1Q84

“By the way that we think and by the way that we believe in things, in that way is our world created.”—Pema Chödrön (from The Wisdom of No Escape)

 Have you ever woken up from a deep sleep in a state of confusion?  With the lingering fog of incomprehensible dreams hanging over you, the gradual process of remembering must begin. And yet, piecing reality together isn’t always so simple…

What if it became difficult to distinguish the world of dreams from waking life?

Exploring the bounds of consciousness is certainly not a new concept in Haruki Murakami’s fiction—in fact, it seems to be one of the common threads running through his works; his most recent book, 1Q84, is certainly no exception.  Though it may be considered a dystopian saga of sorts, Murakami has imagined an alternate take on “dystopia”—rather than existing in some post-apocalyptic future (with metaphorical parallels to modern society, of course), the world of 1Q84 exists in an alternate dimension of a pre-existing society. Boundaries tend to be blurred, and it’s often hard to know where one person ends and the other begins. What’s real, what’s imagined, what’s a dream?—and do these questions emerge in the face of realistic dreams, or perhaps, is “reality” just that surreal? 

It would seem that the boundaries between one realm and another can blur only at the point when the question emerges: what defines “reality,” anyway?

As a reader, prepare to embark upon a journey of parallel processes within the intricately- imagined universe of 1Q84—accompanying the two main characters, Aomame and Tengo as they explore that very question. In spite of the air of mystery coloring everyday life in a world they didn’t know existed until they found themselves living in it, there is one thing that remains clear: compelled by some force unknown to them, their destinies are intertwined in a way that unfolds throughout the book’s progression. Whatever this inexplicable “something” is, it’s at once what bonds them together and propels them forward along time’s trajectory.

            And yes, it is a love story.  Though, interestingly enough, it’s a love story sustained despite the hero and heroine having been separated by time and continuing to be separated by physical distance. In switching between the narratives of Aomame and Tengo, Murakami gives the reader a window into their individual psyches in order to progressively expound upon how inter-connected the two actually are.

It’s also so much more than a love story—in the process of accompanying the characters through their existential dilemmas, it becomes a contemplation of the very human quest of finding meaning in life, including striking a balance between personal power and the overarching systems that govern society.  One can’t help but find a message in the midst of Murakami’s presentation of different points along a spectrum of the forms devotion can take—from group membership to religious fundamentalism, even cults: there’s a slippery slope when decisions affecting one’s life are relegated to an external force—or is there even free choice in the matter? Is the feeling of being impelled by a mysterious force toward what one might believe to be destiny any different from fatalism? And where does love fit into all of this? 

If the constant for Tengo and Aomame is their connection to each other, it may just be that the certainty in entering the world of 1Q84 is that only more questions will accompany a questionably-elusive search for that feeling of coming home.