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Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami

Another lovely public holiday. Finished the novel Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami today, on smudgi3’s recommendation. There wasn’t a boring moment in it, but how do I put it, it was a little too skewed and dark for my liking.

The book wasn’t so much about love and death as about dependency and suicide. The love stories in the novel did not capture my imagination as it did not rise above the emotional and sexual dependency the characters had for each other. The deaths in the novel were overwhelming suicides. True, Midori’s parents both die of tumours, but in a way, to Toru, the main character of the book, this is a peripheral event. When it comes down to it, it isn’t so much about love as it is about survival.

Nobody actually understood anyone else, it seemed like. Everyone was closed within themselves, all prototypes of Nagasawa, the ambitious playboy. I think the passage with Nagasawa, Toru and Hatsumi is pivotal in understanding who Toru is. Nagasawa says to Toru:

“But Wantanabe’s practically the same as me. He may be a nice guy, but deep down in his heart, he is incapable of loving anybody. There’s always some part of him somewhere that is wide awake and detached. He has that hunger that won’t go away.” (277)

In some ways, I think Nagasawa hit the nail on the head. Despite this novel being written in the first person with Toru as the narrator, the readers never really understand him. I was almost taken by surprise when he declared to Midori that he loved her and that he would always take care of her. Really? When did that happen?

But I suppose this sense of terrible isolation, even from your own self, was the point Murakami was trying to make. There is no redemption in this novel – only leaving behind the past and trudging towards the future. It is most depressing.

I wonder – is Japanese society really as bleak as Murakami painted?

(Sidenote: lovely food and lovely names though. Lots of miso soup and rice, and beautiful names like Naoko.)

(Read about the differences in Jay Rubin's and Alfred Birnbaum's translations here. It is actually quite different.)
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