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Kafka on the Shore Release date: Jan 03, 2006
Kafka on the Shore, a tour de force of metaphysical reality, is powered by two remarkable characters: a teenage boy, Kafka Tamura, who runs away from Kafka on the Shore, a tour de force of metaphysical reality, is powered by two remarkable characters: a teenage boy, Kafka Tamura, who runs away from home either to escape a gruesome oedipal prophecy or to search for his long-missing mother
and sister; and an aging simpleton called Nakata, who never recovered from a wartime affliction and now is drawn toward Kafka for reasons that, like the most basic activities of daily life, he cannot fathom. Their odyssey, as mysterious to them as it is to us, is enriched throughout by vivid accomplices and mesmerizing events. Cats and people carry on conversations, a ghostlike pimp employs a Hegel-quoting prostitute, a forest harbors soldiers apparently unaged since World War II, and rainstorms
of fish (and worse) fall from the sky. There is a brutal murder, with the identity of both victim and perpetrator a riddle—yet this, along with everything else, is eventually answered, just as the entwined destinies of Kafka and Nakata are gradually revealed, with one escaping his fate entirely and the other given a fresh start on his own.
...more Format: Print book Giveaway ends in: a Availability: 100 copies available, 11561 people requesting Giveaway dates: Sep 12 - Sep 26, 2022 Countries available: U.S. Friend ReviewsTo see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. Reader Q&ATo ask other readers questions about 海边的卡夫卡, please sign up. Popular Answered Questions
Christopher Weil I think you need to back up a bit in your reasoning. Why do you need to gain per-se at all? Kafka on the shore can't be fully understood because the a…moreI think you need to back up a bit in your reasoning. Why do you need to gain per-se at all? Kafka on the shore can't be fully understood because the author draws from many metaphysical sources. That plane of thinking is never clearly defined. But, to get a better understanding of Kafka on The Shore you have to read two of his other books, Hard Boiled Wonderland, and The Wind-up Bird Chronicle. Furthermore, I don't believe Murakami is popular for writing books that are "telling" and that's the beauty of his writing. Just like Virgina Woolf wrote stories that have absolutely no plot, which was unheard before her doing so. Much of the literature we read has something telling or something directly communicable. Murakami creates, instead, a feeling that is tied to the environments of his characters. You don't always understand what is occurring in a "this is coming together kind of way" to point to a realization about the character or about life. But there is a sense that you get with each event that he constructs beautifully. And the last thing I have to say, and what I am going to say goes well for most of people's contemporary attitudes about most of the material we consume, and that is, we look and value stories by their content. If you want to know why Murakami has gained acclaim just looking at the bizarre events striking his novels, it is not enough. Murakami has gain acclaim also for his writing style, which is clever, crisp--he simply paints well with words. And just as Marcus Bird has commented many of the plot elements that make-up his novels are difficult to pull off while not losing control of his story. Writers probably understand this better. (less)
Croatoan616 Right! That's what I felt, almost right away, MY world and I just want to read. Not even anticipating what's going to happen next, just let me read.…moreRight! That's what I felt, almost right away, MY world and I just want to read. Not even anticipating what's going to happen next, just let me read.(less) Community Reviews· 397,214 ratings · 30,432 reviews Start your review of 海边的卡夫卡
Kafka on the Shore is a metaphor. It follows no rules, it doesn’t adhere to reason, and applicability is not an issue. It fills you up, it tears you down. A fugue of emotions are present, you can’t seem to
figure out which of the many different realizations flooding you is most important. Waves roll up again and again on the beach of your consciousness and at first you resist, but after a while you understand that your struggle is pointless, so you give in. You read, you feel, you try to underst Kafka on the Shore is a metaphor. It follows no rules, it doesn’t adhere to reason, and applicability is not an issue. It fills you up, it tears you down. A
fugue of emotions are present, you can’t seem to figure out which of the many different realizations flooding you is most important. Waves roll up again and again on the beach of your consciousness and at first you resist, but after a while you understand that your struggle is pointless, so you give in. You read, you feel, you try to understand, you try to make sense. And you know what? You love it. I don’t think I can adequately get the gist of a Murakami experience on a goodreads review.
It’s something else, something you have to experience for yourself. I will try, but I know I shall fail. You have to realize that reading Murakami requires a unity of perception and feeling. I can try to make you understand certain concepts found in the book, but I will fall short on the sensory part. Murakami’s strength is the feeling he wraps around his teachings. He’s a surrealist painter, a musician, an oddity that weaves consciousness with pop-culture and makes it work. People say his works
are easily accessible yet elegantly complex, I whole-heartedly agree. His style is so rich and resonant that it can dabble into lunacy without any sort of urgency. He isn’t regulated in any way, a writer free from normative paradigms and moral constraints. He’s pretty strange, but trust me, it’s awesome the way he writes. Okay, I’m gonna stop myself here. All I’m going to say is try it, experience it. See for yourself. This novel is shared between two people’s inter-connected tales of
self-discovery. A damaged fifteen year-old named Kafka, an illiterate and magical old-man named Nakata, one fleeing from something, the other searching, one looking forward, the other looking back, one with a bright future ahead of him, the other with a dark past. Two very different people, yet their fates are intertwined by something so inconspicuous. As I said, Murakami hurls many different things at you at break-neck speed. He can talk about fate one minute, then drop it and talk about
imperfection the next. It’s kind of messy at times, but the cumulative effect is still pretty solid. It’s like he’s packing everything in a mumble-jumble of thoughts that confusion is a constant. But when you sift through his words, you find that your confusion is more of feeling than an actual state of mind. You understand him perfectly, but you can’t put into words the emotion inside you. Stunning is I think the closest word possible to describing it. For me, though, the thing that stood out
the most was his ode to time. “Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about every day, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some
things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.” Time is an important concept. It is correlated to love and memory, two other topics that are central in Murakami’s points. You see, some people when they find love and are at their happiest, they want to freeze time and live in that moment forever. But what they have to know is that a moment alone will lose all meaning. The present is useless without both the past and
future. You cannot appreciate something without knowing how you got there nor understanding that something will come out of it. The past gives a history, the future a possibility. Time is thing of beauty. Life without it is like air, you exist but you are stagnant and boring. With it, it is like the wind, moving, dancing, flowing into the unknown. But not only that, time makes love possible, because love takes time. “Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back.
That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you'll live forever in your own private library.” Aside from love, time also makes
one important thing possible. Memories. “If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.” It allows us to store things inside our minds so that we can cherish them as long as we can. It permits us to remember those that have been, those that build up who we are. Because each person is shaped by the cumulative memories that he or she makes. Whether they may be happy or painful or boring, they mold us into who we are. Identity is slowly transformed over time, with our memories
playing a vital role. “Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm,
closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine. And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a
thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others. And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.” Our identity, no
matter how much time and memories change it, some part of it will stay the same. There are things that are unchangeable, things that will make you look into the past and see the same thing now. But, there are things that we purposely hold on to that hurt us, things that we hide in us and contain through time. Things that we can let go of, but we don’t, even if it is painful. A time will come when you will have to let go. “In everybody’s life there’s a point of no return. And in a very few
cases, a point where you can’t go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive.” “As long as there’s such a thing as time, everybody‘s damaged in the end, changed into something else. “But if that happens, you’ve got a place you can retrace your steps to” “Retrace your steps to?” “A place that’s worth coming back to.” As I finish this review, I’m very excited. Yes, I know that I’ve got my memories
to look back to, but what I’m excited about are those memories that haven’t been made yet. The future is ahead of me, I’ve got time on my hands. The possibilities are endless.
”Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous
dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no
direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.” His given name isn’t Kafka Tamura, but when he decides to strike out on his own he gave himself a name that more properly fit the version of himself he wanted to become. Kafka means crow in Czech. A name of significance to an inner self. His father is a world famous sculptor, a man admired for the strength of emotion his creations inspire.
