That's my first reading for Haruki Murakami, and won't be the last :)
I wished I could read it in Japanese, but my Japanese is still not that good!

Haruki Murakami's book seems different from other books I've read! It's a mixture of magical realism, love, books and music!

n  n

n  n    “The answer is dreams. Dreaming on and on. Entering the world of dreams and never coming out. Living in dreams for the rest of time.”n  n

What a tragic love story! Could it be considered a "love triangle"? Maybe!

So in this book,there are 3 main characters:
➺ The narrator, K: He works as a teacher, he loves reading, and has "Sumire" as his only friend, he falls in love with her but doesn't confess his feelings to her.
➺ Sumire: Her dream is to become a novelist, she loves reading novels and tries her best to write about her life in better way, but she stops writing when she starts working with "Miu", she has feelings for "Miu" from the first time she met her at Sumire's cousin wedding.
➺ Miu: She is Korean who lived in Japan for a long time, and is 17 years older than "Sumire". She asks "Sumire" to work with her as her secretary.

When Miu travels with Sumire for work, they go to many countries in Europe and end in Greece in a small island for vacation, Miu tells her about what happened to her 14 years ago in the Ferris wheel in a small town in Switzerland near the French border. And why her hair turned all white although she is around 38 or 39 years old.
Sumire feels sorry for her, and confesses her feelings to Miu, but Miu refuses her.

Then "Sumire" disappears, like Smoke!!

n  n

n  n    “We're both looking at the same moon, in the same world. We're connected to reality by the same line. All I have to do is quietly draw it towards me.”n  n

Will "Sumire" return? No body knows!

✏ P.S. I feel the narrator has an important role in the book, but when you read it you feel his role is ignored somehow!
I mean, he narrates the book only although he is one of the "love triangle" matter!

スプートニクの恋人 = Supūtoniku no Koibito = Sputnik Sweetheart, Haruki Murakami

Sputnik Sweetheart is a profound meditation on human longing. Sumire is an aspiring writer who survives on a family stipend and the creative input of her only friend, the novel's male narrator and protagonist, known in the text only as 'K'.

K is an elementary school teacher, Twenty-five years old, and in love with Sumire, though she does not quite share his feelings. At a wedding, Sumire meets an ethnic Korean woman, Miu, who is Seventeen years her senior. The two strike up a conversation and Sumire finds herself attracted to the older woman. When Sumire disappears from an island off the coast of Greece, K is solicited to join the search party—and finds himself drawn back into her world and beset by ominous visions. Subtle and haunting.

عنوانهای چاپ شده در ایران: «دلدار اسپوتنیک»؛ «اسپوتنیک دلبند من»؛ نویسنده: هاروكی موراكامی؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش روز بیست و دوم ماه مارس سال2022میلادی

عنوان: دلدار اسپوتنیک؛ نویسنده: هاروكی موراكامی؛ مترجم: م عمرانی (معصومه عباسی نتاج‌عمرانی)؛ ویراستار: ویراستار ناکتا رودگری؛ تهران، نوای مکتوب، سال1395؛ در207ص؛ چاپ سوم سال1397؛ شابک9786009666782؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان ژاپن - سده20م

عنوان: اسپوتنیک دلبند من؛ نویسنده: هاروكی موراكامی؛ مترجم: سلماز بهگام؛ ویراستار:علی فتحی‌نجفی؛ مشهد، انتشارات ترانه؛ سال1396؛ در308ص؛ شابک9786007061640؛ از متن انگلیسی ترجمه شده؛ چاپ دیگر سال1398؛

اسپوتنیک، نام ماهواره ای فضایی بود، که در دوازدهم مهرماه سال1336هجری خورشیدی، اتحاد جماهیر شوروی از پایگاه فضایی «بایکونور» به مدار زمین پرتاب کرد؛ تنها سرنشین آن ماهواره، سگی به نام «لایکا» بود که به عنوان نخستین جاندار مدار زمین را دور زد، و در اسپوتنیک و به دور مدار زمین نیز جان داد، با اینکه عنوان «اسپوتنیک» تنها چند بار در متن داستان آمده، اما سود بردن از نام این ماهواره برای نامگذاری این کتاب، هوشمندی «موراکامی» را نشان میدهد

