You know that feeling when you bite into something so delicious it makes you close your eyes and savor the moment? That’s what reading Durian Sukegawa’s “Sweet Bean Paste” is like—a literary treat that lingers long after you’ve turned the final page. This slim novel packs an emotional wallop, exploring weighty themes of prejudice, isolation, and second chances through the unlikely friendship between a burnt-out dorayaki shop worker and an elderly woman with a troubled past.
A Recipe for Redemption
At its heart, “Sweet Bean Paste” is about finding purpose and connection in unexpected places. Our protagonist, Sentaro, is a man adrift—crushed by debt, haunted by his criminal past, and stuck in a dead-end job making dorayaki (those addictive little pancake sandwiches filled with sweet red bean paste). He’s given up on his dreams of becoming a writer and spends his days in an alcohol-fueled haze, going through the motions at the tiny Doraharu shop.
Enter Tokue, a mysterious 76-year-old woman with gnarled, claw-like hands who offers to work for a pittance making bean paste. Despite his initial skepticism, Sentaro is blown away by Tokue’s culinary magic. Her bean paste isn’t just delicious – it’s transcendent. As she teaches Sentaro her craft, imparting wisdom about “listening” to the beans and treating them with respect, a tender friendship blossoms between this unlikely pair.
But this isn’t just a heartwarming tale of mentorship. Tokue harbors a dark secret that threatens to unravel everything. Sukegawa delves into Japan’s painful history of discrimination against Hansen’s disease (leprosy) patients, exploring how societal prejudice can destroy lives and examining the long shadow cast by past injustices.
A Feast for the Senses
Sukegawa’s prose, beautifully translated by Alison Watts, is as delicate and precisely crafted as Tokue’s bean paste. The descriptions of food preparation are downright mouthwatering:
“When there was just a little cooking water left in the pot, Tokue turned off the flame and placed a chopping board on top as a lid. This would steam them she told Sentaro. All these steps were completely new to him.”
You can almost smell the sweet aroma wafting off the page. But it’s not just about the food – Sukegawa has a gift for evoking the small sensory details that bring a scene to life. The rustling of cherry blossoms, the sticky heat of summer, the comforting rhythm of stirring bean paste—it all comes together to create a rich, immersive reading experience.
Characters to Savor
While the plot may sound simple on the surface, the characters in “Sweet Bean Paste” are anything but. Sentaro’s journey from apathy to engagement is beautifully rendered. His growing friendship with Tokue awakens something long dormant in him, and watching him slowly rediscover his passion for life is deeply satisfying.
Tokue herself is a marvel—wise and kind, but also prickly and stubborn. Her backstory, revealed in bits and pieces, is utterly heartbreaking. Yet she maintains a sense of wonder about the world, finding joy in small moments like watching cherry blossoms fall or listening to the “voices” of the adzuki beans.
The supporting cast is equally well-drawn. There’s Wakana, a troubled teenage girl who finds solace at the dorayaki shop. The shop owner, torn between profit and prejudice. Even minor characters like the gossipy schoolgirls who frequent Doraharu feel fully realized.
A Bittersweet Blend of Tones
One of the most impressive aspects of “Sweet Bean Paste” is how deftly Sukegawa balances light and dark elements. There’s plenty of humor, especially in the early scenes of Tokue and Sentaro getting to know each other. But the novel doesn’t shy away from heavy themes, tackling discrimination, isolation, and the weight of the past head-on.
The result is a reading experience that feels true to life in all its messy complexity. Just when things start to get too heavy, Sukegawa will throw in a moment of levity or beauty that lifts your spirits. It’s like, um, you know when you’re eating something super rich and decadent, but there’s that little burst of tartness that cuts through and makes it all work? That’s what this book does.
Food for Thought
Beyond the central story, “Sweet Bean Paste” offers plenty to chew on (sorry, I can’t resist the food metaphors with this one). Sukegawa explores questions of what gives life meaning, how we connect with others across generational and societal divides, and the lasting impact of discrimination.
There’s a lovely thread throughout about really seeing and listening to the world around you. Tokue’s approach to making bean paste becomes a metaphor for engaging fully with life:
“When I make sweet bean paste I observe closely the colour of the adzuki beans’ faces. I take in their voices. That might mean imagining a rainy day or the beautiful fine weather that they have witnessed. I listen to their stories of the winds that blew on their journey to me.”
It’s a reminder to slow down and appreciate the small moments that make up a life. In our rushed, productivity-obsessed world, that’s a message worth savoring.
A Taste of controversy
It’s worth noting that some readers might find aspects of the novel’s handling of Hansen’s disease patients problematic. While Sukegawa’s intentions seem good, there are moments where the depiction of Tokue and other former patients veers towards the sentimental or overly “inspirational.” It’s a complex topic, and your mileage may vary on how successfully the book navigates it.
That said, “Sweet Bean Paste” has clearly resonated with readers around the world. Originally published in Japan in 2013, it’s been translated into multiple languages and adapted into the film “Sweet Bean” directed by Naomi Kawase.
The Final Bite
“Sweet Bean Paste” is one of those deceptively simple stories that sticks with you long after you’ve finished. It’s a quick read—you could probably polish it off in an afternoon—but the characters and themes will linger in your mind for days.
Sukegawa has crafted something special here, a novel that manages to be both heartwarming and thought-provoking. It’s a celebration of human connection, a meditation on finding purpose, and a call to really engage with the world around us. Oh, and fair warning—it’ll definitely make you crave dorayaki.
If you enjoy quietly powerful stories about unlikely friendships, Japanese literature that grapples with social issues, or heck, just really good food writing, give “Sweet Bean Paste” a try. Just maybe have some snacks on hand while you read. Trust me on this one.
Comparable Reads
If you enjoyed “Sweet Bean Paste,” you might also like:
- “The Housekeeper and the Professor” by Yoko Ogawa – Another tender story of an unlikely friendship with mathematical musings replacing culinary ones.
- “Kitchen” by Banana Yoshimoto – A classic of contemporary Japanese literature that also uses food as a lens to explore grief and human connection.
- “The Travelling Cat Chronicles” by Hiro Arikawa – A heartwarming road trip novel that, like “Sweet Bean Paste,” packs an unexpected emotional punch.
About the Author
“Sweet Bean Paste” is Durian Sukegawa’s first novel to be translated into English, but he’s an established writer in Japan. He’s published several other novels and also works as a singer, actor, and radio host. His varied background shines through in the vivid sensory details and pitch-perfect dialogue of “Sweet Bean Paste.”
