Sputnik Sweetheart

I remember when the Soviets sent the dog, Laika, up in the sputnik to circle the planet. Laika was a sacrifice, and for the little girl, me, that was not a good thing. I still feel that way. I am still haunted by how terribly cruel we are to take our creatures and use them like that. We do it to ourselves every time we turn our backs on a friend's needs or whenever we keep love silent rather than risk rejection. We actually lessen ourselves, metaphorically and often literally never quite realize that we have lost something that cannot be replaced. Murakami knows. He has been there, done or witnessed that, and goodness can he write about it! The sacrifice of dogs is part of a conversation the narrator has with his friend and secret love, Sumire who suffers from serious writer's block. The narrator uses the metaphor of the walled cities in China, how the gates were made of the bones of dead soldiers, and how dogs were sacrificed so that the bones could be baptized with the power to revive to protect the walled city. "A real story requires a kind of magical baptism to link the world on this side with the world on the other side." I felt like I was alone in a sputnik circling my own shadows and dreams and memories and cowardly acts as I immersed myself in this novel of a young man's realization of what matters most in our lives and of what leaves us feeling less. Always metaphorical, Murakami can be appealingly literal and writes the most erotic imaginary sexual encounters and describes male frustration as well as anyone writing. The various ways of love in the story all resonate and one can only hope that as the story continues beyond the book that all find joy in what they have kept of themselves. I first found Murakami's books, not realizing that he was such a popular writer, and I have read them out of order or randomly so far. And so far, I've not been disappointed. I equate this to beginning a passionate affair and finding each new encounter more because of what has come before. In this book, Murakami is in genius mode. He can make writing less more. Sputnik Sweetheart is a great place to become acquainted with the monkey mind that is Murakami.

I am most decidely a fan of Haruki Murakami even though he has produced some not-so-interesting material over the years. 'The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle', a surreal materpiece, remains his best. However I found his most famous 'Norwegian Wood' to be too sentimental for its own good. Thankfully with 'Sputnik Sweetheart' the author has found the right blend of the surreal and the romantic. I loved it.'Sputnik Sweetheart' is about an odd love triangle where the love is either platonic or something a bit stronger yet unfulfilled; there is no sex in this book. Murakami, with no doubt significant credit to the translator, excels in expressing each of the unique character's loneliness without being too depressing. Cerebral without taking itself too seriously. And as for the surreal element ... it works very nicely (no spoilers here!).Bottom line: a elegant piece of modern literature. Read it.

I'll admit first off that Murakami is one of my all time favorites and I've read every one of his novels available in English. I still think his masterpiece is The Wind Up Bird Chronicle for its sheer mass and scope, but I was impressed by this novel for just the opposite. In this rather short and seemingly simple novel, some of the deepest and most profound thoughts and events take place. Like our narrator in Norwegian wood, we have a young man devoted to a girl, in this case the lovable Sumire. Unfortunately, she feels no desire for him and instead falls in love with a married women. This is where things turn into Vintage Murakami with surrealistic events taking place (old Murakami fans will think of the elevator to another time zone type of thing). Here, Sumire disappears and our narrator sets out in search of her. What he ultimately discovers is what the reader will uncover.The prose is very sparse compared to his other novels, but I think Murakami does well in this kind of minimalist style which has a seething undercurrent lurking just beneath the surface. The emotions are heartfelt and deep -- our narrator suffers for his love and devotion. Not only another excellent Murakami novel, but an accessible one that should earn him some new fans. Hopefully this novel will direct new readers to his earlier masterworks.

Most of Murakami's work revolves around a common theme -- the sense of isolation people feel and how easy it is for this loneliness to break your spirit and leave you little more than an empty shell. Sputnik Sweetheart focusses on the sense of loss people feel when they discover that love is fleeting and realize that the closeness they share with someone today will soon fade and may never be recaptured. The plot is fairly straight-forward. K is in love with his best friend Sumire, an aspiring writer who considers K to be a close friend, but nothing more. Sumire, in turn, is madly in love with Miu, a married wine importer who lost the capacity for love when she went through a traumatic experience as a student. Sumire sets aside her writing to work as Miu's personal assistant, and the two head off to Europe on a business trip. Sumire mysteriously disappears, and Miu summons K to help search for her.Each of the novel's characters is scarred by loss, and like the Sputnik, each character feels isolated, connected to the world and the people around them by the most thin and tenuous of threads. Miu suffers a traumatic experience as a young student which leaves her half a person and turned her hair white. As K sees her for the last time, she is a hollow shell, and her white hair reminds K of bone that has had every bit of life bleached from it.Sumire's sense of loneliness is even greater. Having never previously experienced or even understood love, she falls completely for Miu only to realize that Miu will never love her back. Like two satellites briefly passing each other in space, never to meet again, Sumire realizes that the has grown as close to Miu as she ever will and that she will eventually lose what little she has. She imagines another world where Miu's lost half still lives and abandons our world to seek Miu there. K too feels isolated. As Sumire becomes increasingly enamored with Miu, K sees his best friend and closest confident slip away. When Sumire disappears for good, K does his best to move on with life, but the sense of loss stays with him, and as the novel concludes, K finds himself tempted to join Sumire somewhere in that other world.If you're a Murakami fan, you need no encouragement to read this book. If you're new to Murakami and are wondering which work to start with, Sputnik Sweetheart will provide you with an excellent introduction to Murakami's writing and leave you wanting more. This is a beautifully written novel, and Murakami's simple, eloquent prose conveys they characters' loneliness like few other writers can. Bravo Murakami! We eagerly await your next book.

murakami's everyman K takes us into his lands of loss, longing and unrequited love. there's something very special about this compact novel- murakami's narrative voice is somewhat more vunerable than in his previous works, and his tightly repressed dialogue offsets a few scenes of fierce eroticism.once again our narrator is passive; his inaction serves as a ground and sounding board for his best friend sumire, a would-be writer who he is not-so-secretly in love with. when she disappears on a business trip to an unnamed greek island things become strange, in a way wholly familiar to murakami's readers.this feels a lot like some of the short stories, particularly "sleep" and "tv people" where you wonder what is "real". the narrator spends a lot of time asking questions, mulling over events, but nothing is ever resolved. the enjoyment is in the blurring.don't let the simplicity of the story put you off; there's a poetic beauty to the chilly isolation these characters find themselves in. a few days after finishing this, something in it snuck up on me and i was overwhelmed by the most profound feeling of sadness.