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2021: I really wanted to give this a 4/5 overall, but the objectifying male gaze, horribly unresolved plotlines, and the fact that the entire plot hinges on two people who held hands ONE TIME WHEN THEY WERE TEN actually being the pinnacle of true love...?! means that it stays firmly at 3/5.
The novel starts off very promisingly. Aomame is a secret assassin who goes around killing men who have raped and assaulted women and therefore "need to disappear" - totally into that. Tengo gets wrapped up in a plot to ghost-edit/write a novel under a psuedonym, which promotes a young female author into an award-winning spotlight. I was solidly into that too.
The male gaze is overwhelming throughout the book, and almost made me quit a number of times. I'm not going to pretend that I know what ALL women want, but I have to say, I was completely thrown when assassin and all around badass Aomame started having thoughts such as, "If only she had more cleavage to expose!" (which is a direct quote from her perspective in the book). Nah, Murakami, I don't buy it. Did he not interview any woman that's ever had a sleepover ever? Yikes.
The other biggest issue here is the treatment of Fuka-Eri, the 17-year-old original author of the novel that Tengo is rewriting, and (you guessed it!) ultimately has sex with. Reminder: Tengo is 30. This is OFFICIALLY creepy, despite the fact that the age of consent is 13 (THIRTEEN!!!!) in Japan and therefore technically legal. Murakami explains away this problematic encounter...by using Fuka-Eri as simply a passageway for Tengo to impregnate...Aomame...without ever touching her. Okay.
I am also frustrated that I just spent HOURS of my life reading a book that is only 3/5 - if I am going to dedicate 1150 pages to a story, I want it to be worthwhile! That being said, I did enjoy the philosophical questions that Murakami asks (how DO you know if you're in an alternate universe? What DOES it mean to die without leaving any legacy? How long should you wait for true love?) I also appreciated that there were relatively few characters for the 1150 pages, which means that all of them get very fleshed out and a lot of subplots are thoroughly explored (shoutout to the dowager, my favorite character!)
The entire novel would have fallen apart if this had taken place in a world with cell phones or the internet. Every time one of the characters ran into a problem, I said, "well why doesn't he just google it" or "well why doesn't she just call her on her cell phone" and was promptly reminded that neither of these existed in 1984. When Ushikawa goes on a stakeout, he decides that it would be "too difficult to set up a phone" so he's just going to use the local pay phone. And then he needs to get an "ample amount of film" - throwback!
Aomame and Tengo alternate narrating the chapters, which works very well up until around page 750, when a third narrator is introduced. The last 200+ pages ends up being a clunky overlapping timelines, where Murakami wants to make sure you get everything from the third narrator's POV as well, so he doubles back and makes you read about events you already know have happened. It's a real drag in the final pages of a climax that had the potential to be spectacular.
Don't get me started on all of the questions that Murakami DOESN'T answer in this book. It's like he's trying to send a big FUCK YOU to Chekhov by doing the opposite of following his principle of introducing a gun. The actual gun introduced never gets fired. No idea who The Little People actually are or if they actually existed. Who was the fucking NHK collector that kept tormenting Aomame and Ushikawa? No one knows. The list goes on and on.
I mean, in case I haven't said it enough, the very first conversation that Aomame and Tengo have after literally traveling to an alternate universe and Tengo discovering that he is going to be a dad is, "are my boobs too small for you??" which just put me right over the edge. Take off your porno hat, Murakami. I'm going to give [b:Kafka on the Shore|4929|Kafka on the Shore|Haruki Murakami|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1429638085l/4929._SY75_.jpg|6191072] one final chance, but if I get even a whiff of objectifying women's breasts, I'm out and done with him forever.
The novel starts off very promisingly. Aomame is a secret assassin who goes around killing men who have raped and assaulted women and therefore "need to disappear" - totally into that. Tengo gets wrapped up in a plot to ghost-edit/write a novel under a psuedonym, which promotes a young female author into an award-winning spotlight. I was solidly into that too.
The male gaze is overwhelming throughout the book, and almost made me quit a number of times. I'm not going to pretend that I know what ALL women want, but I have to say, I was completely thrown when assassin and all around badass Aomame started having thoughts such as, "If only she had more cleavage to expose!" (which is a direct quote from her perspective in the book). Nah, Murakami, I don't buy it. Did he not interview any woman that's ever had a sleepover ever? Yikes.
The other biggest issue here is the treatment of Fuka-Eri, the 17-year-old original author of the novel that Tengo is rewriting, and (you guessed it!) ultimately has sex with. Reminder: Tengo is 30. This is OFFICIALLY creepy, despite the fact that the age of consent is 13 (THIRTEEN!!!!) in Japan and therefore technically legal. Murakami explains away this problematic encounter...by using Fuka-Eri as simply a passageway for Tengo to impregnate...Aomame...without ever touching her. Okay.
I am also frustrated that I just spent HOURS of my life reading a book that is only 3/5 - if I am going to dedicate 1150 pages to a story, I want it to be worthwhile! That being said, I did enjoy the philosophical questions that Murakami asks (how DO you know if you're in an alternate universe? What DOES it mean to die without leaving any legacy? How long should you wait for true love?) I also appreciated that there were relatively few characters for the 1150 pages, which means that all of them get very fleshed out and a lot of subplots are thoroughly explored (shoutout to the dowager, my favorite character!)
The entire novel would have fallen apart if this had taken place in a world with cell phones or the internet. Every time one of the characters ran into a problem, I said, "well why doesn't he just google it" or "well why doesn't she just call her on her cell phone" and was promptly reminded that neither of these existed in 1984. When Ushikawa goes on a stakeout, he decides that it would be "too difficult to set up a phone" so he's just going to use the local pay phone. And then he needs to get an "ample amount of film" - throwback!
Aomame and Tengo alternate narrating the chapters, which works very well up until around page 750, when a third narrator is introduced. The last 200+ pages ends up being a clunky overlapping timelines, where Murakami wants to make sure you get everything from the third narrator's POV as well, so he doubles back and makes you read about events you already know have happened. It's a real drag in the final pages of a climax that had the potential to be spectacular.
Don't get me started on all of the questions that Murakami DOESN'T answer in this book. It's like he's trying to send a big FUCK YOU to Chekhov by doing the opposite of following his principle of introducing a gun. The actual gun introduced never gets fired. No idea who The Little People actually are or if they actually existed. Who was the fucking NHK collector that kept tormenting Aomame and Ushikawa? No one knows. The list goes on and on.
I mean, in case I haven't said it enough, the very first conversation that Aomame and Tengo have after literally traveling to an alternate universe and Tengo discovering that he is going to be a dad is, "are my boobs too small for you??" which just put me right over the edge. Take off your porno hat, Murakami. I'm going to give [b:Kafka on the Shore|4929|Kafka on the Shore|Haruki Murakami|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1429638085l/4929._SY75_.jpg|6191072] one final chance, but if I get even a whiff of objectifying women's breasts, I'm out and done with him forever.