The OF Blog: Haruki Murakami
Showing posts with label Haruki Murakami. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Haruki Murakami. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

And on the penultimate day before Christmas, ten mini-reviews to delight even anti-squirrelists

Hard to believe, but before the week is over, I will have written something about every single 2014 release that I have listed here.  Unfortunately, I haven't had much energy for reviewing at length, reserving that for finishing out the Premio Alfaguara winners (still have three more to write over the next eight days), so here are ten paragraph-length capsule reviews of books that I finished earlier this year.  It's an eclectic book, from a story of an anarchist society to reality TV/sex tape satire and all parts in-between.  Now for the brief thoughts on these diverse works:


Margaret Killjoy, A Country of Ghosts

Lately, there have been too many dystopian novels for my taste.  Therefore, it was refreshing to learn of a narrative about an anarchist utopia set in a different world under attack from imperialist forces.  Although there were a few times that I had some mild disagreements with Killjoy's presentation of anarchist principles (then again, I'm more sympathetic to syndicalism, which does shape my attitudes somewhat), for the most part I found his treatment of his characters and their plights to be well-developed, with a good narrative flow to help maintain a nice tension throughout the novel.  Although the prose was relatively weak in comparison to thematic and character development, it was only a minor hiccup in what was otherwise an enjoyable novel.


Christopher Beha, Arts & Entertainments

I should have hated this novel.  It focuses on two recent pop culture developments, "reality" TV and "leaked" sex tapes, that really are passé to me.  Yet, somehow, Arts & Entertainments ended up being an engrossing read.  Perhaps it is because Beha manages, through the complex character of "Handsome" Eddie Hartley, simultaneously to explore just why people are drawn into whoring themselves out for fame and (unlikely) fortune while satirizing the industry that in turn exploits and manipulates both participants and audience alike.  The scenes are sometimes too much to believe, yet ultimately by novel's end, there is something of substance to be found lurking beneath the rather putrid excrement of such pop trash.  It certainly had a far greater depth of character and theme than I was prepared for after reading plot descriptions.


Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

This tale of a 36 year-old man who, at the prompting of a woman he encounters, embarks upon a redemptive pilgrimage of sorts to find out just why four high school friends of his suddenly abandoned him in college is one of the shorter, more taut Murakami novels that I've read.  There are enough several oddities and fantastical elements in here to satiate those who expect such from Murakami, but this was a darker, more reflective tale, one in which the personal quest reveals several tragedies as well as moments of reconciliation.  When I finished reading it back in August, I was uncertain what to make of this novel, as it absorbed my thoughts while reading it, yet when I finished it, I did not have a firm concept of what I thought about how well or poorly Murakami executed his themes on friendship and the ties that can unbind.  Four months later, I still am uncertain if he wrote one of his better works or if this latest novel is one of his more muted yet spectacular failures.  It certainly seems to be the sort of novel which morphs upon a re-reading.


Matthew Thomas, We Are Not Ourselves

Thomas's debut novel is purportedly an Irish-American multi-generational family history, but the story centers around Eileen Tumulty (later, Leary) and her complex, sometimes fractious relationship with her husband Ed.  Their battles and love, seen over the course of the mid-20th century, take on surprising new forms as Ed becomes afflicted with Alzheimer's.  Thomas shows a deft hand in constructing Eileen and Ed's lives, as their different world-views and personalities are developed superbly.  The reader is given a vivid yet complex mosaic of their lives and by the time the novel concludes, there is not as much a sense of disappointment or tragedy as there is of witnessing two lives well-lived, each following, more or less, his or her heart's desires.  We Are Not Ourselves is one of the best debut novels I've read this year.


Nina Allan, The Race

A confession:  I do not really know what to make of Allan's first novel-length work.  It is more a mosaic than a unified novel, in which elements of four separate novellas merge in interesting fashions and shape reader understandings of what transpired in an earlier section.  This can make for some interesting textual interplay, but at times, especially when this particular reader read this only once, it can be trying to recall just precisely how each section connects to the others.  There are certainly elements of SF and murder/mystery in here, along with what might be meta-commentaries on these genres.  But there seems to be both something lurking in the depths and something missing that would tie these disparate elements together even more tautly.  The Race is one of the more intriguing debut efforts that I have read this year, but I am not certain if it isn't also one of the more fundamentally flawed in terms of its overall execution.