He also brought his son into existence (no hocus pocus here...the old fashioned way) molding him as if he were inanimate clay, infusing him with imagination, and in the end like a demented soothsayer, warping him with an Oedipus curse. Kill the father. ”It’s all a question of imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine. It’s just like Yeats said: In dreams begin responsibilities. Flip this around and you could say
that where there’s no power to imagine, no responsibility can arise.” Kafka is fifteen, not going on sixteen, but barely fifteen. He is on a quest to find himself. Like an arrow shot by a sure hand he lands at a private library managed by a beautiful woman named Miss Saeki. ”I look for the fifteen-year-old girl in her and find her right away. She’s hidden, asleep, like a 3-D painting in the forest of
her heart. But if you look carefully you can spot her. My chest starts pounding again, like somebody’s hammering a long nail into the walls surrounding it.” Kafka feels a kinship with her that makes him wonder if she is his long lost mother. She has experienced tragedy, losing a lover when she was fifteen, and leaving behind a ghost of herself that becomes a haunting experience for Kafka. ”While they’re still alive, people can become ghosts.” As a parallel story we follow
the old man Nakata and his truck driving sidekick Hoshino. Nakata experienced something as a child during the war that left him unable to comprehend reality, but also opened up doorways in his mind to things that if they ever existed... in our minds... have long been lost. He is crazy. Nakata searches for
lost cats and discovers in the process that he has an arch nemesis in a cat killing phantom named Johnnie Walker. Johnnie turns cats into beautiful flutes and collects their heads in a similar fashion to big game hunters. After a confrontation Nakata finds himself with the need to leave which dovetails perfectly with his quest to find an entrance stone that opens up another world, another world where things have been left behind. "You should start searching for the other half of your
shadow.” The connection between Nakata and Kafka are very strong. Their dreams mingle, a nemesis for one is a nemesis for the other. They may have different names, but they are one and the same. The quest for one of our heroes is contingent on the success of the other. If they are aware of each other it is buried under their own current perceptions of reality. One of the more humorous moments is when Hoshino, once a perfectly sane normal human being, meets Colonel Sanders, not
someone dressed as Colonel Sanders, but the finger lickin’ good, fried chicken magnet himself. Hoshino, after several days of trying to wrap his head around the eccentricities of his traveling companion, is in need of relaxation. As it turns out the Colonel can help him have the best time of his life. He hooks him up with a prostitute, but not just any prostitute. ”The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future. In truth, all sensation is already
memory.” A philosophical prostitute with a special penchant for Hegel. ”Hegel believed that a person is not merely conscious of self and object as separate entities, but through the projection of the self via the mediation of the object is volitionally able to gain a deeper understanding of the self. All of which constitutes self-consciousness.” “I dont’ know what the heck you’re talking about.” “Well, think of what I’m doing to you right now. For me I’m the
self, and you’re the object. For you, of course, it’s the exact opposite--you’re the self to you and I’m the object. And by exchanging self and object, we can project ourselves into the other and gain self-consciousness. Volitionally.” “I still don’t get it, but it sure feels good.” “That’s the whole idea.” the girl said. I have a new appreciation for Hegel. Kafka also meets a fantastic character named Oshima which I really can’t talk about without explaining him
in detail, but by explaining him in detail would reveal a rather surprising moment in the book which I really want to preserve for those that haven’t read this book yet. Let’s just say he isn’t exactly who he seems, but he is exactly who he says he is. He proves to be the perfect friend for anyone, but for a dream questing fifteen year old runaway trying to escape an Oedipus Curse he is a steady rock to understand even those things beyond the scope of comprehension. He sees things for more than
what they are. Oshima explains to Kafka why he likes Schubert. ”That’s why I like to listen to Schubert while I’m driving. Like I said, it’s because all the performances are imperfect. A dense, artistic kind of imperfection stimulates your consciousness, keeps you alert. If I listen to some utterly perfect performance of an utterly perfect piece while I’m driving. I might want to close my eyes and die right then and there. But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of
what humans are capable of--that a certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect. And personally, I find that encouraging.” It is hard for those of us who have based their whole life off of reason to keep from instantly dismissing the improbable, the impossible, the absurd, the preposterous, but you must if you are going to hang with Haruki Murakami. Although, I must say there is something very accessible about his writing style that
makes the transition from reality to alternative reality to fantasy back to a new reality painless. We all have mystical things happen to us. We rarely recognize it, most times we fill in what we don’t understand with something we can understand and in the process snap the threads of the extraordinary. I feel the lure of the unknown quite regularly. I feel the itch to leave everything and go someplace where no one knows my name. A place where maybe I can find the rest of my self, the lost
selves each holding a fragment of the missing part of my shadow. If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visithttp://www.jeffreykeeten.com
Few books have infected me with boredom-induced ADD, the desire to gnaw my own foot off at the ankle, and the state of mind you might experience if forced to sit upon a nest of hornets while watching your home being burglarized, but this was one of them. It took me until page 70 to stop wanting to hop up and rearrange the spice cupboard or my sock drawer every few sentences, but then the feeling returned at
page 243. Only 224 pages to go! From then on, my hatred and resentment of this book progr Few books have infected me with boredom-induced ADD, the desire to gnaw my own foot off at the ankle, and the state of mind you might experience if forced to sit upon a nest of hornets while watching your home being burglarized, but this was one of them. It took me until page 70 to stop wanting to hop up and rearrange the spice cupboard or my sock drawer every
few sentences, but then the feeling returned at page 243. Only 224 pages to go! From then on, my hatred and resentment of this book progressively grew like a dead cow bloating in the heat. “Kafka on the Shore” is a mess. It is such a mess that it makes my six-year-old son’s post-playdate bedroom look like Buckingham Palace. Loosely based on the Oedipus myth, and taking some obvious inspiration from Catcher in the Rye, this book seems to be little more than a random hodgepodge of ideas held
together with pipe cleaners and raspberry jam. There was so much to hate about this book. Here are just a few things: After the first 100 pages I thought that I might end up giving this book three stars. Another 100 pages on, I decided two stars. By page 331 I decided one star, and by the end of this frustrating, pretentious, and completely unsatisfying book, I felt like I’d squandered so much of my precious life reading this pile o’ doo-doo that I didn’t want to give it even one star. However, since Mr. Murakami knows how to spell (or at least, I’m
assuming he does since this is a translation) I will relent. In the end, love or loathing of a book is entirely subjective, and scores of critics loved this one. As for me, I feel that if I’d wanted to find meaning in a random jumble of junk, I would have had more luck going to the thrift store and sifting through the bric-a-brac box than wasting time on Mr. Murakami’s brain-omelette.
second read thoughts: I thought I'd get a better understanding for this story the second time around, but I'm still lost in a world full of questions. I know that's partly the
author's intent though! I feel like I'm going to drive myself crazy if I keep trying to make sense of what this book is trying to achieve. I think that's kind of the point though. This book isn't trying to achieve anything, it's one of those books where the reader is left to decide what the book ultimately does. Which make second read thoughts: I thought I'd get a better understanding for this story the second time around, but I'm still lost in a
world full of questions. I know that's partly the author's intent though! I feel like I'm going to drive myself crazy if I keep trying to make sense of what this book is trying to achieve. I think that's kind of the point though. This book isn't trying to achieve anything, it's one of those books where the reader is left to decide what the book ultimately does. Which makes this an even more interesting experience, because everyone comes out of it with something different. first read thoughts:
This was definitely an interesting read. I feel like I will have to read it again for everything to fully make sense, but I was surprised by how easy this book was to follow. I also loved the writing style! I will definitely be giving more books by Haruki Murakami ago in the future.
I feel compelled to say something about this right now, simply for the fact that I have seen a
lot of Murakami bickering on goodreads over the years, and it has done nothing but increase in frequency in the moments leading up to, during, and beyond the release of his mammoth novel 1Q84, meaning the last couple o' months. I guess I just feel a need to state my case for the man, since he seems severely divisive in this striking way. Sure, I could certainly compose a lengthy list of love-or-hate wr I feel compelled to say something about this
right now, simply for the fact that I have seen a lot of Murakami bickering on goodreads over the years, and it has done nothing but increase in frequency in the moments leading up to, during, and beyond the release of his mammoth novel 1Q84, meaning the last couple o' months. I guess I just feel a need to state my case for the man, since he seems severely divisive in this striking way. Sure, I could certainly compose a lengthy list of love-or-hate writers I've witnessed throughout my stint on
this website, but Murakami is one of the dudes who seems to catch oddly equal amount of rapturous praise and sneering vitriol. When one considers reading his work and attempts to decide whether or not to invest the time based solely on the thoughts others have shared here on this website, it must make the head do some Exorcist-spins. It has been nearly a decade since I first jumped into Murakami's world, and the majority of my readings of his works were conducted in the rapid-fire process
which ensued almost immediately after my cherry-popper, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Having always been a classics sorta girl, occasionally dipping into beat and dystopian works, it was a strange experience to approach something so far-removed from what I was accustomed to appreciating. I loved it, though...passionately loved it at the time, and stuck with him over the years as a consistent replacement for the dreams that I do not ever remember having. Like, ever. I find myself
increasingly disappointed by the Murakami I read, though, and I'm not sure if that is a matter of growing out of him, or simply reading his best works first, and his lesser works after. However, this is a great book. As I recall. I will continue to note it as a favorite if only for the fact that at the time, I felt something stirring in my subconscious which had previously been silently stewing. He manages to orchestrate a veritable dance of imagery with his bizarro story-lines, and
he is pretty insightful on the subject of dark emotional landscapes in his stilted, very Japanese way. This *is* a great book. I want people to love him and his novels as much as I do. In fact, I want to still love his novels as much as I remember that I did when first exposed to them. I did read one of his short stories much more recently, though, (Tony Takitani) and I definitely found it to be a haunting and ethereal seance of death-fears, lost loves, and regret which reminded me
of all those big, intangible emotions type-o-thangs that made me love his work way back when I was a drunken, reckless, irresponsible art school kid who had barely just evacuated her mother's birth canal and spent most of her time poor, painfully morosely hungover, clutching a cigarette in her fixer-stinking hand while muttering various cynicisms to herself, and perpetually wondering what the fuck she was doing about anything and everything. Alright, almost everything I just said still applies,
but at least I acknowledge it now. Basically, I should reread his works and reconsider my perspective. I doubt I will ever do that, though. I'm sorta fond of my fond memories of fondness. All the same, if you read this or similar novels by him and think they suck, don't give me grief about it. I remember him in that way in which you recollect a lover who may have been a horrible match, but treated you well enough to warrant an occasional "what if" type of idealized bullshit reminiscence.
I'm glad I read him when I did, but I must confess that as soon as I held a hard copy of 1Q84 in my hands, made note of the necessary time commitment, and considered the number of books of equal length that I desperately want to read, I just knew that Murakami and I were basically through. I will still go in for the occasional quickie, but I just don't think I'm ready to settle down with him and get serious again. That was then and this is now. Know what I'm sayin'? He's still a wonderful
storyteller, though. I hope that if you two have yet to meet, it's under the right circumstances when you do. He's a lovely fella.
