her needs as a mother, and her husband does start taking on the role of a parent, but only after she breaks down.

The same lesson applies to the story of Masao, a 65-year-old retired man who is so new to housework that he doesn’t even know how to fold socks — while his wife, Yoriko, who still works, has balanced a home and career all along.

He finds himself questioning whether she is slowly losing feelings for him, as he feels helpless and unsure in this new stage of his life.

In learning the art of being a homemaker, Masao realizes that he is only just getting to know his wife, when she has known him for the entirety of their marriage:

“… I know from having asked Chie during our lunch at the soba shop that Yoriko’s favourite rice ball filling is pickled nozawana leafy greens. I am glad I asked, as I would never have guessed that on my own. To think that all this time I didn’t even know that, while Yoriko knows exactly what my tastes are.

We sit down on the bench and I pull out the rice balls covered with plastic wrap. Yoriko cries out in surprise and looks from my face to the rice ball, and back again, before taking a bite.

‘Mmm, it’s nozawana!’ she exclaims happily. Seeing her so happy makes me happy, too.”

In taking the time to appreciate Yoriko, Masao changed the dynamic of their relationship.

If we do not acknowledge, accommodate, and reward women for the multiple roles they are able to take on, we only leave room for resentment.

5. You need to balance emotion with logic

This lesson comes from Natsumi’s story too. She comes across the concept of the heart having two eyes — the sun eye and the moon eye:

“The heart has two eyes to perceive that which is not visible to the eye. One is the ‘Sun Eye’, which sheds a bright light on our understanding of things from a rational and logical perspective. The other is the ‘Moon Eye’, which perceives things through instinct or emotion, in our imagination or dreams, such as seeing ghosts in the dark or entertaining a secret love.”

Later on, Natsumi realizes that she can use her Sun Eye to achieve the things that her Moon Eye wants.

While there are multiple methods and frameworks that exist to help people to get things done, none have resonated with me more than this.

Today, I created a table. In the left column, I wrote the things my ‘Moon Eye’ wanted, and in the right, I used my ‘Sun Eye’ to narrow down the steps to getting there.

For example, my ‘Moon Eye’ has always wanted to learn Tamil. So with my ‘Sun Eye’, I narrowed down the first steps to looking at classes online and dedicating an hour to learning every day.

There are so many things that I want to do and I never know where to start, but this has made things seem more attainable — because it’s simple.

—

From the right way to make pancakes to the best way to get things done, this book has taught me things that I plan on using in my actual life.

Maybe these aren’t the five lessons that Michiko Aoyama intended, but they are the five I’ve got.

To me, “What You Are Looking for Is in the Library” is not a brilliant read, but if you do pick it up — you might learn a thing or five.