“Men Without Women” by Haruki Murakami.

I hadn’t picked up a book by Murakami in a while, despite him being one of my favourite authors. Looking back at my last review of one of his books, I said that I had to take a break because everything he wrote just seemed too similar to me, to the point that I was getting bored and annoyed. That was a great decision. Because these stories are still classic Murakami, integrating all of his usual elements, namely; a cat, jazz music, rainy days, suicide and bizarre happenings, but they felt new and mesmerising. They provoked so many thoughts that after I had finished the book, I wrote six whole journal entries about some of the excerpts that I found interesting from this collection.

The stories range from ordinary to vague and increasingly mysterious. The main character is always a man who feels slightly lost in life, and as such has to navigate his relationships with the women around him with care. It’s fascinating how similar the premise of these stories is to Hanif Kureishi’s ‘Love in a Blue Time’, which I read just a few weeks ago, but the two collections couldn’t be more different. While there is a brutality and vulgarity to Kureishi’s stories, Murakami’s stories have an atmosphere of stillness and delicacy. What these stories really illustrate is how much people can really complement each other. The women in Murakami’s stories always introduce excitement or present a new perspective that the main character would not otherwise have. Granted, this seems pretty obvious since that’s how we all see the people in our lives, but through the prism of intimacy, these aspects can add so much more. The discussions between the characters are fascinating and although they often edge closer to philosophical musings rather than simple conversations, it does not feel pretentious or forced at any point. The best example of this is the dream about the lampreys, but it would be impossible to recount here as eloquently as Murakami did in his book, so if you’re intrigued then this in itself is already an incentive for you to read the book.

I’d like to take just two of the excerpts that I found particularly inspiring and comment on them here. The first is taken from a moment in a story where the main character has had to go into hiding, although the reader never finds out why, and as such he’s been cautioned not to contact anyone yet he still sends a postcard to his aunt. What follows are his thoughts;

Kino wasn’t at all sure what had motivated him to write that. […] But Kino couldn’t restrain himself. I have to somehow get connected to reality again, he thought, or else I won’t be me anymore. I’ll become a man who doesn’t exist.

I had never encountered this feeling being described before, so this came as a pleasant surprise. Perhaps not everyone can relate to it, as I think it really applies to this theme of loneliness, but sometimes one may be overcome with this sensation that you are fading away, somehow disappearing from reality and at that moment there is a strong urge to either contact someone or, what social media has made increasingly easy, to prove that you still exist by making your presence known. It does not fall into the category of attention-seeking, since this particular feeling comes from a darker place. One which is difficult to explain if you have not been there. In any case, this was a small but meaningful excerpt.This is especially true for introverts because we often tend to live inside our minds, so much so that is is easier to get lost in that and disconnect from the world.

Funnily enough, I’d already written about the second excerpt but changed my mind about what I wanted to say about this collection. I’d rather like to comment on the very last story, titled ‘Men Without Women’. This is a story of longing, with very few details. It rather sets the scene of a man remembering a woman in his life, who has just died, and as he remembers her, he begins to feel as if a part of him has gone as well. The level of detail that Murakami is able to go into with regard to their affair, while still remaining vague enough that this story could apply to almost anyone, is an absolute skill. But the main question, that arises after reading it, is; what makes a man place himself in the category of ‘Men Without Women’? I found it beyond compelling to try to understand why this particular woman’s death evoked such strong emotions in the main character. The answers ranged from cynical – being that she had killed herself and so he felt obliged to delve into memories and moments spent with her, to more profound – that every person who we encounter leaves their mark upon us, and whether we like to admit it or not, we think about them more often that we’d like to admit, and as such their death, even if we have not see them for years, sends ripples of true sadness upon us, as if, because of that person being forever gone, the hope, which persists in our minds that we might one day encounter them and the story might begin anew, is gone.

This might quite possibly be my longest review, but I feel like this book deserved this in-depth and personalised analysis. I couldn’t even begin to express how much I suggest that you read it, because there are so many minute fragments from the conversations between the main characters, that I think might lead to some interesting thoughts, that it would be great to see what other people take away from this gem of a collection.

I give this book five out of five wine bottles.

        

“Dance Dance Dance” by Haruki Murakami.

