Kafka on the Shore (Vintage International)

Haruki Murakami (村上春樹) (2002): "海辺のカフカ" (Umibe no Kafuka, Kafka on the Beach) As is well known, det er skaskjint å strikji på ein sjålsøkje so hysjysæ i skytju (as is also expressed by Mr Hoshino). Similarly, measuring literary quality is a difficult business. I did find aspects of this Utterly Famous novel that somehow did...more

Haruki Murakami (村上春樹) (2002): "海辺のカフカ" (Umibe no Kafuka, Kafka on the Beach) As is well known, det er skaskjint Ã¥ strikji pÃ¥ ein sjÃ¥lsøkje so hysjysæ i skytju (as is also expressed by Mr Hoshino). Similarly, measuring literary quality is a difficult business. I did find aspects of this Utterly Famous novel that somehow did not strike me as Utterly Great, after all, but I shall nevertheless treasure and very fondly remember reading it, due to a particularly strong Piloerection Attack, which the book inflicted upon me somewhere past half of the novel. As we know, piloerection (or horripilation, or Cutis Anserina, or goosebumpology) is not consciously controlled and cannot be planned or ordered. It simply happens, as a consequence of intricate reponses of the sympathetic nervous system, accompanying (unplanned and non-controlled) feelings of *awe* or *fear* (or instances of *love*): my tiny muscles at the base of each hair (the arrectores pilorum), contract and pull the hair erect. This is a faint second cousin of the phenomenon that saves the lives of porcupines and other mammals, as conceived fear triggers their sharp pins to erect and frighten attackers. For humans it serves a different purpose, apparently: I do not experience this often [which is why I go on describing it, attempting to understand this unexpected Kafkaesque effect on me], and when it takes place it can last from five seconds to up to perhaps half a minute, and it may be felt on my neck, or back, or arms. It has happened to me when a fellow human being has communicated something particularly important to me, or when I listen to Brahms or Monteverdi. So thanks, arigatou gozaimasu, Mr Murakami, I shall never forget this, that you clearly succeeded in overriding my natural defense systems, causing a particularly strong and long-lasting Piloerection, all over my back, neck, legs, arms. I will not tell you precisely *where* in the story this happened to me, though. It appears to me that the Norwegian translation, by Ika Kaminka, is excellent, even though I haven't had occasion to check the Japanese original. PS1: this is the original Kafka on the Beach: http://www.kafka-franz.com/images/franz%20kafka%20on%20the%20beach-W.JPG PS2: so this is what contributes significantly to changing Hoshino's life: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZpAjb2V_Ew4   hide

Like driving through a tunnel of snowflakes in a raging blizzard, this novel simply sucks you into its own reality, leaving the rest of the world shut out as long as the book is still open. Kafka on the Shore manages to intertwine two stories stories together, stories which share points in common while avoiding all direct contact throughout the novel. One the one side there is Kafka Tamura,...more

Like driving through a tunnel of snowflakes in a raging blizzard, this novel simply sucks you into its own reality, leaving the rest of the world shut out as long as the book is still open. Kafka on the Shore manages to intertwine two stories stories together, stories which share points in common while avoiding all direct contact throughout the novel. One the one side there is Kafka Tamura, 15 years old and running from one past while searching for another. On the other side is Nakata, for whol only the present exists after losing himself in an unexplainable incident as a child. Murakami is sometimes compared to authors of the maginal realism movement, for example García Márquez. He certainly possseses the gift of telling stories, dancing seamlessly between the normal and the fantastic. All the while he maintains a tone and a presence very much his own, which is best experienced rather than described.   hide

Kafka on the Shore is easily one of Haruki Murakami's most accessible, surreal, fun and enjoyable reads. When you put it down, I think you're left turning it over in two ways. The first being trying to figure out how the two stories that occur in the book are connected and what exactly happened. The plot is like a labyrinth in it's structure (incredible considering Murakami apparently had no idea...more

Kafka on the Shore is easily one of Haruki Murakami's most accessible, surreal, fun and enjoyable reads. When you put it down, I think you're left turning it over in two ways. The first being trying to figure out how the two stories that occur in the book are connected and what exactly happened. The plot is like a labyrinth in it's structure (incredible considering Murakami apparently had no idea where it was going when he wrote it) that's a thrill to unfold and a mindbender when you start piecing it together. The second thing you're left mulling over is the point of the book. I think that this is where Kafka on the Shore comes up a bit short. For me, it doesn't add up to much because while I think there are several points Murakami is trying to make, they end up getting lost underneath the dazzling storytelling. I do have other complaints - the novel is a bit flabby, and some of the dialogue is a bit corny (this could be the fault of the translator Philip Gabriel who for the most part turns in a brilliant translation). Despite these complaints, Kafka on the Shore will leave you floating on a cloud somewhere contemplating what you just read, unaware and oblivious to the world below.   hide

This book reminds me of a piece of art I saw at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago this weekend. The structure of the piece was a sort of a mobius strip type deal but it’s actually much more complicated than that. It’s this hollow cage-like structure made of metal and translucent cords and somehow the inside becomes the outside. But the cool part is that it has a entrance...more

This book reminds me of a piece of art I saw at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago this weekend. The structure of the piece was a sort of a mobius strip type deal but it’s actually much more complicated than that. It’s this hollow cage-like structure made of metal and translucent cords and somehow the inside becomes the outside. But the cool part is that it has a entrance into the middle center of it. You climb in, meditate, and “let your consciousness fill the space”. And that’s sort of what I think this book is like---it’s this winding puzzle filled composed of consciousness and atmosphere. Very cool. I would recommend it.    hide