From the Fatherland, with Love

by Ryū Murakami, Ralph McCarthy (Translator), Charles De Wolf (Translator)

The world has turned its back on Japan: it has been economically devastated, thrown into political turmoil—and then attacked.

A small team of highly trained, ruthless North Korean special forces troops invade the city of Fukuoka, holding the residents hostage. This is the vanguard of operation 'From the Fatherland, with Love'—and if nothing is done to stop them, 120,000 more troops will follow.

And while the government seems incapable of acting, there is one possible source of resistance: a troubled gang of psychotic misfits, masters of guns, explosives and toxins, self-taught and unhinged. But they are driven only by a desire for chaos, and death.

Thrilling, bloody and unstoppable, From the Fatherland, with Love is a vast, mad achievement: an all-too-believable, vividly realised alternate present, with the careening, incendiary power of Murakami at his terrifying best.

Genres: Fiction, Japan, Japanese Literature, Dystopia, Politics, Alternate History, Thriller

668 pages, Paperback

First published March 25, 2005

About the author

Ryū Murakami (村上 龍) is a Japanese novelist and filmmaker. He is not related to Haruki Murakami or Takashi Murakami.

Murakami's first work, the short novel Almost Transparent Blue, written while he was still a student, deals with promiscuity and drug use among disaffected Japanese youth. Critically acclaimed as a new style of literature, it won the newcomer's literature prize in 1976 despite some observers decrying it as decadent. Later the same year, Blue won the Akutagawa Prize, going on to become a best seller. In 1980, Murakami published the much longer novel Coin Locker Babies, again to critical acclaim.

Takashi Miike's feature film Audition (1999) was based on one of his novels. Murakami reportedly liked it so much he gave Miike his blessing to adapt Coin Locker Babies. The screen play was worked on by director Jordan Galland. However, Miike could not raise funding for the project. An adaptation directed by Michele Civetta is currently in production.

Murakami has played drums for a rock group called Coelacanth and hosted a TV talk show.

Reviews

[Sean Wilson · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is Ryū Murakami's War and Peace, his Gravity's Rainbow, his Demons, his 1984. At nearly 700 pages, From the Fatherland, With Love is a sprawling, violent and occasionally hilarious political satire. With pretty much all of Ryū Murakami's books, this existentialist tale is so much more than what the synopsis describes it as.

Shifting between complex political speculation to image-intensive narrative, all with strikingly brilliant and informative prose, Murakami analyzes Japan in economic meltdown in the 21st century, where post-9/11 paranoia runs deeply throughout the story, every page sprinkled with Pynchon-esque paranoia, making the story a meditation on post-war Japan. If there is a synopsis (more like a surreal surface story), it's about a group of North Korean renegade soldiers who infiltrate and occupy Fukuoka, leaving a perplexed Japanese government struggling to deal with these violent soldiers and their stringent demands.

Despite this rather dark premise, there is an element of absurdity running right through the novel, where it is impossible not to laugh. While giving a 'grand tour' of their temporary base in Fukuoka to a scared and sensitive Japanese doctor, a North Korean soldier lightheartedly details a recipe for some extremely delicious cookies. Also, a group of nihilistic young misfits show off their new guns and weaponry in catwalk-like fashion, and a bar owner in Tokyo is more interested in playing his jazz vinyls, his Wes Montgomery or Bill Evans records, than all of the events occurring in Fukuoka.

The ever surreal Murakami, however, doesn't shy away from his vintage violence and bloody moments. Psychology, existentialism and poor upbringing are important recurring themes in Ryū Murakami's novels, and this is evident in his typically violent and disillusioned young adults with insanely troubled childhoods living a raw, nihilistic existence. These are men who are morally empty, comical and also the most human in some weird Murakami way, with violence influencing their every thought and action.

From the Fatherland, with Love is an unbelievable and incredibly mad achievement in story telling and speculation.

[Leo Robertson · Rating 2 out of 5]

Dude I gave this another shot but I bought so many pretty books today and it's like, 'Well of course the Indochinese blah blah blah and the sub-faction of the North Korean blah blah and relations between Japan and those in support of a more libertarian approach to foreign policy' I JUST DON'T FUCKING CARE. AAAAAHHHH!!!

I'm off to read something better.

(Previous review below :D)

Got just over a third the way through- Murakami does Clancy. Too many characters to develop any attachment, too much telling to be gripping, way too much technical information about government set ups and armies and acronyms mercilessly unexplained, and not nearly enough action!

I have no doubt this is very clever and took a lot of effort. But no thank you.

[Meike]

I think by now, I have read more Ryu than Haruki Murakami! :-)

[S. · Rating 3 out of 5]

the most intelligent thing I've seen written about Ryu Murakami is the comment "R. Murakami seems to be able to write in two modes: either the blood-splattered horror-grotesque or the long diagnosis-of-Japan through its undercasts narration." the former, it would seem, tends to be short, intensely good works 5/5 and not a notch less; the latter is a mixed bag, oscillating many times between the 3/5 and the 4. I skipped large sections of 69; Popular Hits of the Showa Era could not rate more than a 3/5; and even Coin Locker Babies did not absolutely sit firmly in the 4 or 5 rating.

with Fatherland, (or "Peninsula," I suppose), it's tough to outright commit to the 3 or 4. the problem is that there are lyrical passages, and Ryu Murakami has created so many amazing things that one feels compelled to attach a holistic halo around his entire body of work. how much cheaper would the world be without Miso Soup? how could we ever remove 'Audition' from our bookshelves? these short, hard-hitting works reside in memory even years after reading...

