My brain has been finding it really hard to read – I dont know whether it is that end of year mind-laziness that means it only wants to watch trashy TV and nothing more challenging than Gossip Girl will work, or whether it is simply a reaction to tackling the lond-winded and seemingly pointless The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, but either way my reading has been suffering.
So, I sought refuge in Murakami, one of my favourites. Plus this is a short novel, that would give that satisfaction of finishing all the sooner.
Sputnik Sweetheart is another wonderful book. Our narrator is the nameless K. who loves the author in waiting, Sumire. However, Sumire – always unmoved by romance – finds herself in love with Miu, a beautiful, sophisticated woman 17 years her junior. But Miu has her own story, one that takes place in the dead of night on a Ferris Wheel (trust me, it will make your skin crawl in true mystic Murakami fashion).
When Sumire disappears without a trace, K. travels to Greece and Miu to search for her and make sense of their strange bond. Well worth the read as usual. But I do not recommend Edgar Sawtelle, I gave up half way.