Things I read: Heaven (By Mieko Kawakami)

I’ve always been a fan of Japanese literature but only recently realised quite how popular it’s become.

Every trip into Waterstones seems to reveal more contemporary Japanese novels stacked on the front tables, staring at me like wide-eyed cats waiting to be fed. It’s a pleasant shift, especially considering that five years ago the selection felt far narrower — usually a couple of Murakamis (Ryu and Haruki) with a handful of older names filling out the shelf.

The surge in translations has made it an especially good time to dive back in.

Heaven is the first contemporary Japanese novel I’ve read since Killing Commendatore back in 2020, and fittingly it’s also the debut novel of its author, singer-turned-writer Mieko Kawakami. 

The story follows two bullied high school students: an unnamed boy with a lazy eye, and Kojima, a quiet, undernourished girl dismissed as “dirty” by her peers. Both endure sustained cruelty, and through that shared suffering they form a tentative friendship, first through handwritten letters and eventually something deeper.

At just 248 pages, it’s a short book, but one that carries real weight. While the horrors of high school are a familiar theme in Japanese fiction, Kawakami approaches them with an adult sensibility that avoids cliché. She gives both characters a quiet, painful dignity, allowing them to stand in for anyone struggling with cruelty they don’t deserve.

What stayed with me most is how the novel balances relentless awfulness with brief, fragile moments of joy. Like its characters, it shows how easy it is to overlook small kindnesses — unless you’re desperate enough to search for them.

Overall, I loved my time with Heaven and I’m already looking forward to reading more of Kawakami’s work. Breasts and Eggs is sitting patiently on my Kindle waiting its turn.

Things I Read — The Shortest History of Europe

Being on a not-very-wanted cusp of a potential exit from the European Union, I thought it best to delve into the topic du jour and learn all about the history of Europe. 

This represents a small (see: rather big) blind spot in my knowledge owing to what I admit is a terrible understanding of history as a subject. Although I took it at school, I’ve never been one to regale facts and figures about the evolution of our society throughout the ages.

Much like a tin of Ronseal, the book does exactly what you’d imagine it does. It takes us through times of antiquity, leading towards Rome, straight through to the canals of Medieval Europe, before dropping us squarely into the tumultuous events of the 20^th Century. 

It’s divided into three main sections with each providing a brief but engaging pitch about eventful chapters of European life. The writing is informed by introductory lecturers that author John Hirst taught at La Trobe University. Its audience is clearly the common man; which is great because I like to think myself as common as they come.

There's lots here but the subject that piqued my interest most was Hirst’s detail of the impact and spread of religion. He explains how Christianity proved a nuisance cult for the Romans, before a keen and superstitious emperor called Augustus used it to unify his flailing empire. 

Christianity stood in opposition to perennial rival Islam, which ruled in Spain at the time, with these religions accounting for big splits between European kingdoms.

Christianity also proved to be a huge factor in the eventual beheading of England's openly catholic James II, who was ceded in power as monarch by the parliamentarian Roundheads, who then stuck a Dutchman protestant by the name of William of Orange in charge.

Overall, it’s an easy-read; great for those eager to gain a foothold into history. The blurb says you can read it in an afternoon, although it took me two weeks because I'm lazy.

Things I Read: The Keep (Jennifer Egan)

The Keep is an interesting novel, if mainly for a big switcheroo it pulls somewhere within.

Much of the book follows Danny, a thirty-something hipster clinging tightly to his status symbols. His routine is disrupted when his uncle Howard, a retired financial guru, summons him to a remote castle in rural Czechia.

Danny’s task is to evict a cranky, elderly Baroness who has barricaded herself inside the castle’s keep (title drop). Along the way, he begins to realise he’s being played for a fool, while also confronting the emptiness of his technology-saturated life… or so it seems.

Those question marks matter, because the novel quietly leans into metafiction. Danny’s story isn’t as straightforward as it initially appears. Framed loosely as a piece of light horror, the book carries a constant sense of unease. Strange details linger at the edges, and several chapters suddenly shift focus to characters seemingly unrelated to Danny or Howard.

