Murakami is a very, very good writer. There’s no two ways about it. And while I enjoyed this book a great deal, I think I would have enjoyed it a bit more if I hadn’t had a basic understanding of cryptography (the science of making and breaking codes).
With most reasonably good science fiction you get good science and decent fiction. In this book, you get some really, really good fiction and some really, really silly science. Even with what little I know, the passages on cryptography on display here just don’t make a lick of sense. And, it doesn’t help that most of them are delivered via the dialogue of what has to be one of literature’s most annoying scientists.
Still, great book.
An aspiring demonologist rescues Rincewind from the dungeon dimensions, eventually.
Roy, the author, writes Rosie, the hussy, out of Driffield, the author’s, biography.
The wretched life of the Night Watch in Ankh-Morpork gets a little more wretched, and then a little less.
More John Hurt goodness, only I’m having trouble with this one, not so easy.
In the dystopian future of 1988, a popular singer with his own television show finds himself down the rabbit hole. Interesting tidbit: in 1988, quadraphonic stereos and flying cars will be commonplace. I can’t wait!
A beautiful novel set in the mouldering remains of the Sicilian aristocracy in the 19th and early 20th centuries.