Earthlings: A Novel

Earthlings by Sayaka Murata might be my favorite of all the books I’ve read this year. It’s dark literary fiction with a weird, speculative edge. I went in blind, and I’m happy I did, so if you haven’t read it and want that experience, by all means, stop reading now! But if you want my thoughts, by all means continue. Trigger warning for child sexual abuse. The story follows Natsuki, a young girl who feels she doesn’t quite fit in. On an annual family visit, her cousin Yuu confides that he feels the same way, and he believes himself to be an alien. Natsuki agrees with this sentiment, deciding that she too must be from another planet. A planet called Popinbopopia. The two agree to become a couple, eventually deciding to look for the spaceship that brought them to earth when they next meetup. This eventually leads to an incident which causes the family to keep them from one another, leading to a long period of separation. During this separation, Natsuki feels increasingly out of place in her society, which she equated to a factory. The factory has its parts, people, and they are meant to grow up, pair up and create babies to perpetuate the factory. Natsuki feels no desire to do this, and her sentiments are aided by manipulative, abusive incidents with a teacher. She’s more or less totally put off the whole sex thing. The second half of the book follows Natsuki as an adult, navigating the factory and trying her best to appear as though she fits in. Eventually her husband, who is more like a roommate, and feels the same about love and sex as she does, also decides he must be an alien, and they meet up with Cousin Yuu at the old family house. Without getting too in depth or spoiling anything, the plot and execution both get pretty out there, in the best possible ways. Reality starts getting fuzzy as the trio decide to start living as aliens rather than humans. The narration here becomes less and less reliable, leading to a dreamlike feel with its own internal logic. Though written from the point of view of a Japanese citizen, and set in Japan, the themes of being a cog in a machine can still relate to a western reader, though it’s clear that these societal norms are far more strict in the far east. I enjoyed the swathes of gray, the way the story toys with morality and gives very few clear stances on anything. Total freedom is both lovely and dangerous. What I love most about this story is the way Natsuki desperately wants to be normal, to conform to what she thinks she’s supposed to be, but can’t. She tries her best, but still can’t quite make it work. She’s an outsider yearning to be brainwashed. I feel like that isn't addressed enough in media. There's plenty of "I pretended to fit in until I came to terms with myself," But there's not always a legitimate, non-judgmental presentation of desperately wanting normalcy despite oneself. To willingly stand in line for the lobotomy. There are no concrete answers given in this one, and I love that. No one is presented as either 100% right or wrong, which puts the onus on the reader to decide or leave it be. I’d definitely recommend this book to fans of literary fiction, but really, I’d recommend it to anyone who thinks they can handle a story with a relatively graphic, though not-gratuitous, depiction of child sexual abuse. There is so much to love about this story.

WARNING! I ENJOYED THIS BOOK, BUT IT IS NOT FOR EVERYONE! My enjoyment is in the review, but it is NOT an easy read, and it has many trauma triggers. I told my partner a little bit of what was happening in the book, and she politely tapped out about 5 minutes into my description. Pacing - 5 out of 5 stars Two days. Done! It was my fastest, and also shortest read of 2025. I can’t criticize the pacing at all, whatsoever. Horror factor - 4 out of 5 stars I just finished the last page, and I’m sitting with the last 12 pages still rolling around in my mind. I’m having trouble even putting into words how I feel. I think the best way to put it, is the author gave me a true body horror, and something unexpected. I didn’t expect any of where it went, and it also didn’t let you sit with it for too long. There was maybe 12-20 pages of true horror in the entire book, but DAMN. I really can’t begin to say enough how much I enjoyed it. I was hoping for more of the alien angle to be played out. That really is my only critique, and I think it’s fair to say that isn’t spoilerish. It’s there, its just, muted and somewhat unresolved. Another 30 pages would have been perfect. Characters - 5 out of 5 stars Loved Natsuki. I felt everything she was going through….the trauma and her responses to the trauma felt so real. I loved her struggles, and also her relationships with Yuu, and her husband. It is a short book, but the author does what others can’t do in a short read. I loved the characters. The ending - 4.5 out of 5 stars The ending is why you read this book. That last chapter will sit with you in a really really unsettling way. I loved it, I loved it, I loved it. WARNING….it’s graphic, its stomach churning, and it’s a LOT. I just can’t really criticize the ending much EXCEPT wanting the alien story line to flush out a little more. That’s my only gripe. If you pick this book up and hope for an alien book, you will be left with a meh feeling at the end. Who should buy the book? YOU MUST BE READY FOR POTENTIAL TRAUMA TRIGGERS. I won’t say it loud enough, BUT if you are ok with that, this was quick and so worth it. Did I like it? Yes. Will I keep it in my library to read again? YESSSSS!!!

