Yeonnam-Dong's Smiley Laundromat by Kim Jiyun | Book Review

“All these will become our memories. Don’t you think, Jindol? No matter how wealthy you are, you can’t turn back time. Even a billionaire is only young once.”

If you've ever felt lonely in a crowded city, Yeonnam-Dong's Smiley Laundromat will speak for you. Kim Jiyun's novel (translated by Shanna Tan) takes us inside a cozy 24-hour laundromat in Seoul, where a forgotten diary becomes a lifeline for the neighborhood's lonely hearts. Through scribbled confessions and quiet acts of kindness, strangers start connecting in ways that feel surprisingly real, like that late-night chat with a convenience store cashier or a knowing smile from another tired soul on the bus. It's the kind of book that makes you look twice at the people around you and wonder what stories they're carrying.

(Kalau kamu pernah merasa kesepian di tengah keramaian kota, Yeonnam-Dong's Smiley Laundromat ini bakal berasa kayak temen yang ngerti banget. Novel karya Kim Jiyun (diterjemahkan oleh Shanna Tan) ini mengajak kita masuk ke dalam laundromat 24 jam di Seoul, di mana sebuah buku harian yang ketinggalan jadi semacam pelampung buat orang-orang yang kesepian di sekitar situ. Lewat curhatan dan coretan dan kebaikan kecil yang sederhana, orang-orang asing mulai dihubungkan dengan cara yang surprisingly wholesome, kayak obrolan random jam 3 pagi sama kasir minimarket atau senyum dari sesama manusia kelelahan di dalam bus. Buku ini bikin kamu mikir, "Apa ya cerita di balik wajah-wajah yang lewat di kehidupan kita sehari-hari?")

TL;DR: A cozy Korean laundromat becomes a haven for lonely hearts when strangers bond through a shared diary. 

⚠️ SIDE EFFECTS

May cause sudden urges to:

Start a communal diary in your local coffee shop

Adopt a Jindo dog (thanks, Old Jang)

Question your entire life choices during laundry day existential crises

Text your parents "I love you" after reading generational trauma scenes

PERFECT FOR YOU IF:

✅ You’ve ever cried in public (bonus points if it was at a convenience store)

✅ Your love language is "giving unsolicited but heartfelt advice to strangers"

✅ You think capitalism is a scam but still check your bank account daily

✅ You stan quiet, introspective stories with zero explosions (maximum emotional damage)

AVOID IF YOU:

❌ Need constant action

❌ Hate feelings (this book is 90% vibes, 10% gentle emotional devastation)

❌ Believe therapy is "just talking" (the laundromat diary WILL change your mind)

❌ Still think your parents’ expectations don’t live in your head rent-free

BOOK REVIEW

Yeonnam-Dong's Smiley Laundromat by Kim Jiyun (beautifully translated by Shanna Tan) takes something as ordinary as a neighborhood laundromat and turns it into this magical space where lonely hearts connect. It all starts when someone leaves behind an olive-green diary, and before you know it, customers are pouring their hearts out on its pages, their worries, dreams, and the kind of honest advice you'd only give to a stranger. In our screen-addicted world, there's something so special about how these handwritten notes become lifelines for people drowning in loneliness, money troubles, or family drama.

In an age where we've got a thousand "friends" online but still feel alone, this book shows how the smallest human connections can matter most. Take Old Jang, this sweet retired pharmacist who's basically the neighborhood grandpa, or Mira, a young mom struggling with parenting and financial problems. Their stories (and others) remind us that sometimes the most powerful comfort comes from anonymous kindness, like when someone you'll never meet writes just the right words at just the right time. It's like that feeling when your favorite warung owner remembers your order on a bad day, tiny but meaningful.

This book also nails something we're all wrestling with these days, that constant pressure to chase success while secretly wondering if it's even making us happy. Daeju's story hit hard, he's a high-achieving plastic surgeon (Old Jang's son) who's actually drowning in debt and family expectations. Sound familiar? This novel doesn't preach answers, but it sure makes you think about what really matters when the bills are paid but you're still empty inside.