I've settled on the 4 for this reason, despite the animesque / even science-fictiony over the top passages of this work. the thing is that to some degree we have to counteract all the obsessive love fest going on with HARUKI Murakami, and of course, it's bold and daring to take on the North Korean issue, with a scenario that in some ways isn't as far-fetched as first sight. further, with increasing K-popular culture flooding the world including East Asia, the "invasion by Koreans" thing isn't entirely non-factual-- if, to be sure, there aren't that many north korean commandos walking around Japan (one thinks).

in guess in compromise to the various forces at work here, I'll rate at the 4/5 until there's more traction/readership and then think about the slide down to the high 3. continuation of "Popular Hits of the Showa Era" ; a sort of late career decline from the absolute brilliance of earlier works, animey and over-the-top, but support for Japan's #2 writer !

[Kamakana · Rating 4 out of 5]

310314: this is a long read, long but fast. as a procedural thriller, it starts out slow, starts out detailed, starts out as if to convince the reader of possibility, if not probability, of this korean takeover of a japanese city. wondering how to review this, not myself local, not really aware of typical conventions of the genre as practiced there, decided to look at previous reviews I have given murakami ryu's work. knew what to expect, some: elaborate, grisly, descriptions of ultraviolence. dark side of humans. fascination with extremes emotional, social, cultural. quick portrayals of just how anti-social are our 'heroes', yes vicious and violent and nothing like people you want to cheer for. comic, in a very dark way, there is a 'fashion show' passage displaying weaponry. another description of murderous insects, frogs, lizards etc. did not expect this great length. did not expect the length would cease to be a problem the further into the book...

blurbs tell you what the story is in plot. but. how it is written, how it delays resolution of many lines of plot, of characters? of which the narrative follows mostly the 'koryo' force, then the discards of society- teenage anarchists who offer an unscripted and surprising response, something the government cannot. for fear of public relations. is japan so isolated, so helpless, so ripe for violent takeover? this is what the book spends some pages insisting. not living there, I do not know. comparing this to the murakami haruki work... well, think I have read somewhere that his are soft drugs, ryu's are hard core...

the setup is long, varying through perspectives of many characters, vivid, damning, portrayals of government inaction versus the corrupting influence of local material wealth, compared to extreme poverty, starvation, as remembered by the invaders, but when the action begins it too is long. maybe the length is necessary. do not read many thrillers. this version is different, possibly by locale, though the picture of this society- and how the 'heroes' are not really part of it- makes me suspect this is unique. annoying, I suppose, that it is so long, but he keeps the tension up for the last two hundred or so pages. perhaps the first phase is to convince, the second phase is to experience. it is noticeable that when it gets to 'ground', there are no cuts back to the government, no escape from the gradually advancing suspense. page count is by then no matter. maybe have to read more thrillers to compare, but this really surprised me....

[Kilburn Adam · Rating 5 out of 5]

From The Fatherland With Love is a novel by Ryu Murakami set in a near-future Japan experiencing severe economic crisis, with the yen worth next to nothing, banks closed, and shortages of food and fuel. In this vulnerable state, North Korean special forces invade the city of Fukuoka, taking its residents hostage, leaving the government powerless to act. The North Korean special forces are portrayed as highly trained and well-equipped, and they have the advantage of surprise and initiative in the initial stages of the invasion. Leaving the invaders to control the entire city while awaiting the arrival of another 120,000 soldiers. This leaves a group of disaffected youth, social outcasts, murderers, bombers, and satanists to take on the North Koreans with their own cunning plan and whatever weaponry they have stockpiled, limited resources and no formal military training. The novel explores the theme of how a vulnerable society might react in the face of an invasion by a foreign power, with a group of unlikely heroes rising up to challenge the invaders. It shows how individuals from different walks of life, who are often overlooked or shunned by society, can come together and take action when their country is threatened. The novel also touches on themes of power, authority, and government failure, as the national government is portrayed as ineffectual and unable to respond to the crisis, leaving the citizens to fend for themselves.

[Laurent · Rating 5 out of 5]

It’s quite hard to describe the kind of novel that “From the Fatherland, with love” is, but after mulling this over a few times whilst sitting on the London Underground, I’ve settled on calling it a serious satirical existentialist thriller with a punk sensibility, infused throughout with what I take to be a uniquely Japanese flavour. I’m gambling on that last part, because I don’t know contemporary Japan at all well enough to be able to judge. However, my bet is that this novel makes even more sense within the context of a nation and society wrestling with itself to find its’ place in the world, a sense of purpose, to find some sort of meaning and direction amongst the accumulating ruins of crumbling post-war consensus. Does that sound familiar? That’s probably because similar things are happening all over the world, albeit not in the same way as in Japan. I’m going to stop speculating in the specific Japanese cultural aspects because I’m not qualified to do so, and move on to more universal themes.

