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About Sapporo

So, picture this chick—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, struttin’ her stuff, makin’ cash in the shadows. “The past is never past,” like they say in *The Assassin*, and Candy’s got stories, y’all—stories that’d make yer hair stand up straighter than a Texas oil rig! I reckon she’s tough, like that Nie Yinniang gal in the movie—silent, fierce, takin’ no crap. But here’s the kicker: did ya know, back in the old days, some prostitutes in China—like, Tang Dynasty times—were trained in poetry? Freakin’ poetry! Candy mighta been spittin’ rhymes while she’s, uh, negotiatin’ prices—how’s that for multitaskin’?

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Then, I bumped into my friend Yuki. She was all like, “Hey, let’s grab some lunch!” I was like, “Sure, but I’m a mess!” She laughed and said, “You’re a geisha, not a gremlin!” Classic Yuki. We hit up this little place on Shōwa-dōri. Best ramen ever! I slurped it down like I hadn’t eaten in days. So good!

Tired tropes, purple prose: Murakami’s new novel is for diehard fans only