“What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow.” As I've stated before, I was late to the the Murakami banquet, but once I arrived I was treated to a maganificent feast, and “What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow.”Haruki Murakami -- Kafka on the Shore There are few writers ~~ very few writers, whose worlds I love to inhabit. Woolf is one of them; so too is Joyce, Chekhov another, as are Dickens, Twain, Proust and Tolstoy. I can now add to that list, Haruki Murakami. As I've stated before, I was late to the the Murakami banquet, but once I arrived I was treated to a maganificent feast, and now I have been treated to the main course KAFKA ON THE SHORE. Kafka is one of the most delicious meals I have ever been served. If I could, I would give this magnificent book six stars. KAFKA ON THE SHORE is a nearly perfect novel. KAFKA ON THE SHORE is a beautifully told story about needing to let go and step out of your own reality in order to find out that life is meant to be lived. Leading us on the journey of self-discovery is fifteen-year-old Kafka Tamura. We join Kafka on his journey from runaway to enlightened being. Our other guide is Mr. Nakata, who lives half in this world and half in a world not of his choosing. At the same time, we meet a whole lot of other people who lack self-awareness, living on the fringe of society ~~ and what a colorful cast of characters it is. There is Oshima, who lives on the edge of genders. We meet Hoshino, whose eyes are opened to what he can be thru his interactions with Mr. Nakata, and who escapes his dead end reality and grows into a new one. And lastly, Miss Saeki who has chosen to live in the past more than the present. KAFKA ON THE SHORE is a profoundly spiritual exploration of life, who we love, and the choices we make in life. Murakami introduces us to Zen and Buddhist philosophies, with a little Hinduism thrown in for good measure. KAFKA ON THE SHORE would make a terrific companion piece to Thomas Merton’s Zen and the Birds of Appetite and The Wisdom of the Desert. There is much to love in KAFKA ON THE SHORE. Like most brilliant pieces of literature, it was difficult to leave the world Murakami created. KAFKA ON THE SHORE will resonate with me for years to come. Rarely has a book satisfied me on so many levels.
海辺のカフカ = Umibe no kafuka = Kafka On The Shore, Haruki Murakami Kafka On The Shore is a 2002 novel by Japanese author Haruki Murakami. Its 2005 English translation was among "The 10 Best
Books of 2005" from The New York Times and received the World Fantasy Award for 2006. Comprising two distinct but interrelated plots, the narrative runs back and forth between both plots, taking up each plot-line in alternating chapters. The odd-numbered chapters tell the 15-year-old Kafka's story as he runs away fr Kafka On The Shore is a 2002 novel by Japanese
author Haruki Murakami. Its 2005 English translation was among "The 10 Best Books of 2005" from The New York Times and received the World Fantasy Award for 2006. Comprising two distinct but interrelated plots, the narrative runs back and forth between both plots, taking up each plot-line in alternating chapters. The odd-numbered chapters tell the 15-year-old Kafka's story as he runs away from his father's house to escape an Oedipal curse and to embark upon a quest to find his mother
and sister. After a series of adventures, he finds shelter in a quiet, private library in Takamatsu, run by the distant and aloof Miss Saeki and the intelligent and more welcoming Oshima. There he spends his days reading the unabridged Richard Francis Burton translation of One Thousand and One Nights and the collected works of Natsume Sōseki until the police begin inquiring after him in connection with the murder of his father that he does not know he has committed. Oshima
brings him to the forests of Kōchi Prefecture, where Kafka is ultimately healed. The even-numbered chapters tell Nakata's story. They start with military reports of a strange incident in Yamanashi Prefecture where multiple children, including Nakata, collapse in the woods - Nakata, after the incident, is the only one of the children who came out of the incident without any memory and unable to read and write. The incident is initially blamed on poisonous gas, but it is later
revealed that it was the result of a lustful teacher beating Nakata. Later on in the book, it is shown that due to his uncanny abilities, Nakata has found part-time work in his old age as a finder of lost cats. Having finally located and returned one particular cat to its owners, Nakata finds that the circumstances of the case have put him on a path which, unfolding one step at a time before him, takes the illiterate man far away from his familiar and comforting home territory. Nakata
kills a man named Johnnie Walker, a cat murderer. He takes a gigantic leap of faith in going on the road for the first time in his life, unable even to read a map and without knowing where he will eventually end up. عنوانهای چاپ شده در ایران: «کافکا در کرانه»؛ «کافکا در ساحل»؛ نویسنده: هاروکی موراکامی؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز یازدهم ماه نوامبر سال 2007میلادی عنوان: کافکا در کرانه؛ نویسنده: هاروکی موراکامی؛ مترجم مهدی غبرائی؛ تهران، نیلوفر، 1386، در 608ص، شابک 9789644483509؛ چاپ دوم
1387؛ چاپ سوم 1390؛ چاپ چهارم 1392؛ چاپ پنجم 1392؛ کتاب حاضر از متن انگلیسی ترجمه شده است؛ عنوان دیگر کافکا در ساحل؛ موضوع: داستانهای نویسندگان ژاپنی - سده 21م عنوان: کافکا در ساحل؛ نویسنده: هاروکی موراکامی؛ مترجم: آسیه عزیزی؛ پروانه عزیزی؛ تهران، بازتاب نگار، کتاب نادر، 1386، در 629ص، شابک 9789648223347؛ چاپ دوم 1388؛ چاپ دیگر تهران، بازتاب نگار، 1394؛ در 627ص؛ عنوان: کافکا در ساحل؛ نویسنده: هاروکی موراکامی؛ مترجم: گیتا گرکانی؛ تهران، کاروان، 1385، در 668ص، چاپ دیگر تهران، نگاه،
1392؛ شابک 9789643518325؛ چاپ سوم 1393؛ داستان دو شخصیت دیگر گونه است، که در موازات هم حرکت میکنند: «کافکا» که پسری پانزده ساله است، و به علت یک پیشگویی عجیب، از خانه فرار میکند، و آقای «ناکاتا»، پیرمرد آرام و مهربان و عجیبی که به علت رخدادی شگفت انگیز در بچگی، دچار نوعی عقب ماندگی ذهنی شده است، اما حاصل این رخداد، به دست آوردن توانایی گفتگو با گربه هاست!؛ بخشی از داستان، به «کافکا» و زندگی ایشان، و بخش دیگر به آقای «ناکاتا»، میپردازند؛ رمان در عین دو پارگی، دارای وحدت مضمون
است، و تمام رخدادها، حتی کوچکترین و جزییترین آنها، به هم مرتبط هستند؛ شاید چیزی که آثار «موراکامی»، و به ویژه این رمان را، دل انگیزتر میکند، سود بردن نویسنده، از رازواره های فرهنگ بومی «ژاپنی»، باشد؛ با خوانش این رمان، از پیشرفت داستان شادمان میشوید، و با باورها، و رسومی آشنا میگردید، که از آنِ مردمان «ژاپن» بوده و در این داستان نهادینه شده اند، باورهایی همانند: «پیشگویی»، «غیب بینی»؛ «وجود دنیاهایی ورای دنیای ما»؛ «حرکت بین گذشته و آینده»؛ و «یادمانهایی که هرگز کهنه نمیشوند»، و در
راستای زندگی روزمره جریان دارند، و تابوهای فرهنگی دیگر نیز، که به خوبی و در کمال هنرمندی، در لا به لای داستان گنجانیده شده اند تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 30/05/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 11/05/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
Definitely a page-turner! Once you start, you just keep on reading. Well, why do we stop reading a book? I think we can group the reasons into three: (1)
Natural - work, eat, toilet, eyes are tired, other distractions, etc; (2) Boredom - the book or its part is boring; and (3) Need to Digest - sometimes I read a phrase or an idea and it is either hard to understand so I read several times or too beautiful that I want it to sink in and I want to remember it forever. For my first Haruki Murakami bo For my first Haruki Murakami book, Kafka on the Shore, I could not put it down
because there is never a boring part especially the first third and on a lesser degree, the second third. I was expecting the last third to be the part where he should give the conclusion: tie up the many loose ends. All the while, that was the part where I though I should see his utter brilliance. He did not. He chose to let all ends hang loose. So, when I closed the book, I was groaning in front of my daughter. What? That's it? Ganun na lang ba?. So, I said, hmmm 3 stars. Then I
remembered what Doris Lessing wrote in her introduction to The Golden Notebook that if a novel is not open for interpretation, it is a boring novel. What makes a story interesting is if it open for interpretation and the more interpretations, the better. I am giving this a 4-star rating. But this book is not for everyone. If you are the type who asks questions like: so what happened to this character? why was he like that? where did he come from? how did this happen? what is the
connection of this and that? Then don't ever lay your hand on this Murakami masterpiece. Stick with your John Grisham or Dean Koontz thrillers where everything is explained thoroughly to please your rationale mind. Most readers are like you anyway. That's why those books sell more and they are always there occupying shelves and shelves of your nearby second-hand bookstore. Murakami, just like other literary masters, does not write to please. He seems not care about public reading
preference but he puts in brilliance in his work and it is up to the readers to appreciate his talent.
