'Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World' by Haruki Murakami

Once more do I journey into the strangely beguiling world of Mister Murakami, Haruki in this case, not Ryu or Takashi, though they are also on my cultural radar…if indeed I have a cultural radar. Anyway, enough about me - Murakami’s is a world which resembles ours in many ways, only it burns a bit brighter at the edges and feels a great deal more surreal, often with a capital S. Though I am yet to finish last year’s 1Q84, the astonishing three-part epic which caused a huge stir in the author’s native Japan, I simply could not resist another sneaky little trip to Murakami-land. So, with the fate of 1Q84’s Aomame and Tengo still to be determined, I plumped instead for the not so snappily titled Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. So, what did I think of it?

I liked it a lot. I may not have enjoyed it quite as much as Norwegian Wood or Dance, Dance, Dance or books one and two of the aforementioned 1Q84 trilogy but, given that I pretty much adore all of these books, this isn’t much of a disparagement. On top of having the most bizarre title of any Murakami I have read so far, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World is also the weirdest work in general. While Norwegian Wood, for example, is deeply concerned with humanity and how we humans relate to one another, Hard-Boiled Wonderland is more preoccupied with the relationship between reality and dreams and the notion of parallel universes. Put simply, it wouldn’t seem out of place in the science fiction section, hobnobbing with the Asimovs and the Philip K. Dicks. It may even be more sci-fi than 1Q84, but don’t quote me on that until I finish book three. Please.

Yet in spite of its more esoteric leanings Hard-Boiled Wonderland does have a lot in common with much of the Murakami I have read previously. There is the lonely male protagonist, divorced presumably, living a quiet, solitary life until some strange individual or organisation comes along and requests his participation in some weird and wonderful scheme. The protagonist is invariably a man of simple yet refined tastes (imported American whiskey, Bob Dylan, jazz music) but his unique skills render him indispensable. There are the women, complex and convincingly drawn, who never say what women are ‘supposed’ or 'expected’ to say and who are always more than just eye candy for the befuddled protagonist. And, of course, there is Murakami’s Japan: a perfect marriage of past Edo-era splendour and western popular culture. And it is a combination that never gets old.

Overall, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World might not be Haruki Murakami’s magnum opus but, hell, it doesn’t need to be. The book has all the goods you would expect from Murakami plus a nice dose of intrigue which science fiction fans are sure to appreciate. And while you may often pause and wonder just what exactly is going on - what is the difference between a Calcutec and a Semiotec? Why do none of these characters have names? Why does this remind me of Sliding Doors? - it is difficult to care too much when the execution is so wonderful and redolent with beauty. Fans of Murakami ought to love it.

This piece was originally published on alisonlaurabell.tumblr.com in August 2012.