This book is where Murakami and Mitchell collide. Yes that comparison is largely because the book is set in Japan but the parts with Mrs. Sasaki's sister are deeply reminiscent of Murakami and the sanatorium reminds me heavily of Norwegian Wood.

Comparisons to Norwegian Wood make sense considering they are both to a large degree bildungsroman (but so is Kafka On the Shore you might say). It's because Norwegian Wood is Murakami's most realist story that the comparison holds. A notable difference in style is that while Mitchell's surreal elements can all be explained as either stories within stories or coincidence, the lines between real and surreal are more blurred in Murakami's writing. The parts where Eiji is daydreaming wouldn't have been just daydreams in a Murakami book.

That doesn't make Number9dream any less fantastic, the novel has lots of highly unlikely but very real things happening, encounters with Yakuza, Kaiten Submarines, a computer hacker recruited by the CIA. These occurrences would probably be believable if just one of them happened but Mitchell's stories are jammed with these bizarre happenings. Mitchell's native English abilities also mean that his turn of phrase is much stronger and his evocative imagery has a different effect to Murakami's pared back simplicity. Perhaps some of Murakami's skill is lost in translation. This book is a great read, start here if you're coming from Murakami, if not, start with Ghostwritten.

I can smugly say that at this moment, I've read all of David Mitchell's novels there are. That is, except for the one I'll never get to read because it's part of this ridiculous novels-for-the-future project, which frustrates me with every part of my being, because I can't truly understand what possible benefit it endows to have books first read 100 years from now. No way that they're hurt by being read before now. I mean, they'll probably be hilarious in unintentional ways, as the world will have moved on, and maybe still good enough to stand the test of time, but as a voracious reader, the idea that those books are written and I will never read them, unless I believe in reincarnation or that immortality is coming far sooner than the best guesses? It makes me very stressed out and angry.

Note: The rest of this review has been withheld due to the changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.

In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook

2.5*

Found myself somewhere in the middle of rating scales. There were parts that I enjoyed and then there were dreams that didn't make any sense or perhaps my pea sized brain was unable to dissect and deduct any conclusion of what I had read. Will write more once I gather my thoughts on this or whatever I will be left with of this book in my memories.

“Dromen zijn kusten waar de oceaan van de geest raakt aan het land van de materie”, lees ik op pagina 401. Mitchell is een van mijn favoriete auteurs. Ik was ondersteboven van Wolkenatlas, De niet verhoorde gebeden van Jacob de Zoet, Tijdmeters én Utopia Avenue. En nu lees ik deze… Zucht. Dit is géén vijfsterrenroman, daarvoor zijn er te veel saaie en onverstaanbare fragmenten. Dit is ook geen eensterrenroman, daarvoor zijn de ijzersterke fragmenten te talrijk. Mijn drie sterren zijn een compromis. Sommige stukken zijn subliem, andere geven me het gevoel dom te zijn. Ik versta elk woord dat ik lees maar de samenhang ontglipt me volledig. Het boek lijkt een imitatie van de magische stijl van Murakami, maar is niet over de hele lijn geslaagd. Heel gewelddadig verhaal ook. Soms dacht ik in een film van Tarantino te zijn beland. Die afgrijselijke afrekening op de bowlingbaan! Enkel voor de doorzettende fan met een sterke maag.

Disorienting, Hazy and a waste of time.
As if marking the book as Abandoned wasn't enough tourture for my pitiful brain, I decided to rejoin where I had left since the mystery of Eiji's father haunted me for two nights!!

Since it's David Mitchell there's definitely aristocratic writing involved, a feeling that no single person can write chapters so distinct but that's DM.

Some parts from the book are splendid. The Kaiten episode, Queen of Spades game and the Pizza delivery magic tricks however sadly the book doesn't actually go anywhere but shuffles in and out of dreams and reality.

The last chapter is totally awesome. I could finish it with ease since it was the simplest of them all

It's bloody BLANK! Nothing to read but the title.
Stoked!


Fortunately my rating remains the same.
Ps. If you hate Murakami books, Don't even dare to think of picking this up!
-------

Number9dream wasn't for me. Sad.
1 Quest for a missing dad and 99 rambles is what the book was for me.

I tried really hard to stay with the author's various hints and stories but alas I had to give up.

Number9dream is about Eiji Miyake who is a small town teenager living in Tokyo and is on a quest to find his father.(so far)

David Mitchell's writing no doubt is super excellent but sadly this one is too hard to read. I almost lost my sense of reality when the stuttering Goatwriter, Mrs. Comb and Pithecanthropus landed in the book.

