Haruki Murakami- 1Q84- Book Three

1Q84: Book Three

Vintage

Haruki Murakami

2010 (Japan)/ 2011 (English)
Translated by Jay Rubin

Other Murakami Reviews- A Wild Sheep Chase - Dance Dance Dance - Underground - Sputnik Sweetheart - after the quake - After Dark - Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman - What I Talk About When I Talk About Running - 1Q84- Books I & II - Book III - Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage - Strange Library

'Loneliness becomes an acid that eats away at you.'

The third and final volume of Haruki Murakami's latest magnum opus picks up where the second left off, finding our two main characters Aomame and Tengo both in their own form of isolated limbo, trying to make sense of the bizarre events that have changed their lives forever in this apparent parallel world. After the surreal events surrounding her murder (or, more accurately, assisted suicide) of the supernatural leader of religious cult Sakigake, Aomame spends every day alone in her safe house. The one thing that keeps her going is the thought of once again seeing Tengo, our second lead character, who presently spends his days at his comatose father's bedside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious vision he witnessed at the end of the last book. I could try and summarize more of the plot than that, but it just wouldn't make any sense to someone who hasn't read it. Thankfully, Murakami has that covered...

Perhaps in an attempt to calm things down and take a more logical, step-by-step approach to explaining the crazy events that have occurred already, Murakami adds a third perspective to the proceedings in the form of Ushikawa, previously a supporting character who here exists in the role of a private investigator, hired by the religious cult to find Aomame, and who exists as a plot device to make more sense of the plot and also to advance it. Compared to some of Murakami's earlier epic and surreal novels (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle springs to mind) the result is a more tempered, understandable approach that loses a little of the indefinable surrealism associated with Murakami's long form novels, instead taking certain aspects from his shorter work (such as Norwegian Wood) to focus on the relationship between the two main characters. Unlike Books One and Two, which can be vaguely categorized as a post-modern odyssey, Book Three is essentially a love story; Murakami's portrayal of two star-crossed lovers, escaping a universe created for them.

While 1Q84 as it was was an amazing novel, this third and final volume transforms it even further into a beautiful and magical tale with a clearer and more positive conclusion than the author normally offers. It may be a case of him acknowledging the fact that Murakami's is now undeniably an international superstar author, or the fact that these books combined tell the longest story he's told, but the conclusion is remarkably clear and contains aspects of the author at his best and most thematic, while standing out as unique and new. It's so rich and full of ideas and metaphor that I doubt that one reading is anywhere near enough to allow me to consider myself a student of it, but I took a lot from it, including masses of sheer enjoyment. At risk of hyperbole, surely the best piece of fiction of this millennium yet.

George R. R. Martin- A Song of Ice and Fire 02- A Clash of Kings

I'm unabashedly a worshiper of fiction, and it doesn't have to be a book or a comic book, I love films, TV shows and computer games too (although less and less of the latter as I get older). As a result I kind of swing between spending more time on each particular medium every so often, often to the extent where I leave one entirely, and true to that I hadn't seen a film in months. However, the three-headed pendulum has swung in the other direction and I'm back on the motion picture bandwagon. All of this is my long-winded reason for why I haven't written one of these in a short while, so here's a short but simple one to get me back into the swing of it. Get it? Swing, pendulum... I'll get my coat.

A Song of Ice and Fire: A Clash of Kings

Harper Voyager

George R.R. Martin

1998

Game of Thrones - A Clash of Kings - A Storm of Swords: Book One: Steel and Snow -  A Storm of Swords: Book Two: Blood and Gold - A Feast for Crows

“I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

With only a month or so to go until the second series of Game of Thrones arrives on television, I gave into the temptation to spoil the plot events somewhat by reading through the very long source material, A Clash of Kings. For me this was somewhat of a risk, because I have to admit that I enjoyed the TV version of A Game of Thrones more than I did the printed original. In hindsight, perhaps it was inevitable that the fantastic plot twists and turns that gave me so much enjoyment on screen would lose their luster once witnessed for the second time, effecting my ability to become emotionally invested in the characters when I already knew their fate. Then again, after reading this book I'm very tempted to settle on the alternative idea that A Game of Thrones just wasn't as good a book as it could've been, and that George R.R. Martin just needed more time to really get to grips with the huge universe he created. I suggest this because I think A Clash of Kings was far, far better than it's predecessor.

