El gato que amaba los libros

An interesting story about the relationship between an introvert boy and a cat that can talk, and their adventures in saving books. And while saving the books, he (and the reader) will get a better appreciation about the power of books to affect the world.

At the start, the boy's grandfather, who owns a small bookshop, has passed away, leaving the boy feeling isolated and alone. The boy may have to close the bookshop, his comfort space, to stay with his relatives. But then a talking cat shows up, asking for his help to save books. Together, they journey to three labyrinths, where books are being imprisoned, mutilated and sold as commodities. Using his knowledge and love about books, the boy works to free the books and to convince the people in the labyrinth to love books for what they are, not for what the person can do to the books.

During the adventures, the boy gradually begins to open up and develops a friendship with a school classmate, who is concerned about him not showing up in school. The classmate, unexpectedly, then joins in his adventures.

But there is one more labyrinth, which the boy has to enter on his own. For it contains a formidable opponent with a strong opinion about books. And it would need all the boy's love, and thoughts, about books to change the opponent's opinion about the power of books and what books can do.

In the end, the adventures will convince the boy to open up to the world and to keep the bookshop open; for there will always be a need for books. As for the cat, it will move on to other adventures.

A cat and a little bookstore - what's not to like? The story evoked a lot of visual imagery for me. It was easy to imagine, for example, a stop motion version of the story playing out while reading it. The main character is awkward indecisive, but earnest and well-meaning. He may come across as judgemental because of his love of specific types of books and how they should be treated, but he doesn't do so to be spiteful and superior - it's just what he believes. A pleasant, light read with some deeper thoughts about today's world and literature.

Un libro muy corto y maravilloso, liviano y fácil de leer, pero en sus 3 aventuras entrega lecciones de vida. Hacía un rato que no leía un libro de ficción así, lo recomiendo al 100% para un descanso y alegría a las neuronas.

I'm wondering if the translation missed something? idk.

Rintaro ha perdido a su abuelo, quien se encargó de él desde la muerte de sus padres. Ahora está a cargo de la Librería Natsuki, una librería de segunda mano en que ha disfrutado de muchas lecturas y que le ha servido de refugio ante el mundo. Siempre ha sido un hikikomori (término japonés usado para referirse a personas que han decidido apartarse de la vida social y vivir en condiciones de aislamiento), y ahora debe decidir que hará con su vida; cerrará la librería para irse con su tía, o continuará ahí manteniendo el legado de su abuelo.

A su lado estará un gran gato atigrado que se le aparece en los momentos precisos para guiarlo por tres laberintos con el fin de que resuelva ciertos dilemas que tienen que ver con el uso que se da a los libros, determinando su compromiso con la librería del abuelo. Pero también está su compañera Sayo, que por su lado le ayudará a definir si el joven está listo para ser más sociable y aceptar salir de sus libros, compartir un poco más con los demás y con ello difundir el legado real de su abuelo.

En fin, que se trata de una novela corta algo fantástica, cuestiona varios tópicos como los propósitos del mundo editorial, el poder de los libros, ¿se puede siempre aprender algo nuevo de los libros?, ¿se debe leer despacio y saboreando o es válida la lectura rápida? ¿Los libros que no se leen caen en el olvido? Así por el estilo son las inquietudes que se le presentan a Rintaro, incitándole al análisis que un joven adolescente puede plantearse y así buscar el equilibrio en su vida.

Es un libro sencillo, dirigido a niños o jovenes con inquietudes literarias.

At times I felt this was verging on book snobbery. If people want to collect books as objects, speed read or publish books that make money (so that more books can be published!), that's all good. Making a kid read A Thousand Years of Solitude when they are struggling with it seems like a way to kill off a love of reading if you ask me. Towards the end it all felt like very mixed messaging. Should books evolve to survive or should we be just clinging on to the books of the past? I guess it would be a good book club discussion!

I must confess, I was a little disappointed in this book. I had somewhere read or heard an enthusiastic review, so my expectations were high, but it did not live up to them. The form was a rather fairly-tail like series of episodes which were essentially commentary on the publishing world. That meant the book had a certain simplicity and was easy to read, but it did lack depth. Ironically, one of the passages in the book complained that modern books are too easy to read and lack depth. Was this supposed to be ironic? I was not very convinced by some of the complaints against the publishing industry. For instance, that there is a preponderance of summaries and abbreviated texts these days. Maybe that is a feature of Japan today, but for me that sounded like the popularity of Reader's Digest books and magazines in the 1970s, which I am not sure even exists any more (apparently it still does, but I haven't seen one for years). Likewise, speed reading is a phenomenon that I thought was from a few years back.
Another complaint is that the publishers focus on what people like to read rather than books that would be good for them, more difficult books. Firstly, I am not enthusiastic about that sort of elitism, reading is reading, and secondly that is also not something that I actually observe. Yes, there is a huge variety of popular books published, more than ever before I believe, but there are also plenty of more challenging books available as well.
The first issue was one I had some sympathy with. The person they met had the feeling that there were so many new books that it was a struggle to keep up with all you wanted to read, and that because of that they would rather read a new book than re-read an old one. The answer was to do more re-reading, but the author didn't go into any depth about the issue, so wasn't really much help. Should I perhaps have re-read another book instead of reading The Cat Who Saved Books?