Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami


Love, loss, and loneliness combine in this superficially superficial novel. Murakami presents a world of isolated characters on singular trajectories, whose paths sometimes cross but never truly meet. Like the characters themselves, emotions are untethered, emerging as love unrequited, unconnected sexual desire, and an unspecified fear. Only child-like friendship, fiercely loyal, singular, and platonic, seems real, something characters can cling to but, sadly, not build upon. The prose is lithesome, youthful, and unadorned, yet at times almost dreamlike. Sort of a curious combination of Camus and Alain-Fournier. The setting, nominally Japan with a visit to a nameless Greek island, is sprinkled with enough namechecks of world brands such as Amstel, Heineken, Elizabeth Schwarzkopf, that it feels like it could be taking place anywhere, or in keeping with its orbital theme, somewhere high above the earth. Or perhaps we are in a dreamworld, the “other” place that the characters sometimes seek, or fear they have lost themselves to. This is a novel that will prompt new thoughts, but will not settle down into a one-line summary. Highly recommended.

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