داستان دختری بیست‌ و دو ساله‌ به نام «سومیر» است، که به نویسندگی عشق می‌ورزد؛ از کالج ترک تحصیل کرده تا بتواند به آرزوی دیرینش برسد؛ «سومیر» در سه‌ سالگی مادر خویش را ازدست‌ داده و از شش‌ سالگی با نامادری خود بزرگوار شده؛ نامادری‌ «سومیر» هماره پشتیبان او بوده است؛ خوانش کتاب برای «سومیر» همانند نفس کشیدن لازم بود؛ هماره در گوشه‌ای می‌نشست و کتاب می‌خواند؛ و دلپسند دیگرش گذران ساعتها در کتابخانه‌ها و کتاب‌فروشی‌ها بود؛ ... سپس داستان آشنایی «سومیر»، با زنی میانسال به نام «میو» رو میشود؛ شخصیت‌های کتاب «سومیر»، «میو»، و «کا» راوی داستان نیز هستند؛ «کا» آموزگاری جوان در توکیو است، که به «سومیر» عشق می‌ورزد؛ هرچند این احساس یکسویه است؛ «سومیر» بیشتر روی نویسنده شدن خویش تمرکز دارد؛ داستان از آنجا آغاز می‌شود که «سومیر» در یک عروسی با «میو» آشنا می‌گردد؛ «میو» اهل «کره‌» بود ولی در «ژاپن» بزرگوار ‌شده بود؛ «میو» چندان دلبند کتاب نبود، و داستان‌هایی تنها برای گذران زمان می‌خواند، اما سراغ رمانها نمی‌رفت؛ میاندیشید شخصیت‌ها ساختگی هستند، و نمی‌توانست با آن‌ها همپندار باشد؛ با پیشنهاد کار در شرکت «میو»، زندگی «سومیر» دیگر می‌گردد؛ «سومیر» عاشق شخصیت «میو» شده، و دوست دارد در آینده شبیه «میو» زنی میان‌سال، زیبا، و دل انگیز باشد؛ شاید چیزهایی که بیش از همه «سومیر» آنها را جذب خود کرده، اسراری بود که در بگذشته های «میو» نهفته بود؛ «سومیر» از بگذشته های «میو» تنها همین را می‌دانست که او چهارده سال پیش، تجربه دردناکی داشته، که موجب شده جوانی و شادابی خود را از دست بدهد و به تعبیر خودش به دونیم شود؛ «سومیر» دلش میخواست از بگذشته های «میو» بداند؛ هر چند «میو» چنان نمیخواست؛ و ... باید خود بخوانید

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 03/01/1401هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

"I was alive in the past, and I’m alive now, sitting here talking to you. But what you see here isn’t really me. This is just a shadow of who I was. You are really living. But I’m not. Even these words I’m saying right now sound empty, like an echo"


কোনো বই পড়ে কি মনে হয়েছে প্রচন্ড একাকিত্ব চারপাশ দিয়ে ঘিরে ধরেছে, মনে হয়েছে এতো সৌন্দর্যের মাঝেও আপনি একা??
কোনো বই পড়ে কি আপনার ভেতরে কিছু নেই, পুরোটা ফাঁপা মনে হয়েছে??
কোনো বই পড়ে কি মনে হয়েছে, আপনি মহাকাশে ছুড়ে দেওয়া একটা sputnik, আপনার আশেপাশে শূন্যতা ঘ্রাস করার মতো অন্ধকার, আপনি এগিয়ে চলছেন আলোর আশা নিয়ে???
কোনো বই পড়ে কি কয়েকদিন ধরে মৃত্যু-আগাম-দুঃখ অনুভব করেছেন??