The second book in the saga takes the characters, plots and scenery from the first, and turns the intensity up a notch, making for an immensely more satisfying novel. Despite being a huge text, and despite containing its own fair share of page-padding (through the typical Lord of the Rings-esque inclusion of details about characters and places that have no bearing on anything), it was easy to get through in a relatively short amount of time. Martin's choice to focus each chapter on one particular character at a time is essential to this, as it constantly keeps things fresh by catapulting the reader back and forth over the fiction universe, adding layers of depth with each new development, and creating tension and anticipation as the reader waits for different characters to cross paths.

Ultimately this is a massive, bloody and brutal fantasy soap opera, full of adrenaline and it's own fair share of mystique. In this installment Martin advances the many plot threads of the first book to varying degrees, bringing forth the fantasy aspect of magic and mythology that was somewhat lacking before, but without going over the top. It's not exactly high-literature, but it is high-octane, and I can safely say that I've been fully converted to the series and will be reading it until the very end, whenever that might be.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 03- Equal Rites

I finished reading George R.R. Martin's A Clash of Kings, so I'd better write something about that pretty sharpish. I've also been reading through Garth Ennis' Preacher comic book, I picked up every volume second hand not too long ago and I've finished all but one. I wasn't planning on doing any comic book reviews on this blog, but I might have to make an exception for this one. In the meantime, some more comedy fantasy from everybody's (well, mine) favourite knight of the realm...

Equal Rites

Corgi

Terry Pratchett
1987

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

"Hmm. Granpone the White. He's going to be Granpone the Grey if he doesn't take better care of his laundry. Aye tell you, girl, a white magician is just a black magician with a good housekeeper."

After kicking off his Discworld series with a two-part adventure full of action and adventure, bearded wonder Terry Pratchett quickly looked to prove that his comedic universe could play host to a much wider range of themes than he had begun with, with Equal Rites, an interesting curio that isn't considered a classic of the series but defiantly remains relevant. Essentially Equal Rites is a fantasy story about feminism and equality, wrapped up in a fun, colourful coming of age tale regarding the merits of wizardry verses witchcraft. The story regards a young girl named Esk, who, according to magical tradition, really should be a witch but instead due to a technical mishap (involving misplaced assumptions of gender during childbirth), has been given the powers of a wizard. For Esk, her family, and the philosophical beliefs of witches and wizards everywhere, this is a bit of a problem.

On the Discworld, the differences between the powers of witches and wizards clearly represent the stereotypical differences between the mindsets of men and women and the use of power in general- the wizards are power hungry, hierarchical, trigger-happy and full of explosive power, while the witches possess with a far more psychological understanding of the powers they posses, so reverential of the repercussions of their magical actions that ideally they use them as little as possible. It's an easy metaphor to understand, and it works well in this story but not without a little patronizing bluntness, but remains important throughout the series in the future and these ideas are established under more solid ground. Anyway, as Esk has the powers of a wizard, she seeks an education at the only place a wizard should learn- the campus of Unseen University, located in Ankh Morpork, home and power center of wizards everywhere- at least the ones worth mentioning, anyway- hundreds of miles away from Esk's rural country village. Not surprisingly, her entrance doesn't go smoothly, and, as many of the early Discworld books do, culminate with the threat of horrific other-worldly Lovecraftian monsters trying to break through the dimensions to do presumably very nasty things.

While the message of the book is clear (and gives plenty of credit to the author for the fact he was willing to expand his universe beyond sheer comedy and adventure so early on) upon rereading this book I didn't find it to be particularly thrilling at all. Surely in hindsight this is because Pratchett's later uses of his witch characters is utterly brilliant, but here many of the character traits and ideas are still raw, and the characters just don't yet stand out as individual voices. Esk isn't an interesting or memorable character at all (and wasn't mentioned again for twenty-three years of books after this), and even senior witch Granny Weatherwax (who later becomes, I'd argue, Pratchett's magnum opus in character creation) is unfortunately somewhat bland also, lacking in the authoritarian tone or deathly biting wit I expect now from her, as Pratchett seems to struggle to develop a formula to have his witches and wizards really stand out from the multitudes of other similar fantasy characters in literature. Meanwhile, while the themes of equality are interesting and clear, they're hardly innovative nor do they come to a great conclusion.

Maybe I'm being too harsh on this book from the perspective of someone who's too obsessed with the later, greater efforts of the author. It's certainly not a bad book and it contains some great ideas and writing, but its meandering plot and too many flat characters mean I'd have to classify it as one of the weaker entries in the series. But considering his standards, that's still not bad.

Cormac McCarthy- The Road

I'm getting through A Clash of Kings far quicker than I anticipated, which is for the best considering I've got about thirty books sat in my wardrobe waiting to be read (including graphic novels). I'm about half way through that fantasy epic, brutal fantasy soap opera. In the meantime...

