A book about a young woman, who is apparently very shy and deeply introverted, who falls in love with a museum exhibit. The story, short as it is, follows this woman as the relationship with said exhibit deepens, and culminates in a bold resolution.

The best thing I can say about it is that it was short enough for me not to lose faith that it was worth reading, despite struggling on multiple occasions. My main peeve is that I'm still not sure what the book was about. Is it about the struggle of young otaku-like women to find their way in life? Is it about the various forms that true love can take? Or is it about the necessity of bold moves to truly commit to one's emotions? That being said, it could also be about an insane person struggling with schizophrenia.

I didn't like it. I'm not sure what I read, why I read it, and what I should take away from it. It falls in to this new genre of books that seem to pride themselves in making the reader feel confused and stupid, in the hope that shame would make the literary world praise them regardless. Post-modernist literature, etc. Personally, I hate it.

A clear miss for me. No redeeming qualities whatsoever. Life's too short for this type of literature.

My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with an early copy of this book in return for an honest review.

This was strange and surreal and sad and fun all at the same time. I loved the idea of wearing a raincoat to survive in life and the idea that everyone would have some form of protective clothing to navigate the world. I'm still not entirely sure I've processed this short novel, but it left me feeling content and relaxed and that's always what I'm aiming for when reading magical realism.

Some books are actively promoted or framed as 'queer literature', either when they are first published, or whenever their author and/or contents can be celebrated as a queer icon. Others do not get the same level of queer conceptualising, regardless of the actual content of the text. I doubt that When the Museum is Closed will be placed in the LGBTQ+ section of your local library, or promoted at an LGBTQ+ indie bookstore, even though Emi Yagi is being more open and willing to engage with queer issues than the more lauded and ostensibly radical Japanese authors like Mieko Kawakami or Sayaka Murata.

Do you remember the last 30% or so of Yagi's debut Diary of a Void? The part that felt a bit like a dream and didn't make much sense? Well, all of Museum is like that. The protagonist, a shy Japanese woman who works in a freezer warehouse, permanently wears a raincoat no one else can see and happens to be a fluent Latin speaker, is hired by a local museum to be a conversation partner and a companion to a 2000 year old Roman statue of Venus (yup, all states can talk in this reality). Of course, she falls in love with Venus, and even has some confusing but passionate sex with her right there in the museum.

For a book with such phantasmagorical premise and details, the actual ideas discussed and the overall message are, as Scar would put it, unspeakably plain. It is all about how women are limited and controlled, one is naked and ogled at, and the other hides from the world in her coat of shyness and modesty. Of course they will find their freedom in each other. We've kind of seen it all before.

It was quite short, well-paced and easy to read, and it would quench the thirst for 'weird Japanese fiction written by a woman' (tm) if that is your jam. And kudos to Yagi for writing a Sapphic love/lust story.

2.5 stars

When the Museum is Closed is a short Japanese novel about an unusual relationship, as a woman gets a job talking to a statue. Rika works in a frozen food warehouse, but when she's offered an extra part time job using her Latin skills to talk to a statue of Venus in the language, she finds herself with new meaning in her life. As she falls in love with Venus, who is frustrated at being a statue trapped in a museum, she finds herself pitted against the museum curator who wants to keep Venus for himself.

This book is a surreal, magical realism story which explores loneliness and connection, not just between Rika and Venus, but also the other people who appear in Rika's life. As well as talking statues, there's also a yellow raincoat that Rika is always forced to wear but no one else can see, and this idea of hidden impediments is interesting in contrast to the obvious impediments for Venus, who isn't human and faces the limitations of a statue. I liked the quirkiness of Rika being able to speak great conversational Latin, though there were a few things she discussed with Venus that I wondered how they had Latin vocabulary for (but, suspension of disbelief is crucial with this book anyway). The book being in translation adds an additional layer to the languages and ideas of communication in the story, too.

Overall, I think it's a tender book that reminds me most of other novels about people falling in unusual love like Sky Daddy, but unlike some of those books, it is more of a vibe than a book with a lot of plot, and the romance element is only part of it.

I’m not sure I’m clever enough to fully decipher this interesting short novel. Perhaps I can comfort myself by saying that maybe … maybe no one can as that’s possibly the author’s intent. Maybe.

It’s also why my review might be as valid as anyone’s; I think that different readers will take away different things from this delightful tale of one girl’s challenges in living a modern life. The novel is pitched on the idea of Rika falling in love with a statue of Venus. That happens, but it’s only one strand of the tale, taking up about 30% or so. This metaphor for Rika’s difficulties in forming genuine relationships is extended across several facets that make up her daily existence, her goals, and her perceptions—particularly of herself.

Rika is shrouded within the bright yellow raincoat she can never take off. Rika pursues and masters a near-dead language, Latin (near dead in terms of current use outside of connections to history, art, and literature). Which itself informs us about her challenges of communication in life. Rika works in a freezer, layered in life-saving clothing.

Metaphor, metaphor, where art thou? Sprinkled within the liberal doses of magical realism, verging on being surreal. The prose is beautifully translated, lyrical and enchanting, and one of the reasons I enjoyed the novel.

If you’re expecting a pure romance told within a similar setup to the Night at the Museum movies, When the Museum Is Closed is not that. It’s different, and while it should be a challenging read, the ideas, the MC’s charm, and the wonderful prose elevate this short novel to something much more.

Thank you to the author and the translator, to the publisher, and to NetGalley for the opportunity to float through the beauty of this ARC.

Thank to Netgalley and Random House UK Vintage for the ARC!

Personal rating: 4/5 stars.

This book is described perfectly by the blurb on this book: A woman who works at museum and evenrually fell in love Venus, an Aprodhite statue there.

Honestly, I don't fully understand what I have just read. For me, the vibes were there, but storyline-was... not really there. By the way, this is not in a negative way. It was just... my way to describe this book and I meant it in a positive way. In some way, I could imagine the author intention behind this book, but in some way, I also couldn't. There were bunch of things happening in this book where you could've 'get' what's happening at that moment, but in the same time, you just 'get' it without so much thinking or comprehending.

This book made me keep reading without complaining, even though I feel completely puzzled even after finishing the book. The translation is fabulous! It was an entertaining read for sure. This book is great for readers that enjoy the nuance and vibe much more than the character or the plot. This reminds me of Piranesi by Susanne Clarke.

‘When the Museum is Closed’ is a refreshing addition to the Japanese magical realism genre that sees the main character Rika learn about self-respect and self-worth through a blossoming relationship with a statue of Venus- spoken exclusively in Latin, of course. This was a fun, charming little read with a totally unique plot that seems a little silly on the surface but does address more serious themes such as consent and personal growth without being preachy or self-righteous. It’s a weird little slice of life story that really doesn’t take itself too seriously and I think if you’ve ever struggled with self-doubt, anxiety or just feeling like you don’t quite belong you’ll relate to and enjoy this read.

Thank you to Random House UK, Vintage | Harvill Secker and NetGalley for the chance to read this ARC. This review can be viewed on my Goodreads page at the following link: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/7138424387