South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami - 4 stars ****
This is a nice short little holiday read, that is up there with Murakami's finest. It tells the story of Hajime, an only child, and his childhood growing up in Japan. He makes friends with a girl called Shimamoto, who has polio which causes her to limp. She too is an only child, so the pair strike up a great friendship, hanging out listening to music and talking about themselves.
The pair go off to different universities and lose touch, and Hajime ends up married with two children, and opens two successful jazz clubs in a trendy part of town thanks to help from his wife's father. He has a happy, content life and loves his wife and children, but when he is 35, Shimamoto returns and it causes him to question his happiness and what he wants.
This novel is the epitome of the age old 'grass is greener' dilemma. Although they were young so had no romantic relationship in the past; Shimamoto and Hajime feel a deep connection that they share through years of getting to know each other. Hajime begins to develop intense feelings towards Shimamoto, which cause him to become irrational and act out of character.
It is never revealed where Shimamoto has been all this time, or if she has a family of her own, but that is part of the beauty of Murakami's writing. It is also left open at the end for the reader to create their own opinion of what has happened - some theories suggest that Shimamoto's return is all an illusion, a manifestation of Hajime's mid-life crisis, whereas others infer that the situations all occur in real life, but that Shimamoto is a test and has no intention of setting up a life with Hajime as is mentioned. Read it for yourself and make your decision!
Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami - 2 stars **
I love Murakami books, and this was one I bought for my sister that I was yet to read (convenient) so I stole it from her uni room when I last went to visit.
I'll be honest, I was disappointed. It took me a while to get into, and I felt almost no connection with the lead characters, who are normally so interesting and three dimensional. Though I did enjoy the comment made by one: 'I have a thing about losers. Flaws in oneself open you up to others with flaws.' The plot confused me as there were a lot of scientific theories and explanations throughout which I really struggled to understand. (and I'm not a stupid person!). Even now having finished the book and taken a fair while to do so, I'm having trouble remembering what it was actually about...
I know it has two parallel stories that seem to focus on the same person, but in different worlds or mindsets - the 'normal' streets of Tokyo that then descend into an underground world of INKlings, and a dream world where people have their shadows removed upon arrival and lose all their sense of emotion. They are then doomed to live eternally as cardboard cut-outs of their former selves.
As always, the text is well written, Murakami has a talent for creating poetry out of prose, and making the most mundane of situations appear fantastical and beautiful:
'She turns on the dim light and the shelves of countless skulls float up through the gloom. Pallid shapes, covered thick with dust, jaws sprung at the same angle, eye sockets glaring vacuously their silence hangs over the stacks like a ghostly mist. A chill creeps over my flesh again.'
Overall though, I wasn't impressed - poor show Murakami!
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Christmas Coffee, Chinese & Unusual Buys!
My week got off to a good start - on Monday I sampled my first Christmas Starbucks coffee of the year (Toffee Nut Latte), which was amazing, and I also started a book by one of my favourite authors - Haruki Murakami. I worked at the pub in the evening, but it was really quiet as it was Bonfire Night, gutted I didn't get to see any fireworks this year!
On Tuesday I got a very exciting piece of post, a Save The Date from my best uni friend Laura and her fiance Dickon for their wedding next summer, unbelievably happy for the pair of them! I went to see Billy Talent in the evening after work (see previous post), which was a crazy rush as I finished late, but I made it in the end. I went for a coffee and slice of peanut butter and chocolate cake (as awesome as it sounds!) whilst Aum was at drama club on Wednesday, and then babysat for him until about 11pm, so it was nice just to have a chilled night in at home on Thursday evening.
On Friday my parents went away for the weekend, so I cooked myself fish and sweet potato chips for tea and relaxed in front of the TV. Lydia came around later on and we had a good natter until 2.30am - time always flies when we get chatting! I got up early on Saturday without a hangover for once, and the weather was so lovely I went for a run in the sunshine instead of the gym session I had planned. I spent the day doing some writing and research for a couple of magazine articles, and then in the evening Emily came to mine and we had a little Chinese banquet courtesy of Iceland! Then later on Tasha came and we had a few drinks before heading out into Altrincham.
We started in The Classroom with a cocktail, but there were some sketchy looking people in there, so we moved swiftly on to High Society. The bar staff were ridiculous in there - having to check the menus for what was in cocktails, and Emily's was basically chocolate Frijj with Baileys in! We ended the night in Bloom Live, which is always a fun night, and there was a really good Gospel type band on which got everyone in a good mood. I saw my gym instructor and one of Aum's teachers in there which was a little weird, but everyone was enjoying themselves so it wasn't awkward at all. Once the band had finished normal music came on, and by this time everyone was well up for it, and we stayed dancing until half one before getting a lift home.
Today I had a leisurely lie in before making some pancakes for my breakfast, and then I met up with Abi and Tasha for a coffee. Afterwards I went to TK Maxx with the intention of looking for ski boots, but came away with a black floaty dress and a gold spiked bra, typical me!
A Wild Sheep Chase by Haruki Murakami- 3 stars ***
I am a huge fan of Haruki Murakami, and this is the seventh of his books I have read. A Wild Sheep Chase is actually the third part in 'Trilogy of the Rat' but despite having not read the first two instalments, it seemed to make perfect sense on its own.
I always find Murakami's stories are quite patchy, but not necessarily in a bad way, and this book was no exception. It jumps around quite a lot and focuses on descriptions rather than plot, and also finishes quite abruptly. However all the questions are answered, and the language used as ever was beautifully crafted and a pleasure to read. An example is 'His face was even harder to figure. It was a straightforward face, but expressionless, a blank slate. His nose and eyes were angular, as if scored with a paper knife in afterthought, his lips bloodless and thin. He was lightly tanned, though clearly not from the pleasures of the beach or the tennis court. That tan could only have been the result of some unknown sun shining in some unknown sky.'
The plot was unusual but interesting. It follows the journey of an unnamed man who after publishing a photo with his P.R firm, gets roped into a hunt for a sheep in the picture with a bizarre star on its back. In the space of one month he has to find the sheep, which could be anywhere in Japan, otherwise his company will be dissolved and his business partner left with no livelihood. Along the way he meets a woman with ears that people can't help but look at, and a man who dresses in a full woollen sheep ou
tfit and wanders about the hills.
This is not one of my favourites of Murakami; I have to admit, but it still retains the charm and often humour of his books. An example of such is, 'But then some joker of an architect came along to attach another wing of the same style and colour scheme onto the right side of the original structure. The intention wasn't bad, but the effect was unpalatable. Like serving sherbet and broccoli on the same silver platter.'
I would recommend this book, but only to people with a very open mind, or those who are familiar with the author's work. I would say that if a regular John Doe were to pick it up, it would seem over the top and pointless, and it is a shame to be put off an really good novelist simply by misunderstanding the intentions behind the story. Try Norwegian Wood or The Wind-up Bird Chronicle first.
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