Tag: writing

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage is the thirteenth novel by author Haruki Murakami, first published in Japanese in 2013 and in English only a year later in 2014. It was released three years after IQ84, Murakami’s longest ever novel yet, with more than 900 pages total. The book was released in English by Philip Gabriel, another one of Murakami’s frequent translators.

Unlike the majority of Murakami’s works (including both long and short-form novels alike), Tsukuru Tazaki dials down on the surrealism and mystique that has often characterized Murakami’s writing, choosing instead to focus on a simpler narrative. The story follows the perspective of the titular Tazaki, a 36-year-old railway engineer who has been constantly plagued wondering why his group of high school friends cut all ties with him sixteen years ago. Now a grown man, he is convinced by his girlfriend Sara to seek the truth, and so he decides to go on a quest to mend his relationships with his former friends and get to the bottom of the mystery.

Although this novel is well-written overall, and I can definitely understand why Murakami would choose to write something this simple (especially given that he’s finished an absolutely massive plot-layered story years earlier), for a novel that took three years to write, it’s rather underwhelming. I was excited to see a Murakami protagonist who actually wasn’t a loner (or at least wasn’t formerly a loner), but compared to his other main characters, Tazaki falls rather flat, though only in comparison. Moreover, despite Murakami being a brilliant writer, I felt that much of the writing in this novel was rather shallow, and it was even more disappointing that he chose to leave most of this story’s mysteries unresolved and ambiguous, which is strange considering the great lengths Tazaki goes through in his attempt to solve them.

In conclusion, Tsukuru Tazaki isn’t a bad novel by any means, and if you’ve never read Murakami before, you may enjoy it, but compared to his best works (and even his other novels in this category) it is noticeably weaker in both style and presentation. Ultimately, whether you choose to read it or not is up to you.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (Nejimakitori Kuronikuru) is the eight novel by author Haruki Murakami, first published in Japanese in between the years 1994-1995, and was later released English by long-time Murakami translator Jay Rubin in 1997. The original Japanese edition was released in three parts, while the English language edition (and the most common one today) is a single volume of over 600 pages, making it one of Murakami’s longest yet.

While a few chapters from the novel were published in The New Yorker and a slightly altered version of the first chapter was featured in the short story collection The Elephant Vanishes (not to mention the novel’s protagonist, Noboru Wataya, appears in another short story in this collection), this novel is the where all these characters and story beats are placed together to create something more coherent.

Because of this novel’s (very) large page count, you’d likely assume that it’s rather dramatic and intense, plot and content wise – and it is, but not in the way you’d expect. Beginning with the protagonist (Noboru Wataya) being tasked by his wife to find their missing cat, the plot is suddenly turned upside-down as Noboru discovers one morning that his wife has mysteriously vanished, and the rest follows him as he uncovers the mysteries and intricacies of her disappearance, all the while encountering eccentric allies and antagonists.  Although, yes, the novel does have its moments of melodrama and theatrics, Murakami takes a more subtle and nuanced approach to the situations faced by Noboru, with several scenes focusing on his loneliness and introspection, in classic Murakami style.

When it comes down to it, despite how intimidating its length and size appear, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is one of Murakami’s best, and will definitely stick with you a long time after you read it.

After Dark is the eleventh novel by Haruki Murakami, first published in Japanese in 2004 and later in English in 2007, released 2 years after Kafka on the Shore, one of his longest novels. It was released in English by frequent Murakami translator Jay Rubin.

In contrast to his Murakami’s previous novel Kafka on the Shore and most of his other works, After Dark is quite short, with only 201 pages, and in an interesting deviation, the entire story from start to finish takes place over the course of one night, starting at 11:56 PM and ending at 6:52 AM. This concept, especially when compared to his other novels which can often take place over the course of years and even have decades of backstory, is unique for a Murakami book, while the themes and general tone are similar to his other works: several parts take place between reality and dreams and there’s hints of surrealism throughout.

I was worried that, for the absurdly long length most of his novels are, that the short timespan of After Dark would be messy, but thankfully this one handles it well – It has just enough story to keep you invested but not so much that you start to believe this can’t all happen over the course of a night. If you aren’t a fan of doorstoppers, I recommend this one, and if this is your first time reading a shorter Murakami novel, as long as you don’t expect anything too dramatic, you’ll surely enjoy it.

Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman is the fourth collection of short stories by renowned author Haruki Murakami. First released (surprisingly) in English in 2006 (4 years after the release of his previous collection After the Quake), it later received a Japanese edition in 2009. For the most part, the short stories are split evenly  between two translators: Philip Gabriel and frequent Murakami translator Jay Rubin.

Running at a generous 362 pages, this novel is Murakami’s biggest and most impressive collection yet, containing 24 stories spanning from the years 1980 to 2005, which were originally published in literary magazines and periodicals such as Harper’s, Granta, McSweeney’s, and The New Yorker; several of which allude to or are incorporated into his later long-form novels.

Although he has currently published 5 short story collections as of 2019 – his latest one, Men Without Women, was published in English in 2017 – this book is, in my opinion, one of the best examples of Murakami’s incredible and broad range. Filling the pages are stories of love, loss, dreams, alternate realities, and sometimes absurdity – everything is top-notch here and really demonstrates his writing capability and talent. A reason for this may be because Blind Willow, unlike his other collections, doesn’t focus on one particular theme (i.e Men Without Women is mainly about men who have ‘lost’ women) and thus the full extent of his range is able to shine through.

Despite the length of this one, it is a great introduction to the master and his storytelling; if you are someone who prefers reading short stories over feature-length novels, I highly recommend it.

Dance Dance Dance is the sixth novel by acclaimed Japanese author Haruki Murakami, which was first published in 1988, a year after the release of Norweigan Wood. After the release of Norwegian Wood, which catapulted him to both national and worldwide fame, Murakami was initially not able to cope with the sudden pressures of being a celebrity, and much of the production of this novel involved him releasing his stress and anxiety,  thus making it a ‘healing experience’ for him. It was translated six years later in 1994 by previously-mentioned Alfred Birnbaum, whose translation is still considered the preferable one and the one I read.

This particular novel started several major themes that would later become hallmarks of a Murakami novel: surrealism, loss, sexuality, abandonment, and making human connections. The protagonist of the story, more or less a stand-in for Murakami himself, is at the beginning of the story alone and isolated, but later meets a cast of eccentric and colorful characters, each with their own unique backstory and ties to the main character; this is also a staple of many later Murakami novels such as Kafka by the Shore and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles.

One somewhat confusing aspect of the novel is its relation to Murakami’s “Trilogy of the Rat”, a series of three books (Hear the Wind Sing, Pinball, and A Wild Sheep Chase) that focus on an unnamed narrator and his friend known only as “the Rat”. Although this novel is a sequel to the trilogy and shares some similarities to it, whether or not it is considered an actual part of the series is debatable.

Overall, despite the debate over whether or not it’s part of the “Rat Trilogy”, Dance Dance Dance can still be read and enjoyed for the most part, even if the more surreal trappings are a bit confusing to follow if you aren’t familiar with Murakami’s surrealist fiction works. It is 393 pages long, slightly over the length of Norwegian Wood, but as more events and story beats occur in this novel, it will likely feel shorter. Recommended for surrealism fans or those who feel isolated at the moment.