When I awoke, I realized I had slept through the night. But had it been a dream or not? It was impossible to tell. I got up, took a shower, brushed my teeth and shaved, paying special attention to my neck. When my face was again smooth and slightly pink from the razor, I went into the kitchen for breakfast. I washed down
an English muffin and jelly with two cups of strong black coffee, no sugar added, and walked out onto the balcony. The sun was still creeping higher in the sky, struggling to bre I washed down an English muffin and jelly with two cups of strong black coffee, no sugar added, and walked out onto the balcony. The sun was still creeping higher in the sky, struggling to break through a heavy bank of clouds. "It looks like a rather gloomy day," I said to no one in particular. "I don't know about that," a voice said to my left. I turned to see a small gray tabby cat, lounging on the next balcony over. Even without a
sunbeam to sleep in, he seemed to already be enjoying what promised to be another gray, humid day. "Oh, hello," I said, slightly surprised. I had never seen this cat before. "I thought I knew all of the cats around here. Where did you come from?" "Who can say?" replied the cat. "I go where I want to, when I want to. I don't like to think about such things. It's how I prefer to live my life." "I see," I replied. "Well, what is your name? It is easier for me to speak to you if I
know your name." "I don't have a name," the cat said. "Why should I? I don't need one." "Well if you don't mind, I will call you Princess Sparkles," I said. "If that makes things easier for you, though I am a boy," the cat said, yawning lazily. "You seem altogether too concerned with formalities for such an early morning. Why so serious?" I studied Princess Sparkles with interest. He was a very astute judge of character. Or at least mood. "You're right," I said. "I
have been thinking of a strange dream I had last night and I am not sure I understand what it was all about. Would you like to hear about it?" "If you like," Princess Sparkles said. "We cats aren't much for dreams. Our lives are so very interesting that we don't have much use for letting our imaginations wander during sleep." "Well it was very strange," I said. "And it did involve cats. In the first part of the dream, I was a teenage boy, recently run away from home due to a
possibly abusive father. After traveling solo for several days, I came across a quaint little library operated by an odd man and a woman who seemed very familiar. She reminded me of my mother, but then again, maybe she didn't. I was never quite sure on that score." "I never knew my mother," interjected Princess Sparkles, stretching out a paw to bat at a passing ant. "The odd man liked to talk about philosophy a lot, and music, and pencils, but a lot of that went over my head. When
things got really obtuse was when he took me to an isolated cabin in the woods, where I started having vivid sexual dreams and visions of another world." "Sounds fascinating," said the cat, eying a small squirrel crossing the telephone wire. "I haven't had much use for sex, either, but not having balls might have something to do with that." As if to illustrate his point, Princess Sparkles quickly shifted position, stretching a leg over his head, and began to lick his crotch. "Go
on," he said, looking up at me. "I'm still listening." "Well," I continued, "in the other part of my dream, I was this old man who was a bit slow-witted. I could still talk to cats, but I couldn't read. I was actually looking for a lost cat when I met an evil man who liked to kill cats quite brutally, cutting them open while they were still alive. It was quite horrific." "We do have our enemies," Princess Sparkles said, again looking up from his washing. "Some people find us
threatening. I suppose it is because we don't let them boss us around like mere dogs." "So anyway, I killed this evil man, who was a product mascot, even though I didn't recognize him, not being a whiskey drinker, and then passed out, but when I woke up, there was no blood. I tried to tell the police but they wouldn't listen to me. But then I felt compelled to leave town, and hitched a ride with a truck driver who took me a couple towns over. We didn't do too much along the way but I knew
I had to keep looking for something. The guy was really quite nice and interesting. Eventually we found that same library, and I talked with the woman and man, but the boy wasn't there. I wasn't sure if that was because he was another version of me or maybe because he was at the cabin. It was all very confusing. Like having nine lives, I bet." Princess Sparkles eyed me angrily. "That is a myth," he said. "When I die, I am just as dead as you. People just say cats have nine lives to justify
their ill treatment of us." "That's probably true," I told him. "Lots of people don't like to think about the pain and suffering of others, especially animals. Continuing my dream, my truck driving friend found what we were looking for, which was this big rock, but I didn't really understand that part. The man from Kentucky Fried Chicken helped him. Colonel Sanders was also a pimp and set the truck driver up with a beautiful college student who quoted Hegel. Come to think of it, there were
other sex parts in the dream that I forgot to mention. Quite a few, actually." I continued my story, gazing out again at the overcast sky. "The truck driver had to turn over the rock, which I think was the door to the underworld or limbo. Meanwhile, as the boy, I visited the underworld and met the ghost of the lady who worked at the library, even though she was still alive previously, or maybe not, because she was old and young at the same time. I left the strange place and in the
other part of the dream, the truck driver turned over the rock again. There was a bunch of stuff about a painting, a UFO, song lyrics, jazz, time travel, a slug monster, war, death and memory too, but those parts are slipping away, even now." I took a deep breath. Suddenly I felt more exhausted than I ever had in my entire life. "What do you think it means?" I asked, turning to the cat. Princess Sparkles had fallen asleep. -- "It's not something you can get across in words. The real response is something words can't express." -- Facebook 30 Day Book Challenge Day 28: Last book you read. ...more
Surreal. Poignant. Magical. Weird. And a classic Murakami from beginning to end. This was my third book by Mr. Murakami. 1Q84, I enjoyed but I don’t think I will be recommending it to anyone. Then came Norwegian Woods which I loved and have recommended to many friends. But Kafka on the Shore held a special place
in the hearts of my friends who have read Murakami. This seems to be their favourite. So I went into this with high expectations, and Mr. Murakami did not disappoint. Story starts with th This was my third book by Mr. Murakami. 1Q84, I enjoyed but I don’t think I will be recommending it to anyone. Then came Norwegian Woods which I loved and have recommended
to many friends. But Kafka on the Shore held a special place in the hearts of my friends who have read Murakami. This seems to be their favourite. So I went into this with high expectations, and Mr. Murakami did not disappoint. Story starts with the divulgence of a high profile investigation that happened in second WW. Fast forward five decades and we are introduced to Kafka Tamura, a 15 year old, who runs away from his family to find the truth about himself. Few chapters after we met our
second main character Nakata, a simpleton who talks to cats. After his retirement, Nakata survives by finding lost cats for people because of his special abilities. Even though they are miles apart from each other, and yet their story so intricately woven that it is hard to comprehend where one starts and the other ends. For me, this was the weirdest magical realm that I have ever read. Fishes falling from the sky, talking to cats (is there a word for being able to talk to cats?), a man
obsessed with the idea of creating a flute with the souls of cats, a man killing another man while the killer got away spotless, it was someone else woke up with a bloodied shirt miles away. I am sure any other time I would have DNFed something this weird but Mr. Murakami put a spell on me and I kept turning pages. The desire to know more about Kafka and Nakata and how their story entwines was too much. Just like 1Q84 and Norwegian Woods, Murakami tells us a lot about music and books
through his characters. Whenever I read him I end up searching authors and musicians. I love how he uses these two in his stories. So much happened in this book yet I will remember this book for its serenity and dreamlike story. Though he didn’t give us a conclusion here but I think this is the best way to end it. I don’t think a perfect ending is possible for this story. There will always be more “hows” and “buts”, so it’s better to let reader to create their own conclusion for this
one. A challenging but also an amazing read.
Is Your Figure Less Than Greek? Early in "Kafka on the Shore”, the 15 year old narrator, Kafka Tamura, warns us that his story is not a fairy tale. The
book's title is also the name of a painting and of a song mentioned in the novel, and it describes the one photo Kafka's father has kept in his drawer. But what Kafka neglects to tell us is that his story is a myth of epic, ancient Greek proportions. Murakami has concocted a contemporary blend of Oedipus and Orpheus, East and West, Freud and Jung, Early in "Kafka on the Shore”, the 15 year
old narrator, Kafka Tamura, warns us that his story is not a fairy tale. The book's title is also the name of a painting and of a song mentioned in the novel, and it describes the one photo Kafka's father has kept in his drawer. But what Kafka neglects to tell us is that his story is a myth of epic, ancient Greek proportions. Murakami has concocted a contemporary blend of Oedipus and Orpheus, East and West, Freud and Jung, Hegel and Marx, Tales of Genji and Arabian Nights, Shinto and
Buddhism, abstraction and action, alternating narratives and parallel worlds, seriousness and play, not to mention classical, jazz and pop music. Conceived as a sequel to "Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World”, it quickly took on a life of its own, and now sits somewhere between that work and "1Q84”. If you had to identify Murakami’s principal concerns as a writer, I would venture two: the transition from adolescence to adulthood, and the dynamic encounter
between consciousness (the ego) and the subconscious (the id). There are elements of both in "Kafka” . Thus, it stands as quintessential Murakami. The book I read. Search for the Other Half Like Greek theatrical masks that represent tragedy and comedy, life consists of dualities: "Light and dark. Hope and despair. Laughter and sadness. Trust and loneliness.” As hypothesised by Aristophanes via Plato, each individual is half what it once was (view spoiler)[apart, perhaps, from the character, Oshima (hide spoiler)]. Our shadow is faint or pale. Murakami urges: "You should start searching for the other half of your shadow.” Beware of Darkness Only, it’s easier said than done. We’re all "like some little kid afraid of the silence and the dark.” We are "seeking and running at the same time.” As in fairy tales, friends warn Kafka not to venture too far into the woods. The irony is that the darkness is not so much outside, but inside. It’s in our subconscious. What terrifies us is "the inner darkness of the soul…the correlation between darkness and our subconscious”. The woods, the forest are just a symbol of darkness, our own darkness. In Dreams Begin Responsibility While we’re awake, while we’re conscious, we think we’re rational, we’re in control, we can manage what happens around us. However, we fear dreams, because we can’t control and manage them. By extension, we’re also skeptical of the imagination, because it is more analogous to dreaming than thinking. Yet, we need our imagination almost as much as our logic. Murakami quotes Yeats: "In dreams begin responsibility.” It’s in this quandary that Kafka finds himself. It’s problematical enough for an adult, let alone a 15 year old who has lost contact with his mother and older sister at the age of four, and has now run away from his father: "You're afraid of imagination. And even more afraid of dreams. Afraid of the responsibility that begins in dreams. But you have to sleep, and dreams are a part of sleep. When you're awake you can suppress imagination. But you can't suppress dreams.” For the Time Being As would befit a Greek tragedy, Kafka’s father, a renowned sculptor, has prophesied: "Some day you will murder your father