These interruptions appear sporadically, gradually revealing a second narrative rooted in realism rather than the gothic strangeness of the castle plot. It’s a structural trick that keeps the reader slightly off balance, never fully certain which version of the story they’re meant to trust.

Like her other work, Egan shows a knack for writing fiction that’s both entertaining and quietly meaningful. The Keep isn’t my favourite of her novels but it highlights her greatest strength: an ability to draw out complex, flawed characters and invite us to genuinely sympathise, even as the ground beneath them shifts.

Things I Read: Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage — Man Got No Colour

Did you know that the entire Tokyo subway network comprises of 300 stations? 

Within this there are thirteen lines covering a total length of 300km. For comparison, a blue whale - the biggest animal in the world - comes in at just over 25m. That means that the Tokyo subway covers the same length as 12,000 of these ocean traversing mammals!

This factoid is relevant because the protagonist of Haruki Murakami’s thirteenth novel Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage is fascinated by Japanese railway stations. His occupation is to design them; to create seamless internal systems that allow for the free flow of 8.7 million Japanese commuters. 

Unfortunately it's not a control he maintains in his own life - an incident early in his life causes his childhood friends to inexplicably abandon him and he spends the next twenty years trying, and failing, to come to terms with it.

As a long-time Murakami reader, it's easy to pick on the main themes of the novel - the attempt to overcome historic trauma. It's a concept Murakami explores throughout several of his books. 

It's expressed less abstractly here than in say, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle. 

This one is more a direct tale of childhood loss, told with a tinge of classic Murakami melancholy. And yeah there's plenty of awkward sex scenes, don't you worry about that. 

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Things I Read: A Wild Sheep Chase - Seductive Ears and Star-Shaped Sheep

Did you know that Japan’s consumption of wool ranks among the highest in the world? Inexplicably though there are only 20,000 sheep living in the entire country. Most of Japan’s wool actually comes from imports, only made possible through cheap trade with countries such as China. That's the power of foreign trade in a nutshell if ever you wanted to know.

I’m regaling this to you because I’ve been reading A Wild Sheep Chase, Haruki Murakami’s third novel. The story focuses on a recent divorcee living in Tokyo in the mid-1970s who, after receiving an inexplicable photograph by an old friend, is visited by a mysterious secretary representing one of Japan’s hidden political elite. 

The secretary orders him to undertake a mission to find a sheep marked with a distinctive star shape on its back. This leads to the literal wild sheep chase of the title.

Naturally the story leaves a lot to the imagination but it's largely about the mysterious forces at the heart of society. It does an excellent job striking a contrast between these and regular ol' aspects of daily life. Its plot offers many personal and philosophical ruminations. It ends quite satisfyingly too, which is a real rarity for a Murakami book.

All in all, I’m a big fan.

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Things I Read: Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under The Sea - Giant Squids and Long Descriptions of Aquamarine Life

I had what I thought would be a great idea recently when I decided to read books in the morning. 

I thought it'd be a reason to get up, start my day with something more edifying than an internet debate, and generally help achieve my never-ending goal to read all of the world’s classic novels. 

Unfortunately it didn't work very well. Turns out that I’m much too tired at that time of the morning but it did serve as my inspiration to buy and read Jules Verne’s classic tale of underwater adventure, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea.

The novel was originally serialised and released in two parts, with the English translation arriving in 1872. The plot focuses on a mythic nautical submarine (the Nautilus) captained by one mister Captain Nemo. The main characters are the astute professor Aronnax, his loyal assistant Consul, and the ever-ready-with-a-harpoon Canadian Ned Land. 

The story focuses on their imprisonment aboard Nemo's submarine with the elliptical plot focusing on their many adventures across the seven seas. This includes them being attacked by giant squids in the Atlantic Ocean, through to their near-death by trapped ice caverns in the South Pole. It’s exceptionally well-detailed - almost encyclopedic - in its descriptions of the species and genus of underwater life. 