 

 It took me quite a while to finish this novel, because as much as it sounds like a paradox – one of my favourite writers had begun to irritate me. That does not mean that I did not enjoy this book, but it does mean that I have now lost that special feeling which I always had when I picked up a book by Murakami. The reason for this is obvious, since it seems only reasonable that after reading a certain amount of books by one author his style may seem repetitive, and this was precisely what irked me.

The novel involves a variety of intriguing characters from the narrator, to high-class prostitutes, a famous actor, a thirteen-year-old girl with a difficult childhood and the Sheep Man. This was once again an incredibly positive aspect because Murakami’s ability to dream up small but significant character traits is really admirable. The problem for me was that I had already encountered these characters before, not in the same shape and form, but definitely  in their mindset. I had to stop half-way through the book and ask myself if I had read this book already, but then I concluded that it was just very(!) similar to everything else I had read from Murakami.

For me Yuki, the thirteen-year-old, was the element which made the book interesting because her troublesome relationship with her parents, her intuition and her attitude in general formed something which seemed intriguing, and Murakami managed to sustain this intrigue to the very end. Her story really evoked a strong point, one of abandonment, and I think that through the narrator one could feel the desperation and hopelessness of Yuki and in a way the narrator himself as he could not really help her, which is often the case.

The novel did not really have a plot, as it was filled with mysterious events which all blended together in order to create the finale. The characters talked a lot about their lives, while the narrator remained impartial and relatively uninvolved, just as always, they listened to a lot of music, cooked and ate a lot of food, drank a lot of alcohol and so on. And of course, there was another reality which tied in with everything that happened in the real world and existed as a tool with which to add an eerie feeling. All of this has been done in other books and has been executed in a much better fashion.

What Murakami did create splendidly and seamlessly once again was the idea of being disconnected from society. All of the characters do not really fit into the natural and average way of things, especially the narrator, which is why they understood each other so well. The feeling of loneliness and alienation really did resonate with me because he describes it so well, without even referring to it specifically. Even from the very beginning the narrator decides to leave his job for a while, because he can no longer exist in his routine, and it takes him a long time, until the mystery is solved, to pull himself together and decide to return to the ‘real world’. In addition to that, despite meeting people all the time, he cannot escape a certain hopelessness.

As far as the title of the book goes in relation to what the Sheep Man told the narrator, it seems like quite an interesting way of saying that one should let themselves be carried forward with whatever comes their way. An idea of using opportunities and surrendering oneself to even the most mysterious events that occur. There may be a more philosophical explanation, but I found this one to be sufficient.

That being said, all of this was nothing new. I remember, how excited I was when I read ‘A Wild Sheep Chase‘ and ‘Norwegian Wood‘ for the first time, because I momentarily fell in love with all the little things Murakami writes about. Those books were superior to this one anyway, but it seems that I need to take a break from Murakami for a while. I would still recommend him to everyone, because he writes beautifully and deals with major themes such as death, loss, loneliness, love and many more, so there is something for everyone in his books. I must say that I am envious of everyone who will read one of his books for the first time, but I am sure that after a year or two, when I will read a book of his again I will once again discover what I have lost.

 I give this book three out of five wine bottles.

    

“Kafka on the Shore” by Haruki Murakami.

 Murakami always encourages me to create a certain atmosphere around myself when I read anything by him. To make a cup of strong black coffee and  leave a quiet jazz tune on. And so I did. The book took me in from the very beginning.

I have always found that Murakami writes two different types of books – they are either very ‘normal‘ or extremely bizarre. A ‘normal’ example would be “Norwegian Wood” and a bizarre would be “Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World”. This could be placed in the bizarre category, while it did not entirely begin that way. I am not a science fiction or fantasy enthusiast, so the less I find in a book I am reading the better. In this case while I appreciated Murakami’s effort to create mystery and his attempt to write the book in a manner which resembles a riddle, where the reader must piece together what he is given and determine the outcome for himself, it was all slightly too much in the end.

I shall not give a synopsis here, but if you wish to read one, just look on Google or Goodreads. I would prefer to simply talk about the story and characters. The plot itself I did enjoy immensely because it was so strange and alluring. Even as I started the book, I immediately wanted to know how it would end. Once again I found all I admire in Murakami – cigarettes, coffee, cooking and eating of delicious foods (a lot), tragic and melancholic characters and the blunt sexual scenes which also have their charm. Cats, let us not forget cats.

