In the Miso Soup
The last time I remember reading a book that really made my heart stop, it was Red Dragon. Remember the scene where he bit the reporter's lip off? I do. I have nightmares of it occasionally.
I was reading In the Miso Soup on the train tonight, and it was going pretty swimmingly. You have a nice, evenly-paced “is he or isn't he” situation, then suddenly ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE.
If there's a fan then shit just hit it.
I remember my heart distinctly lurching. I'm not sure if the other commuters noticed, because I'm pretty sure I actually blanched.
You have no idea how fucked up it is.
I can't say it's out of the blue, because Murakami was building up to it, but when it actually happens I feel just like Kenji – when the doubts are finally put to rest it's done in a very graphic and horrifying way.
Maybe it's the nonchalance.
I'm not sure.
What I do know is that this has to be one of the most gut-twisting things I've read in a long time, and my heart still stops every time I think about it.