এই বইটি যেন নিঃসঙ্গতা, একাকিত্বের সংজ্ঞা...
ভেতরে হাহাকারের ঝড় তৈরী করে এই বইয়ের গল্প এবং কথাগুলো

বইটা পড়েছিলাম ২০২০-এ, কিন্তু এতদিন কিছু লেখা হয়ে উঠেনি। মনে হয়েছিল "এখনই কিছু না লিখি বইটি নিয়ে".... কারণ কিছু কিছু বই থাকে যেগুলোর অনুভূতি অনেকদিন বাঁচিয়ে রাখতে হয়, বেঁচে থাকে। বেশ অনেকদিন এভাবে অনুভূতি নিয়ে ঘুরেফিরেছি বলেই রিভিউ লিখিনি.....


"Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?"

This first half of the book gave me equal satisfaction as The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid.
But I thought the second part was really ridiculous.

Murakami's writing is different in the sense that this one is a little mainstream compared to his other novels. Nevertheless this book is so charming. The characters are so realistic and character development is so damn amazing.

It's the writing. Yes, his writing. It seems really simple but I have not come across many authors who would express as exactly as what we feel. It's like reading the mirror of your thoughts, feelings and emotions (the narrator's chapters are the highlights of this book).

I changed my mind (previously I rated it 4/5

[9/10]

‘I understand what you mean by precarious. Sometimes I feel so – I don’t know – lonely. The kind of helpless feeling when everything you’re used to has been ripped away. Like there’s no more gravity, and I’m left to drift in outer space. With no idea where I’m headed.’
‘Like a little lost Sputnik?’
‘I guess so.’

Magician Murakami does his literary trick once again, drawing me into his magically weird reality with powerful symbols and intriguing personalities. In the beginning, this one seemed like a minor character study, a love triangle of unrequited yearnings, but it grew steadily on me as I progressed and as Murakami’s use of metaphor, names and imagery coalesced into a sort of emotional rollercoaster ride.

The word ‘semiotic’ puts in an appearance very late in the novel, tied in this case to a telephone box, a recurring theme in the author’s universe as a symbol for the difficulty in communicating meaning and for the real distance between people. Semiotics is a good catch all term for how Murakami does his magic literary tricks. Using one term to convey a different meaning.

Semiotics (also called semiotic studies) is the systematic study of sign processes (semiosis) and meaning making. Semiosis is any activity, conduct, or process that involves signs, where a sign is defined as anything that communicates something, usually called a meaning, to the sign's interpreter. [wikipedia]


The empty space between souls is even greater than a long distance phone call in the case of K, a teacher in his mid-twenties; Sumire, a young girl who aspires to become a writer, and Miu, an older businesswoman of Korean origins. It reaches something along the lines of cosmic proportions. Hence the numerous satellite references.

‘And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they’re nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere.
When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we’d be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.

Sumire, K and Miu cross paths in Tokyo, brought together by their common passions for books, for music, for travel. K is in love with Sumire, but is keeping silent about his feelings in order to preserve their friendship. Sumire falls in love with the older Miu at a wedding party, and is worried that her passion is unnatural. Miu, a former concert pianist, is chased by her own existential demons and keeps her heart carefully locked away.

This satellite dance comes to a crisis on a beautiful island in the Greek archipelago, reinforcing the idea of the briefest window of opportunity for a meeting of souls, of the fragility, the ‘precariousness’ of existence that I quoted earlier.

‘Do you know what Sputnik means in Russian? Traveling companion. I looked it up in a dictionary not long ago. Kind of a strange coincidence if you think about it. I wonder why the Russians gave their satellite that strange name. It’s just a poor little lump of metal, spinning around the earth.’

Sumire and K are such traveling companions, brought together by lengthy and passionate discussions about books, literature, the art of writing.

Devouring books comes as naturally to us as breathing. Every spare moment we’d settle down in some quiet corner, endlessly turning page after page. Japanese novels, foreign novels, new works, classics, avant-garde to best-seller – as long as there was something intellectually stimulating in a book, we’d read it.

For K, the stimulation overflows into erotic dreams about his friend, but in this area, all of Sumire’s feelings tend towards Miu. Friendzoned, our narrator K tries to channel his energy into supporting his friend’s aspirations instead of becoming jealous.

