A Place Created by 'What You Love': Reflections on 'Daikai Bunko,' a Small Library in Toyooka, Hyogo
Literature exists for the sake of living.
There is still so much that books and literature can do, and I felt once again that literature, after all, exists for the sake of living. This was a realization I had during my trip to the 'cities of literature,' Kinosaki and Toyooka.
What made that feeling even stronger was my encounter with Daikai Bunko in Toyooka.

What is Daikai Bunko?
Daikai Bunko is a small, shared-style library. Here, you can borrow books, buy them, or drink coffee as if it were a cafe. It also seems to be a place for medical and welfare consultations? I understand the cafe part, but what does a medical consultation place mean?

With its handwritten signs, bookshelves, and warm interior, Daikai Bunko is located in a shopping street in Toyooka City, in the northern part of Hyogo Prefecture.

Daikai Bunko is a small, shared-style library, and this place is a spot with books located on Daikai-dori Street in Toyooka City. It is a library where you can borrow books from the shelves, and you can also buy books that you want to keep at home. You can also lose yourself in a book that catches your eye with a cup of coffee in hand. Admission is free. Please feel free to come in. December 2020, from Manager Morimoto.
Drawn in by the Bookshelves and The Smiths
At the storefront, I was first drawn to the bookshelves. I absolutely love places where books are lined up, like bookstores and libraries. (I love them enough that I studied literature at a correspondence university and work at a library as a side job.)

Welcome to Daikai Bunko: A storefront full of welcoming vibes
As for my husband, his eyes were glued to a book about 'The Smiths' on the front shelf. He made eye contact with Morrissey, didn't he? Well, that can't be helped. After all, he loves The Smiths enough to buy a band T-shirt at a concert.

Since our interests aligned and the interior was visible through the glass, giving us a sense of security, we decided to go inside.
Becoming a Bookshelf Owner
When we went inside, a woman was quietly reading a book at a table. The books on the shelves can be read here, and they can also be borrowed just like in a library.
The bookshelf built into the front wall is divided into 'boxes' when you look closely. And each box has a different owner. People who love music, book lovers, picture books, a movie theater owner's books... it's fun to see the personality of each person reflected. For 2,400 yen a month, anyone can become the owner of a bookshelf box and place their favorite books there.
Bookshelves reveal a person's character in an interesting way. Thinking things like, 'Oh, they must love traveling,' or 'They love art,' or looking at the travel destinations and the tendencies of the authors they read and thinking, 'I see, that kind of person. I get it. I'm the same way,' or 'Oh, I think I could be friends with this person.' It's fun, as if I'm getting a glimpse into a small, individual universe partitioned by a frame.
My husband immediately started reading a book from the "The Smiths" shelf. The other books were also about British music, all things he seemed to like. I feel like I could become friends with that person.

"Daikai Bunko" also has exchange journals that feel like shared diaries, and you can even write handwritten personal messages to the owners of the bookshelves. By creating a world you love on a bookshelf, you can connect loosely with others who share the same interests. Thinking about it that way, a bookshelf might just be a "place to belong."
A "Library" as a Place to Belong Created by a Doctor
I asked the person on duty at the shop that day about the place. It turns out the owner of this Daikai Bunko is actually a doctor. And that this doctor started a coffee stall, which led to this library. Wait, what? A doctor, a coffee stall, a library? There's so much information here that I can't quite connect the dots. What does it all mean?
When I asked for more details, this is what I learned.
As part of solving issues in local geriatric healthcare, a doctor began an initiative of taking a mobile stall out into the town to offer casual medical consultations over a cup of coffee.
→ The stall became a place for local residents to chat, and by taking on the role of brewing coffee, it became a small-scale public space.
→ Since some people are not comfortable with close-range communication, they have a space for mid-range communication centered around "books."
→ If medical consultations can happen there, a place to belong might be created between the culture of books and the culture of care.
I see, so "Daikai Bunko" was also a "consultation center for finding a place to belong" for medical needs.
Furthermore, the newsletter from "Daikai Bunko" says this:
"Medical and welfare professionals are available for health consultations and consultations on finding a place to belong. We receive inquiries such as 'I'm lonely after losing a family member,' 'I'm worried about my checkup results,' or 'I'm struggling with caregiving.' Since we are not a public institution, the most we can do is worry along with you, but please feel free to reach out."
I thought the phrase "the most we can do is worry along with you" was wonderful. That is actually quite important. I remember when I was suffering from something like postpartum depression, just having someone listen to me made me feel better.
Thinking about points of contact with daily life, we hold dialogues to share worries and have opened a consultation center where medical and welfare professionals can provide advice on loneliness and health. If you are interested, please feel free to speak to our staff. December 2020, from Manager Morimoto

What is social prescribing?
At Daikai Bunko, I learned about the concept of social prescribing.
Have you ever heard the term social prescribing? Social prescribing is not about solving a patient's problems by prescribing medicine, but rather solving problems by prescribing local connections. (Tomohiro Nishi, 2020) To resolve physical and mental distress, it uses not just medicine, but local places to belong and human connections as a catalyst to resolve troubles.
For example, chatting at a neighborhood gathering, talking in a shopping district, or looking out for your neighbors and calling out to each other. Such small things can become a "place to belong" for someone. I thought that the idea of "prescribing local connections" was truly wonderful.
Perhaps a place to belong is also created by the things you love.
However, the word 'community' does strike a chord with me. I come from what is called a 'rural countryside,' but there was no place for my teenage self to belong there.
The countryside back then was a world where those who were incredibly smart or good at sports held the advantage, so there was nowhere for me—someone who loved books, loved drawing, and was interested in art—to belong. My place to belong back then existed only in 'books,' 'stories,' and within my own heart. Looking back, I could say that became the driving force for my creative work, but it wasn't until I entered an art junior college and could interact with people who liked the same things that I finally felt I had found a place where I belonged.
In other words, a place to belong is made not only of real-world local connections but also of connections based on 'things you love.' Sometimes, that is actually more important than real-life, close-range communication. In that sense, today's era, where it has become easier to connect through 'what we love' thanks to the internet, might be a good time where we can have both types of connections and both types of places to belong.
'Daikai Bunko' is, I believe, a tremendously hybrid endeavor that creates a 'place to belong' through both connections based on 'what we love'—with an exquisite sense of distance (what Mr. Morimoto calls medium-range communication) by sharing favorite books and bookshelves—and real-world local connections. This sense of belonging is strong! Plus, it even comes with a cafe and medical consultations! It's the best.
What can I do, as someone who is not a doctor?
That leads me to wonder: what can I do, as someone who is neither a doctor nor able to brew coffee?
I currently write about things I love—'dresses,' 'travel,' and 'learning'—on note, and when I can empathize with people who like the same things and feel a loose connection, it makes me incredibly happy.
And I think it would be wonderful if, someday, beyond that learning, I could create a place to belong through 'books' or 'literature,' just as I had when I was a teenager.
I don't think the place to belong created by 'books' or 'literature' is ever one-sided. It entertains you, cheers you up, and sometimes becomes a source of salvation and support. I have experienced that many times. I believe that books and people grow together, and you can have new interactions with them depending on who you are at that time.
If I could ever create such a book myself, I would become an owner of a bookshelf at Daikai Bunko and have it placed on the shelf alongside the books that supported me when I was a teenager.
The girl who was prone to daydreaming in her teens has grown up quite a bit, but she remains just as much of a dreamer, and yet, quite seriously, she is always thinking about things like that.

▼ note by the owner, Mr. Morimoto
▼ Related notes
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