“These past ten days there’s been a lot of weird stuff going on. Leeches falling from the sky, Colonel Sanders popping up out of thin air, hot sex with this drop-dead-gorgeous philosophy major, swiping the entrance stone from that shrine . . . A lifetime of weird stuff.”
And that’s not even the half of it. Add to that line up of weird stuff: Kafka, the world’s toughest 15 year old who is running away from, or towards, a dark prophecy; Nakata, who can speak with cats but not read or write after a mysterious encounter with something that left him in a coma; talking cats; two WWII soldiers stuck in a world half way between this and the next; Johnny Walker collecting the souls of cats; mackerels and sardines falling from the sky; a hermaphroditic, haemophiliac librarian; and Miss Saeki, also stuck between worlds, seeking her other half.
It is, as one of the characters puts it, “like an Indiana Jones movie, or something”.
I finished Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore yesterday. I think I’m going to need to reread it.
This was one of those books that I wasn’t quite sure about reading. I bought it after reading some good reviews. I then read a few less than favourable opinions about it. It seemed to me that Kafka on the Shore polarised even fans of Murakami’s writing. And there, I maintain, lie the reasons it has been sitting on my shelf for nearly a year, waiting for me to identify the right moment. Some days I walked past the bookshelf, tentatively picked it up before abandoning it for something else and, on other days, I’ve resolutely ignored it. That was before Helen commented on one of my posts that she’d seen it on my TBR list and would love to know what I thought after I read it. The last two words of her comment intrigued me. When I read them, the old KFC slogan came to mind: “Finger lickin’ good”
Helen, I just have to let you know that, even if that is not what you meant when you wrote “Colonel Sanders”, it is entirely applicable to my experience with Kafka on the Shore. It was that good. I usually don’t like books in which plot threads are left loose and dangling on the final page. I’m making an exception for this one — part of the beauty of Kafka on the Shore is that not everything is resolved and not everything needs to be. It is what it is. And that is the only way it can be. That said, I think I missed a lot of the nuances and skimmed much of the philosophical discussion in the text on my first reading. Thus the need for a reread. At some point. Soon.
And as for the pages that were missing? ‘Twas only a minor annoyance. Yes, I missed the circumstances that brought my two favourite characters together (and you may yet find me standing in a book store reading those two pages) but I don’t think my understanding of Kafka on the Shore was in any way diminished by not being privy to that information. Because, you know, I’m a hell of a long way from having anything more than a superficial feel for this labyrinth of a book.
Wah! When I saw the opening quote of your post, my skin went shivery! “A lifetime of weird stuff” sums up Haruki Murakami’s writing. I am a massive fan, I must say, he is my favourite writer ever, ever, ever. But even I wasn’t sure about Kafka on the Shore. Parts of it I loved, parts of it I had to question – like where was he going with the Oedipal theme? I didn’t quite get that. But Colonel Sanders was my favourite character. I thought that was genius.
Have you read The Wind-up Bird Chronicle? That’s my favourite Haruki Murakami book, and favourite book ever. Probably my second favourite by him is Dance, Dance, Dance but that is the sequel of Wild Sheep Chase. I wish I could erase all those books from my mind so that I could have the joy of reading them again. Wah! Stop going on about Haruki Murakami, Helen!
I haven’t read The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, not yet. I am currently debating whether to buy it or put in a request at the library. However, I think I’m glad I read Kafka first. If it is not as good as his other writing, I think I’m in for a treat when I do get around to reading his other books.
I wasn’t sure about the Oedipal theme either. Maybe that’s because so much of it was experienced in the dream world and you never quite knew what was really happening, even when you thought you did. Does that even make sense?? And, of course, that is the big loose thread left hanging at the end but I don’t know that I wanted it to be resolved.
The Nakata narrative was the one that swept me away (not least because Nakata reminded me just a little of a certain Bear of Little Brain, in his attitude and “philosophy” — but that might just be me! And how weird is it that I thought of Pooh while I was reading it… ) and the relationship between Nakata and Hoshino I found oddly touching.
Both Johnny Walker and Colonel Sanders were inspired characters. I read somewhere that these characters were the embodiment of the brands — couldn’t agree more when it came to Johnny. That set-piece with the cats was spine-tingling, gut wrenching stuff. Colonel Sanders? I have to go back and read that bit again, I think.
One thing I wondered: how different would the experience of reading Kafka have been if I’d been able to read it in Japanese — some of the translation seemed to perhaps miss the mark the tiniest bit. It’s the first time in years I’ve regretted not going on with my language studies…
And, Helen, don’t stop going on about Haruki Murakami — it was your comment that got me to read him. Thank you!
I felt as if Kafka on the Shore leaves more threads hanging than The Wind-up Bird Chronicle does, and I was more uncertain about what was going on. I loved Nakata! I’m not sure if I would say Colonel Sanders was the embodiment of KFC (what would that be?! Scary!!) but he reminded me of Japan and how there is a Colonel Sanders “statue” on every corner because there are so many KFC restaurants.
I wish my Japanese was better too although I can’t imagine it ever being good enough to cope with Haruki Murakami. Ah! If I could have three wishes, one of them might be to have the ability to read Haruki Murakami in Japanese.
I was very, very uncertain about what was happening and where the story was heading. At some point I made the decision that I wasn’t going to try to interpret too hard, or second guess where the story was going. It made the going a little easier, I think. But that whole Oedipal thing? I really did want to know whether Miss Saeki was his mother even if my guess is that she wasn’t. But who knows?
Maybe that’s what the reviewer meant when he was talking about Johnny Walker and Colonel Sanders being the embodiment of the brand — they “looked” exactly how you’d expect those brand names to look if they came alive — and I possibly read too much into his statement.
Given you had in-country experience, you’d be a lot closer to coping than me but oh, how I wish…
Oedipal theme :- this is basically represented in the book by the fact that Kafka leaves his father to search for his mother and sister, sort of like leaving a gender to go to the opposite. It’s hard for me to explain.. sorry but i hope you get the jist of it =)