and be with your mother…and your sister.” This is the Oedipus myth, at once a curse and a challenge for Kafka: "You're standing right up to the real world and confronting it head-on.” We can only stand by and watch. What is happening? Does it really happen? Does it only happen in the labyrinth of Kafka’s imagination? Is the boy called Crow Kafka’s friend or his soul? (view spoiler)[Murakami mentions that "Kafka" is the Czech word for "crow", although apparently the Czech word "kavka" actually means "jackdaw". (hide spoiler)] Is the old man Nakata a real person or his alter ego? If Kafka can only prevail, he will become an adult. If nothing bad happens to him, he’ll emerge part of a brand new world. It’s not enough for Kafka to spend the time being. He must act. Reason to Act Of course, there is a cast of surreal cats, crows and characters who contribute to the colour and dynamic of the novel. One of my favourites is a Hegel-quoting whore (a philosophy student who might both feature in and read the novels of Bill Vollmann!), who counsels: "What you need to do is move from reason that observes to reason that acts." Although the protagonists of Murakami's novels are youthful, if not always adolescent, they are rarely in a state of stasis or arrested development. They're always endeavouring to come to terms with the past and embrace the future: "The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future." We observe them when their lives are most challenging and dynamic, in short, when they're trying to find and define themselves: "Every object's in flux. The earth, time, concepts, love, life, faith, justice, evil - they're all fluid and in transition. They don't stay in one form or in one place for ever." My photo of the artwork on a power box I pass every day on my walk. If I Run Away, Will My Imagination Run Away With Me, Too? Murakami’s ideas about imagination, dreams and responsibility are fleshed out in a scene that adverts to the Nazi Adolf Eichmann. The character Johnnie Walker (view spoiler)[who might be the negative side of Kafka’s father (hide spoiler)] kills cats, so that he can turn them into flutes. He challenges Nakata (view spoiler)[a stand-in for Kafka? (hide spoiler)] to kill him to save the cats. Nakata now has a moral dilemma as to whether to kill a person to save the lives of others (view spoiler)[albeit cats (hide spoiler)]. Eichmann was the builder rather than the architect behind the design of the Holocaust. He was an officious conformist who lived and worked routinely without imagination. Hannah Arendt would describe him and his capacity for evil in terms of its banality. Others would call him a “Schreibtischmörder” or “desk murderer”. In Murakami’s eyes, responsibility is part morality, but it also reflects an empathy with others, a transcendence of the self. Eichmann was too selfish and too conformist to empathise with the Jews he was trying to exterminate. A Catastrophe is Averted by Sheer Imagination After an accident in World War II, Nakata realised that he could talk to cats. Ultimately, he empathised with them enough to kill Johnnie Walker. In Shinto, cats might be important in their own right. However, Murakami frequently uses cats in his fiction. Perhaps they represent other people in society, people we mightn't normally associate with or talk to, (view spoiler)[In which case cats might symbolise the underdog? (hide spoiler)] but who watch over us and might perhaps be wiser than us, if only we would give them credit? Murakami also criticised two women bureaucrats who visited the library for their officious presumption and lack of imagination, albeit in a good cause. For Murakami, the imagination is vital to completing the self, bonding society and oiling the mechanisms by which it works, but it is also an arena within which the psychodrama of everyday life plays out and resolves. Inside the Storm So what can I tell you about Kafka’s fate? Only what Murakami tells us on page 3: "Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction, but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm...is you. Something inside of you. "So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in...There's no sun..., no moon, no direction, no sense of time…[in] that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm… "And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.” Unless you’re a total Murakami sceptic, when you close this book for the last time, you too won’t be the same person who walked in. http://www.deviantart.com/fanart/?vie... VERSE: Kafka in the Rye (Or Catcher on the Shore) Kafka sees a ghost, Swept Away I am swept away, Where There Are Dreams The earth moves slowly. Metaphysician, Heal Thyself You can heal yourself. The Burning of Miss Saeki's Manuscript Shape and form have gone. Look at the Painting, Listen to the Wind You did the right thing. SOUNDTRACK: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7iM2z... Prince - "Little Red Corvette" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDduq... Prince - "Sexy Motherfucker" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1d2Vb... R.E.M. - "I Don't Sleep, I Dream" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WReb... Cream - "Crossroads" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-6OW... Cream - "Crossroads" [Live] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8OLK_... Cream - "Crossroads" [Live at the Royal Albert Hall 2005] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pX6J5... The Beatles - "Hello Goodbye" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkH3P... Otis Redding - Sitting on the Dock of the Bay https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCmUh... Duke Ellington - "The Star-Crossed Lovers" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bg4MP... Johnny Hodges on Alto Sax John Coltrane - "My Favorite Things" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWG2d... Stan Getz - "Getz/Gilberto" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KpIV... Richard Rodgers & Oscar Hammerstein II - "Edelweiss" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYSw0... Frank Churchill & Larry Moery - "Heigh-Ho" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzjXR... Puccini - "Si, mi chiamano Mimi" from "La Boheme" [Marija Vidovic] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jDc0v... Mozart - "Serenade in D major, K. 320 "Posthorn" [Mackerras] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MS5YC... Haydn - Cello Concerto in C Major [Han-na Chang] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8uCT... Franz Schubert - "Piano Sonata in D major" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mh6ax... Beethoven - "Piano Trio No.7 in B Flat Major, Op.97" ["Archduke Trio"] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWPdl... Kashfi Fahim - "Life in Technicolor" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=go_Z1... A short film that features the sandstorm quote. (hide spoiler)] ...more
No wonder Kafka on the Shore was on the New York Times "10 Best Books of 2005" list. It's one of the most engaging and magical pieces of literature I've read. Reality is unclear. The book presses the boundaries of what exists around the characters versus what exists in their minds. Powerful forces guide the characters--some known, some unknown. Odd things happen within the context of everyday Japan. Mackarel
rains from the sky. A metaphysical overseer appears under the guise of Colonel Sanders; No wonder Kafka on the Shore was on the New York Times "10 Best Books of 2005" list. It's one of the most engaging and magical pieces of literature I've read. Reality is unclear. The book presses the boundaries of what exists around the characters versus what exists in their minds. Powerful forces guide the characters--some known, some unknown. Odd things happen
within the context of everyday Japan. Mackarel rains from the sky. A metaphysical overseer appears under the guise of Colonel Sanders; a villian under the guise of Johnny Walker. The forest contains ghosts. Everyday objects suddenly take on supernatural functions. Fifteen-year-old Kafka Tamura runs away from home and finds himself in Takamastu, where he discovers a charming, privately owned public library to spend his days until things get complicated. Turns out the events in his life--and
possibly even his body--is intralinked with a man named Nakata. When Nakata was a child during World War II, a mysterious force in a field put him and several other schoolchildren in a coma, but Nakata's mind was the only one erased entirely. As an adult, though mentally challenged, he has the ability to communicate with cats (along with several other larger-than-life talents). Surreal forces draw Nakata, all which relate to Kafka Tamura's world. The desk assistant at the library, who
immediately befriends Kafka, often references mythology--these references all end up being manifestations of the characters and the plot itself. Because of this, in many ways the book mirrors the spirit of Franz Kafta's works(how intentional these associations are by Murakami, I'm not sure). I was drawn to this book for the mood that it presented. It opened my imagination and set my spirit spinning with possibilities and ideas. It's rare to find a story with this effect. The prose, as
always by Murakami, grabs you from the get-go--it's charming, smooth, and intelligent without being pretentious. An amazing read.
The simplistic writing in "Kafka on the Shore" contrasts pretty sharply with the book's complicated themes. Perplexing & ultimately mind-bending, Murakami helps his reader out by using prose that's as unpretentious as
possible. He gives us clues as to how to get out of the labyrinth he's constructed in one piece by utilizing images & motifs, allegory and metaphor, constructing an entire world that seems to fit like a transparency over our own. There are different levels of the mind, and after re The simplistic writing in "Kafka on the Shore" contrasts pretty sharply with the book's complicated themes. Perplexing & ultimately mind-bending, Murakami helps
his reader out by using prose that's as unpretentious as possible. He gives us clues as to how to get out of the labyrinth he's constructed in one piece by utilizing images & motifs, allegory and metaphor, constructing an entire world that seems to fit like a transparency over our own. There are different levels of the mind, and after reading Murakami it becomes clear that there are different levels in literature as well: some novels are brave enough to explore the deep deep realms, &
with style to spare. But "Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" is better. While "Kafka" continues with those previous ideas established by that other novel (mainly psychic awareness, secret hidden dimensions, metaphysics) it does manage to leave many loose ends, & the picture is not wholly complete; it is, alas, not a fully-rounded account of prophecies fulfilled as internal desires become manifested. Fish and eels dropping from the sky, talking with felines, interacting with spirits: all these are
exciting elements to bring forth in a contemporary story. Murakami takes us to a place which seems new, possibly surprising even him. Perhaps he discovered what his novel was all about all too late to establish for his readership an elegant conclusion. Also: what REAL fifteen year-old listens to jazz? I was not entirely convinced that the main character was all that naive, nor all that special. Bottom line: Very interesting all the way through, but not truly, ultimately, magnificent.
This was my first ever Murakami read. The name in the start attracted my attention and later when I asked a few friends about giving me an opinion on this book, I was told to just have a go at it the first chance that I get. I read the summary of this book on good reads and I wasn't able to make it out if I should go with it or not. Meanwhile, I had a chance to visit NYC. And libraries and bookshops are
always my must go places whenever or wherever I get a chance. Well, I bought this book on my This was my first ever Murakami read. The name in the start attracted my attention and later when I asked a few friends about giving me an opinion on this book, I was told to just have a go at it the first chance that I get. I read the summary of this book on good reads and I wasn't able to make it out if I should go with it or not. Meanwhile, I had a chance
to visit NYC. And libraries and bookshops are always my must go places whenever or wherever I get a chance. Well, I bought this book on my visit to a bookshop. Even after coming back home, I had some hesitation towards reading it.
This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.