Where I am torn is as to whether I actually did like the book as it is, or would I have preferred if Murakami would have limited himself to these elements placed in this plot without the overly cryptic and peculiar conclusion. What I will say is – it was a very unfortunate choice as a book for the World Cat Day. The conversations Satoru had with cats was a very nice touch and they were written beautifully as the cats, at least some of them, seemed to have very bright and eloquent personalities. Johnnie Walker and his story with cats was something else altogether. This was when I first realised that this book might not be my cup of tea.

I did enjoy the hazy almost dream reality that Murakami created by the end of the novel, but I had lost my connection with it by that point. Also I found it difficult that so little was explained by the end of the book. This book was the ultimate tease, because there were so many intriguing hints – such as the village, the World War II incident, the mother / sister connection, but unfortunately they remained only hints and it was the reader’s job to interpret them any way he liked.

The main character Kafka Tamura seemed to be quite a mature fifteen year-old, to the point where it was hardly believable. There were times when I just disregarded this detail and rather imagined him as older, because Murakami has written insightful and fascinating portrayals of 20 and 30 year-old men, but I did not find this image convincing. I understand that for the purposes of this story he wanted Kafka to be young, but it just did not seem plausible.

On the other hand the creation of characters such as Oshima, Miss Saeki, Satoru and the cat Mimi reminded me why Murakami is one of my favourite writers. They were all so unique and quirky, that it was a pleasure to explore their stories and their backgrounds. What I delight in with Murakami that it sometimes seems that the more he writes about a character and the more he reveals, the more obscure and mysterious they become.

I would recommend this book, just because it is in my self-interest that you should read it and report back. Perhaps another’s interpretation of the story would provide a different view for me as well. As it stands I am still quite undecided about this novel.

 Therefore I give this book three out of five stars, a compromise if you will.

    

“South of the Border, West of the Sun” by Haruki Murakami.

 Rainy days only seem bearable when one is within the safety of their apartment, house, building … On this day at one o’clock in the afternoon the sky was dark and dreary, so I decided to do nothing but read. A short book from the shelf, so I picked up this novel by Murakami, which is not necessarily among his well-known works, but I had heard of it before. I did not realize that I would be thinking about this book days after I had finished reading it.

I began the journey in the world of Hajime. In his childhood. Being an only child he was quite the exception in those days. However he met another just like him, a girl – Shimamoto. Their friendship was charming – the talks, the jazz records. It was such peaceful beauty. Then they both part ways and meet again much later, when Hajime is married, runs booming nightclubs and has finally regained a sense of purpose. Needless to say Shimamoto changes everything.

The reason why I could not stop reading that day, was because I had become deeply involved in Hajime’s life. Murakami described the journey through this man’s life with such poetry and such longing, that I felt I was living alongside Hajime. Hajime’s love for Shimamoto is understandable – she is the ultimate mystery. His love is revived and becomes more vivid after seeing her again after all these years and seeing how beautiful she has become. He is plunged into nostalgia and becomes a boy again, because Shimamoto has not changed in his eyes.

This truly is a novel for the nostalgics. For people who look into the past every day and wander amongst their most cherished memories. Murakami shows that sometimes memories should remain within the past and that if they were to become alive, they could ruin your current being and everything you have achieved until then. I suppose in this aspect Murakami is the only writer who has convinced me of this, because after I read this book, I began to perceive my life differently. I became more involved in the present, whereas before I had yearned for the past – to go to certain places again, whether it would be a café, a bar, a city, to see a person I had admired before, small and innocent desires, but which were ultimately unnecessary and would even potentially endanger my present situation.

Murakami is not a predictable writer where the plot is concerned, but he is predictable in the details of his writing, but once a reader becomes accustomed to them, it is difficult to leave that world. There is always jazz, beautiful descriptions of smoking, a melancholic ambiance, quiet and thoughtful conversations and most importantly characters, who are lost or tragic, yet this makes them seem all the more endearing.

  I give this novel five out of five wine bottles.