This book was published in Japan in 2010, and North Korea and Kim Jong Il are at the centre of it. Between then and the publication of the English translation, Kim Jong Il died, his state endures, and the geopolitics in the area have continued in the direction posited by the author in 2010, so it all reads as a tremendously relevant political thriller from that perspective. Where this differs very significantly from the genre and where I think what I called the punk sensibility that I mentioned becomes prominent is that there are no heroes in this book, no good guys either. There are arguably bad guys, but even the good guys are in fact motivated by quite objectionable reasons. The author has no sympathy for or interest in the states, bureaucracies or hierarchies that use individuals, deliberately or otherwise, as pawns. He is entirely concerned with said individuals, good and bad, Korean or Japanese, hinting that there may be more in common between a peasant from the DRK whose life has been taken over by the state since childhood, and a Japanese kid who is unable to live up to rigid societal norms, than what separates them. Which doesn’t prevent either from being a horrible person of course.

At the heart of the novel is an attempted invasion of Japan by North Korean forces, betting that Japanese government won’t accept risking civilian lives to fight them, and that other powers like the US and China don’t care enough to do anything about it either. It’s pushing the idea of ineffectual liberalism to extremes: even under existential threat, it prevents actors from making decisions that may harm some to benefit the majority. In the end, salvation comes from unpredictable, amoral outcasts, and people being spurred into taking their own destiny in hand. And in that sense, it’s a very hopeful book, but with no illusions about human nature.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

I decided that I wanted to read ‘From the Fatherland with Love’ entirely on the basis of a one sentence plot summary: North Korea invades Japan. I was powerfully intrigued to see how such a scenario could be pulled off remotely plausibly in a contemporary context. In my view, Murakami does manage it, although the resolution requires some suspension of disbelief. In order to be build conviction, however, he has had to sacrifice brevity. Not much of a sacrifice in my view, although I admit that the first hundred pages are a little slow. This is a novel that gives you the big picture by constantly shifting narrative perspectives. I don't think any of the point of view characters gets more than a chapter and the narration frequently tangents into contextual information or long lists of other people involved. This cast of thousands is no doubt why there’s a dramatis personae at the beginning, however I found this wasn’t really necessary. The individuals were mostly interesting in terms of their respective affiliations and roles in wider events.

‘From the Fatherland with Love’ was originally published in 2005 and is set in 2011. This makes it a rare thing for the 21st century - near future fiction that commits to a date. Murakami envisages a prolonged economic crisis in Japan that causes it to become politically weak and diplomatically isolated, while North Korea improves its international position. As I began to read of this, I realised why the financial downturn seemed so realistic - what happens to Japan in 2007 in this fictional world basically happened to Greece in 2010 in the real world. Indeed, unemployment in Greece and Spain is actually much higher than in this supposedly crisis-ridden Japan. The difference lies with the euro, which has obviously prevented a currency devaluation in the more disaster-ridden parts of the eurozone. Murakami’s vision of Japan with a weak yen and no prospect of recovery is certainly a chastening one. Moreover, the idea that North Korea would disavow their invasion party and label them rebel elements seems convincing, at least to create short-term confusion.

The whole novel is bitterly critical of Japanese politicians as ineffectual, confused, and weak, lacking in leadership, direction, and basic common sense. Murakami seems to be saying that Japan is unable to deal with international threats. That said, the North Koreans are hardly presented positively, just differently. The members of the so-called ‘Korean Expeditionary Force’ are shown as dehumanised by the violence and cruelty of the society that has raised and indoctrinated them. Within the range of narrative perspectives, Murakami explores the contrasts between Japanese and North Korean culture very interestingly. This is probably most pronounced in the case of how they deal with violence. The casual attitudes to deadly violence amongst North Koreans produces reactions of shock and horror amongst most, but not all, the Japanese characters. The exceptions are a group of young Japanese men who live on the fringes of society, all (or nearly all) of whom are murderers, arsonists, and/or rapists. The novel takes an ambivalent attitude to them; their crimes are not excused and they are portrayed as mentally ill. Clearly society has no idea what to do with them and they’ve gravitated together because otherwise they’d all be in prison or dead.

As I mentioned, ‘From the Fatherland with Love’ takes a while to get going. This pays off, though, as the plot accelerates inexorably and the reader realises how various groups will inevitably come into conflict. The last third reads as a very tense thriller and had me on the edge of my seat. Indeed, I think the whole novel could be made into an action film, if carefully scripted and edited to convey the political nuances while reducing the cast somewhat. The ending is very satisfying, although I do have some outstanding questions.

The main question I still have is: what was North Korea’s endgame? They achieved a foothold in Japan relatively easily, relying on the element of surprise and extensive hostage-taking, but none of the characters seemed to know the long term plan. It was made clear that a permanent colony would be very expensive for the impoverished North Korean regime to support. Whilst I was rooting for the bombing of the North Korean camp, despite the inevitable collateral damage, I was also very curious about what would happen if it failed. And I felt pretty weird about rooting for a group of psychopathic youth committing an act of terrorism, frankly. Yet this raid was both the most implausible and the most compelling part of the whole book. Having awaited some reaction from the psychopathic youth to the North Koreans for hundreds of pages, the sudden realisation of where the insects had to have come from was an electric moment. The gradual reveal of their plans was very effective.