No matter how many choices life might bring her way, it was novelist or nothing. Her resolve was a regular Rock of Gibraltar. Nothing could come between her and her faith in literature.

Sumire, in the Japanese language, means ‘violet’, a delicate flower that can either be evoked in a lyrical song by Mozart, or trampled underfoot in a poem by Goethe. Murakami pushes both meanings at the reader, and then has Sumire write some stories to illustrate his thesis. I love this metafictional component in the author’s fiction – it is always present, but in a subtle way, well integrated into the actual storytelling.

‘Do you do that? Put yourself inside a fictional framework?’
‘I think most people live in a fiction. I’m no exception. Think of it in terms of a car’s transmission. It’s like a transmission that stands between you and the harsh realities of life. You take the raw power from outside and use gears to adjust it so everything’s all nicely in sync.’

Beside using mechanical gear transmission as a metaphor for the soul (for the ID?), we are also offered a comparison between sex and driving a car. [not with riding a bicycle, that overused cliche, but the actual skills needed by a good driver: Are you a good driver? asks one of K’s accidental lovers.

There are gems like these, jazz songs or Joseph Conrad novels, or Gieseking recordings, all over the place in the novel, but a greater accent is put on a couple of apparently incompatible titles: ‘Alice Through the Looking Glass’ by Lewis Carroll and ‘The Wild Bunch’ by Sam Peckinpah. Trust me, Murakami makes sure these references belong here:

‘Did you ever see anyone shot by a gun without bleeding?’

I’m trying hard to avoid spoilers here, so I will just mention that the crisis on the Greek island leaves all three characters bleeding, metaphorically, internally, unable to bridge the distance between them in the short span of time afforded to them.

... and the moon, like some melancholy priest, rests above the rooftop, stretching out its hands to the barren sea.
Who can really distinguish between the sea and what’s reflected in it? Or tell the difference between the falling rain and loneliness?

Apparently, Murakami can tell this difference. Loneliness and unrequited love may be recurrent themes in all his novels, but I don’t seem to get tired of his demonstrations.

My provisional theme here: On a day to day basis I use writing to figure out who I am.

Who I am now is in part the result of the words I have read in books over the years and, why not, of the words I have written down in an effort to understand my reactions to said texts. Like the fictional K. I have used literature as a transmission gear between myself and reality, my dreams as a refuge from hurt.

In dreams you don’t need to make any distinction between things. Not at all. Boundaries don’t exist. So in dreams there are hardly ever collisions. Even if there are, they don’t hurt. Reality is different. Reality bites.

‘So what should we do to avoid a collision? Logically, it’s easy. The answer is dreams. Dreaming on and on. Entering the world of dreams, and never coming out. Living there for the rest of time.’

This is why I hold Murakami in such high regard: despite growing up in such different societies, he somehow finds a way to cross language and cultural barriers and to speak directly to the heart.

Lonely metal souls in the unimpeded darkness of space, they meet, pass each other, and part, never to meet again. No words passing between them. No promises to keep.

I’m glad there are so many more of his books left for me to discover.

SPOILERS

She said: I really wanted to see you. When I couldn’t see you any more, I realized that. It was as clear as if the planets all of a sudden lined up in a row for me. I really need you. You’re a part of me; I’m a part of you.

He thought: We’re both looking at the same moon, in the same world. We’re connected to reality by the same line. All I have to do is quietly draw it towards me.

I might be doing a disservice to Haruki Murakami with my attitude, but the desperate romantic in me, romantic in a fluffy and nausea causing way, cursed with unhealthily and unreasonably optimistic nature, just cannot help but seeing her words as a confession of the love he longs for so much and his thoughts as a belief in and acceptance of that love. Or, as someone who fears loneliness and understands it all too well, I can see it the other way. No one gets the kind of love they need and every one of the characters goes on suffering in the same closed circle, and in the end everything is the same and everyone is lonely and in pain. But I choose not to.

"Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the Earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?"

I think that it’s good for such a story as this one to have an equivocal, open for interpretation finale. I think that the choice it requires of us resembles the choice we might have to make when our own personal stories our concerned. Does others' loneliness (or lack of one) make our own more or less bearable? Or maybe it does both? To what extent and in what way loneliness/happiness is a choice? I think it challanges us to try understanding better the nature of our own state of mind, our life, our ways, our own view of the world.