[Revised, pictures and shelves added 6/24/22] Although translated from the Japanese, this work pays homage to Western culture in its title and in its constant references to Greek mythology. Much of the plot is Oedipus. We also hear a lot about western music such as the Beatles, classic Hollywood films like Casablanca, and symbols of western consumerism such as Colonel Sanders and Johnny Walker. A motherless teenage boy kills his despotic father and runs away. Now maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. It [Revised, pictures and shelves added 6/24/22]Although translated from the Japanese, this work pays homage to Western culture in its title and in its constant references to Greek mythology. Much of the plot is Oedipus. We also hear a lot about western music such as the Beatles, classic Hollywood films like Casablanca, and symbols of western consumerism such as Colonel Sanders and Johnny Walker. A motherless teenage boy kills his despotic father and runs away. Now maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. It looks more like a “stand-in” for the boy – a mentally challenged older man who talks to animals - perhaps killed the father. The boy hides out in a library and at a remote rural cottage. The run-away boy acquires a new best friend who is transgendered. Meanwhile the boy may or may not have had sex with not only his mother, but his long-lost sister as well. The plot is propelled by magical realism. It rains fish, for example, so sometimes it’s hard to tell what is real and what is mythical. Prophecy, fate, predestination and reincarnation are the themes in this book that the New Yorker characterized as “an insistently metaphysical mind-bender.” A bit slow at times, but it kept my interest. Top photo from nbcnews.com
"Beyond the edge of the world there's a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop." Alternating chapters tell the stories of two, apparently unconnected, characters: Kafka (not THE Kafka) and Nakata. Its most fundamental theme is the paradoxical nature of edges and boundaries (literal, spiritual, ethical): that they can both separate
and connect. Alternating chapters tell the stories of two, apparently unconnected, characters: Kafka (not THE Kafka) and Nakata. Its most fundamental theme is the paradoxical nature of
edges and boundaries (literal, spiritual, ethical): that they can both separate and connect. Initially, contrasts dominate: young and old; first person and third; clever and not; running away and running towards; logical and instinctive. Slowly, similarities accumulate: seeking to recover what’s lost, and a shared nemesis. The nature of connections and separation is tantalisingly opaque. “I’m walking by the shores of consciousness.” Spotting the clues, weighing the significance, pondering the meaning… that’s the pleasure and challenge. There’s blood (literal, symbolic, and with transformative power), fire, Crow (and crows), memories, libraries, talking cats, a mystical forest, a supernatural stone, and the weight of fate and prophecy. Image: “Wrath 2” by Dejan Zdravkovic. It’s a raven, but ravens are a type of crow, and a burnt crow is relevant for this book. (Source) The title The title refers to the lyrics of a (fictional) song and a picture of it. Every line has a word that is a key part of the novel. This is far more subtle than the rather heavy-handed way the Oedipus myth is repeatedly referenced. You sit at the edge of the world, Quotes • “All I wanted was to go off to some other world, a place beyond anybody’s reach. A place beyond the flow of time.” • “A deserted library… all possible words and ideas are there, resting peacefully.” • "Most of the books have the smell of an earlier time leaking out from between their pages - a special odour of the knowledge and emotions that for ages have been calmly resting between the covers." • “Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.” • “I don’t register in her eyes… I’m not in her dream. She and I are in two separate worlds, divided by an invisible border.” Additional notes and quotes For more notes and quotes, and a more tangible description of characters and plots, as well as a section about Murakami's controversial portrayal of women, see my alternative “review”, on GR, HERE, which has spoilers. ...more
Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami leaves the reader with more questions unanswered than are easily and superficially wound up in a mainstream fiction. Using subtle fantasy, magic realism, repetition, interweaving symbols and
metaphors, the author has created a post-modern heir to Sophocles; and Murakami ties it all together as good as Jeff Lebowski’s rug. This is more finely tuned than Kafka’s absurdist comedy, and more well rounded. He references and alludes to Greek tragedy, Shakespeare, T Using subtle
fantasy, magic realism, repetition, interweaving symbols and metaphors, the author has created a post-modern heir to Sophocles; and Murakami ties it all together as good as Jeff Lebowski’s rug. This is more finely tuned than Kafka’s absurdist comedy, and more well rounded. He references and alludes to Greek tragedy, Shakespeare, T.S. Eliot, Western philosophy, Jungian synchronicity, and Eastern spiritualism. He also uses frank, earthy sexuality that is evocative of Norman Mailer or John
Barth. Murakami takes his easel deep into our subconscious psyche and paints a labyrinthine watercolor of the underside of our collective iceberg. One way that I know that a book is good, great even, is that I know I will think about it after I have finished, and I have a firm belief that this book will come back to me, will stay with me, for some time. This is a psychological quest, a spiritual journey – a profound and meaningful fantasy, distinct from the work of authors such as
Neil Gaiman and China Mieville by his affinity for magic realism, his close but surreal connection to the modern. This magnificent work is a document from the borderlands between this world and another.
"As I gaze at the vacant, birdless scene outside, I suddenly want to read a book - any book. As long as it's shaped like a book and has printing, it's fine by me. I just want to hold a
book in my hands, turn the pages, scan the words with my eyes." The book starts and ends with a fifteen year old boy. A few other important characters will be introduced to you. They have their own chapters. These chapters alternate one another. But I will say that even if the story seems haphazard, it all came in a pretty good sequence. Until more than half of the book, you will be a bit lost as to how are all these characters connected in the plot as they seem so
completely seem to be living in their own different worlds. I would say there are some disturbing moments described in details. Disturbing. Yes. So I won't describe them here again. The book ended well and good. But you will still feel like you haven't grasp the whole concept of what happened in the entire story. Yes,
Murakami's books make you feel like that. But what makes his books special is the way the writing makes you see the hidden dark parts of what we are capable of thinking, how imagination can go deeper and higher at the same time. Yes, I know you will find the characters disgusting and somehow as some kind of psychos for sure but yes, they do make you see the darkest corners of your mind. Most of the time his words will spark your static brain, then makes you want to huddle in a room alone making
you want to protect yourself from such broken characters, then makes you feel the warmth of having someone random who becomes close to you out of nowhere. He makes me see what really matters. He makes me see the actual magical realism is the illusion and the false fears/limitations we have for ourselves. Even though I still will be living with the same fears and illusion I have made up for myself and as how everything made me see the reality, his books make me see the difference. And that's how
Murakami makes me live differently with his books. *2020 most memorable reads
Buckle up to experience extremely confusing, mind numbing, vivid, compelling, controversial, wild ride! Don’t let simple, plain writing style fool you! Get ready for the bombardment of
whirlwind journey between different genres including fantasy, magical realism, fiction and get drown in the sea of allegories, metaphors, vibes of The book needs to be read more than twice! If you deeply get con Don’t let
simple, plain writing style fool you! Get ready for the bombardment of whirlwind journey between different genres including fantasy, magical realism, fiction and get drown in the sea of allegories, metaphors, vibes of The book needs to be read more than twice! If you deeply get connected with the characters and visualize yourself in their places, you feel like you’re teleported to
Terry Gilliam movies’ surrealistic worlds and after a few rides later you find yourself dark humorous, complex Cohen Brothers’ rug, flying with Big Lebowski, waving to the people, questioning yourself which part of is a dream and which part is pure reality! I enjoyed this ultra complex, brain cell frier journey even though I have more questions than appropriate answers! My favorite quotes of the novel are: “Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you
apart.” “And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.” “It's like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory,unhappiness a story.” “Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we
can never get back again. That’s part of what it means to be alive.” “In everybody’s life there’s a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can’t go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive.” “Even chance meetings are the result of karma… Things in life are fated by our previous lives. That even in the smallest events there’s no such thing as coincidence.”
Really? This is how it starts: Someone said this to my friend, and she read the book, and she thought, “eh.” But there were more people out there. They love this book! This book is the book that will change
everything! If they were to build a time machine and travel back in time with several copies of this book, and if they we This is how it starts: Someone said this to my friend, and she read the book, and she thought, “eh.” But there were more
people out there. They love this book! This book is the book that will change everything! If they were to build a time machine and travel back in time with several copies of this book, and if they were to give copies of this book to Abraham, Sarah, Hagar, Isaac, and Ishmael then there would be absolutely no problems in the Middle East. There would be no homeless. Unicorns would run free through fields of grass. We’d all have universal health care. “A friend of mine gave me this book. Matt really likes this book. Joe really likes this book. I thought it was ‘eh’. But maybe you’ll like it.” She said as she handed me the book. So I read it. And I’m inclined to agree with the woman who gave it to me. It’s “eh”. Kafka is a young kid looking for something that’s been missing in his life. It maybe his mother, but that’s really just a metaphor. Then there’s this simpleton old man who can talk to cats. Then there’s this secret world in the mountains. Then there’s a magical stone. Then Godzilla, then a comet hits Mars and we all grow a third arm. I felt as if the story spiraled out of control, maybe. I think part of the problem is that Karuki Murakami doesn’t write in English, and I can’t read Japanese, and while I’m sure Philip Gabriel is a perfectly nice man, and can translate Japanese into English perfectly well, I still felt like there was something lost in the translation while reading the book. So, IF I were to suggest you read this book, I would first suggest you learn to read Japanese, then maybe spend some years in Japan. Then read the book. Then write me and tell me what you thought of it. Cause for me- it’s a little too metaphor-y, and at the end of the book, all I could think was, “Really?” ...more
I kept hoping it gets better. It took me so long to read and made me watch tv shows instead of reading.. call me shallow or whatever you want but this book is trying to be philosophical and deep too hard. Too much details, too many things were mentioned and didn’t affect the plot (uhm wait what plot) in any way. We still didn’t get any explanation on some bizarre events/characters. A few events were just too disturbing and not in a good way. I honestly wanted to give it 2 stars but then realized I kept hoping it gets better. It took me so long to read and made me watch tv shows instead of reading.. call me shallow or whatever you want but this book is trying to be philosophical and deep too hard. Too much details, too many things were mentioned and didn’t affect the plot (uhm wait what plot) in any way. We still didn’t get any explanation on some bizarre events/characters. A few events were just too disturbing and not in a good way. I honestly wanted to give it 2 stars but then realized there’s nothing that affected me in Kafka on the shore -which was the whole point of this boring book. I very much struggled to finish it. I guess people who like this genre might enjoy it more. So really, it depends on one’s preference (obviously). Since I liked 1Q84, this wont be my last Murakami but I doubt I’ll be reading another anytime soon. ...more
This - along with
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Norwegian Wood,
Sputnik Sweetheart and The Rat tetralogy (A Wild Sheep Chase, etc) - was one of my favorite Murakami books. Absurd, funny, and still a bit nostalgic
and morose, it is a unique and powerful read including raining fish. For those discovering Murakami, I would read it fourth after the three I already mentioned.