This novel raises some very difficult questions about dealing with violence. One being: is terrorism justifiable in order to avoid war? While also portrayed as incompetence, the reluctance of the Japanese government to resist North Korean incursion is shown to be understandable. It stems from a refusal to risk civilian casualties. The validity of this concern is made clear by the disastrous failed commando mission halfway through the book. Yet the amateur raid by the violent and alienated youths can also be seen as a least-worst alternative. Although there is considerable collateral damage, the prospect of a fully functioning North Korean military regime being set up on Japanese soil would clearly result in a lot more suffering in the long run. The descriptions of the improvised prison in a hotel basement are chilling. On the other hand, only a regime as insane as North Korea's could inculcate in its military a similar viewpoint and habits to the alienated Japanese youths. Can only mad people effectively fight the army of a mad government? Is meaningful diplomacy possible when the gulf between regimes is so wide? Notwithstanding all of this, my main criticism of the book would be that the violence and gore become somewhat excessive. Said violence is not trivialised, rather there is a detailed examination of how violence can be used by political regimes and the varying reactions this elicits. It is relentless, though, and incredibly graphic. The number of descriptions of lethal gunshot wounds seemed unnecessarily high.

If you can stomach both gore and a lot of initial scene-setting, however, ‘From the Fatherland with Love’ is a very rewarding and thought-provoking read. I wonder how plausible it appears to its Japanese readers. Or indeed its North Korean readers, if any exist.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

Based on the book blurb, From The Fatherland, With Love sounds like a standard by-the-numbers thriller, but that description couldn’t be further from the truth. This novel features an alternate vision of the Earth where things are subtly different.

The brazen North Korean invasion-plan quickly gathers pace as the local authorities, rather ineffectually, run around like headless chickens allowing the Korean special forces to gain a foothold on Japanese soil. Things go from bad to worse as a second larger wave of troops arrive and the government still fails to take any action. Their inability to make any decisions allows the invaders to control the entire town of Fukuoka while awaiting the arrival of another one hundred and twenty thousand soldiers.

This situation results in some wonderfully dark moments, mostly due the serious culture clashes that exist between the two nations. The North Koreans, having spent a long time isolated from the rest of the world, are stunned by some of the things they see and experience when they first reach Japan. The outlandish lifestyles that they witness leave them all reeling.

"Many of the men and women looked vulgar, with hair dyed in the manner of Westerners, absorbing the effluence of decadent Western music, and consuming Western food and drink. There was even a man with an earring, as though he were a woman."

With the authorities at a loss, it’s left up to a local collective of anarchists, led by a poet, to take matters into their own hands. This group is more than keen to take on the Koreans in their own inimitable style; think the Wolverines from Red Dawn with slightly more sociopathic tendencies.

The gang’s leader, Ishihara is a bit of an enigma. Somewhere between an artist and prophet, he offers suggestions, passes comment but never actually does anything himself. He comes across as a bit of a figurehead. He’s a surrogate father and the group all idolize him, hanging on his every word. It’s the gang’s members that really make this story, they’re just so dark. All of them display varying degrees of insanity and personal quirks. My favourite characters were Shinohara who breeds frogs and insects, and takes more than a little delight in experimenting with their poisons. Also, there’s Toyohara, who is rather fanatical about the samurai sword he inherited from his grandfather.

One thing that I did notice was that Murakami does seem a little obsessed with lists. In some scenes he details every single occupant of a room and their job titles. When there are twenty people in the room that can be off-putting. I found it strange, it felt a little jarring and made the narrative a bit disjointed.

Murakami goes into a lot of detail with his characterization, and you quickly realise that there are no topics which are out of bounds. To give an example, at one point an ex-gang member ponders the economic breakdown of Japan while sitting on a portable toilet. Now, I’ll admit that when it comes to fiction that has got to be a first for me, and although it has a slightly surreal air, it actually works surprisingly well. The writing does veer off in some wonderfully bizarre directions, but is so good it always makes weird logical sense.

There are actually many moments when characters take time to ponder the situations that they find themselves in. There is an introspective quality to the writing and this gives the author the opportunity to really explore the human condition. From the Fatherland, With Love is essentially a study in chaos versus order. Both sides of this conflict act as cyphers for each concept, the chaotic Japanese gang members versus the strictly regimented North Koreans. As I said before this is far more than a standard thriller there are many layers and themes at work here.

I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that this novel is ENORMOUS. It’s nearly seven hundred pages long, hell it has a six pages at the beginning just detailing the cast. It’s also physically BIG. If I had the choice I would definitely go for the electronic version over the hardback.

From the Fatherland, With Love is published by Pushkin Press and is available now. I won’t lie to you, this novel is quite an undertaking but I found it largely entertaining. Surprisingly insightful, wonderfully quirky and more than a little bit mad, it’s a modern epic that would be well worth any bibliophile’s time.