Tokyo's lifestyle, it's Mafia and Miyake's struggle is a delight to read. I still am Interested in finding out How does Eiji find his dad however I lack the patience to wade ahead.

There were so many 9's
Which was really fine
But would have been Divine
Had we known what it mean in Realtime

:D

Ps. And oh I spotted Two characters from his last book. I'm sure more would be coming across ahead.

Very good. Very weird.

You'll probably appreciate this more if you're a Beatles fan or more specifically a John Lennon fan (took me a while to even realize that the title is a song from The White Album). There are a lot of great individual moments in this bizarre coming-of-age story, but after a while the entire tapestry began to impress me. It may not present itself as such, but it really is true to life in many ways-- especially the influence of dreams and memory.

There's also an incredibly life-like sadness to it. The way Eiji loses his twin sister... his relationship with his mother (and the letters she sends!)... the ultimately anti-climactic meeting with his father, Eiji's quest for whom had more or less been the engine of the entire plot... it all feels right. The 'Goatwriter' stories are singularly weird, of course, but they make for an interesting interlude.

This has been described as Dickensian, probably due to the whole orphan-seeking-his-father plot, but for other reasons it reminded me of The Pickwick Papers. The way Eiji goes from job to job, and plan A to plan F, made for a great deal of the capital-e Ecstasy that Arthur Machen indicated as the mark of fine literature. A constant, renewed sense of wonder, never knowing what's going to happen next.

“A semi-orphan comes to Tokyo in search of the father he has never met”, says a man to Eiji Miyake, speaking not of himself, but of Eiji. In a simple sentence, it is the truth. This is Eiji's quest. Through his long, twisting and sometimes fantastically dangerous journey, I learned that the quest can get in the way of the real purpose. Eiji's real truth will be revealed through the people he meets along the way, and the past that follows him, found only within a huge city among millions where he first embarks alone.

After finishing this book, I couldn't help but try to decipher the meanings, which are many. It's that kind of book. For the most part, I think the ending is left up to each of us, and within it I found an answer (frustrating as it may be for some). Much of the rest, like how John Lennon fits into Miyake's story, why the number 9 relates to each circumstance, or the meanings of the imaginative dreams that fill his sleep, are not so easy. Understanding them may be as elusive as interpreting our own dreams. I'm good with that, because I don't think my understanding matters as much as it does Eiji's.

Neem een beetje Murakami, een Nintendo-game, wat Manga en een Lennon-song, mix goed en je krijgt ongeveer dit! Bij aanvang lijkt het of je plots naar Nickelodeon aan het kijken bent, terwijl je verstand nog op de evangelische omroep staat. Je moet een paar keer sneller schakelen.
Moeilijk om te beoordelen en ik heb niet alles begrepen. Maar mijn VHS- speler spoelt niet meer terug. Ik twijfel tussen 3,5 en 4 sterren. Dat laatste dan maar, dankzij de ongetemde fantasie van Mitchell.
De sterren blikkeren, roteren en spatten uit elkaar...
It’s just a dream.

Hay libros que suponen un auténtico reto. Cada uno de los lectores es víctima del suyo propio. Hay libros como Lolita que no están hechos para todo el mundo. Autores que se resisten por mucho que uno lo intente pero también otro tipo de barreras. El de Number9dream es el idioma. Pero no os asustéis antes de tiempo, David Mitchell asusta pero no tanto. Simplemente hay que tener cierto nivel y paciencia, paciencia para entender qué está pasando. Paciencia para avanzar mucho más lento que de costumbre con un libro en inglés que normalmente no te cuesta leer tanto. Superado ese reto Number9dream es todo vuestro. O casi. Si la memoria no me falla, creo recordar que este es el segundo libro del autor, publicado por primera vez en 2001 (o así), y diría que un segundo "acto" lo suficientemente impresionante para gustar hasta a los lectores más exigentes. Eso sí, haters de Haruki Murakami, es mejor dejar pasar este, pues no en vano en la ficha de Goodreads del autor figura el nombre del autor nipón. Y es que David Mitchell supo plasmar algunos de los elementos que más le caracterizan y adaptarlo a su estilo. Aquí no hay chicas con orejas perfectas, pero sí cuellos perfectos. Los momentos de realismo mágico quizás puedan chocar demasiado al principio, y confundir al lector hasta el punto de no entender qué está pasando, (algunas cosas sigo sin entenderlas incluso ahora) pero en su conjunto Number9dream es una novela que pese a sus defectos sigue siendo maravillosamente construida, escrita y, sobre todo, ambientada.

