On a blustery October night in Toronto, Reina and my pal Jon suggested that I read a novel by Haruki Murakami. Since most of the stuff I’ve read is by western writers (DeLillo, Eggers and Hemingway most recently), I jumped at the chance to read something outside of the western canon of books. Three months and four novels later, here we are.

A challenger appears

The four books I read were A Wild Sheep Chase, Sputnik Sweetheart, Dance, Dance, Dance, and The Windup Bird Chronicle. These novels were probably the most challenging works I’ve read to date, mostly because it felt like my consciousness was about to explode with each page that I turned. Why? Well, mostly because I found it hard to draw a parallel to the plot, or to Murakami’s writing style in general. That’s not to say that the stuff I’ve read previously is formulaic, but that I’ve never read anything quite like this particular author.

So, with confusion on the brain, I will jump into Murakami. I present:

Things I’ve learned from Murakami Novels

1. A reality (or realities, I guess, if each book occurs in a different universe) parallel to ours exists.

After reading A Wild Sheep Chase, I would nudge elevator doors open, jab at buttons and take long elevator rides and hope to discover a portal to an alternate plane of existence. I also made sure to keep my eyes out for guys dressed in sheep costumes that talked really fast. Seriously though, the concept of a parallel reality (or allusion to one, as in Sputnik Sweetheart) seems to be a common trope in Murakami books. Where do Murakami’s portals lead? Not really sure. The only time I’ve been completely clear that these portals go to a plane of existence similar to ours is in The Windup Bird Chronicle, but even that is probably arguable.

2. Weird things happen. Very weird things.

What kind of weird stuff? Oh, I don’t know. You might be whisked off to a Greek island to search for your lesbian friend who disappeared after going on a midnight walk, or you might almost get your ass kicked by a baseball-bat-wielding guitarist that you follow into a dark alley, or the 16-year old girl that lives in the apartment next to you could intentionally lock you in that dried up well while you’re at the bottom doing some thinking. Y’know, just for fun and all. Well, descending to the bottom of said well was probably a good idea when you were lamenting your lost cat and your girlfriend leaving you because you’re awful in bed. A guy just has to mourn in peace sometimes.

3. Dolla dolla bill y’all.

As soon as shit hits the fan, don’t worry about money. See the clairvoyant lady with the son who hasn’t said a word since he saw something crazy go down outside his window in the middle of the night as a boy? Yeah, she’ll keep you in the money as long as you let women touch that weird mark on your face that appeared when you hurried to make it back from the alternate reality you were visiting. Or maybe your ticket to Greece will be paid for by the rich fashion designer…or the quiet guy who doesn’t say much. Either way, you might as well be wiping your runny nose with hundred-dollar bills.

4. You will operate with the constant feeling that you’re being watched.

Because you are being watched. These four novels were responsible for my lingering sense of paranoia when I step in front of video cameras or walk in public. Anyway, who is doing the following? Beats me. Maybe the Yakuza. Or maybe a shadowy organization whose political ties threaten to destroy you (really destroy you. Not like 15-year old oh-shiii-there’s-a-pimple-on-my-face destroyed, but they’ll-need-dental-records-to-know-who-you-are-because-nothing-will-be-left-of-your-face destroyed). If you’re lucky, you’ll get off with just having your every move tracked by a politician whose existence threatens, well…he’s just a bad guy over all.

So these are some common tropes that I’ve noticed in the four Murakami novels that I read these past couple of months. I know the list isn’t exhaustive, but given the breadth and length of these novels, it’d be hard to summarize the universe (and it really does seem like a separate universe) that revolves around his view of modern Japanese culture. No weeaboos, no Japanophiles, just his straight up view of the creepy goings-on that the average-joe type protagonist in each novel happens to get tied up in.

Would I recommend Murakami? Based on what I’ve read, yes. But I recommend these works with a couple of things that I’d like to point out. First, make sure you have lots of time: if you’re the kind of person who won’t stop reading if they pick up a novel that interests them, be sure that you’ve got nothing pressing to complete for the next few weeks. Second: don’t jump into a Murakami novel expecting any kind of closure. This isn’t a typical “shit-happens-but-gets-better” novel. Far from that, you might be left with a feeling that things weren’t resolved, and if you’re like me, that might drive you crazy. If you’re okay with unresolved notes, and even if you’re not, I’d definitely recommend that you grab a Murakami novel.

Seeing as we’re so close to the holiday season, you might consider picking up a few Murakami novels for the weeaboo on your list. Happy reading!

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