[Marie · Rating 5 out of 5]

For a while now my reading time has been largely consumed by this epic tale of alternative dystopian reality and its huge cast of characters, each with their own intricate back story. It's been completely immersive and has left me with little time or inclination to read much else, and now that it's finished I'm left trying to pick apart its many facets to try and explain coherently everything I loved about it. Where to start?

The plot is in equal parts absurd and chillingly plausible; the fallout from the economic crisis has well and truly shaken up the global political landscape, the dollar has completely collapsed, and it's a case of every country for himself. Japan is suffering a steep decline, effectively abandoned by former allies such as the USA. The country finds homelessness and unemployment on the rise, with vast expanses of land turned into shanty towns of citizens with nowhere else to go. Seeing an opportunity to profit from their neighbour's vulnerability, North Korea launches an invasion - initially a small band of highly trained officers take over Fukuoka baseball stadium, but before long troops have arrived in their thousands. There are small undercurrents of resistance among the local residents, but how can they stand a chance against the full weight of the North Korean army?

This is an incredibly complex book. Murakami has thoroughly explored the minutiae of this alarming situation from every aspect. We see the Japanese government as they bumble and panic to try and decide on a response to the situation that is neither too weak nor too offensive. We learn about the effects that the invasion has on small businesses, on healthcare provision, on the local media. I was amazed to realise how easy it might be for a bunch of crooks to take advantage of social security numbers and information held in goverment records to completely take over a community.

Perhaps the most interesting for me was to read about the attitudes and experiences of the North Korean soldiers on arriving in this alien environment. It was fascinating to consider how things we take for granted in a Westernised society might seem totally bizarre to an outsider. For example, a complementary packet of tissues given away to customers of a taxi company is seen as unbelievably decadent to the occupying troops, as are the mass-produced white t-shirts and jeans that line the shelves of the Fukuoka shops. I found myself reading about the harsh upbringings that these soldiers had endured and feeling quite sympathetic towards them despite the brutality they unleash on the defenceless Japanese community. I'm not sure how realistic a picture Murakami has painted of life in North Korea - how much can we truly be sure lies behind the facade that they present to the rest of the world? - but it definitely made me pause for thought.

I really hope this doesn't make it sound like a dry political analysis because it most definitely isn't! One of the things I loved most about it was this feisty, punkish spirit behind the narrative. It's odd to describe it this way, because the premise is so disturbingly convincing and really just plain scary, but it is a fun book and Murakami's attention to quirky details repeatedly put a smile on my face. It is as fast-paced as a bestselling thriller in places, but precise and thoughtful in others. It has been a long time since I've read such an intelligent novel. I feel it's really shaken me out of a bit of a reading slump and put me in the mood to seek out more fresh, innovative stories.

[Aaditya · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was so many things. Politically charged, gruesome, nihilistic with a sense of satire and, at times, basically insane. There are so many characters and so many cogs in this machine that it is extremely difficult to keep up. It almost becomes a chore. I'd be lying if I said I even grasped 70% of what I read. But I guess that is the appeal of this book. The scale of it. It's impressive that Murakami achieves both scale and well defined characters simultaneously.

I wouldn't say I "enjoyed" this book. I'm not even sure if I would reccomend it. My patience was tested and I don't know if I was rewarded per se. With that said, it would be a great disservice to say that this isn't something amazingly commendable. If my only criticism is that this book is too much, I think it says more about me than the book itself. One can't deny what is done here is spectacular. Truly a work to behold.

3.5/5

[Sebastián · Rating 2 out of 5]

One of my favourite writers sets a socio-political thriller in my beloved hometown of six years? Another novel seemingly written for me in particular – what a shame that the promise was miles better than the book this time. The start was exciting because some of the 2005 fiction felt prophetic: the economic crash, the revival of the threat of war with North Korea, it’s all here! Then it went downhill.

At its worst it’s like reading Wikipedia articles thinly wrapped in lifeless characters. Everyone eventually takes on the same dry unnatural tone about whatever their interest happens to be (bomb-making, East Asian economies, guns, wool-spinning, etc), spouting paragraphs of specialist knowledge mid-conversation that Murakami clearly spent a long time researching – three years, he says in the Afterword, and boy, do you feel those three years! It’s these or his political musings that are assigned to seemingly haphazard character names. For a book that starts with a six-page list of “Prominent Characters”, the lack of polyphony is unforgivable.

Since there’s such a focus on dry details, as though one is reading a report, it felt equally satisfying and disappointing when I spotted a mistake (I think three in total) about Fukuoka, though they’re probably intentional things to help the story, like having four main elevators in the Sea Hawk hotel instead of six for the soldiers to come out of. Still, it seemed to me almost hypocritical to employ a relentlessly realist style and then bend the facts to suit a story-line which already requires us to suspend disbelief at key moments (why do we keep hearing how competent the North Korean occupiers are when their actions often scream otherwise?).

This book is like a beached whale: its immense mass may have all functioned swimmingly in the ocean of Murakami’s imagination, but as a text it’s crushed by the weight of its own organs. Its themes collapse on themselves (the realism is unrealistic), and it’s page-count smothers the interesting ideas and sudden bursts of good writing.

