Translated by W Lammers
This tells a story of Harada, a forty something TV scriptwriter living in Tokyo, just dealing with his divorce and loss of his only friend (who fancies his ex-wife).
Nothing much happens; his friend dumps him, he gets a job writing a pilot for a soap opera, a pretty younger woman tries to make friends; and then for no apparent reason, his world suddenly starts including elements of the supernatural – ghosts of his long dead parents appear to him, invite him to dinner, and have a few pleasant evenings at their apartment. And he starts wasting away (as you do after going playing catch with your dead dad). Quite why these thing should start happening never really worries the main character and as a reader you are rather left wondering why some events occurred.
As an idea, it is superficially interesting – compare it to something like Dracula, if the narrator were Lucy. You as the reader know something is going on, but you don't know what, and the main character isn't going to do anything to resolve matters. But, ultimately, the experience is somewhat unfulfilling. Because Harada (nee Lucy) isn't capable of significant actions he has to be sort of rescued by his friend and the final climax with a ghost has to go along the lines of “curses foiled – I only have power over you if you love me” - followed by ghost fading to grey.
So, it is an interesting, but somewhat flawed idea. The language also presents something of a curate's egg. Initially it feels very wooden. For instance
This feeling of too much quiet first came over me on a night near the end of July as I sat working at my desk a little after eleven. A chill ran down my spine, and I felt as though I were suspended in the middle of a vast dark void, utterly alone.
“It's awfully quite,” I murmured.
and this style seems to contribute to a somewhat dissociated main character that seems unbelievably clueless. But, the style did grow a little on me, and in the end I wasn't too sure if the style were deliberate, or a reflection on the translation.
On the whole, not a great novel – but not bad, and it was good enough to make me look up the term Noah play and probably try this genre again.
This tells a story of Harada, a forty something TV scriptwriter living in Tokyo, just dealing with his divorce and loss of his only friend (who fancies his ex-wife).
Nothing much happens; his friend dumps him, he gets a job writing a pilot for a soap opera, a pretty younger woman tries to make friends; and then for no apparent reason, his world suddenly starts including elements of the supernatural – ghosts of his long dead parents appear to him, invite him to dinner, and have a few pleasant evenings at their apartment. And he starts wasting away (as you do after going playing catch with your dead dad). Quite why these thing should start happening never really worries the main character and as a reader you are rather left wondering why some events occurred.
As an idea, it is superficially interesting – compare it to something like Dracula, if the narrator were Lucy. You as the reader know something is going on, but you don't know what, and the main character isn't going to do anything to resolve matters. But, ultimately, the experience is somewhat unfulfilling. Because Harada (nee Lucy) isn't capable of significant actions he has to be sort of rescued by his friend and the final climax with a ghost has to go along the lines of “curses foiled – I only have power over you if you love me” - followed by ghost fading to grey.
So, it is an interesting, but somewhat flawed idea. The language also presents something of a curate's egg. Initially it feels very wooden. For instance
This feeling of too much quiet first came over me on a night near the end of July as I sat working at my desk a little after eleven. A chill ran down my spine, and I felt as though I were suspended in the middle of a vast dark void, utterly alone.
“It's awfully quite,” I murmured.
and this style seems to contribute to a somewhat dissociated main character that seems unbelievably clueless. But, the style did grow a little on me, and in the end I wasn't too sure if the style were deliberate, or a reflection on the translation.
On the whole, not a great novel – but not bad, and it was good enough to make me look up the term Noah play and probably try this genre again.