Kafka on the Shore

This book has all the classic murakami tropes- cats, classical music, and lots of wet dreams! All wrapped up in his subtly distinctive and beautiful writing. Really weird story to be completely honest as it is a retelling if the oepidus myth and it DOES in fact go off the rails a bit at the end but as a whole? A great book about a boy going through a metamorphosis of sorts.

I finished this book quite some time ago, and it's taken me a while to review this book, because frankly, I've just been at a loss of how to write a lucid and representative review. I felt tongue-tied and "writer blocked" in the afterglow on this spellbinding adventure. Murakami took me to realms I have not reached with books for a while now, and which I am still gently floating on. I finally did decide to write though, because I think it's imperative for me to document how I felt about the book and really try and impress upon other bibliophiles that they must, must, MUST read this! The two fundamental themes of the book are simple, and in fact, quite clichéd: one can run, but not escape, and life needs to be dealt with; and that every person has a purpose and a destiny to fulfil. The way these themes are illustrated is, however, far from simple, and to do so, Murakami shares with us two tales: one of a precocious fifteen-year old boy who leaves home in an attempt to escape his oppressions, and the other of a mentally challenged old man who needs support on many fronts to just go through daily life, but has curious abilities like being able to converse with cats and making fish rain from the sky. Both the protagonists undertake fascinating physical and metaphysical journeys which inevitably weave together at the end, but in very unusual and interesting ways. Accompanying them, or somehow associated with them, on these journeys are just a handful of other characters, who while clearly playing a supporting role, are essential to the "success" (as in some logical conclusion) of the journeys, and are enchanting in their own right. Murakami is very successful in illustrating the key themes of the book by the end (and in fact through most of its course), even though the plot is full of events that are oftentimes difficult to follow and challenge ones understanding. The book clearly demands a suspension of physical belief (refer fish example above), much in the vein of the magic realism of Marquez and Rushdie, but somehow, it doesn't feel the same. Similarly, while it deals extensively with the abstruse and the subconscious, it does not feel like surrealistic. Instead, all the unreal parts feel very natural, and it's very easy to accept them, just like it's easy to accept the myriad of contradictions that Japan (where this book is set) seems to be. Pulling this feat off is one of the most admirable stylistic achievements of this book. Another superb aspect of this book is the characters that Murakami has created. The breadth of the characters from the two protagonists through the hilarious avatar of Colonel Sanders to the confused gay "woman-in-man's-mind" is only matched by the depth of exploration of each character. The characters draw the reader into their minds and lives, allowing the reader to understand and empathize with them to very great extents, which is remarkable given the complexity and unreal nature of a lot of the characters. The one

I am not quite to the end of this amazing novel -- so surreal and yet so emotionally real -- and I can't wait to see what happens. I also wondered about the translation -- how much is Americanized for our benefit, and if it's not then is it even more dream-like in Japan? From Colonel Sanders to eggs for breakfast, and all the musical references -- Prince? A thoroughly modern book with historical context, Kafka on the Shore captured my attention completely. Don't worry about "getting it" and just go along for the ride. What a story!

Reading Murakami is a bit like going into therapy. The images and dreams can seem familiar and identifiable to others, but they are also full of personal meaning. Each book tightens the web of associations and memories for Murakami readers; as result they end up talking about other books in order to understand the novel at hand. (This is true with other writers as well, of course, but Murakami intentionally ventures into the dark psychological realm.) I loved this novel, and found it a very satisfying extension and refinement of his work, particularly Hard-Boiled Wonderland, Wind-Up Bird, and Dance, Dance, Dance. I particularly enjoyed the ending, the writer's usual area of weakness. But the book doesn't depend on the ending -- anywhere you enter, there are mental puzzles and verbal delights galore. I dreamt more than usual while reading this book. Murakami sends me deep into myself, where I examine those feelings and forces that churn and charge forward, driving me to express my true self and to take control of my own life. As with some of the other books, I had the feeling that I was becoming more fully myself while I followed the developing situation. Much of the novel exists between two worlds, which resonated deeply with me because of the death of my mother six months ago and my heightened awareness of her lingering presence. I swam everyday when I was reading "Kafka on the Shore," and being in water was an ideal medium for coming to terms with Kafka's progress through the labyrinth of familial obligation, anger, and self-knowledge. I read Tony Kushner's "A Dybbuk" while floating in the pool one afternoon -- a play in which a "living soul" inhabits the body of his beloved. The rabbi entrusted with her exorcism fails and love triumphs in a very uneasy world: it felt like I was reading a gloss on "Kafka." I had just finished a surf novel, "Tijuana Straits," before I started this one, and I kept hearing echoes from that work (by Kem Nunn) echoed as well as sections of Richard Linklatter's first film, "Slacker." This is the process many go through reading Murakami -- all sorts of elements come to more vivid life and stick to the psychological fly-paper. Like most Murakami novels, this felt improvised, as if he weren't sure where he was headed, but the prose was more polished and the story more buffed than the early novels. It seemed more like "East of the Sun" or the short stories, which is just fine by me. The national amnesia about the horrors of World War II was not explored as deeply as in Wind-Up Bird, but it was suggested enough to lead the reader to reconsider in light of current events in China and Japan. Among other things, Murakami is working things out in real time -- our time; as concerned as he is with the eternal, he is also writing quickly enough to let the present flicker through his words. There are surprises, recollections, jokes, and profundities aplenty. This seems an excellent introduction to the world of Haruki Muraka