Eiji Miyake es un joven de 19 años que está dispuesto a todo para encontrar a alguien. Para ello decide dejar todo atrás y mudarse a Tokio donde está la única pista que tiene para encontrar algún rastro más sobre el paradero de su padre. Sobre quién es él. Necesita respuestas aunque por ahora ni siquiera tenga claras las preguntas. Buscar a alguien sin saber si quiera su nombre en una ciudad como es Tokio puede ser un completo suicidio y Eiji lo sabe bien, sabe que esto le llevará su tiempo. Busca trabajo en diferentes lugares de la ciudad, alquila una pequeña habitación en un hotel cápsula en el cual se hace amigo de su propietario pero también hace una serie de curiosas amistades, cada cual más extraña que la anterior. Number9dream es en ese aspecto una caja de personajes extravagantes. La primera, una camarera que trabaja en una cafetería a la que Eiji va muy a menudo y que aparecerá en más de una ocasión a lo largo de la novela. La hermana de Eiji, a la que conocemos poco a poco, a medida que él se va acordando de historias de cuando eran pequeños y vivían los dos con su abuela. Yuzu Daimon, al cual conoce de casualidad y quien le arrastrará a una de las noches más locas de toda su vida. Buntaro, su mujer y su madre, un trío al que Eiji cogerá muchísimo cariño. Todos ellos tendrá algo que aportar en la vida de Eiji. El patrón que usa David Mitchell recuerda muchísimo a Murakami. El abandono de un ser que se busca desesperadamente. Una chica de la que uno acaba prendado de un modo u otro, ya sea por su oreja o su cuello perfecto. Pero sobre todo una corriente invisible que aunque a primera vista parece que no nos esté llevando a ningún lado, en realidad nos hace avanzar continuamente.

Pese a sus extravagancias, situaciones inverosímiles que a ratos cuesta pillar y una cantidad de situaciones cotidianas enorme, la historia de Number9dream es más bien simple; Eiji hace todo lo posible para encontrar a su padre, aunque las consecuencias pueden ser catastróficas. A su vez su madre busca su perdón, por eso, por medio de una serie de cartas lograremos entender un poco mejor por qué está haciendo todo esto. Cuál es el sentido de este viaje. Para qué sirve aguantar ciertas cosas y poner su vida en peligro. Y es que una de las cosas más extrañas que he leído en este libro (y eso que he leído cosas extrañas aquí) pero a la vez más tópica si lo pienso bien, es que uno de los hilos argumentales de la novela tiene que ver con los yakuzas. No sé si la idea inicial era incluir ese arco ya desde que David Mitchell pensó en la novela o si simplemente la quería hacer lo más asequible posible a sus lectores. Y es que al igual que pasa con Murakami, Number9dream es un libro bastante "occidentalizado", de tal modo, que perfectamente podría haber pasado en Nueva York y el protagonista llamarse Alex, aunque no sería lo mismo. Pues lejos de la importancia de la historia en sí, la ambientación general de Number9dream resulta ser una experiencia exquisita para el lector.

Algunos lectores puede que queden un tanto desencantados con el conjunto. Un todo-esto-para-qué pero realmente aquí lo que importa es el camino y no el resultado final. A veces puede parecer un poco repetitivo, a veces, parece que las cosas se quedan estancadas pero el arco argumental llega a su fin. Todo se acaba. La historia se cierra. Y tú te preguntas si hubieras hecho lo mismo que él al final. Si hubieras formulado las preguntas. Si hubieras hecho todo esto. Si valía la pena. Yo digo que sí.

Spending New Year's away from home with less than a chapter left in my book – and no back-up book – was always going to be a stupid mistake. Luckily, when everybody else foolishly headed out for a New Year's Day walk in the rain I was able to raid my host's bookcase and grabbed a copy of David Mitchell's number9dream; I'd enjoyed Cloud Atlas enough to try something from earlier...

number9dream is the story of Eiji Miyake: a twenty year old Japanese lad from Yukashima who has arrived in Tokyo with the intention (or you might say dream) of meeting his father. Eiji is an effective orphan. His mother is a absent and his father is completely unknown. Instead he grew up with his extended family and his sister, Anju. We follow Eiji throughout his entire time in Tokyo, tracking his father down, getting into scrapes with the local Yakuza (some of the Yakuza storylines felt a little bit over the top and convenient), falling for a girl; through to meeting his father, realising his father's a bit of a dick and he's better off without him, and reconciling with his mother. These aren't really spoilers, because the outcome of the story isn't the point. The point is the journey and the form.