A very sexy thing if you want to be a Marine Biologist.

Personally this didn’t interest me much. My eyes tended to glaze over these sections simply because I haven’t the (Phileast) fog about science. Instead, I was taken aback by the whimsical nature of the narrative. It’s an extremely arresting book throughout, featuring a highly charismatic cast, especially the oft-heard-of-but-never-quite-understood Nemo. 

For me he’s the most interesting character in the book, both as a hero and villain. He leads staff aboard the Nautilus, being exiled from humanity; it's never fully clear what his motives are. In some ways he’s like an aqua-version of Robin Hood. Both work on the premise of extracting beautiful amounts of bounty for a greater good. Nemo’s intrepid adventures and inexhaustible knowledge of survival allow him to acquire no end of underwater, treasures, which he uses to finance both his life and share with impoverished folk across the world.

He's not quite this reverential all the time, though. He essentially imprisons Aronnax, Consul, and Ned Land much to their chagrin, who spend a great deal of the novel planning their escape (at least when they're not being wowed by Nemo's submarine).

Wiki suggests that the story has strong allusions to Homer’s Odyssey. It's been argued that the story reflects the ten years Odysseus was forced in torment to wander the seven seas. I can't say I know much about that myself but I did enjoy its moment of surprising tension.

It's a smart book, although not necessarily in terms of thematic ideas: a light, rip-roaring adventure through time and space water. 

It’s also a progenitor of the Steampunk genre apparently. 

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Things I Read: After Dark - Wandering Around At 3am

My Haruki Murakami marathon continued this week with the completion of his 2004 novel After Dark. Unfortunately I read it in two instalments over the course of several months so I don't feel comfortable writing a full-fledged post about it but summed up quickly... yeah it's alright.

It feels much like a minor novel in Murakami's canon (not literally a canon of course). I really love the atmosphere which perfectly encapsulates that sense of dread and awe you get when wandering around outside at 3am. Surprisingly it ends satisfyingly which, if you've been read any of my takes on Murakami before, is something I find to be a minor miracle.

I'm disappointed by the lack of secret passageways or scenes where the protagonist completes a marathon. However, a combination of unexpected phone calls, cats, old jazz record, urban ennui and supernatural powers kinda makes up for it.

More importantly, it means we have a clear winner in Murakami Bingo!

Next up I'll be tackling A Wild Sheep Chase and will endeavor to write a proper post about it.

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Things I Read: Dance Dance Dance - Dead Call Girls and Advanced Capitalism

I once told somebody that I didn't like Haruki Murakami. This happened a few years ago and while it was true at the time I feel silly about it now. It’s still true that I don't absolutely love him but he's a writer I find fills a much needed gap. I’ve taken to reading his books during busy periods of my life and I appreciate how his strange ennui induced themes allow for escapism from my own strange ennui-induced life.

Dance Dance Dance is the novel of his I read most recently. It's the sixth book that Murakami wrote and he did so shortly after publishing his most famous novel Norwegian Wood. As far as I gather it meant as a cathartic exercise given how he never enjoyed fame and publicity. He wrote it in exile while living in the USA. The book is also a sort of sequel to an earlier one he wrote called A Wild Sheep Chase (I haven't read it).

The story follows an unnamed freelance writer who is very much the usual Murakami loner figure. It begins with him looking for the whereabouts of an old flame where he winds up at a hotel they once stayed at. This sets in motion a surreal adventure, involving a clairvoyant thirteen-year-old girl, a famous Japanese actor, a cohort of high-class call girls, and a mysterious sheep man who keeps appearing in his dreams. Weird, huh?!

I rally like the story's moody, disjointed narrative. It begins a lot like pulp fiction before shifting into a type of road novel and ending like a psychological thriller. It's the type of thing that intrigues because it refuses to be one thing. It's propelled by its many interesting characters who offer ruminations on life, love and the Talking Heads.

