“For people to actually live by some golden rule, we’d have to be living in a world with no contradictions. But we don’t live in a world like that. No one does. People do what works for them, whatever makes them feel good.” 

What if everything you think and know about the world is completely wrong? The good, bad, and ugly–school, friendships, bullying, the concept of “self”–what if these ideas are nothing but lies yet to be questioned and understood?

Mieko Kawakami’s Heaven doesn’t just question assumptions about meaning and what is right or wrong; it forces the reader to reflect and contemplate on their values and beliefs, on the suffering they’ve witnessed beyond themselves, but most importantly, on the beauty of their own lives. Those questions will most likely remain unanswered, but isn’t that what makes them worth thinking about?

The book is read out through the narration of a quiet fourteen-year-old boy, whom we only know as “Eyes” because of the nickname his bullies gave to him. They take every chance to mock his lazy eye, using that as an excuse to inflict physical and mental abuse on him. The bullying gets so bad that at a certain point, Eyes accepts the abuse as if it’s simply the natural order of life. 

“I told myself it didn’t really matter what I did. Nothing would Change”. 

His silence is so painful to read because it’s painfully real. If you’ve ever felt powerless and insignificant, then you already understand what he is going through. Early in the novel, Eyes begins to develop a friendship with Kojima, a girl who is also bullied, although for different reasons. Unlike Eyes, she has given their suffering meaning. In her mind, she views her inherent suffering as a gateway to understanding the concept of pain on a higher plane than the others around her, enduring her torment like it is something sacred and special. Despite the conflicting views of the main characters, their shared suffering develops their relationship, and they soon become each other’s refuge in a world so against them in every possible manner. Together, they examine what it means to be seen as different, what it is to be bullied, and to suffer.

“Because we’re always in pain, we know exactly what it means to hurt someone else.”

This is one of my favorite quotes in the book. It perfectly encapsulates the thoughts of the characters, suggesting that pain creates empathy but also that pain can be its form of power. Kojima and Eyes aren’t just victims–they seem to understand something that the others don’t. Nevertheless, I found myself asking: is that understanding worth what they go through?

Now hold on. Before you think that this book is just a heavy, intellectual read, let’s be clear: Heaven is much more than that. It’s extremely raw and human. It doesn’t require you to be into philosophy or debating. It’s about the universal things we’ve all felt–hopelessness, solitude, and that gutwrenching feeling of alienation. For me, it’s the kind of book that gets under your skin, whether you want it to or not. 

Perhaps the most unsettling part of Heaven is the subversion of the “bully” trope. Typically, the reader is fed cliches such as “These kids were a product of their environment” or “They hurt others because they are hurt inside”, but this could not be less of the case in Heaven. When Eyes finds one of the bullies, a boy named Momose, and confronts him for his actions, he responds in a chillingly rational way in what could be called the most haunting section of the novel. He states that there is no real meaning behind his bullying and that people hurt each other simply because they can, ultimately emphasizing the fact that Eyes had no control over it; he was just unlucky. They had the power, and he didn’t. Kawakami doesn’t shy away from this reality by backing his words up with sad backstories or loopholes, rather giving it, straight up. 

“Everywhere you look, the strong walk all over the weak. Even those fools who think they’ve found the answers by coming up with perfect little sayings about how the world ought to be can’t escape it. Because the real world is everywhere.”

This conversation between Eyes and his bullies challenges the concept of morality: If the strong can do whatever they want, and the weak can only endure, then what does justice even mean?  What about bullying? Why do people let it happen? And even more disturbingly, why do some people–like Kojima–believe it’s something to be endured rather than fought? Heaven perfectly puts you in that space of discomfort to think about these nerve-wracking questions, while at the same time, you bawl your eyes out after realizing how cruel the world can be.

Reading this book is like joining in on an argument where no one gets to win. It’s frustrating and brilliant all at once. And maybe that’s the whole point. People might say the unresolved conflict at the end of the book makes it unsatisfying, but to me, that’s the best part. It’s just like real life. Sometimes, bullies never get caught; the bad people continue to thrive, and trauma lives on. And that’s where I think the book gets real. It suggests that bullying isn’t about the bullies or the bullied; it’s about you. The bystanders, the teachers, the readers. Are we complicit? If the world rewards those who feed off others, why be good at all? We’d all love to believe in justice, that kindness wins in the end, but Kawakami gives us reality–that sometimes, it doesn’t. And perhaps that’s why I love this book so much–it makes us face ourselves in a mirror and asks about who we really are.

Because in the end, the question isn’t 

“Why do people let bullying happen?” 

It’s “What kind of person do you want to be in a world like this?”