Listen to the dramatic reading by Creatrix Tiara:

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i, Marie Kondo here. Author of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and host of the new Netflix show Tidying Up.

I know you guys are not used to listening to a small-framed Asian woman speak with authority, but I’m going to say this once and for all: You can keep all your fucking books, you ungrateful motherfuckers. All I wanted was to spark a little joy in your fucking miserable lives, which you’ve tried to make fulfilling by purchasing fucking stuff. But fuck me, I guess, for mentioning that I like to have only 30 books in my house.

See, the problem here is that some of you have interpreted my warm voice, bubbly attitude, and cheery disposition as a surefire sign that I will personally come to your home and build a bonfire out of your unread copies of those J. K. Rowling novels she wrote under a pseudonym that sounds like the name of a Hogwarts professor. Your ex-boyfriend gave you those for your anniversary three years ago. Had you ever mentioned wanting to read those books? Not really. But you did once tell your ex you were a Hufflepuff, so surely they must have some emotional value to you. What kind of fucking monster am I for suggesting you maybe consider donating those books to a local library or thrift shop? So yeah, go off. Enjoy the adventures of Cormoran Fucking Strike. Yeah, that’s the name of the main character. Buckle up, buddy.

The KonMari method is about decluttering and organizing based on categories and on what works for you. What brings you joy. When I said I personally liked having 30 books in my house, I meant it because that’s what I like. It was a fucking suggestion, not a threat. What do you think I’m going to do with your unread copies of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels? Yeah, you haven’t read those but you’ve heard the show is great. Have you watched that yet? Of course not, because there’s a literal mountain of books blocking your view of the TV! So what do you think I’m gonna do? Put them in a sack like some kind of decluttering Grinch? And then what, take them home? I already have all the books I want in my house, you absolute morons! It’s 30, but that’s a number for ME. You can have as many books as you fucking want!

I only wanted to make you happy. My advice was, “Get rid of the books that intimidate you and make you feel like your reading list is never ending.” They exist! Stop lying to yourselves. Don’t tell me you’ll start that David McCullough book on Harry Truman your dad sent you apropos of nothing. Did you know he’s from Independence, Missouri? It’s in the first five pages. Of course you don’t, because you haven’t read the book, so I’m sorry I suggested you get rid of the monolithic tome that’s been sitting on your kitchen counter—on your kitchen counter!—for two years!

I’m sorry you’re not used to my patient and gentle approach. Perhaps I should come to your home as they do on your American show Hoarders and shame the shit out of you for keeping all those New Yorkers you never read under the coffee table. You know what coffee tables are for? COFFEE, not unread David Remnick editorials. Oh, oh, you do read them? THE CARTOONS DON’T COUNT. If they bring you joy, follow them on Instagram.

Maybe one day life will present us with the opportunity where you’ll give me some advice. I don’t see how, seeing as I am already a very successful woman and you’re a fucking greedy nerd who gets sore at the thought of sharing an object you are not putting to use, i.e. your fucking books, with someone who might actually read them, but let’s pretend nonetheless. Maybe one day you’ll tell me, “Marie, going blonde did wonders for my self-esteem.” To which I’ll react by murdering every blonde person in my life because I refuse to understand how something that worked for you might maybe, perhaps work for me if I gave it a chance.

And while we’re talking about my extremely successful show, I’m done with all of your useless husbands who say things like “this girl is for real” when I ask them to get rid of their useless novelty t-shirts. Oh, I’m sorry. I am a published fucking author on the subject of decluttering. I am 34 years old and I have my own TV show about this. Of course I’m for fucking real, Vince. Ex-fucking-cuse me for suggesting your “Female Body Inspector” t-shirt may not be as precious as you think it is.

Joy,

Marie Fucking Kondo