David Mitchell, The Bone Clocks (longlisted for the 2014 Man Booker Prize)

Despite being longlisted for the Booker Prize, The Bone Clocks might be one of Mitchell's weaker books in terms of structure and plot development.  Divided into several sections, reminiscent of his most famous work, Cloud Atlas, The Bone Clocks suffers whenever the focus shifts to its more supernatural storyline.  Although Mitchell is clever in re-introducing several characters from his earlier novels, he fails more often then not in crafting a cohesive meta-narrative.  The section detailing the battle between opposing supernatural "guardian"/"occult society" forces felt clichéd and hackneyed, dampening the narrative energy for most of the second half of the novel.  Although there were some bright moments throughout the narrative, on the whole, The Bone Clocks felt disjointed.  Certainly one of Mitchell's least successful narrative offerings.


Hilary Mantel, The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher

I greatly enjoyed Mantel's two most recent historical novels on Thomas Cromwell and Henry VIII (both won Booker Prizes), but I was uncertain as to whether or not the richness of setting and characterization would translate well to the short story milieu.  For the most part, Mantel does an outstanding job constructing her stories, as each tale feels different in tone and setting from the others, yet there is a uniform quality of characterization and prose to each of them.  Although there were a couple of stories that felt slighter than the others, this is perhaps as much a matter of reader preference as anything else.  Mantel is certainly one of the better stylists writing today and this is on full display in The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher.


John Darnielle, Wolf in White Van (longlisted for the 2014 National Book Award for Fiction)

Darnielle is more famous for his work as the singer/songwriter for The Mountain Goats, but here in his debut novel, Wolf in White Van, he manages to parley his talents as a songwriter into the longer novel medium.  It is a deceptive novel, one that lays out its central premise within its opening pages, only to revisit and rework that premise in subsequent chapters.  It is a combination of a live-action role-playing game and something darker, something that lurks within the recesses of the Trace Italian game designer's mind.  As the novel progresses, the setting deepens, with some surprising twists and turns.  Darnielle is a very talented writer, and several scenes are effective in part due to how well he constructs and narrates them.  Although the ending was relatively weaker than preceding sections, Wolf in White Van was one of the more entertaining debut novels that I've read this year.


Ben Lerner, 10:04

The success, or failure, of Lerner's second novel, 10:04, depends upon how readily the reader is willing to separate quasi-fact from fiction.  Like his previous novel, Leaving the Atocha Station, there is a semi-direct authorial stand-in present in the main character.  At times, this perceived semi-factual viewpoint adds a sense of veracity to the narrative, but at other times, the artifice is too self-conscious, leaving a slightly disagreeable aftertaste of navel gazing.  This is a shame, as Lerner is a talented writer, able to say more with a few pithy sentences than what many authors manage to achieve with pages of description or dialogue.  The premise of 10:04 was interesting for the most part, but Lerner's penchant for self-reflection weakens the narrative's flow at some of the story's more crucial points.  Certainly one of the more mixed reactions that I had to any 2014 release read this year.


Jay Lake, Last Plane to Heaven

Lake's stories, both novel-length and short fiction alike, have been a mixed bag for me.  Often, he would create a vivid setting peopled with some interesting characters, only for there to be something about the story's structure or its prose (or vice versa) that would hinder my enjoyment of the unfolding story.  In his last, posthumous collection, Last Plane to Heaven, there are a wealth of diverse tales that are a testament to his creativity.  However, there are some several clunkers that just do not feel as well-realized as his more successful tales.  At times, it was hard to believe that the same writer penned these tales, as the quality, not to mention the tone and presentation, varied so much from story to story.  Yet there are enough good tales to justify giving this collection a chance.  Just do not be surprised if there are several tales that will do nothing for you.

Sunday, June 09, 2013

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

Of course it's all just a hypothesis, Aomame told herself as she walked.  But it's the most compelling hypothesis I can produce at the moment.  I'll have to act according to this one, I suppose, until a more compelling hypothesis comes along.  Otherwise, I could end up being thrown to the ground somewhere.  If only for that reason, I'd better give an appropriate name to this new situation in which I find myself.  There's a need, too, for a special name in order to distinguish between this present world and the former world in which the police carried old-fashioned revolvers.  Even cats and dogs need names.  A newly changed world must need one, too.

1Q84 – that's what I'll call this new world, Aomame decided.

Q is for "question mark."  A world that bears a question.

Aomame nodded to herself as she walked along.

