It has probably been a while since I have been so subtly creeped out, impressed, and enjoyed a book this much.
The Woman in the Purple Skirt starts like a tepid cup of water, and instead of cooling down to room temperature, the pace of the novel ratchets up with every page turned. The most interesting thing about this book is that it is neither horrifying nor mysterious. And unlike some Japanese literary fiction, it does not use shocking acts or extreme events to carry the characters' roles.
It is indeed a slow burn of sorts, and the reader becomes totally absorbed in the actions and mindset of the story's narrator. I am also quite impressed with how Natsuko Imamura veiled the identity of the narrator—I only started getting a slight inkling when I was almost midway through the book.
I'd definitely recommend this book to anyone who wants a good read. Just beware—it might leave you wondering who is actually secretly watching you, and what lengths you'd go to if you were in the narrator's shoes instead.