The sights, sounds and smells of, typically, Japan. Murakami has this beautiful way of building atmosphere with words. Through Murakami, through the fantastical, I gained a clearer view of my own reality. Going into that blend of magic and realism, that surrealism alongside the mundane, that awe alongside the everyday, I began to see my own world more clearly. In each case, I was taken out of my own life and into a different place and time. Finally, I read a few quotes from Murakami’s (other semi-autobiographical) book on running, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. So, I watched the Korean film Burning, based on Murakami’s short story Barn Burning.
My pilgrimage began with The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, then Dance, Dance, Dance, before I reread parts of Norwegian Wood. I want to understand his point of view, to be able to see the world according to Haruki Murakami. I’ve devoured novels and interviews with a view to understanding the man behind the prose. I’ve spent the last few weeks reading Murakami’s work, trying to understand exactly what it is that draws me in. Last year, I read it again, and suddenly it resonated. When I first read the chapter, ten years ago, I had no connection to it. He hears the song and is taken back in time to his university years, on a walk with a girl in a meadow on a hot day, looking for a well. The book begins with Norwegian Wood, the Beatles song, playing on an airport speaker system. Ten years ago, I tried to read Norwegian Wood, a semi-autobiographical novel by the author Haruki Murakami. I couldn’t finish it, but for some reason, the first few pages stuck with me.
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