I could have lived my whole life not reading this book.
In our world of vain egos, turning down a recommendation is considered a mammoth deal breaker. Our friendships are prone to validation bias. If they fail to validate a part of us, we fail to acknowledge their existence in our lives. Shini from my work place insisted I should read this book.
The illustration is inspired by the book.
Thus, Murakami finds his way into my reading list. This time it is Kafka Tumara and Nakata’s world trespassing into mine like a dream. My refuge in that dream is long, I cannot hear my phone ringing and do not get distracted by activity around. Implication of my mind and attention cease to exist. The lines do not weigh down on me and do not burden me into accommodating them. I wander seamlessly into its narration…
The book, Kafka on The Shore is dark and deep like an ocean and as you precede reading it, you see yourself further and further away from land. The land begins to resemble scrap yard and the pages begin to rows you into the setting sun. The plot remains flat, deep with occasional swirls of the current.
I am in awe with Murakami’s style of writing. If you love his narrative art you might want to take a sneak peek into his writing schedule:
“When I’m in writing mode for a novel, I get up at 4:00 am and work for five to six hours. In the afternoon, I run for 10km or swim for 1500m (or do both), then I read a bit and listen to some music. I go to bed at 9:00 pm. I keep to this routine every day without variation. The repetition itself becomes the important thing; it’s a form of mesmerism. I mesmerize myself to reach a deeper state of mind.” – Haruki Murakami.
I am not through with the book. Right now I rest on its precipice… ready to cross over.