So, yeah, I don't really understand this book. It is not often that I admit a book has defeated me intellectually; upon the rare occasion that it happens, however, I will admit it. This review is, like any review, a meditation on the unique experience I had reading the book, but it is also ruminations about why I feel that Kafka on the Shore is a mountain whose summit I never reached. I'm
starting to suspect that I have a penchant for magic realism. On one hand, the term smacks of genre-snobbery, It is not often that I admit a book has defeated me intellectually; upon the rare occasion that it happens, however, I will admit it. This review is, like any review, a meditation on the unique experience I had reading the book, but it is also ruminations about why I feel that Kafka on
the Shore is a mountain whose summit I never reached. I'm starting to suspect that I have a penchant for magic realism. On one hand, the term smacks of genre-snobbery, a label that authors or critics use to avoid consigning a book to the ghettoized fantasy section of the bookstore. On the other hand, the term is seductive. It represents a flirtation with the fantastic that, when done well, forces the mind to reconcile contradictory realities. Think
The Enchantress of Florence or The City & The City. Fantasy is the outright alteration of the laws of physics; magic realism is the collision of physics with the other, as well as the appropriation of the laws of narrative for the characters' own purposes. Kafka on the
Shore exemplifies the headache-inducing experience of a well-executed piece of magic realism. It seems, unfortunately, that this was a little too much for my poor mind to handle. Wired as it is to unravel fact and fiction, my mind constantly tugs me toward the question of, "How much of what happens in the book is meant to be considered 'real events' and how much is a delusion or metaphor?" But I don't think that question is correct—or at least, the way it is formulated seems to imply a
separation of the real from the metaphorical is possible. Maybe it is not; therein lies the headache. Example time. Late in the book, Kafka has a dream that might not be a dream in which he has sex with Sakura, a young woman who might or might not be his long-lost (adopted) sister. Kafka's search for his mother and sister, who left home when he was a child, is a major part of the book, one that deserves heavy discussion itself. This particular scene troubled me. It was more confusing than
disturbing. While clearly starting as a dream, the language sometimes made it sound like it was a dream dialogue—Kafka and Sakura were sharing a dream, in which they had sex. I think it's possible to interpret it either way—nothing later in the book seems to contradict either interpretation. What I cannot place is the metaphorical significance of this scene, though I am certain one exists. Central to the problem is the so-called "Oedipal prophecy" handed to Kafka by his estranged (or
merely strange?) father, who may or may not be a cat-murdering flute-carver posing as a conceptual imitation of Johnnie Walker. When he leaves home, one of Kafka's objectives is to find his mother and sister, though he has no information about them, no names, just a photograph of the family at the beach. Now, Kafka is fifteen years old and makes it clear that his hormones are right on track for a boy his age. So when he starts entertaining sexual fantasies of Sakura, who is about the right age
to be his sister, he has to wonder if she is his sister. Receiving an actual hand-job from Sakura later in the book does not simplify matters. Still, there are mitigating factors: despite his fantasies, we don't actually have confirmation that Kafka ever has intercourse with Sakura. And even if she is his sister, she was adopted, so the incest taboo's squick-factor is lessened. No such comforts exist for Kafka's relationship with Miss. Saeki. Like Sakura, we never find out if Miss.
Saeki truly is Kafka's mother (I would argue that the implication for the affirmative is stronger here than in Sakura's case, but I think Murakami deliberately left it ambiguous). Unlike Sakura, Kafka does have sex with Miss. Saeki—first in a dream-like but real episode which Miss. Saeki does not remember, then subsequently in a deliberate episode that they both, at least at first, regret. Although Kafka dreads his father's prophecy, and although his operating theory is that Miss. Saeki is his
mother, he still decides to sleep with her. I don't know; thanks to John Irving (particularly A Widow for One Year), the whole motif of older women having sex with younger men disturbs me. By motif I mean that the actual idea of such of a relationship does not disturb me, but the use of it in literature, particularly
as a device for ending a character's innocence, does disturb me. Kafka seems very nonchalant about his relationship with Miss. Saeki—not exactly resigned, but not reticent either. This analytical, calm aspect extends to his personality in general: aside from some notable exceptions, such as when he wakes up with blood on his shirt, Kafka is a mellow individual. He does not rage. He just accepts and thinks. It is fine for a character but odd for a fifteen-year-old boy, and it makes Kafka feel a
bit less real. (There I go using those loaded terms again.) Oh, and there is a whole other side to this book that I have yet to mention: Sakuro Nakata. I have to confess that I preferred much of Nakata's story over Kafka's (with the exception of the Johnnie Walker chapter). Nakata and Kafka both have a similar acceptance of events as they happen, but Nakata seems to have more will than Kafka, who spends most of his time moping around the library and listening to a record. Nakata takes up a
traditional-style quest, leaves the only home he has ever known, falls in with a companion (some might say disciple) and experiences change. Conversely, Kafka strikes off on his own immediately, but he shies away—leaving the forest—from any final fate. Nakata gains peace; Kafka matures. Nakata's encounter with Johnnie Walker causes me as many headaches as Kafka's dream about Sakura. Are we supposed to equate Johnnie Walker with Kafka's father? I don't know. Johnnie Walker and Colonel
Sanders seem like two sides of the same coin, a self-identified concept that can assume forms but not manifest in any physical way. If that is the case, then Nakata could not possibly have killed Johnnie Walker—but perhaps Johnnie Walker is a concept connected somehow to Kafka's father, and killing the concept killed the man. See? Metaphysical dilemmas for which Murakami has no answers. Not that I'm demanding answers. Books that seek to provide an answer to every little question end
up laden with excess exposition. Moreover, Kafka on the Shore is not a straightforward narrative, and that is probably for the best. Murakami has taken a standard literary fiction plot, that of the adolescent runaway, but instead of exploring it on the standard plane, he takes it into higher dimensions. Still, there are some questions that really irk me. Exactly what does the "Crow" character represent? Part boy, part bird, all a figment of Kafka's imagination . . . there's probably an
essay somewhere in here about "representations of anthropomorphic animals in Kafka on the Shore," if someone has not written one already . . . but I digress. No, the reason I feel somewhat defeated is because I can't seem to settle on any consistent set of interpretations to the symbols Murakami has left in his wake. It is frustrating, because I can recognize the intensity of Kafka on the Shore, but I cannot celebrate it. The metaphors add depth to the story, yet my inability
to parse them prevents them from turning the narrative into a coherent whole. In short, I read the book, but I did not really get the book. Nor is it that there is, in fact, nothing to get; Kafka on the Shore is not a con (well, no more than any fiction book is). I get just enough to glimpse enlightenment and know it exists, but I can't quite achieve it. One day I hope I will find more in this book than the first time. I often find that, with difficult books, sometimes
multiple readings are the only thing one needs—that and the time to grow, to change, to be a different person from the one who read the book the first time. Future Ben may see the subtleties of Kafka on the Shore with greater clarity than this version of me, and he might life at my incomprehension (or, hopefully, not). So I cannot leave you with my impression of this book's literary merit (what does that even mean?). However, as the parenthetical question in my previous sentence
indicates, I can say that, if it did not provide me with many answers, Kafka on the Shore did provoke me into asking more questions. This is not a book that fits into a comfortable niche, either for the purposes of comprehension or for criticism. We need books like that, even if we don't entirely know what to make of them.
You’ll need to suspend belief when you read this novel. It’ll also help if you don’t look too closely at the plot nuances surrounding some of the wackier characters you’ll meet along the way. But do this
and I’d hope, like me, that you’ll be swept along on an extraordinary journey. First and foremost it’s an enthralling story with compelling lead players (Nakata being my personal favourite) but it also reveals some interesting ideas and insights and asks the reader some challenging questions. It You’ll need to suspend belief when you read this novel. It’ll also help if you don’t look too closely at the plot nuances surrounding some of the wackier
characters you’ll meet along the way. But do this and I’d hope, like me, that you’ll be swept along on an extraordinary journey. First and foremost it’s an enthralling story with compelling lead players (Nakata being my personal favourite) but it also reveals some interesting ideas and insights and asks the reader some challenging questions. It’s entertaining and it’s thought provoking, what else can you ask for? Murakami’s work is frequently surreal and this novel is no exception. In common
with some of his other books, there are two stories here told in alternating chapters. These eventually interlink to bring some clarity (but not total clarity) to the broader tale. There are components I’ve seen before from Murakami: references to whiskey, the detailed preparation of meals, cats, jazz, classical music, Kafka (though not in such an overt way as you might imagine), a search for something, death, parallel worlds and the inner self. It strikes me that the author is like a chef who
is constantly using favourite ingredients to make a variety of meals; each meal has echoes of the others but the overall taste, the aggregate experience, is different. I’ve sometimes used Jay Rubin’s book, Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words, as a point of reference in reading Murakami’s fiction and it does help to draw out some of the messages I might have missed or perhaps highlight sections I’ve misinterpreted. Rubin is a long time translator of the author’s work (though not
this book). Of course, this isn't a prerequisite to ensure enjoyment of the authors text, but it does help dimwits like me. It’s been suggested that this novel is a spiritual sequel to Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. Well, it might be... there are certainly similarities in the way the book is structured and in some of the themes contained in the narrative. Either way, I loved this book and would highly recommend it to seasoned Murakami aficionados or first time visitors
to his mysterious and wonderful world - it's as good a place to start as anywhere.
