Introduction
Published in English in 2019, Before the Coffee Gets Cold was authored by Toshikazu Kawaguchi and translated by Geoffrey Trousselot. This tale of time is the first in a series centering on the wish we all have - to go back in time to change something we did.
A Summary
The book is made up of four interconnected stories. The first follows a woman who wants to understand why her boyfriend left her, hoping that revisiting one moment might give her the clarity she never got. The second centres on a wife reading a letter from her husband who’s living with Alzheimer’s, capturing the tenderness and ache of loving someone who is slowly slipping away. The third tells the story of two sisters trying to bridge the emotional distance that’s grown between them. And the final story follows a mother who longs for a chance to meet the daughter she may never get to raise.
Writing Style
Before the Coffee Gets Cold is split into 4 different short stories, each with their own focus on a character tied to this cafe. There are no chapters in between the individual stories, meaning it is around 60 pages without a break in between. Having said this, it goes incredibly quickly while reading because the world is so immersive and the dialogue feels natural.
My Thoughts
This book, despite its short length, made me think deeply. It was a book that I put off reading for a long time because I knew it would affect me, and I’m glad I waited until I felt ready. At first, I did struggle to connect with the characters and I was worried because the café feel to the novel felt extremely familiar and had the potential to fall into a cliché. I do think a lot of this is due to the translation and I honestly wish I knew Japanese so I could read the original version. However, within 50 or so pages I felt immersed in the stories, each one centering on a person going to a different time just to have the chance to do it differently, even though it can’t change the present. The second story in particular really stayed with me. Its portrayal of Alzheimer’s hit incredibly close to home because of my own connection to the disorder and the people I’ve cared for who lived with it. The heartbreak of watching someone slip away piece by piece, paired with the perseverance that comes from loving them anyway, was captured so gently and so painfully. The letter absolutely broke me; I cried in a way that felt both personal and cathartic. I also loved how the stories interacted with each other. Even when it wasn’t a character’s “turn,” they were still present, still woven into the fabric of the café and the lives unfolding inside it. It made everything feel cohesive, like each story was quietly holding the others up. And the ghost tied the whole thing together for me. She was the one constant, the quiet anchor of the café, and I don’t think the book would feel nearly as seamless without her. She isn’t talked about much, but her presence is such a staple of the atmosphere and the emotional rhythm of the novel. She made the world feel complete. This is a book that I know I will think about for a long time.
Recommendation
There isn’t a world in which I wouldn’t recommend this. Even if you don’t typically like translated fiction, you should read this just for the philosophical aspect that it forces you to confront.