A man wakes up one morning from a dream convinced his wife is cheating on him. On a whim, he flees to Tokyo.
I loved the imagery — there are some quite beautiful descriptions: “shadows poured from the receptionist’s sleeves, spilled out from under the bed and desk and submerged the lower half of the room in a sombre vagueness”.
But mainly I couldn’t get over how much of a paranoid control freak the main character is. He behaves so childishly, in laughable — almost painful — contrast with his serious academic pretensions. Mathilda has a lucky escape.
Recommend for fans of Japan, haiku and/or trees.