It picked up at the halfway point, which is unfortunately about 300 pages in. Or maybe, since I’d left it alone for a while, I just figured out what he was trying to do around then. I had been waiting for the chapter called “In Ohori Park” since that’s more or less where I live; maybe that chapter title alone stopped me from giving up the wordy boring stuff that preceded it, and when I got there strangely it clicked – oh, here is a character who I understand, even though he thinks entirely differently from how I do. Oh, here is some of Murakami’s trademark otherworldly violence that seems to transform a realistic world into something magical. Oh, here are real buildings I know and dislike because they are exclusive to the wealthy being blown up. Suddenly, a change of heart: this book is worth my time.

Then I read this chapter about a doctor called “The Execution”, which was really good: a character study, the intrusion of madness and violence into everyday life, and a big advancement of the main plot happening incidentally in the background. It all came together like a short story with its own themes and ideas, just set in the world of the book. (That said it really bothered me that while the Japanese characters are so disturbed about executions of criminals taking place in Japan, and adamant that they’re horrific remnants of a bygone time, the book seems to go along with these views without mention of the obvious fact that Japan does execute criminals regularly, just in a normalized and discrete way rather than the brash display of the North Koreans. This kind of hypocrisy is jarring and seems a perfect theme for the story, but since it goes unchallenged one can only assume it’s the author’s own hypocrisy making its way into – and marring – the story.)

Unless I’m wrong every chapter is from a different and often new character’s perspective, which means you’re still getting new characters introduced at the very end of the novel. Once I got into the hang of this (again, really late in the day) it was actually pretty interesting. Maybe if he’d gone more in this direction it would have worked: short stories set in a world where Fukuoka is occupied by North Korea and Kyushu blockaded by Japan. Yes, not a novel. It could’ve been great.

The last few chapters were breathlessly thrilling or kind of stressful. I realised that I still don’t like that thing where one chapter builds up to a cliff-hanger and then the next one throws you into a totally different slow-paced situation, tricking you into reading through the slow bits with the pace of the fast ones, desperate to get to a promised story pay-off. I don’t like being rushed! Let me read the slow bits slowly. If you want it all to be fast, then write fast. I’m glad at least that I learned this about myself. I didn’t like it when I was a kid and found myself wrenched from imperilled Sam and Frodo to unrelated places like Rohan or Gondor, and apparently I never grew out of that dislike.

…Do I need to care about characters to enjoy a book? I’m not sure. No, that can’t be right, because I don’t care particularly for any of the characters in some of my all-time favourite books – but in those it’s ok because the prose is intoxicatingly magnificent, or because the ideas are clever and strange. I’m glad I read this if only for the fact that it was nice to snoop around pretending to be a rich guest at the opulent Sea Hawk hotel while still inhabiting the dangerous fictional version of the novel. Did you know a couple of years ago they turned away a Cuban diplomat because they thought hosting him might anger the USA? Seriously, fuck that hotel.

[Ben · Rating 3 out of 5]

Extremely unique book.

Honestly, not my favorite Murakami book, but it was very interesting.

You don't encounter this type of storytelling very often.

Would recommend for an intriguing epic genre-bending read!

3.1/5

[Tenma · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a very unusual book when compared to Murakami’s body of work. Although fiction, I would not be surprised if others consider this a critique of the Japanese political system. It is a very well researched work, which is evident by Murakami’s deep understanding of the Japanese geopolitical and societal systems, and his excellent grasp of the living norms in North Korea. In this novel, Murakami is simply positing how Japan and the world would react to an invasion by North Korea. A great novel, albeit extremely slow.

[AC · Rating 3 out of 5]

A fun read, I guess, but seems rather pointless. A political thriller with no *real* suspense and, of course, an utterly fictional scenario. Almost entirely plot driven, and so seems rather flat. I can't quite see the purpose in continuing on with this. Good beach reading. More or less.

Read a third of it, and that was sufficient.

[Cherry · Rating 3 out of 5]

A good time!

[Heather · Rating 4 out of 5]

“War is just another aspect of diplomacy and politics; it is a great mistake to think that peace and war are polar opposites. We are not asking you, Your Honor, your Excellency, to agree with the Master Plan for Harmonious Government. We are merely giving you notice of it.” p. 210.

Originally coming out in Japan in 2005, Ryu Murakami wrote of a near future 2011 Japan where North Korea invades Fukuoka in Japan. This alternate history has uncanny connections to the present that I’m reading this book in, May 2024. The premise and Murakami's speculative prowess left a deep impression on me.

The yen is critically weak compared to the dollar. The Bank of Japan is buying up the yen (happening) and upsets America, which retaliates by raising the prices on food and grain imports (luckily hasn’t happened, yet). American tourists flood Tokyo since it's such a bargain to come to Japan (also kind of happening now). The unemployment rate skyrockets to 10 percent, with a large population of unhoused people living in public parks. While Russia does not invade Ukraine in this world, there is mention of Hamas and the ongoing Israeli occupation of Palestine. The latter was one of the examples for how the DPRK invading Japan wasn’t so inconceivable. Humans have been doing this for a long time.

