Everyone is this slim novel is fucking everyone else. Everyone is being fucked by everyone else, in any available orifice. They are blissed-out, shot-up, strung-out and fucked-up. This novel is the offspring of some unholy liaison between William Burroughs, Hubert Selby Jr and Anais Nin, in a shit-hole love hotel run by a cockroach in downtown Osaka.
The Washington Post review on the reverse says, “A combination of exotica, erotica…Bugs and mucus, cheesecake and semen, rain and runways – all lovingly described.” While Bestsellers says, “A violent book – sharply begun and slammed quickly to a finish.” All of which sums it up.
It is 127 blistering pages long and finishes with a short letter “from Ryu” to another character in the book, which makes you wonder if the whole thing was real.
It does have one of my favourite covers, ever.
Not to be confused with Haruki.