novel in translation
Otsuki, a recovered drug addict, is drawn into a project by the calligrapher Koyama featuring a pornographic movie.
I could not handle how bizarre this novel was. So bizarre. So weird and full of unlikeable characters and strange situations. And how bleak and so-very-not-nice the world was painted as-metaphysically. And the women in the book...objectified, harridans, and presented as worthless. I despised the main character whose flaws were never really explained seriously-just “issues with his family” type-and so I didn’t care about his downward spiral. Really just didn’t care, I have little sympathy for people with parasitic lifestyles it seems. There’s like no attempt to have a plot that makes sense and so, yes, there’s loads of plot holes and no attempt to resolve them. So his labyrinthine nightmare of narcissism, unseen malign forces, and misogyny left me cold and uncaring. The only thing of interest I took away from the novel was the concept of tomoe-a spiral that indicates harmony and stability-and its opposite.