“You will be liberating the entire region from the oppression of Japanese imperialism, bringing it freedom and justice. It is the same claim made by Muhammad when conquering Mecca, the Crusaders marching on Jerusalem, Imperial Japan invading mainland Asia, Adolf Hitler launching his blitzkrieg, the Allies defeating the Nazis, the United States invading Afghanistan and Iraq.” p. 106

How do humans justify invasions? And why are we all so complacent about it? Those two questions were the heartbeat of this book for me.

Murakami gives North Korea's generic statement for invading Fukuoka to try and capture the territory: “It was to coexist with the citizens of Fukuoka, and to bring true peace and prosperity to the city, that they had come from North Korea…" p. 250. And he follows up with examples from ancient and modern history where this same line of reasoning was used as justification.

In this novel, Japan has a Self-Defense Force that is so weak due to the failing economy and budget cuts that it can’t repel the invasion. The US and China refuse to intervene due to worsened relations with Japan saying that the Koryo Expedition is just a breakaway group from North Korea rather than the country itself carrying out the invasion. The SDF especially can’t make any moves because the invading DPRK forces secure civilian and political hostages. Hostages don’t try to resist and pale at the commandos who point weapons their way. 9 people take 30,000 people hostage in the Fukuoka dome. Security lays their weapons down without even needing to be told to. Around 500 other DPRK forces arrive and set up camp with no casualties on either side. Katniss would be very disappointed at the lack of rebellious spirit.

To make matters worse, the government is completely tied up in so much bureaucracy that no decisions can be made. There’s no we-don’t-give-in-to-terrorists ideology in this 2011 alternative Japan. There IS a lot of indecision by a completely ineffective government. I was reminded of the Shin-Godzilla movie and found some Japanese readers’ comments online that discuss how similar in theme they are.

And when the government of Japan refuses to repel the invading threat through inaction, it is up to a group of people separated from the masses to make a decision that will result in real change. Murakami believes in the subversive, the power of the minority. Anarchy. The outcasts of society. Through the myriad of characters, the Ishihara group boys were by far the standouts of this epic. It took awhile for all the pieces to come together for the grand finale, but for the most part it felt worth it to me as a reader.

[Auggy]

This book is so hard to rate. Is it a character study? A political thriller? A satirical indictment of the Japanese government? Sure! Why not! One thing it definitely is though is BORING - or at least the first half is. It took forever to read because of this. In a way, all the boring bits made me think of American Psycho. Yes, they are boring, however they arguably serve a satirical purpose. Sadly, however, that doesn't make those parts any more engaging. And the other bits that don't seem as pointed are harder to justify. Instead, they just feel like the author worked out a TON of backstory and was just incapable of not including it.

Yet in between the pages (and pages) of (way too much) detail and backstory, there were bits that were engaging, exciting, funny, and occasionally shocking and it was those bits that kept me reading. And after the half way point, things picked up and I finished the last half much quicker. Sure, there were still boring bits but nothing compared to the first half and the chapters felt more balanced - perhaps because the backstory and detail was balanced by things actually happening.

Still, a hard book to rate. The first half I'd give a 2. The second half would get a 4. So you'd think an average rating of 3 would do it. But this is not a 3-star book. A 3-star book for me is "it's okay" and this is not an "okay" book. I did like it (which would be a 4) but I also kinda hated it (which would be a 1). So yeah, I'm stuck. I think that I'll likely end up leaning more towards a 4-star rating just because I can already notice the boring bits fading away in my mind, leaving me with the memory of the engaging, interesting parts of the story. I can't say, however, that I can really recommend this to anyone.

[Rhoddi · Rating 3 out of 5]

While the writing is well done and idea of North Korea invading Japan's southern coast truly intriguing, somehow everything gets lost in the grandness of it all. Character's are fleshed out then tossed aside, info dumps drain the reader of the will to read, and a true lack of anything really happening for long stretches hamper a book that one thinks will be full of anarchy and suspense. To be honest, I skimmed the last 15o pages as I just wanted to move onto something else.

In the end, the writing flows and keeps one reading, it's just too bad the story doesn't really want to go anywhere.

[Ernst · Rating 1 out of 5]

Die bessere Idee war: die Story klingt interessant (will sie lesen). Die etwas dümmere Idee (oder leise) Hoffnung): vielleicht hat ja Ryu nicht nur den Nachnamen gemeinsam.
Aber leider bloß grobschlächtige, ausschweifende Prosa, ein chaotischer Plot, den der Autor nicht wirklich im Griff zu haben scheint, der Spannungsaufbau funktioniert nicht, die Figuren lassen kalt oder sind schmerzhaft unsympathisch.

[Binati Sheth · Rating 4 out of 5]

The use of Japan's pacifist ideology contrasted against the survivalist ideology of North Korea - chef's kiss perfection.

The premise of this book - 10/10.
The pacing of this book - 10/10.
The plot - 10/10.
The characters - 7/10.

I definitely recommend reading this book if you enjoy contemplating geopolitics and cultural behaviours.

[J.C.]

I hate quitting a book by an author I love but after page 200 I was sighing every time I picked it up. Apparently 650 page Japanese political satires aren't my thing.

[Sunni | vanreads]

DNF’ed this one unfortunately. Just couldn’t get into it.

[Amanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really good! I haven't read anything like it before. It takes place a little bit in the future and I could totally see something like this happening, but hopefully not....😬

[Brett Ortiz · Rating 4 out of 5]

From the Fatherland, with Love reminds me of a Godzilla movie, particularly Shin Godzilla (but that's the most recent one I've seen and I'm sure it goes with most of the movies). A lot of the intense action is interspersed by politicians talking about the issue and not getting much done, but even the "off" chapters are gripping enough to keep you engaged.

[Mat Davies · Rating 2 out of 5]

1.5 - Biggest disappointment this year.

So - what did I like? I liked the concept of the story. There was also an interesting opening section which explains how the North Koreans came up with the idea to invade Japan. It is also clear, and illustrated at the end that Ryu Murakami did quite a lot of primary research before writing this novel. I also think that the title and cover is awesome. That is about as far as it goes!

This book was almost unreadable for me. I felt a little put off when I saw a description of all the characters at the start of the book. You know, just in case we forget who they are. There is far too much information there for it to be an introduction to characters. It is a reference section in case we can't keep up with who is being focused on in the book. In fact, the lack of focus is my problem.

Yes, the takeover of a baseball pitch is cool. Yes, something involving a building being blown up helped the Japanese gain the upper hand. But man - there was a lot of description and my biggest problem, characters were being introduced throughout the book. It was like Groundhog Day with different characters and never really getting to know them.

There was not one memorable character in this book. It is in no way character driven. Quite the opposite. The characters don't seem individually important and are not given enough attention even if they were. The characters are what make a story for me. And there weren't any here. That is why it was a slog even though I enjoy the references to Japanese things like food and drinks.

One final irk was the translation. It became obvious that the translation is not smart at all. Classic Japanese mistakes such as saying ''the TV news'' instead of ''news'' were included in the book. Why? nobody says that. It just sounds stupid. It is there because the translation is trying to be as accurate as possible and in doing so, failing to think outside the box.

[Andy Raptis · Rating 5 out of 5]

As in most Ryu Murakami novels, you have two opposite groups involved in a lethal conflict, only this time the scale is much bigger. In terms of structure it's quite similar to Popular Hits of Showa Era and In the Miso Soup; there is a slow build up to a grand scene of unbelievably intense violence.
In this case, you got the Koryos VS The Terror Babies, a very sympathetic bunch of social misfits, of whom the best one is serial killer. The absurd plot serves as an excuse for Murakami to comment on the attitudes of his fellow Japanese. There are also very caustic remarks on the USA, China, and the United Nations. Nothing is depicted in a patriotic light and there is no hint of political correctness.
All he does is shove the ugly truth in the faces of the Japanese people. If you take in account the relationship between China and Taiwan and the "sitkrieg" phase of World War 2, what Murakami talks about in this book is more of an unspoken reality than political fantasy. I can easily see this kind of scenario playing out for real in a possible future occupation of Aegean islands by Turkic forces; with the only difference there won't be any Terror Babies around to save the day.
However, the most interesting aspect of the book is the promotion of the psychopathic personality as a healthy reaction to all the shit that is going on in the world. This sort of thing springs from seventies punk and novels of J.G Ballard such as Crash and Atrocity Exhibition. It's a pity that this sort of misanthropy has largely eclipsed nowadays only to be replaced by passive indifference and a media-promoted definition of right and wrong.

[Keen Reader · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 Stars!

Look at that cover. Love it! I’ll be honest at an eye watering 668 pages this book loomed in the shelf, and made a bit of a scaredy cat of me as I kept putting off reading it, but I took the plunge and did not regret it.

It’s funny how someone calls Murakami “the Rolling Stones of Japanese literature” What?! does this mean he peaked in the 60s and since then, aside from a few false dawns, has been largely mediocre at best and has cynically exploited his early output for more than half a century, charging exorbitant fees to see a hugely sanitised and commercialised version of what he once was?...and then insults his fans by saying that he has no control over ticket prices?...

This is a mighty, dark, violent sprawling epic, with shades of some of his other work in particular the excellent “Coin Locker Babies”. As ever Murakami seems to take relish and delight in some vivid description of the many, many gruesome acts carried out between these pages. He is clearly having a dig at Japanese bureaucracy and government, questioning their ability to respond effectively to national disasters.

Its very clever and inventive in many places, and there must have been so much research involved in this and as for the time, skill and effort that must have gone into translating it into English, no less than three are credited, so kudos to Ralph McCarthy, Charles De Wolf and Ginny Tapley Takemori. This is easily the most ambitious thing Murakami has ever attempted and he mostly pulls it off, though the closing twenty pages seemed a bit flat, which was a shame, but overall I really enjoyed this.

[BryonyBee · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved the premise of this book and the writing, for the most part, was really engaging (minus the couple of chapters set in the Diet which were dry with seemingly pointless lists of names and professions). A lot of passages contained gore described in such detail I felt nauseous but this is again a testament to the richness of the writing.
This book makes you empathise with characters on both sides and question who you are actually rooting for. I thought the ending was bittersweet but overall satisfying!

[flum · Rating 2 out of 5]

while displaying some exciting story elements and stellar research, it struggles to bind all the action and speculation into a tight package. marred by long stretches of unrewarding digressions and repetitive character introductions.