The Road

Alfred A. Knopf

Cormac McCarthy

1996

"In those first years the roads were peopled with refugees shrouded up in their clothing. Wearing masks and goggles, sitting in their rags by the side of the road like ruined aviators. Their barrows heaped with shoddy. Towing wagons or carts. Their eyes bright in their skulls. Creedless shells of men tottering down the causeways like migrants in a feverland. The frailty of everything revealed at last. Old and troubling issues resolved into nothingness and night. The last instance of a thing takes the class with it. Turns out the light and is gone. Look around you. Ever is a long time. But the boy knew what he knew. That ever is no time at all."

Though published almost six years ago to universal critical acclaim, I wasn't really aware of this book until very recently, entirely due to the fact I simply don't find myself attracted to contemporary fiction very often; nothing personal, it's just that I figure it's more likely to find a book that I'd really like among the hundreds and hundreds of older (and I'm just talking twenty years), already recognized classics than it is spending time on a modern novel that's yet to settle in the collective mindset of a truly great piece of work. Nonetheless, I'd heard people talking about this book on various forums and websites quite a lot, and once I saw it on the shelves for a very modest £3, new, I couldn't resist such a deal.

The Road was my introduction to Cormac McCarthy, very-well established Rhode Island-born author of such famous works as No Country for Old Men and Blood Meridian (one of the books sat waiting in my wardrobe) and I was very, very impressed; if not totally blown away then at least pushed a very great distance by gale-force winds. The Road's genre is one that, I've since discovered, has been debated with gusto regarding its sub-genre classification and ethical or deconstruct-able (yes I have made that word up) meaning, but at its undeniable plot-point basis is a post-apocalyptic thriller. An omniscient third person narration tells the gripping and harrowing story of one unnamed man and his young son traveling across a destroyed American landscape simply fighting for food and warmth. McCarthey crucially negates answering some of the biggest questions that the reader may have, choosing to leave them as mysteries to be pondered and debated on. Instead he merely shows us a world of death, where the sun fails to shine and the only life that remains is of a few struggling humans and creatures on a constant hunt for food. McCarthy tells us little about his two main characters either, simply giving a few details here and there throughout the book. 

 

It's perhaps this lack of detail that encapsulates the grip that The Road takes upon the reader. McCarthy's stark, immaculately composed prose reeks of the desperation and fear that he places on the father and son. The reader is given few hints as to what to expect except more fear, danger and desperation. We know that horrific gangs of desperate, cannibalistic men roam the landscape, abandoning every rule of civilization for the sake of survival. McCarthy describes desolate scenes of captivating apocalyptic surroundings that I found haunting and thrilling. Crucially, he fills every page with the concern and love of the father for his child, making his reader fear for the safety for the boy. Though his father is a very capable survival expert, his son shows glimpses of humanitarianism that he has long since lost, as the innocence of youth shines like a beacon.

The Road isn't a book based on plot-twists or an expected deus ex machina, but instead a bleak, unpredictable odyssey. There are very, very few supporting characters, none of whom exist for more than a few pages. Some passages are so extremely bleak it's hard to continue reading for the moment. There are a few moments of unequivocal, shocking horror. But despite all of this the love of parent and child jumps off the page as a major theme. While this book is so acclaimed partly because it's possible to read into it into so many different ways, it wouldn't be nearly as readable or successful if McCarthy didn't make you care about his two characters as people rather than extended plot devices. As a result it's completely possible to read The Road without having to think too hard about the extended ramifications, but simply as a nerve-wracking survival horror. However you choose to look at it, The Road is a stunning achievement. I have another author's bibliography to (slowly) explore.

Paul Auster- The Invention of Solitude

One of the best things I got from University was knowledge of the existence of Paul Auster's work. About six years on and I'm so easily distracted by random books I see everywhere that I haven't finished reading his whole bibliography yet, though I'm trying much harder now. Meanwhile, I just started reading George R. R. Martin's A Clash of Kings, which is a pretty huge book and might keep me busy for a while.

The Invention of Solitude

Faber & Faber

Paul Auster

1982

Other Paul Auster Reviews- The Invention of Solitude - The Country of Last Things - Moon Palace - Mr. Vertigo - Timbuktu - The Book of Illusions - Oracle Night - Invisible

"The pen will never be able to move fast enough to write down every word discovered in the space of memory. Some things have been lost forever, other things will perhaps be remembered again, and still other things have been lost and found and lost again. There is no way to be sure of any of this."