What's genius is how Jiyun weaves all these separate stories together without it feeling messy. Whether it's Mira trying to remember who she is beyond "mom" or Old Jang refusing to sell out his home to please his kids, every character gets their moment to shine. And that laundromat? It becomes a perfect little world where people wash away more than just stains, they air out their emotional baggage too. The writing's straightforward but packs these quiet "oh wow" moments that stick with you. Perfect for when you need a book that feels like a warm conversation with a wise friend.

What I love is how this book gets that sometimes healing happens alone just as much as together. Old Jang's quiet moments with his dog Jindol or puttering around his garden are just as powerful as the diary exchanges, maybe more so. It's this beautiful reminder that in our hyper-connected world, there's still magic in solitude. This novel never shouts its message, but it's there: real growth needs both community and space to breathe.

The generational stuff? Oof, that hits close to home. Daeju's whole struggle, killing himself as a plastic surgeon to afford his family's California dreams while his dad just wants to keep their home, feels ripped from real life. It's that classic clash: younger folks chasing success at all costs versus older generations who know money can't buy peace. This book doesn't take sides, just shows how both views leave people hurting. Makes you wanna call your parents or at least understand where they're coming from.

In our swipe-left, DM-me world, the laundromat's olive-green diary feels revolutionary. There's something sacred about handwritten words passed between strangers, no edits, no delete button, just raw human connection. When Mira gets advice from an anonymous neighbor or when the regulars team up against a scammer, you remember what we've lost to digital "convenience." It's like this book whispers: real life happens offline, in sticky-floored places where people actually look each other in the eye.

The laundromat is not flashy, but it sticks with you. Kim Jiyun somehow makes folding laundry and scribbling in a notebook feel so important and deep. In her afterword, she says writing this taught her two things: being vulnerable is hard, and being heard is everything. That's exactly what makes this book special. Rather than about big dramatic moments, it's more about the small ways we save each other. Perfect for when you need a literary hug that says "me too" without being cheesy about it.

(Yeonnam-Dong's Smiley Laundromat oleh Kim Jiyun (diterjemahkan dengan apik oleh Shanna Tan) adalah buku yang mengubah tempat biasa kayak laundromat jadi semacam ruang ajaib di mana orang-orang kesepian bisa berkomunikasi. Semuanya berawal dari buku harian warna hijau zaitun yang ketinggalan, dan pelanggan pun mulai curhat di dalamnya: kekhawatiran, mimpi, sampai nasihat jujur yang biasanya cuma kamu kasih ke orang asing. Di dunia yang kecanduan gadget ini, ada rasa greget dari gimana tulisan tangan itu jadi penyelamat buat mereka yang tenggelam dalam kesepian, masalah keuangan, atau drama keluarga.

Di era ketika punya seribu temen online tapi tetap merasa sendirian, buku ini nunjukin gimana hubungan manusia paling sederhana bisa berarti segalanya. Ada Old Jang, si kakek-kakek apoteker pensiunan yang jadi semacam kakek komplek kesayangan kita semua, atau Mira, ibu muda yang kelabakan ngadepin masalah finansial dan jadi orang tua. Cerita mereka (dan lainnya) ngingetin kita bahwa kadang, penghiburan terkuat justru datang dari kebaikan anon, kayak ketika tulisan orang asing di sebuah buku munculnya tepat banget pas kamu butuh. Rasanya mirip pas abang nasi goreng langganan inget pesenan kita pas lagi bad mood, hal sepele tapi bikin hati adem.

Buku ini juga bahas soal tekanan dunia modern yaitu terus-terusan mengejar kesuksesan, tapi diam-diam bertanya, "Emangnya ini bikin kita bahagia?" Kisah Daeju, dokter bedah plastik sukses (anaknya Old Jang) yang ternyata tenggelam dalam hutang dan ekspektasi keluarga, bener-bener ngena. Familiar, kan? Novel ini nggak ngasih solusi yang maksa, tapi bikin kita mikir: emangnya apa sih yang bener-bener penting ketika tabungan Udha aman tapi hati masih terasa kosong?

