Some stories captivate us because they spirit us away to breathtaking fantasies. Others haunt us because they could have unraveled in the apartment next door. Still others hold the wistful allure of decades—or centuries—gone by. A very few attempt to do all this in a single narrative. 

In Third Love, best-selling Japanese novelist Hiromi Kawakami unites disparate eras and realities to propose an unconventional solution to a problem that has plagued women since the dawn of time. Fans will recognize Kawakami’s signature propensity to question love, memory, and the passion that alternately connects and repels human hearts. But in spite of Kawakami’s innovative solution to her heroine’s travails, deeper reflection leaves us wondering if her novel actually offers a path forward were we to find ourselves in a similar predicament.  

When we meet Riko, she’s been married for six years and has been in love with her husband, Naruya, whom she has called “Naa-chan,” ever since she was a toddler. A mentee of her father, Naruya has always enjoyed special access to Riko’s family’s meals and traditions. She never questioned doing everything for his approval—or burning with jealousy when he took a girlfriend while she was in primary school and he was in college. Riko also didn’t question Naa-chan when he seduced her in high school but refused to break up with his girlfriend. Given this ominous start to their romantic relationship, we are less surprised than Riko when the girlfriend does not disappear after the wedding. 

Instead, as time passes and Naa-chan grows more careless (or Riko grows less naïve), the other woman multiplies into a string of men and women, and Riko is left with a shell of a marriage that she furiously tries to maintain for the sake of her parents and her own sanity.  

Thus far Third Love is fairly predictable. But when we expect Riko to have a mental or emotional breakdown (very likely), or put her foot down and assert her own desires (less likely), or end the marriage (very unlikely, since they live with her parents in Japan), the novel takes a completely unexpected turn. Riko does nothing. Instead, she begins having extremely vivid dreams that transport her to earlier periods in Japanese history. In these dreams, she inhabits other women’s bodies. These alter-egos help her reconcile with facets of the emotional or physical turmoil she is experiencing in real life. 

Riko’s first alter-ego is Shungetsu, an oiran living in the Yoshiwara district during the Edo period. As she inhabits this woman’s body, we can see her processing her resentment toward Naa-chan for being “used” as a housekeeper and sexual partner when his lovers are not available, but not being valued for her mental or spiritual potential. But in spite of months of dreaming about Shungetsu, we also discern that Riko can’t erase her love for Naa-chan: “The more I dream, the more my feelings about Naa-chan are altered—the pain I feel seeing his face, saying his name, even listening to him breathe, is no longer there. I love Naa-chan as I always have….It’s part of me, like my body, my voice.” 

These evolving feelings eventually play themselves out in her daytime marriage—and subsequently transport Riko to a different dream world.  

After the birth of Riko and Naa-chan’s son, Toji, Riko begins inhabiting a nameless nyōbō in the Heian period. In these dreams, the princess whom Riko serves must endure a philandering husband, and Riko’s alter-ego experiences a variety of relationships and yearnings. In this world, we notice that Riko’s feelings toward herself and Naa-chan are more intricate, due both to motherhood and the mentorship of Mr. Takaoka, an old friend who notices her suffering and offers unconventional relief.  

Mr. Takaoka is perhaps the most fascinating and frustrating character in Third Love. He possesses the mysterious power to enter and exit Riko’s dreams at will—and may or may not have been reincarnated. He is also the reason it’s nearly impossible to categorize the novel. Magical realism? Fantasy? Historical fiction? What is clear is that Mr. Takaoka functions as a deeply personal guru to guide Riko through her healing journey: 

We talked about anything and everything as we ate. Mr. Takaoka spoke of the things he had encountered on his journeys – the people, the animals, the sights. I did the same, talking about Toji, my job at the university, and so on as it came to me. This was not a mere exchange of information. Our words hung in the room for only a moment, deepening our intimacy…Mr. Takaoka was so important to me, my irreplaceable companion…Yet I have to add what linked us was not romantic love. 

In spite of Riko’s initial confidence about their platonic relationship, we begin to question both Mr. Takaoka’s and Riko’s desires by the novel’s end. I often wondered if he was the mysterious “third love” predicted by the title. This possibility provided an additional layer of suspense as I read, as well as hopeful curiosity to counteract the emotional turmoil that accompanies a novel hinging on marital infidelity.  

But as I reached the end of Third Love, I felt a bit nonplussed. Most of us can’t escape infidelity via hyper-realistic dreams, but some of us may be blessed with friends who support us in moments of tragedy. However, the “third love” Kawakami finally proposes for Riko seems too vague and inaccessible compared to the vivid worlds that she’s spent nearly 300 pages constructing. Nevertheless, for those of us who enjoy inhabiting other worlds, this novel offers a striking “dream within a dream,” as another beloved writer so aptly penned.  

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