1Q84 | Haruki Murakami

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It may seem deceptive to say that Haruki Murakami plays it fast and loose in 1Q84 with the themes that have inhabited his writing since his breakout novel A Wild Sheep Chase thirty years ago, considering his new novel (released in Japan as three separate volumes) clocks in at just 1,000 pages.  But by wrapping his clinical assessments of love, identity, the nature of reality and the power of stories in a sprawling narrative involving a masseuse that doubles as an assassin, a religious compound cut off from the world, immaculate conceptions, and the existence of an alternate reality where two moons light the sky and the potential for rekindled love can be had, provided you live through the experience.

It's 1984 when Aomame, a slender, quiet woman late for an important appointment, decides to leave a cab stuck in traffic on the freeway.  By the time she's made her way down a decrepit set of service stairs to the streets below, it's 1Q84.  As she slowly goes about her day, she begins to notice small things - police officers are carrying automatic pistols instead of the revolvers she recalls only a few days before, news items appear she has no recollection of.  It's only later, when she looks up at the sky and see a second moon, smaller and green in the night sky, that she begins to realize she's somewhere, well...else.

In another section of the city Tengo, a young math teacher with writing aspirations, is asked to revise and polish an extraordinary novelette called Air Chrysalis, written by a mysterious young girl named Fuka-Eri.  Seemingly autobiographical, the novelette concerns a young girl in a religious compound who witnesses the arrival of the Little People: small, nondescript people that crawl out of the mouth of a dead goat and begin to weave a cocoonout of threads of air.  In the story, two moon light the sky, and soon Tengo realizes the world he's revising in the book is his own. 

From there 1Q84 takes off, each chapter alternating Aomame and Tengo's story until they ultimately collide.  Everything you come to expect from a Murakami novel is present: music is a defining trait for characters, food is as detailed and described as the sex, and the dialog (the novel is translated by Murakami mainstays Jay Rubin and Philip Gabriel) has that introspective, calm cadence that's a defining trait in Murakami's writing.  Writing, the physical act of writing and its effect on people is a major theme in 1Q84.  For Tengo it is very direct - the act of polishing Air Chrysalis visibly changes his world, and involves him in a conspiracy that could endanger his life.  Later, a short story about a city of cats he read to his dying father begins to mirror his own predicaments.  For Aomame, the prayers she was forced to recite as a child becomes mantra as her world slowly grows more crazy.  Reading Air Chrysalis ignites her connection to Tengo, and allows her a glimpse into why the reality of 1Q84 exists for them.  There's a beautiful passage illustrating this connection, when Aomame realizes the act of reading something Tengo has written connects them:

Still sitting on the floor, Aomame closed her eyes.  She pressed her nose against the pages of the book, inhaling its smells - the smell of the paper, the smell of the ink.  She quietly gave herself up to its flow, listening hard for the sound of Tengo's heart.

This is the kingdom, she thought.

I am ready to die, anytime at all.

If you're going in looking for a slick SF alternate history book, a la Harry Turtledove, this isn't it: Murakami uses the existence of this alternate version of 1984 not to postulate a alternate future, but to illustrate the human need to create own reality in order to find something intangible in our current world.  1Q84 is a purposely sprawling, messy conglomeration of everything Haruki Murakami is fascinated by, equal parts moving, funny, and gripping.  It's along trip, but still the ending came too soon.

All Saints Day Collection of Odds, Ends

Happy Halloween, everyone!  And Happy November as well!

Life continues to be a swirling, fractal mass of chaos, with my boiler blowing the morning of the big Northeastern Storm that dropped about a foot of snow in some places of New York, massive amounts of work (the beginning of November is a major release date for my company, so the end of October is basically devoted to meeting after meeting making sure everything goes off with a minimum of company-crashing problems), and just too much fun being had between playing video games, reading excellent books, listening to even more excellent music (I've been on a rampaging Sonic Youth tear for some reason) and doing the family-thing, like carving the pumpkins above and cook (and devouring) more cupcakes that I really needed to have.

I owe this site a few things: despite only three real Hail Horror reviews I watched a few more films, including THE LEGEND OF HELL HOUSE, TROLLHUNTER, JOHN CARPENTER'S THE WARD, and RARE EXPORTS (I also watched Sylvain Chomet's THE ILLUSIONIST, but honestly it left me a little dry, despite being a huge fan of Jacques Tati's films one of which I'll discuss below).  Rather than wasting more time writing up in-depth reviews of each, I'll do one big wrap-up post encapsulating my thoughts on the listed films and talk about how the way I view horror films has changed over the years since becoming a father.

Lots of interesting things to talk and write about over the next few weeks.  Today was the first day of the wonderful Criterion 50% sale at Barnes and Noble, and I lightened my pocket considerably, picking up blu-rays of THE ISLAND OF LOST SOULS, THE BATTLE OF ALGIERS, HARAKIRI, PLAY TIME, and Olivier's HAMLET on DVD.  I'm a massive Criterion nut, and with this batch I have at least two dozen unwatched films laying around waiting to be devoured, so some of those will definitely see some space here.  On the music front I mentioned above how I've lately been on a huge Sonic Youth kick; their music, especially Daydream Nation, is hitting me like I've never heard anything like it before, much the same way it must have hit kids back in the day when it came out in 1988 - the difference being I'm 38 years old now: my body and mind can't fully process what's happening to it except that it likes it, it likes it a lot.  I doubt the same can be said for Lulu, the experimental collaboration between Lou Reed and Metallica but, being the intrepid adventurer I am, I picked it up and plan to do a pot-luck review of it here later in the week.