Paul Auster's The Invention of Solitude was the acclaimed author's first accredited (there's an earlier book written under a pseudonym) published work, a non-fiction memoir of sorts carefully divided into two thematically linked novella-length pieces. Combined, the two pieces as a whole explore the issue of fatherhood, as an extremely personal, complex and multi-faceted situation that Auster himself was clearly obsessed with at the time of writing. These two elongated essays differ by each focusing on a different major viewpoint, and also by using a notable different style of narration to do so, resulting in a very three dimensional piece of writing that exists both as a personal exploration and an experiment with form.

The first part of the book is entitled Portrait of an Invisible Man, and it's a no-holds-barred intimately personal journal written by Paul Auster the human being, regarding the thoughts, actions and emotions visited upon him prior to the death of his father. Written as an attempt at catharsis, Auster begins by mostly detailing the first reaction to the news, and then explores his own memories regarding his father, a very difficult and distant man, as Auster and his wife go through the painful process of detailing and removing the myriad of possessions littering his father's long-time home. As they do so, many of the items bring back more thoughts and memories, to the extent that Auster begins to explore and explain his recent family history, including a shocking murderous family secret that his father never spoke about. Auster talks about some things at great lengths, while other memories are placed on the page as one sentence of nostalgia among others. Everything here is intensely personal, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. It's a very open and honest memoir, written with care and affection at a very difficult time, and read by itself would be a powerful piece of work.

The second section of the book is The Book of Memory, a very different stylistically essay that looks at the relationship between Paul Auster and his own son Daniel, but does so in a far less direct way than Invisible Man, contrasting with that intensely personal work by being written in the third person (titling Auster as merely A.) and directing itself on numerous related critical tangents taking in literature and philosophy. In essence it's stylistically very similar to much of Auster's later work, taking in themes of coincidence and absurdism as it follows its lead character around the world and back to experience muffled revelations regarding life and its properties, but without any real definite conclusion. As Auster drifts back and forth between such topics such as Anne Frank and Carlo Collodi's The Adventures of Pinocchio, he creates a very interesting read, and one that works very well as a counter piece to Invisible man through its differences. I don't think Auster pretends to offer any solid answers or concrete epiphanies about the complex human issues he experiences, but instead treats it all as a part of his own shared odyssey, where each new thought and experience adds to the last and changes the direction of the next.

It's easy to see why The Invention of Solitude got Paul Auster noticed in the literary world and provided a great standpoint for his next ground-breaking publication, the sequentially-published New York Trilogy. Not only is it a very impressive technical piece, but there's an enormous amount of personality involved that turns what other authors might have presented as mundane into often-fascinating philosophical musing. It's a book that I would recommend to almost anyone, as it's complex without being difficult and will undoubtedly leave the reader feeling far more thoughtful than they did upon entry.

Terry Pratchett's Discworld 02- The Light Fantastic

Two down, 37 to go. Also, I've got this completely irrational desire to replace all the traditional illustrated-cover editions of Discworld paperbacks I own with the newer, cooler-looking black-with-a-symbolic-picture covers. If you take away the hardbacks I have, that gives me about 30 to re-buy because I've only got The Colour of Magic in that edition so far. I may not finish that little idea...

The Light Fantastic

Terry Pratchett

1986

Other Terry Pratchett Reviews- The Colour of Magic - The Light Fantastic - Equal Rites - Mort - Sourcery - Wyrd Sisters - Pyramids - Guards! Guards! - Eric - Moving Pictures - Reaper Man - Witches Abroad - Small Gods - Lords and Ladies - Men At Arms - Soul Music - Interesting Times - Maskerade - Feet of Clay - Hogfather - Raising Steam - A Blink of the Screen - Sky1 Adaptations- Dodger - The Long Earth (w Stephen Baxter)

"DID YOU SAY HUMANS PLAY IT FOR FUN?"

"Some of them get to be very good at it, yes. I'm only an amateur, I'm afraid"

"BUT THEY ONLY LIVE EIGHTY OR NINETY YEARS!" 

The direct follow-up to The Colour of Magic not only concludes the characters of Rincewind and Twoflower's tale of impending Cthulian-esque Discworld doom, but also stands out as an impressive step-up for the author's writing ability (including structure, minor characters and pacing) and continues to establish an exiting future direction for the series. Pratchett manages to balance the mixture of action and adventure with his own mixture of fantasy comedy (clearly influenced by the luminaries of Monty Python and Douglas Adams), and brings in to sharp focus the neglected main plot of The Colour of Magic, changing the tone from one of episodic chaos to that of a meaningful, apocalyptic thriller.

