Spark Joy with a Life-Changing Manga from Marie Kondo

I found, however, Kondo’s philosophy makes a lot of sense as explained in this lighthearted story about a hapless salarywoman, Chiaki, in danger of drowning in her own possessions. Kondo’s response is not to berate Chiaki, but to praise her—and her stuff. Right there, she sets herself apart from every other professional organizer ever.
We associate clutter with shame, with being undisciplined and disorganized, and certainly that’s how Chiaki feels about herself: she’s so embarrassed about her messy apartment she never invites people over. When her hot neighbor drops by without warning one night, he does judge her, turning up his nose at not just Chiaki’s apartment, but also Chiaki herself. And that—not the fact of living among mountains of stuff and never being able to find anything—is what gets Chiaki off the floor (literally), and onto her computer to find an organizer.
Through sheer beginner’s luck (or maybe the magic of manga), Chiaki stumbles on Marie Kondo and hires her sight unseen. She’s expecting someone who will go through her stuff, make her throw most of it out, and get lots of pretty boxes to hold the rest. Instead, Kondo starts the process with thinking, not tossing.
In fact, the first session seems like just a girl chat, with Kondo admiring Chiaki’s espresso maker and drawing out the backstory to her clutter. It turns out whenever she likes a guy, Chiaki takes on his hobbies and interests, which means buying a lot of things she keeps around after the romance fizzles. Kondo doesn’t shame her for this. Instead, she tells Chiaki to visualize what she wants her apartment to be like. And then she leaves.

That’s actually a pretty profound insight. “Getting rid of stuff” is negative, but “Having a nice apartment I can invite my friends to” is a positive goal. Kondo’s admonition to keep only those things that “spark joy” is the same idea, reduced to the level of the individual object: Rather than asking Chiaki to pick out what she dislikes, or no longer needs, Kondo tells her to pick the objects that make her happy and discard the rest. It’s like the photographic negative of the usual decluttering advice.
Looked at this way, Kondo’s advice to thank items and throw them away makes more sense. The thanking is really for Chiaki’s benefit, not the socks’—it allows her to close out that period of her life and move on without the physical baggage. It acknowledges the positive aspects of the object—”This helped make me what I am today”—but clears the way to get rid of it if it is no longer useful.
In her own way, Kondo is as hard-headed and practical as any reality-TV organizer, but she also acknowledges the emotions connected with material objects, whether they remind Chiaki of a happier time (so she wants to keep them around), a sadder time (so she doesn’t want to deal with getting rid of them), or an unfulfilled goal.
Because of that, Kondo advises Chiaki to deal with sentimental items last. That not only puts off the difficult decisions until later in the process, it allows Chiaki to internalize the Kondo method. By the time she gets to those final objects, she has learned new ways of thinking.
Like many instructional manga, The Life-Changing Manga of Tidying Up uses humor to get most of its points across. Chiaki and her neighbor are over-the-top characters, but the exaggeration, as well as Chiaki’s perpetual befuddlement, help Kondo deliver her message. As a result, this manga, complete in one volume, is an entertaining read and a useful guide to a more positive approach to decluttering and organizing your home.
The Life-Changing Manga of Tidying Up is available now.