This is my first Murakami, and I already know that it won't be my last. This is one of the strangest books I've read. It stretches the boundaries of belief, and when it breaks through into the realm of pure magic, we discover the
journey has only begun. The story is told from two different perspectives. In the first, Kafka Tamura is a fifteen-year-old boy who runs away from home to escape a terrifying prophecy that he will kill his father and sleep with both his mother and sister. Eventually, he This is one of the strangest books I've read. It stretches the boundaries of belief, and when it
breaks through into the realm of pure magic, we discover the journey has only begun. The story is told from two different perspectives. In the first, Kafka Tamura is a fifteen-year-old boy who runs away from home to escape a terrifying prophecy that he will kill his father and sleep with both his mother and sister. Eventually, he ends up at a library and gets tangled up in a complex web of lost love, fate on loop, and ghosts. The second relates the story of Nakata, a mentally simple old
man who gained the ability to talk to cats after an incident in his childhood. Following a fateful encounter, he too journeys across Japan, picking up along the way a young truck driver as a companion. As someone who's never taken philosophy beyond what was required of my Government major, I suspect that much of this book was way over my head. But keeping that in mind, I couldn't stop reading this book unless it was absolutely necessary (namely to sleep, eat, and work) and when I wasn't
reading it, I kept thinking about it. This is not a straightforward book. Much of the novel reads like a patchwork of unrelated scenes and conversations. Some scenes are brutal, some are mundane, and others are achingly lovely. The narrative never loses its dream-like feel, and sometimes it seems like you're walking straight into a nightmare. But within the gentle chaos of the narrative runs a common thread that loosely ties everything together by the end. It's kind of like going to a
therapist and revealing your deepest, darkest, most confused thoughts: the images and thoughts you relate are seemingly random and unrelated, but they are exceedingly personal and are somehow are still a grand part of one somewhat unified, coherent thing within you with all its problems and complexities. I thought a lot about the story, and constantly tried to make connections between events. I read much of this novel on a lawn chair, lazing in the sun, with the sound of the wind
in my ears, or at night, with the window wide open and the cool silence wrapping me in a cocoon. The quiet inactivity of both the world around me was the ideal way for me to really get into the story. Though some might disagree, I think the uncertainty makes up a part of the fun of reading a book like this--being driven by curiosity to piece the puzzle together and the satisfaction of resolving a part of a somewhat vague image. Some might find the process tedious, but I never felt bored once
while reading. Because despite the unassuming, dreamy narrative, Murakami's words pack psychological punches that hit you when you least expected it and throw your emotions into a flux more than once. Overall, I would highly recommend this novel. I know this won't be everyone's cup of tea, but even so, I would still recommend that people give this book a try. The book is weird. Really weird. But it's a powerful story that will, at the very least, challenge one to think about this
very strange, very familiar world. 5 STARS AND HIGHLY RECOMMENDED
“Not just beautiful, though--the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me.” Wow! Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore took me on an incredible journey! Again! Kafka Tamura, the 15-year old runaway, looking for his place in the world, is a great character. So many great characters and interesting, bizarre situations. I also really liked how Hoshino, the truck driver who helps Nakata on his quest, evolve. Bumping this one up! Original review: Wow! Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore took me on an incredible journey! Again! Kafka Tamura, the 15-year old runaway, looking for his place in the world, is a great character. So many great characters and interesting, bizarre situations. I also really liked how Hoshino, the truck driver who helps Nakata on his quest, evolve. Bumping this one up! Original review: For me, this doesn’t quite match 1Q84 or The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, but it is distinctly Murakami and I enjoyed it! 4.5 stars. ...more
Murakami has become a firm favourite of mine for his wonderful blend of the metaphysical and magical realism with ordinary life and people.Truly remarkable. Haruki Murakami is a rare author.
Murakami is a master of conjuring up chance encounters; he is a master of making the mundane seem magical,
mystical and alluring. And that is his greatest strength as a writer; he uses it to lure you in and to tell you an extraordinary story that makes life seem just that little bit more interesting. He creates possibility out of the most basic human connections and conversations. He shows us the randomness of life that give it colour, flavour and excitement. There’s possibility everywhere. I am And that is his greatest strength as a writer; he uses it to lure you in and to tell you an extraordinary story that makes life seem just that little bit more interesting. He creates possibility out of the most basic human connections and conversations. He shows us the randomness of life that give it colour, flavour and excitement. There’s possibility everywhere. I am not going to talk about the plot
because it is not what makes this story so special. The characters are not all that interesting either. For me, it is all about the magical realist lens in which Murakami writes. It makes the ordinary seem extraordinary. And he can do it exceptionally well. In fact, I would go as far as to say I do not know of any other writer who does it quite as well. There is just something about his books. They have a certain unique characteristic that make them distinctively his own, I cannot quite put my
finger to it. And they are always totally profound. “Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That’s part of what it means to be alive.” This quote sums up so much of the main motif of this book and perhaps even life itself. We’re all struggling. We’re all trying to make our way. And this is captured beautifully here. I must say, I've struggled greatly with Murakami as of
late. His recent books Killing Commendatore and Men Without Women have been quite basic. Here, though, the author is the height of his powers. He is totally in control of his craft and it's amongst his finest of works. And it actually makes me want to go back and read the rest of his works
because I now remember just how fantastic he can be. So more Murkami for me in the future. __________________________________ You can connect with me on social media via My Linktree.
How does he do this?? Haruki Murakami. He writes these crazy freaking weird-ass stories that are so bizarre and out there and yet they are so, so, sooooo good. It's insane. Where does he get his ideas from and how does he make the outlandish seem not just possible, but normal? That's the weirdest thing -- as weird as they are, the stories sound legit. 100% realistic. As
my friend Hanneke said, "You just let the story wash over you and not wonder whether the 'possibilities'... are magical or not. It's insane. Where does he get his ideas from and how does he make the outlandish seem not just possible, but normal? That's the
weirdest thing -- as weird as they are, the stories sound legit. 100% realistic. As my friend Hanneke said, "You just let the story wash over you and not wonder whether the 'possibilities'... are magical or not. " You're sitting there reading and some old dude starts having a conversation with a cat - a literal, two-sided conversation - and instead of going, "Whoa, wait a minute, this can't happen!", your brain just accepts that it can and it does and it is. It just fits so
well into the story that it's not at all crazy for some old dude to have a literal conversation with a cat. And then it starts raining sardines and mackerels and leeches. Shiny, scaly fish and slithery slimy leeches pour from the sky and no one bats an eye! Then in walks the teenage ghost of a fifty-year old woman who's still alive and same thing. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. All of this and more happens in Kafka on the Shore. It tells the story of a young
kid who runs away from home to escape a curse his father put upon him. The characters make this book. There is young Kafka and there is the old man who converses with cats, and then of course the cats themselves. There are the librarians, one of whom has the ghost of her younger self wandering through the book. There is the truck driver who decides to help Old-Man-Who-Talks-With-Cats and who is every bit as interesting as the other characters even though he's perhaps the most
normal. There is Colonel Sanders, yep, the guy from KFC. He pimps philosophy-majoring prostitutes. There are soldiers who never age. There are a whole host of weird and eccentric and unbelievable - yet 100% believable - characters. This is my fifth Haruki Murakami book and it is my favourite so far. It is fantastical and philosophical and fun. I won't go into the plot... it's as weird as the characters. But damn! What a book! If you're a fan of Murakami, you do not want to miss
this one. And if you've never read him before, I think this is the one to start with. (Ironically, I've said that with each of his books I've read.) Just pick one and read it. Any one.
One could complain that the prose is often clichéd and inelegant, or that the dialogue is awkward and unrealistic, or that the frequent, non sequitur references to sex are unnecessary and cringe-inducing (please, let’s avoid the repeated use of the phrase, “my rock-hard cock”), yet somehow all of these things lend a certain innocent charm to Murakami’s writing. Kafka on the Shore is a bizarre, constantly unpredictable novel about searching for identity and for connection, about losing and findi One could complain that the prose is often clichéd and inelegant, or that the dialogue is awkward and unrealistic, or that the frequent, non sequitur references to sex are unnecessary and cringe-inducing (please, let’s avoid the repeated use of the phrase, “my rock-hard cock”), yet somehow all of these things lend a certain innocent charm to Murakami’s writing. Kafka on the Shore is a bizarre, constantly unpredictable novel about searching for identity and for connection, about losing and finding oneself, and about the ways in which others help us to discover who we are, for better or for worse. These themes are explored with extreme creativity and imagination, and freedom from the constraints of realism and explanation, and this allows the reader to freely associate and form similarly unbounded connections between the narrative elements . The overall impression is more of a poem than a novel: its meaning is loose and wide open to interpretation. The brilliance of the novel is in Murakami’s ability to incorporate such weighty ideas into an accessible package, and to make this strange and abstract piece of surrealist fiction such a page-turner. ...more Murakami Haruki (Japanese: 村上 春樹) is a popular contemporary
Japanese writer and translator. His work has been described as 'easily accessible, yet profoundly complex'. He can be located on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/harukimuraka... Since childhood, Murakami has been heavily influenced by Western culture, particularly Western music and literature. He grew up reading a range of works by Am Since
childhood, Murakami has been heavily influenced by Western culture, particularly Western music and literature. He grew up reading a range of works by American writers, such as Kurt Vonnegut and Richard Brautigan, and he is often distinguished from other Japanese writers by his Western influences. Murakami studied drama at Waseda University in Tokyo, where he met his wife, Yoko. His first job was at a record store, which is where one of his main characters, Toru Watanabe in Norwegian
Wood, works. Shortly before finishing his studies, Murakami opened the coffeehouse 'Peter Cat' which was a jazz bar in the evening in Kokubunji, Tokyo with his wife. Many of his novels have themes and titles that invoke classical music, such as the three books making up The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle: The Thieving Magpie (after Rossini's opera), Bird as Prophet (after a piano piece by Robert Schumann usually known in English as The Prophet Bird), and
The Bird-Catcher (a character in Mozart's opera The Magic Flute). Some of his novels take their titles from songs: Dance, Dance, Dance (after The Dells' song, although it is widely thought it was titled after the Beach Boys tune), Norwegian Wood (after The Beatles' song) and South of the Border, West of the Sun (the first part being the title of a song by Nat King Cole). Articles featuring this bookClear some space on your bookshelves, readers. Another packed season of irresistible books is just around the corner! To help you find your... “Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.” — 16188 likes “And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.” — 9529 likes More quotes…Welcome back. Just a moment while we sign you in to your Goodreads account. |
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