Upon rereading this book, one aspect that clearly stood out as a massive improvement on this books predecessor was the author's ability to bring to life compelling and amusing secondary characters with a real shelf-life. The wizards who pursue Rincewind populate Unseen University, led by the villainous Archchancellor Trymon are given more personality and purpose, with the aforementioned antagonist standing out as a charismatic (if a little generic in plot purpose) power-corrupted madman with his finger on the metaphorical button. More brilliant is the introduction of Cohen the Barbarian, the greatest hero in the history of the Disc, an unstoppable killing machine who has survived every dangerous challenge that's ever been thrown at him to the extent that he's now a leather-clad, sword-wielding toothless old man. Cohen would go on to reappear twice more in future books, and represents the author's commendable feat of turning what could potentially be a one-note comedy gimmick into an incredible likable and endearing character. Compared to the unimaginative cliche of Hrun the Barbarian from CoM, it's a massive improvement.

Pratchett also displays a previously unseen ability to present a surrealist macabre; in one sequence Rincewind enters the world of Death (the one with the cloak and scythe) to rescue his poisoned and dying friend Two-Flower, and finds him playing cards with the four horsemen in a wonderful tone that mixes unsettling danger and very funny dialogue marvelously. It's scenarios like this, where Pratchett gives you a glimpse of a new world within a world, full of ingenious ideas and skillful scene description that encourage the future of the Discworld series, so while The Light Fantastic rounds off this particular odyssey, further adventures of Rincewind and many, many others were clearly just waiting to be penned. Ultimately, while this book makes a little more sense to begin with if you've read CoM, it's certainly not essential and not doing so may in fact be beneficial to the first time Discworld reader whom considers him or herself to be a more demanding literary critic.

John Updike- Bech: A Book

A bit of a shorter one today, because I think I got burnt out/became very lazy writing those taxing four paragraph ones, and so I need a hard-earned rest. This is an important job; writing haphazard reviews of old books on a blog that nobody reads (although I do keep getting hits somehow from this one guy's website where he tries to scam people with software that'll make you a bazillionaire). Plus, it's kind of a short book anyway.

Bech: A Book

Random House

John Updike

1970

"From infancy on, we are all spies; the shame is not this but that the secrets to be discovered are so paltry and few."

I've been gravitating towards post-war American literature more and more over the past few years, exploring and discovering the work of a large number of authors with never-ending bibliographies and having a lot of fun doing so, but I'd never picked up a book by John Updike before, which is perhaps odd because there's quite a lot of them. Nevertheless, his name and reputation encouraged me to pick Bach: A Book off the shelves, as well as its apparent shortness meaning that if I didn't like it I could still finish it quickly (oh, and the cheap prices of charity bookshops also helped the decision). After a quick bit of research involving a website that begins with a W, I discovered that Bech: A Book is actually a collection of short stories regarding the life of the titular character, originally published in the 1960's by The New Yorker. As a result, rather than being a typical novel with an overarching plot and structured story, these stories comprise a character study of a man who himself represents a playful, but thoughtful look at the nature of the author in general and, supposedly, of John Updike himself.

Henry Bech is a Jewish author with a three-book bibliography that he hasn't added to in about five years. Instead, Bech seems content to mull over the successes and failures of his previous works in similar conversations with those who will indulge him. He's considered somewhat of a modern US literary icon, to such an extent that, in the first three stories compiling this compilation, Bech has been sent as a sort of cultural envoy to Eastern European countries, namely Romania, Bulgaria and Russia. It's these three installments that I enjoyed the most out of anything in this collection, as Updike paints a compelling picture of an American author experiencing new surroundings as an alien, having absorbing conversations with the locals and constantly re-evaluating his place as a cultural export. There's lots of character development here, as Updike establishes one of the key character points that travels through this narrative; Bech is an unconventional womanizer, attracting them with his own thoughtful intensity and being unable to resist falling in love with each new attraction he meets. Unfortunately I wasn't as interested in the four extracts in this book, where Bech in his American homeland continues his unproductiveness to instead muse on his own life, while picking up a new female companion in seemingly every chapter. While the themes are similar to the Eastern European exploits, these chapters lacked any characters that I found interesting to interact with Bech.

As a first time Updike reader, I mostly enjoyed this book. I'm certainly keen to read more novels from him, particularly a more conventional narrative rather than a compendium like this. There are two further Bech collections which I may one day take a look at, but for now I see this book as a kind of introduction to Updike's memorable prose style and distinguished way of looking at the world.