I wanted to write a real review, but so far I can’t. Yet, I did not want to leave the first Japanese novel I had ever read (and what a novel that was) without some acknowledgement before saying goodbye. I imagined that those four stars, while waiting for me to come up with the substantial review I dream of, would feel awfully lonely on their own. It was a very evocative novel, beautiful, touching, real. I will certainly come back to Haruki Murakami.

Read count: 1

Es curioso lo que me pasa con este libro: sencillamente no puedo otorgarle ninguna estrella. Ni una. Es imposible. Es como si la historia estuviera por encima de 'las estrellas'. O girando en otra galaxia. (Ay, madre, cada vez estoy más loca...jajaja) Pero es así! Supongo que lo único que puedo decir es que sí, que me ha gustado.

“In dreams you don't need to make any distinctions between things. Not at all. Boundaries don't exist. So in dreams there are hardly ever collisions. Even if there are, they don't hurt. Reality is different. Reality bites. Reality, reality.”

A young girl who falls in love. A friend who is always there. A mysterious disappearance. And no clues left whatsoever.

Murakami's absurdist themes allow you to read a book with the eerie feeling of being a part of a dream sequence. Sputnik Sweetheart is a relatively lighter read. Its is one of his relatively shorter novels. Yet, in my opinion, it is right up there among his finest work. This book also gave me serious Twin Peaks vibes due to some of the strange incidents happening in the plotline. Overall, it is an enjoyable read.

Kakav genije. Boli me mozak. Da se niko nije usudio da mi kaže da ne interpretiram ovo zato što Murakami "piše da bi pisao". NE. Ovo je genijalno i želim da spojim sve komadiće.

هى ابهرتنى فعلا وتكاد تفوق كافكا على الشاطئ(تكاد) يمكن تقليديتها مقارنة بكافكا هى اللى اعجبتنى كثير) البطله مبهره بالنسبه لى (مبهره فعلا) وفى مقاطع حسيت ان الكاتب بيتكلم عنى انا .
عامة رواية رائعه . اللغه (رغم الترجمه ) ظاهرة القوة والخفة والتمكن .
الحميميه فى الكتاب تجذبك وتركيزة الضوء على العلاقات الانسانيه المختلفه شدنى جدا.
تحس ان الكاتب بيتكلم عن اشخاص تعرفهم وبتقابلهم فى حياتك.
روايه انصح بها بشده وخاصة لمن يريد القراءه فى الادب الآسيوى واليابانى بصفه خاصه

متهيألي هاروكي بياخد كل موقف مر به في حياته وهو شاب او شخصية قابلها قديما ليرسم خط او حياة خيالية علي اساس ذلك الموقف او الشخصية
مثل فيلم تأثير الفراشة لاشتون كوتشر، كذا حياة بدايتها واحدة ولكن مع اشخاص مختلفة، ويضم لكل رواية تيمة واحدة لأهم ما تأثر به ويعتبره اساسي في اي حياة سيتخيلها سواء عاشها او لم يعشها
الموسيقي.. الجنس... حب القراءة... القطط... واخيرا وهو اهمهم الوحدة
اعتقد ان هاروكي يكتب عن نفسه وان كل بطل في رواياته يوجد به جزء من هاروكي

“Por profunda y fatal que sea la pérdida, por importante que sea lo que nos han arrancado de las manos, aunque nos hayamos convertido en alguien completamente distinto y sólo conservemos, de lo que antes éramos, una fina capa de piel, a pesar de todo, podemos continuar viviendo, así, en silencio.”

“Quizá todas las cosas ya estén perdidas de antemano secretamente en un lugar remoto. Al menos existe un lugar tranquilo donde todas las cosas van fundiéndose, unas sobre otras, hasta conformar una única imagen.”

Este libro es diferente, con una esencia diferente y un aura que te envuelve. Sería injusto definir con palabras lo que me ha hecho sentir.