I read this author’s Convenience Store Girl so I know his characters are off the beaten path. But this tale went super dark. Story of a young girl in Japan and she has some mental illness or she is different in some way. As she experiences some terrible things, she changes along with it. All along she thinks the reason she isn’t the same is bc she’s an alien here on earth. Not sure I would actually recommend unless you like dark really really weird and somewhat gross (at the end).

This was a wonderful read about how the shattering of childhood innocence shapes who we are for the rest of our lives. It was shocking, devastating, grotesque at some parts and one of the best novels I have read so far.

I was both disturbed and intrigued by Sayaka Murata’s Earthlings: A Novel. The story is well-written and initially presents themes that, while unsettling, felt grounded in recognizable social critique. However, as the narrative progressed, it veered into territory so extreme and morally jarring that I found myself questioning why I continued reading. Some of the themes felt like grim reflections of reality, while others crossed a line that made me deeply uncomfortable. This is a book I’ll never revisit, but one I won’t easily forget.

Is Earthlings a critique of modern corporate culture, wherein peoples’ status, importance and happiness are entirely based on individuals’ ability to produce labor and offspring for the machine? Or is it a critique on “outcasts” of society who wish to have no responsibilities at all? Is it a condemnation of strict gender roles, victim blaming and acceptability of sexual violence towards women? Or is it a confirmation of the status quo and traditional structures? Are you confused? It seems the author might have been, too. Earthlings follows Natsuki. A girl who, for as long as she remembers, has never quite in. Amongst her family, she is the outcast; and they never miss a moment to remind her of that fact. The book opens with the young 11 year old Natsuki arriving with her family at an annual Summer gathering at her grandparent’s home in the rural mountainsides of Japan. The annual trip and tradition sees entire swathes of Natsuki’s extended family and relatives all gathering to celebrate the passing of the spirits or something. It’s very Japanese. In just a few pages in, we immediately become familiar with Natsuki’s strong, romantic feelings towards her Boyfriend, Yuu. Yuu is Natsuki’s cousin. Yuu is also the same age as Natsuki. This incest stuff has been critiqued by many who likely stopped reading after a few pages, but it becomes clear a few chapters in, why the incest stuff is pertinent to Natsuki’s story; Natsuki is a victim of abuse. Severe emotional and neglectful abuse at the hands of her own family, mainly her mother—who wastes no time constantly castigating and branding her as useless, even in front of neighbors. Making matters worse, Natsuki is also a victim of repeated sexual abuse and impropriety by her Summer school teacher, Mr. Igasaki. As it so happens, Yuu is also a victim of abuse. He suffers from similar emotional abuse and neglect. His father is not in his life, and his single mother treats him with disdain, while uncomfortably also treating him like a second husband. It isn’t -not- implied that Yuu may be a victim of sexual abuse as well, but it isn’t really spelled out outright. Perhaps he is, perhaps isn’t. Either way, Natsuki and Yuu immediately form a bond over their shared trauma and experiences, sharing in their feelings that they may actually just be aliens from a distant planet called Popinpobobia, which, they feel, would explain their abuse and treatment by others. The first half of the story is certainly the most challenging and heart wrenching. It comes to a close after a life-changing event between Natsuki and Yuu, wherein Natsuki, now 12, tries to commit suicide. Shortly after, their entire family discovers them and the nature of their relationship, which results in them being immediately separated, with Yuu being severely beaten by the adults as he’s dragged away, and Natsuki being thrown into a ramshackle building in pitch black darkness until the morning. The second half of the story begins 2 decades later. Natsuki, now 34 years old, is married to a man named Tomoya, and has been living in an apartment by her family home in Chiba, Japan. The story catches the reader up on what has happened since her life-changing moment in childhood: We learned that her family had become even more abusive by instilling extreme surveillance over her life and all of her activities; not being let out of the house or even out of her room if nobody was present to watch her. We learned in the first half of the story that Natsuki had tried to tell her mother about the sexual abuse she had been undergoing by her teacher, only for her mother to not only not believe her, but beat her senseless over it, believing that it had been all a perverted lie by Natsuki. In the second half, soon after the events with Yuu, her mother tells Natsuki that she has enrolled her in the same Summer school course with her abusive teacher. Sometime after, Natsuki murders him in a hallucinogenic episode by beating his face into a bloody pulp with a garden scythe. Yes, this story is not pulling its punches. Through her teenage years and young adulthood, it becomes apparent that Natsuki suffers from severe trauma related to her abuse and experiences. A trauma that, now as an adult, has fully consumed her—becoming wholly misanthropic and jaded towards people and society. Her incredibly unorthodox relationship with her husband, who is deranged and equally jaded by his own experiences, is the physical personification of Natsuki’s extreme arrested development. Likewise, Natsuki likely serves as the same for her husband. The