By Haruki MurakamiI don’t suppose you’re really supposed to know precisely what’s going on in any of Murakami’s novels, but just once, I’d like to know FOR SURE what happened. I nearly had this one nailed, but then in the last couple of pages he threw in a metaphysical curveball (or something) and my brain missed. The confusion is part of the charm of Murakami’s writing, but every so often I have a sneaking suspicion that the author has no idea what’s going on either and so purposely leaves everything vague and uncertain at the end, correctly assuming that the reader will assume that they are an idiot if they don’t get it.
Sputnik Sweetheart is narrated by K, who loves Sumire, who unfortunately for K falls in love with Miu, who in turn isn’t really capable of loving anyone. (Read the book to find out why). In other words, unrequited love double jeopardy. I’ve read three of Murakami’s books now, and I think I see a recurring theme – people who somehow manage to split their personality between this world and some other place (e.g. ‘the other side’). What this other place is supposed to be I’m never to sure about, and in Sputnik Sweetheart I couldn’t even tell on which side the narrator ended up.
There’s certainly no other author I can think of that writes quite like this, so if you haven’t read any of Murakami’s novels this one might be a good place to start. I liked this book, but didn’t love it – I think I liked Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World better, but it was a while ago that I read that now. Overall I felt more satisfied with Sputnik Sweetheart than I did with Kafka on the Shore, but I really loved Kafka up to a certain point, the point where reality started shifting sideways and my damn left brain refused to go with the flow.
Rating: 6.5 out of 10
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