Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami
By Mark Flanagan, About.com

Reading a Haruki Murakami novel is always a bit like listening to a Brian Eno composition - mesmerizing, ethereal. Murakami's characters typically sojourn through tales sprinkled liberally with vaguely symbolic encounters, emissaries from the spirit world, and for good measure, a dash of sex. The first person of his own tale, Kafka Tamura begins by informing us, "On my fifteenth birthday, I'll run away from home, journey to a far-off town, and live in a corner of a small library. It sounds a little like a fairy tale. But it's no fairy tale, believe me." And yet, it is. Fifteen year old Kafka labors under the weight of an omen laid upon him by his father, a renown Tokyo sculptor who tells Kafka that he is destined to murder his father and sleep with his mother and sister. The weight of this Oedipal prophecy is particularly heavy for Kafka, abandoned by his mother and sister at the age of three and without a clue what they look like or where they live. So, armed with his backpack, walkman, and a childhood full of resentment, Kafka sets out from Tokyo to Takamatsu, a small town on the Southern island of Shikoku, where he does indeed take up residence in a corner of a small library. Cut to Satoru Nakata, a pleasant old man, speaks kindly and politely to everyone he meets. A bizarre childhood accident left him learning-disabled, unable to read or write. His needs, like his thoughts, are simple. He depends on a government "sub city" which he augments by finding lost cats. Nakata, it seems, has the curious ability to speak with cats. Black cats, striped cats, tabby cats… Nakata is particularly fond of a Siamese named Mimi with impressive conversational skills and a proclivity for quoting Puccini operas. And with his government subsidy, Nakata has plenty of time to wander vacant lots discoursing politely with the neighborhood strays: "So you can talk, huh?" the cat, a black and white tabby with torn ears, said a bit hesitantly as it glanced around. The cat spoke gruffly but seemed nice enough. "Yes, a little," Nakata replied. "Impressive all the same," the tabby commented. "My name's Nakata," Nakata said, introducing himself. "And your name would be?" "Ain't got one," the tabby said brusquely. "How about Okawa? Do you mind if I call you that?" "Whatever." "Well then, Mr. Okawa," Nakata said, "as a token of our meeting each other, would you care for some dried sardines?" "Sounds good. One of my favorites, sardines." Nakata took a saran-wrapped sardine from his bag and opened it up for Okawa. He always had a few sardines with him, just in case. Okawa gobbled down the sardine, stripping it from head to tail, then cleaned his face. "That hit the spot. Much obliged. I'd be happy to lick you somewhere, if you'd like." Propelled by forces beyond his understanding (or ours), Nakata undertakes a journey that parallels Kafka's - geographically and metaphysically. In Murakami's colorful dreamscape the two characters never meet, though their destinies are fully intertwined. As in earlier Murakami works, the surreal plays heavily into how events unfold in the human world. In Kafka on the Shore, Murakami's spiritual emissaries borrow form from Western commercial icons. A black hat wearing, black booted Johnnie Walker eviscerates live cats, ingests their still-beating hearts, and collects their souls for the making of flutes. Johnnie Walker's karmic antithesis is a Japanese version of Colonel Sanders, complete with white suit, white goatee, and string tie. The Colonel's endeavors to restore order to the universe include pimping for a Hegel-quoting philosopher-prostitute. Murakami yet again proves his mastery at creating compellingly ordinary characters who move nonplussed through extraordinary realms and circumstances. Kafka on the Shore is at once humorous and revelatory, all the while engaging. Perhaps you like your storylines to occur squarely in the bounds of reality. You desire the traditionally comforting constructs of conflict and suspense. You want to know where the novel is going, or at least at the end, you'd like to feel confident about what it all means. Kafka on the Shore is not for you. But if you're looking for something to jar you from the bounds of your own reality, your own understanding, then look no further. A Haruki Murakami novel, like a Zen koan, is crafted for just such a purpose.

http://contemporarylit.about.com/od/fiction/fr/kafkaOnTheShore.htm