story’s conclusion it set in motion after Natsuki comes into contact with Yuu once again after decades of not seeing him, and after some hijinks, her and her husband convince Yuu to leave the “Earthling” life behind and start anew in the mountainside as primitive alien beings. After some nakedness and cannibalism, the trio is discovered by Natsuki’s family, living in squalor in Natsuki’s grandparent’s home, which has long been abandoned. The trio then walk outside, affirming their transition into Popinpobobians compete, pregnant and all, ready to multiply never-ending into the future. Okay, so there’s -a lot- to dissect here. However, despite its wild depictions and otherworldly musings, it’s not a never hard story to follow. One theme that is immediately apparent is that of abuse. But not just abuse on individual level, but on a societal level. The story has a lot to say about victim blaming, and how the abuse that it is permissive to, ultimately destroys people. Through its heightened reality, which may or may not be your flavor, the author seeks to relay the lived pain and experiences of women that have had their stories of abuse casually thrown aside. So, what’s the problem? Well, one big problem is that the story doesn’t treat individual abuse and trauma with equal weight. Natsuki’s husband, Tomoya, and her sister, Kise, both have experienced their share of severe abuse. But they are emphatically not treated with the same level of understanding and sympathy as Natsuki. Tomoya had undergone a severe case of helicopter parenting, having to shower with his mother until he was 15. Kiss was a victim to severe bullying, in which she would miss entire days of school. You would think that a story about that focuses on transformative effects of abuse for its main character, would treat these acts of abuse of other characters in a similar way, but it doesn’t. Instead, Tomoya serves largely as comedic relief; depicted as being a degenerate weirdo, unrestrained in his bizarre beliefs, and hellbent on not having -any- responsibilities. Kise is reduced to a sarcastic. prying villain, who is ultimately a traitor to Natsuki as she is a hypocrite to her own values. These characters are transparently not written for the audience to sympathy with. The book is also very critical of gender norms and modern work culture. If you’ve read the book, you likely understand that it’s theming isn’t very subtle; with society constantly being referred to as the “Factory”, and the men and women who abide by its rigid rules as “Components”. Sometimes the Factory is also referred to as the Baby Factory, which no guesses as to what that’s referring to. Adherents to the Factory are depicted as living largely traditional and conservative lives. That is, people who are already invested in the status quo—it’s traditional power structures and gender roles, have no problem with the Factory. This theming is one that gets most sloppy. And, perhaps unintentionally (who really knows), becomes entirely undone by the story’s own characters and conclusion. Here’s the thing: through the entire story, the Factory, and all its aspects, is depicted as something to be either feared or derided. Natsuki, Tomoya, and Yuu, share in the belief that the Factory only serves to rob people of their freedom, personal autonomy and individual spirit. And while there are a lot of salient points to this, here is the problem: Every single person in the story who hates the Factory is miserable. Literally everyone but our main characters are having a good time. While Natsuki waxes philosophic about the nature of power and control, entirely arrested by her own trauma and loathing of what’s expected of her as a woman in society, her mother and sister are off generally living okay lives. Her father, as flawed as he is, seems entirely content with whatever prospects lay in front of him. Shizuka, Natsuki’s only other friend, while prying and perhaps too much of a conformist, is living a totally fine life. Yuu, before being convinced by our 2 main bozos to live life a primitive alien, is largely well adjusted, all things considered. Conflicted? Yes. Flawed? Yes. But his was life was objectively better before reuniting with Natsuki. And everyone in the story has their problems. The problem is that the characters in the story that are entirely against the Factory, only seem to offer bizarre, austere measures in a solution to society’s problems. The ending of the story is by far the most bizarre thing in the entire book, and it unintentionally (maybe? I don’t know the author’s intentions) argues that: you know, perhaps the Factory ain’t that bad. And that our characters that we’ve been following all along are actually just loony weirdos who end up replicating society with just a different coat of paint. That’s not even to speak of the illogical thought processes and out-of-the-blue dumbing-down of characters in the final chapter. Our complicated characters suddenly become caveman and women. I mean that in the literal sense as much as I could, but also in the intellectual sense. It’s never even explained why, Yuu, who had been the mostly the voice of reason through out the novel, just decides to abandon his life wholesale to live off the wilderness where he ultimately helps butcher and skin another human for its meat. The ending just gives you whiplash. Worse, it makes you feel like its complicated yet serious messaging in the pages before were all for a waste. One thing that I found incredibly amusing is that this story is essentially just Fight Club. Yes, the symptoms of that movies characters are different (not THAT different, if you think about it), but their prescription is exactly the same: abandon conventional life in favor of a primitive one, and watch the revolution happen. But that’s just stupid.