Yang keren itu cara Jiyun nyambungin semua cerita ini tanpa bikin pusing. Entah itu Mira yang mencoba mencari jati diri di luar status "ibu", atau Old Jang yang nggak mau jual rumah cuma buat nyenengin anak-anaknya, setiap karakter dapet panggungnya sendiri. Dan laundromatnya? Jadi semacam dunia mini tempat orang-orang nggak hanya menghilangkan noda baju, tapi juga mencuci beban emosi mereka. Gaya penulisannya sederhana, tapi punya momen-momen "wow" yang nempel di kepala. Pas banget buat dibaca ketika kamu butuh buku yang rasanya kayak ngobrol santai sama temen bijak.

Yang bikin aku suka banget, buku ini paham kalau penyembuhan nggak selalu harus bersama-sama. Momen Old Jang yang santai sama anjingnya Jindol atau pas asyik berkebun itu sama kuatnya dengan curhatan di buku harian, mungkin malah lebih dalam. Ini pengingat yang indah bahwa di dunia yang super connected ini, momen sendiri tetaplah penting. Novel ini nggak pernah maksa untuk mengirim pesan, tapi tersirat jelas: buat benar-benar tumbuh, kita butuh komunitas dan ruang untuk bernapas sendiri.

Soal konflik generasi? Wah, ini beneran ngena banget. Permasalahan Daeju yang ngoyo jadi dokter bedah plastik demi biayain mimpi keluarganya buat hidup di California, sementara ayahnya cuma pengen mempertahankan rumah mereka, rasanya kayak diambil langsung dari kehidupan nyata. Ini tuh konflik klasik: anak muda yang mengejar sukses mati-matian vs generasi tua yang udah tau uang nggak bisa membeli kedamaian. Buku ini nggak memihak, cuma menunjukkan bagaimana kedua pandangan itu sama-sama menyakitkan. Bikin pengen nelpon ortu atau setidaknya mencoba memahami sudut pandang mereka.

Di zaman yang serba swipe left dan "DM ya", buku harian hijau zaitun di laundromat ini terasa begitu revolusioner. Ada yang sakral dari tulisan tangan yang dikirimkan antar orang asing, nggak ada edit, nggak ada delete, murni hubungan manusia. Ketika Mira dapet nasihat dari tetangga anonim atau ketika para pelanggan bersatu melawan penipuan, kita diingetin lagi tentang apa yang udah hilang karena kepraktisan digital. Rasanya kayak buku ini berbisik: hidup yang sesungguhnya terjadi offline, di tempat-tempat biasa di mana orang masih saling tatap muka.

Laundromat ini emang nggak wah, tapi nempel di hati. Kim Jiyun berhasil bikin aktivitas biasa kayak melipat baju atau nulis di buku harian terasa begitu berarti dan dalam. Di catatan penutupnya, dia bilang nulis buku ini ngajarin dia dua hal: jadi terbuka itu susah, dan didengar itu segalanya. Nah, itu yang bikin buku ini spesial. Daripada fokus ke momen-momen dramatis, buku ini lebih tentang cara-cara sederhana kita dalam menyelamatkan satu sama lain. Pas banget buat dibaca ketika kita butuh pelukan yang bilang "aku juga ngerti" tanpa efek lebay.)

“Jindol, must we throw away our precious memories just because they don’t make us money?”

THINGS I LOVE

2. And the characters? So. Freaking. Real. You’ve got Old Jang, who’s basically that sweet grandpa everyone wishes they had, and Mira, a mom trying to keep it together when life feels like too much. Their struggles like money stress, parenting guilt, mental health aren’t glamorized or sugarcoated. They just are, and that’s what makes them so relatable.

