I picked this up because I enjoyed David Mitchell's Ghostwritten so much.

I'm sure I've thought to myself before, "What if David Mitchell wrote a Haruki Murakami novel?" Well, it turns out he did, and it is fantastic. Unlike any of his other novels, this one did contain stretches where my attention waned a bit, particularly in the last third, but Mitchell writes such beautifully bizarre, poetic sentences that it seems petty to quibble over narrative drive. My only regret is that I've now read every novel by him in existence, and I have to wait for the next one.