Because what's immediately apparent is that Cloud Atlas wasn't a one-off. Mitchell has always been the kind of author who delights in letting us know that he's clever enough to be able to fuck about with conventional story-telling narrative techniques. Making it clear that he refuses to be trapped by, or conform to, our simplistic notions of how a story should be. He is better than that. His use of form is all – even if the story suffers. Not so much unreliable narrator as unreliable author. But, to give him his due, it is pretty clever – he even manages to get the title to his later novel Cloud Atlas into this book. You just start to wonder if clever is all he's got.

Each of the nine chapters is marked with an icon to represent it. An empty square, a diamond of four smaller contiguous diamonds, the astrological symbols for cancer and leo, the Japanese characters 回天 (Kai Ten), etc. Some seem to be tightly tied to the events in that chapter, others less so. Each chapter has two narratives running through it. The main narrative is the story of Eiji, the secondary narrative is the 'dream': a series of fantasy alternative events, flashbacks to his childhood with his sister Anju, a video game, a series of short stories he's reading, diary entries, etc. Again, some of them integrate well, others feel more like Mitchell was just searching for a second narrative. As the chapter switches between the two narratives they are coded with the chapter's icon or a solid diamond. This feels quite structured at first, but kind of becomes less rigid as the book progresses – almost like Mitchell kind of forgot why he was doing it and got bored. Then, ultimately, the book comes full circle as Eiji realises that a minor event at the start of the novel has become key to the completion of the end.

The ninth chapter is empty. Like those pages in technical manuals that say "this page left deliberately blank". This is explained by Lennon himself, in one of the 'dream' narratives, because "The ninth dream begins after every ending.".

I recently implied that David Mitchell could do no wrong. Without a doubt, he is a tremendously talented author. Then I began reading number9dream and was immediately worried I'd have to eat my words. number9dream starts unlike any other Mitchell book; sure Mitchell has an eclectic style, but there's a certain feel to his books—the idea that regardless of subject or genre, all the stories are somehow tied together. number9dream didn't feel like a part of the Mitchell universe—it felt more like a poor attempt at Murakami minus the cats.

What's surprising is that my feeling didn't change as I read: number9dream bears more semblance to a Murakami-hack than to anything Mitchell could've written. It's easily my least favorite of Mitchell's works and likely will always remain such --until I read The Thousand Autumns...-- (it brings to mind the term 'sophomore slump'). It doesn't tie into Mitchell's other works the way I love—or at least in no way I saw—and that was disappointing. All that being said, it is still David Mitchell. The writing is superb. In fact, relying less on tricks, number9dream relies more on great writing. The sentences and scenes Mitchell turns out are gorgeous. Sure, all of it feels like a horrible acid trip, but it's a riveting and beautiful acid trip.

number9dream lacks the continuity, relevance, and drive that one usually finds in David Mitchell, but hey, it's David Mitchell, and that was enough for me.

number9dream is a story about 20-year old Miyake set in modern Tokyo with its coffee shops and pizzerias, its subways, mafia and video parlors. Miyake goes there to find his father, whom he’s never met, and to ease the tight cord that binds him to his twin sister, whose death he feels responsible for. It is a hectic book, which is a bit much at the beginning with its false starts, but it finds its groove.

I admit I went back and forth on the book, finding it sometimes too busy, sometimes tedious, sometimes lyric and endearing, often very imaginative, and sometimes of questionable aesthetic. It isn’t perfect. In the end I decided I liked it. Above par, certainly. 3 and half or so, not quite 4.

As a coming-of-age story, there’s plenty of youthful exuberance, which in language terms means exaggerating/using superlatives. I found this funny but sometimes also a bit affected.

For example:
"It is the hottest afternoon in the history of September." p. 132
"A sigh as long as the end of the world." p. 136
"I am running a temperature as high as this bridge." p. 149
"These places have longer waiting lists than Grateful Dead guitar solos." p. 152.
"Genji’s joint is a poky joint … and last painted when Japan surrendered." p. 224.
"At three am Sachiko brings me a mug of the thickest coffee known to chemistry." p. 308.

Ah well, hyperbole belongs to the young.

One thing I like about David Mitchell is how he weaves disparate elements and approaches into his storytelling, his cross-referencing and cultural allusions. Some of #9, for example, is journal entries. Some of it is story segments by a writer character who never actually appears in the book. There are many dreams, authentically told, and John Lennon songs, of course. And there’s plenty of echoes of Haruki Murakami.

I am left wondering what Ai Imajo saw in Eiji Miyake, but I am admittedly small-hearted.

#9 was entertaining and engaging, but for all its flash and imagination I don’t think it was a particularly challenging book, and that was what left me at times lukewarm. Still, as ee cummings told me as a child, may my heart always be open to little birds and if there ever was a little bird this is it.