3. Also, can we appreciate how this book low-key calls out society’s obsession with "success"? Like, yeah, money’s important, but is it everything? The story gently pushes you to ask yourself: What actually makes me happy? Spoiler: It’s probably not that fancy job title or keeping up with the trends. It’s the quiet moments like sharing a laugh with a neighbor or tending to a plant that end up mattering most.

(1. Rasanya kayak pelukan hangat dalam bentuk buku. Laundromat ini jadi semacam tempat nyaman di mana orang-orang nggak cuma mencuci baju, tapi juga membilas sedikit kegalauan mereka. Buku harian yang dipakai bareng itu? Perfect banget. Ada yang spesial dari cara orang asing saling meninggalkan catatan kecil, entah itu nasihat atau sekadar tulisan "Aku ngerti kok." Di dunia di mana kesepian udah kayak wabah, buku ini ngingetin kita bahwa koneksi terkecil (seperti coretan di buku) bisa jadi penyembuh terbaik.

2. Karakter-karakternya? Nyaris nyata banget. Ada Old Jang, kakek-kakek baik yang kayak tokoh kakek idaman semua orang, dan Mira, seorang ibu yang berusaha tetap kuat meski hidup terasa berat. Masalah mereka kayak stres finansial, rasa bersalah sebagai orang tua, kesehatan mental, nggak diromantisasi. Mereka apa adanya, dan itu yang bikin kita bisa relate.

3. Buku ini juga low-key nyindir obsesi masyarakat soal "kesuksesan". Iya, duit itu penting, tapi emangnya itu segalanya? Ceritanya bikin kita bertanya: Sebenernya apa sih yang bikin aku bahagia? Spoiler: Bukan gelar mentereng atau ngikutin tren. Tapi momen-momen sederhana kayak ketawa bareng tetangga atau merawat tanaman yang akhirnya berarti.)

THINGS I DON'T LIKE

There’s one story in here that kinda misses the mark? I won’t spoil it, but compared to the rest of the book, it feels a little disconnected, like it wandered in from a different collection. The tone’s off, and it doesn’t tie into the whole "community heals us" vibe as smoothly. It’s not bad, but after such a strong, emotional journey, the ending left me wanting something more whole.

(Ada satu cerita yang agak nggak nyambung. Aku nggak mau spoiler, tapi dibanding bagian lain, cerita ini kayak nyasar dari buku yang berbeda. Nada ceritanya beda dan kurang cocok dengan vibe "komunitas yang menyembuhkan" yang diceritakan sepanjang bukunya. Nggak jelek sih, tapi setelah perjalanan emosional yang kuat, endingnya bikin aku pengin sesuatu yang lebih nyatu.)

CONCLUSION

Yeonnam-Dong's Smiley Laundromat doesn't try to blow your mind with crazy plot twists. Because it's more like a warm hug from someone who gets it. Kim Jiyun shows how healing sneaks up on us in everyday places, whether it's through a stranger's advice in a diary or just sharing silence while folding laundry. By the end, you'll believe (at least a little) that no one's as alone as they feel. Perfect for anyone who's ever needed a reminder that small connections can be life rafts especially when life feels like a spin cycle.

(Nggak perlu ngarep plot twist dramatis dari Yeonnam-Dong's Smiley Laundromat. Soalnya buku ini lebih kayak pelukan hangat dari seseorang yang benar-benar paham kamu. Kim Jiyun tunjukin gimana penyembuhan bisa datang dari tempat paling biasa, lewat saran random di buku harian, atau bahkan dari momen diam sambil lipat baju bareng. Habis baca, kamu bakal percaya (sedikit-sedikit lah) bahwa sebenarnya nggak ada yang benar-benar sendirian. Cocok banget buat kamu yang butuh diingetin bahwa koneksi kecil bisa jadi penyelamat, apalagi pas hidup lagi bikin pusing kayak lagi diputer di mesin cuci.)