Like it or not, I'm here now, in the year 1Q84.  The 1984 that I knew no longer exists.  It's 1Q84 now.  The air has changed, the scene has changed.  I have to adapt to this world-with-a-question-mark as soon as I can.  Like an animal released into a new forest.  In order to protect myself and survive, I have to learn the rules of this place and adapt myself to them. (pp. 158-159 e-book edition, Ch. 9)

I first read Haruki Murakami's 1Q84 soon after its US release in late October 2011.  At the time, I found it difficult to summarize my thoughts on this sprawling book (it is nearly a thousand pages in hardcover and just over 1200 e-book pages on my iPad), as it covered so many things, some that I thought were done excellently, others that I thought were underdeveloped, and a few that just flat-out baffled me.  So I eschewed writing a formal review then, thinking that a re-read might provide a clearer picture of the story (stories?) being told.  Now that this novel is up for the 2013 IMPAC Dublin Literary Prize, it was a good time to re-read the book and see if my initial impressions had changed.

1Q84 is the most "speculative" of the shortlisted books.  It transpires in 1984 Japan and then in a place, pointedly noted as being non-parallel, of two moons, Little People, and a story that seems to travel through a semi-permeable membrane that separates the two worlds.  It is the story of a former child member of a religious cult-turned-assassin of abusive men, Aomame, and her search after twenty years for a man, Tengo, who once shared a mysterious moment with her when they were ten.  There are events such as a mysterious pregnancy, an Exxon Tiger billboard, and an unusual murder-mystery that make 1Q84 one of the most visible weird fictions to be released in the past five years.

The novel is divided into three chronological sections that span roughly the Spring through Autumn of 1984.  There are alternating chapters presented in limited third-person PoV that focus on Aomame and Tengo's experiences in both the "real" world and in the world of 1Q84.  Murakami makes copious use of literary and cultural symbols to make symbolic and (mostly) literal connections between the worlds.  One particular reference that may be more obscure to Anglo-American reasons is the "town of cats."  Seen from Tengo's perspective, the alternate world is not Aomame's "1Q84" but instead a place that reminds him strongly of pre-World War II writer Hagiwara Sakutarō's "Town of Cats" (readers wanting to read this story can find it in the anthology The Weird, which incidentally lists Murakami as being influenced by his work.  That note coincidentally was written some months before the US publication of 1Q84).  For Tengo, this "cat town" world was a strange, alienating place in which the "Little People," who are mentioned in the novel Air Chrysalis that he has ghostwritten for a 17 year-old girl, Fuka-Eri, lurk behind a series of mysteries.  

There is certainly an aura of menace in the novel's last third, as Aomame and Tengo come closer to identifying the mysteries that have invaded their lives.  Murakami ambitiously attempts to meld a weird, metatextual setting with elements taken from thrillers and for most of the time, this unusual pairing succeeds.  The slower, more contemplative pace of the first two parts gives way to a quicker-tempo, more action-packed final section.  Although not all of the mysteries are explained (if anything, explanation in a story such as 1Q84 would serve to dampen its appeal), there certainly is a nice tying-together of several symbolic objects within the course of Aomame and Tengo's eventual reunion.  Yet it is almost too little, too late, as there are some lengthy longeurs in the middle chapters that almost derail the novel.

1Q84 is one of those "too much" novels, at least for sections lasting sometimes longer than a hundred pages.  There are too many interesting and quirky characters for each individual one to have the impact that similar characters had in some of Murakami's earlier work.  There are a plethora of mysterious objects whose symbolic purpose in regards to the plot remain to be deciphered, perhaps too many for the narrative to handle adequately.  The pasts of both Aomame and Tengo are intriguing, but sometimes too much backstory had to be introduced for it to be as effective as it otherwise could have been.

Yet despite this sense that there is a surfeit of things that in moderation would made for great narrative elements, 1Q84 is a very good work.  Although at times it labors under the weight of its massive narrative, ultimately the reading experience belies that earlier sense that it is at times bloated and turgid.  Murakami manages to strike a precarious balance between exposition and leaving tantalizing mysteries for the readers to puzzle out at their leisure.  Although it is not quite at the level of his best-known works, 1Q84 is one of the better 2011 releases and its inclusion on the 2013 IMPAC Dublin Literary Prize shortlist does not stick out like a sore thumb.  If this is damning with faint praise, there are a whole host of fictions that could wish to be so damned.
 
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