“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 awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.”
Title: Kafka on the Shore
Author: Haruki Murakami
Rating: 5/5 Stars
Link to book: Kafka on the Shore
Norwegian Wood, arguably Murakami’s most famous work, was my first Murakami book. Although Norwegian Wood was his only novel without surrealism, it gave me a good introduction into what to expect for Murakami. Even without surrealism, Norwegian Wood was mind-bending enough. Embarking on a Murakami book is always such an experience. You have to be mentally prepared for it, open your mind and allow yourself to just trust and be immersed in his world. It is never a light-hearted read, and it almost always throws you in a direction you’d never seen coming.
Kafka on the Shore is my favourite book of Murakami because firstly, I like this narrative of this young boy on a self-discovery journey with his identity and destiny. Secondly, it is a lot easier to read and follow than most of his books. And relatively shorter too.
The story unfolds in two parallel narratives, each following a distinctive protagonist. Kafka Tamura, a fifteen-year-old runaway with a mysterious past, takes center stage. His journey is juxtaposed with that of Nakata, an elderly man with a peculiar ability to communicate with cats and other supernatural forces. As the two characters navigate their separate paths, the novel gradually reveals the intricate connections that bind them.
Murakami’s writing is a poetic dance between reality and fantasy. The narrative seamlessly weaves together dreamlike sequences with mundane details, creating an atmosphere that is both haunting and beautiful. The author’s ability to evoke a sense of surrealism within the mundane is reminiscent of Franz Kafka’s own works, from which the novel draws inspiration.
The characters in Kafka on the Shore are richly developed, each harboring their own secrets and complexities. Kafka’s internal struggle with identity and destiny is palpable, while Nakata’s simple yet profound worldview adds an extra layer of depth to the narrative. Murakami masterfully explores themes of loneliness, love, and the search for meaning, inviting readers to reflect on their own existence.
Kafka on the Shore is a mosaic of magical realism, mythology, and psychological exploration. As with many of Murakami’s works, the novel leaves certain questions unanswered, encouraging readers to draw their own conclusions and find meaning in the ambiguity. Compared to this other works, this one definitely ties up a bit better than many of his other ones that leave readers completely in the dark.
Finally, I would like to end this review with my favourite Murakami passage. It’s a long one but it’s worth it, and if this doesn’t convince you, maybe nothing will.
“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.”