All that and life coming up shortly.  For a kick-off month rattling off nine posts is pretty gratifying, but I still feel like I'm only scratching the surface of what I want to do.  Writing still feels pretty rusty, and I want to get back to some sort of rhythm where I'm not second-guessing every sentence I write, so expect more and different content in the coming weeks, and as always, feel free to comment about whatever you like!

The October Book Haul

Between watching horror movies for Hail Horror 6, playing Batman: Arkham City until my eyes fell out of my head, helping my grandmother move out of the family home, and being laid out with a respiratory infection for close to two weeks, the fates didn't leave me a lot of time for good old fashioned book readin'.  I made the decision this month to severely cut back on my weekly comic haul - as much as I love my LCS (Grasshoppers Comics in East Williston, and a nicer man than John Riley you'd be hard pressed to find), I've been getting less and less interested in physical copies of comics I'll never read again, preferring to catch up on collected series I can read together, either on my iPad or in a trade.  So going forward there should be a lot more free time to dive into the enormous pile of great books I've either picked up, downloaded, or just plain coveted from afar.

And what a freakin' pile this month.  With less than a week in October remaining, it looks like the only book besides Petrograd (reviewed here) that I'll complete is Neal Stephenson's latest 1,000 page (well, 923 pages to be exact) behemoth, Reamde.  Stephenson's all over the map in terms of genre, getting his start in landmark cyberpunk SF like Snow Crash and The Diamond Age, he's also fearlessly tread into WWII action (Cryptonomicon), political activism (Zodiac), far-future alien/mathematics insanity (Anathem, reviewed here) and, of course, he's perhaps best known for his mammoth 3,000 page Baroque Cycle a trilogy I sheepishly admit having defeated me on three seperate occassions.  And while Reamde seems on the surface to be his most accessible work, a modern action thriller about a computer virus that affects millions of players of a World of Warcraft-like game that spins into real-world terrorism once it crosses paths with Russian mobsters and Islamic jihadists, it still displays all the quirks that make reading Stephenson a delight: massive amounts of details and and explorations into how the building of a MMORPG works, characters that start out as broad sketches, only to slowly deepen and glow with an inner life that makes the action that much more thrilling, and of course the ideas on top of ideas on top of ideas, both technological, philosophical and cultural.

The rest of the virtual haul looks like this:

  • The God Delusion and The Greatest Show on Earth - Richard Dawkins
  • 1Q84 - Haruki Murakami
  • The Night Eternal - Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan
  • The Children of the Sky - Vernor Vinge
  • The Marriage Plot - Jeffrey Eugenides
  • Damned - Chuck Palahniuk
  • The Visible Man - Chuck Klosterman

Going forward I plan to have reviews for everything I read, but I'll continue the book haul on a monthly basis.  In the meantime, what are you reading?

Petrograd | Philip Gelatt and Tyler Crook

Here’s the cold, hard truth about comic books and the comic industry: unless you’re steadily providing fodder for the Hollywood Blockbuster Machine, or you’re making press-grabbing headlines about your re-launches (DC and Marvel) or re-numberings (DC and Marvel) or bringing people back (DC and Marvel) or killing them again (DC and Marvel – notice a trend?)…let’s face it: unless you’re DC or Marvel, the public at large doesn’t give much of a damn about you, and doesn’t much care to know anything about you.

Which is a damn shame, because for all the talk about whether it’s a good time to get out of comics, or get into comics due to the hullabaloo over at the Big 2 publishers, little attention is paid to the uniformly excellent work being done at the smaller, independent publishers.  Even ignoring the great work at Image and Dark Horse, two larger (but still independent) publishers who are putting out great regular titles like The Walking Dead, ChewB.P.R.D. and FEAR Agent, there are fantastic series and OGNs (original graphic novels) by scores of publishers you may not even know are out there.

Case in point: the excellent Petrograd, written by Philip Gelatt and illustrated by Tyler Crook (who as we speak is gearing up to take over the drawing reins for B.P.R.D.) and published by Oni Press, who has one of the best monthly titles out there right now with The Sixth GunPetrograd is a historical spy thriller that uses as its launching point the political turmoil of 1916 Russia and the conspiratorial murder of the Mad Monk himself, Gregorii Rasputin.  Told through the eyes and actions of Agent Cleary, a small-time operative working as a double agent for British Intelligence, Petrograd weaves multiple  story lines that vividly captures the atmosphere of Russia and its denizens’ attitudes towards the madness permeating from behind the walls of the Czar’s palace, but also the inner workings of the other side, as the “good guys” often end up being just as nasty, perverse, and chaotic as the Monk they wish to topple.

Great ideas for any book, but since we’re talking comics none of this would work worth a damn if the pictures didn’t sell (and tell) the story, and it’s hear the Petrograd really works its magic.  Crook is simply stunning, using a less realistic, cartoony style with a minimum of color (the book is almost entirely bathed in pinkish, orange hues) to accentuate the action, and it serves to highlight the humanity of the situations in a way that using a more realistic approach could never achieve.  The layouts are equally dynamic, often skewed and slanted to accentuate tiny slivers of importance.  Eyes are prominently featured: whether behind a newspaper or enraged with symbolic skulls, Crook draws your attention exactly to where he wants it to be, while simultaneously letting you in on all the tiny details that make every panel a piece of art.

Beautifully packaged, superbly plotted, and exquisitely drawn, Petrograd is just one piece of evidence that comics are more than capes, cowls, and merchandising.  Whenever I feel myself getting let down or tired by the monthly grind of the mainstream publishers, it’s titles like Petrograd and publishers like Oni (and Image, and Boom, and Drawn & Quarterly, etc.) that remind me of the allure of and magic of comics, and why I continue to be held in thrall of the word balloon.