This book is… weird. There’s really no other way for me to describe it. You have an FMC who has grown up thinking she’s an alien from another planet who’s stuck on earth with no way back home. Her cousin and later her husband start to believe the same thing which in turn leads to a lot of weird and sometimes disturbing events. And that ending? Did they… eat each other?!? **Boombastic side eye** I know the author is using this book as a way to show how societal demands affect us and how in some ways it can take away from our individuality, but she went about it in a way that was so over the top and outrageous that I felt that this message was pushed back and instead highlighted severe mental illness. In any case this book is strange and I’m glad I got it on sale. I did find it interesting and read it from beginning to end but IT’S STILL WEIRD. LOL. 𝗠𝗬 𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚: ⭐⭐⭐

The best word I can use to describe this novel is "demented". This book absolutely pulls zero punches in its critique against societal norms and pressure to conform: if you reach page 85 and you want to go home, I don't blame you and even encourage you, because it's all downhill from there. The tagline on the hardcover has a quote from a reviewer who used the word "hilarious" to describe this novel, and I don't really see it. Maybe from the fantastical way the characters sometimes act (to such the extreme that it sounds satirical), but in my opinion, this book is profoundly dark, uncomfortable, disturbing, and tragic. Even when nothing comparatively "extreme" is happening, the tragedies of Natsuki's life are a constant, and it questions the sanity of every character in the novel. Don't believe what Piyyut, the sweet plush hedgehog on the cover, is telling you. I think my only criticism is, in agreement with another reviewer, that it does feel like Murata-san didn't quite know how to end her novel, and that is when (in my opinion) the novel reaches its most gratuitous and extreme. Apart from that, though, this book chained me down and forced me to see through the alien eye, and it was a hypnotic experience to be sure; I loved it, and I'm glad it got to be published in English. I hope more of Murata-san's works will be published as well.

something I would recommend and not recommend at the same time. the back cover does little to give away what the book is really about. the lingering feeling that you are left with after putting the book down is hard to describe. the book has a lots of trigger warnings going off so before you get into it try to research a bit.

Krasses Buch!

Llegó en buen estado; aún no lo leo, pero las reseñas y sinopsis dicen que es bueno.

weird and dark and funny not for children。。No!

Le livre est indéniablement l'un des meilleur que j'ai pu lire, cependant l'état dans lequel je l'ai reçuest est très décevant. Les contours s'effritent, la couche supérieure de la couverture se détache et ne parlons pas de la "reliure" qui est catastrophique. Vraiment dommage pour un aussi bon livre.