1Q84

The plot of Haruki Murakami's 1Q84--originally released in three volumes in Japan, but published as a single, sprawling novel for American readers--defies easy summarization, but here are some starting points: a young woman in Tokyo with the unlikely name of Aomame ("green peas") starts noticing little details that make her wonder if she's slipped into a parallel universe. (The Japanese word for the number 9 is a homonym for the letter Q, as in "question mark.") In another part of the city, an aspiring novelist named Tengo is hired by an editor to rewrite a 17-year-old girl's weirdly compelling fantasy so it can be submitted for a literary prize; the story is connected to the religious cult from which the young girl escaped seven years ago. Meanwhile, Aomame, who secretly murders men who commit domestic violence and sexual abuse, has just been assigned her next victim: the leader of that cult.

"This is starting to sound like science fiction," Aomame thinks to herself early on--even before she notices a second moon in the sky--and at least one of 1Q84's obsessively specific music references is almost certainly an Easter egg for Philip K. Dick fans who find the novel's metaphysical themes familiar. It's a subtle clue, though, and blends in invisibly with the other musical fixations--from Bach to Louis Armstrong--and the meticulous detailing of the meals characters prepare for themselves (a Murakami trademark). Some passages get bogged down in expository dialogue, and other scenes might earn Murakami a spot on this year's Bad Sex in Fiction shortlist. When 1Q84's central concepts click, though, it becomes as weirdly compelling as the fictional story that sets everything in motion, and as you learn more about the tenuous threads that bind Tengo and Aomame, you may find yourself rooting for them to find each other. Don't worry about all the questions left unanswered; accept Murakami's strange, unsettling world knowing you'll be able to find your way back much more easily than his characters. --Ron Hogan, founder of Beatrice.com

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