This is my third David Mitchell novel, and unfortunately it's my least favorite so far. Unlike his other works I've read, this is more conventional in that it's only really told from one point of view (aside from a few letters woven into the text here and there) and has a fairly linear narrative. What makes it a David Mitchell novel is the unique perspective that the protagonist, Eiji Miyake, tells the story from.
Eiji is a naive twenty year old from rural Japan, looking for the father he never knew in big city Tokyo. Eiji's overactive imagination and lack of regular sleeping habits make it difficult for him--and us, the readers--to tell what are dreams and what is reality, as he finds love, works in a deathly hot chain pizza joint, gets mixed up with the Yakuza, and attempts to reconcile with his estranged mother, all while stumbling around Tokyo without a yen in his wallet.
It's obvious that David Mitchell is an extremely gifted writer, but this fell short for me. It just felt really long and tedious at times (and it's less than 500 pages). Without Mitchell's beautiful prose, this would have been a two-star read for me.