I actually didn't like the ending. I don’t want to say exactly but it felt weak and contrived. This is something I find happens in a lot of Murakami's books. I'm even starting to question whether next time I should rip out the last twenty pages and fashion them into mini paper aeroplanes instead.

Despite that, I mostly enjoyed the book so it's all good. I technically listened to the audio book which was supported by a brilliant performance by Rupert Degas. If you get a chance to be lazy like me, or if you just don't have any hands, then I'd definitely recommend it.

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Things I Read: Flow By Tears, The Policeman Said - Mass Hysteria and Mind-Bending Drugs

It seems to me like the influence of Philip K. Dick has been showing itself a lot lately. First there was the TV adaptation of his novel The Man in the High Castle. Then a new series of Black Mirror, and after that Mr. Robot, which, while too involved in contemporary hacking scandals to mirror anything specific to Dick, features similarities about individuals getting caught up in technological-induced social nightmares.

I guess this might suggest there’s a creative cabal somewhere promoting a big Dick revival, but it probably has more to do with the fact that his unique way of philosophising about technology is just really relevant right now. This sets things up nicely for mentioning that I recently read his 1974 novel Flow My Tears, The Policeman: a book I couldn’t help notice felt far more contemporary than it probably ought to have.

The book is set in an alternate version of the USA; one unfortunately being governed by an authoritarian regime. The story revolves around Jason Taverner, a celebrity whose glittering career, millions of fans, and great wealth are thrown into chaos when he inexplicably loses his identity. He quickly sets off to retrieve it, finding himself in a world where nobody can be trusted and where nothing is quite how it seems.

On the one hand, the book is a surprisingly easy-to-read thriller, on the other,  a cautious take on living a world where your identity can be used against you. I find that quite relevant given how public figures are routinely attacked on social media these days. I also find it scarily relevant given that places like China exist.

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Things I Read: Snow Crash - Ancient History By Way Of Cyberpunk

The eponymous Snow Crash of Neal Stephenson's novel is a virus capable of hacking into the human subconscious. It does so by using futuristic technology but for all intents and purposes is an idea rooted in Ancient History. Snow Crash is a subtle, yet deceptive sci-fi thriller. A 400-word novel that bridges the oft-ignored gap between ancient myths and hardcore hacking. You tell me why that's so oft-ignored.

The story concerns two hackers: the self-consciously named Hiro Protagonist and Y.T. (Yours Truly). Both moonlight as ‘Kouriers’ in an alternate future universe and are quickly drawn into a complex game with religious fanatics trying to take over the world. Well, two worlds really. Both our boring old reality and a much cooler futuristic cyber world known as the 'Metaverse'. Basically the Matrix before that was a thing.

Because of this, the book is comparable to William Gibson’s Neuromancer and just like that book bridges abstract ideas about culture and technology. It makes considerations about how language is akin to data, passed through genes and blended into society just like a virus into a computer program. Stephenson uses this to elaborate on speculative ideas. One example including how an ancient Sumerian God named Enki, helped humanity by developing a counter-virus to a malicious act undertaken by another deity whose name I've forgotten.

It's an idea rooted in a myth from Mesopotamia and a great example of how the novel gorges on history. It has a lot of interest in creation myths, especially those involving the traditionally monotheistic religions such as Islam, Christianity, and Judaism. If there's one big theme tying it all together it's the Tower of Babel: a story present in each religion and one that explains why there are different languages and hence why they're all corruptible.

These kinds of things determine the heavier themes but it also has a fairly basic good guy vs. bad guy plot, a bit like the extremes of 80's action movies. One scene, for instance, takes place on a boat where a great calamitous fight breaks out culminating in a race between the boat and a renegade kayak that quite honestly appears out of nowhere.

While parts like that are arresting, I much preferred the historical conspiratorial angle and particularly loved how it bridged highbrow and lowbrow content. Granted it's not the most serious book I've ever read but it's a lot of fun. Sometimes silly-fun.

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