Thursday, May 5, 2016

The Awakening and Sleep

I really enjoyed how many of the works we read complemented other readings on the syllabus. I know that was the point of the course but in the specific instance of The Awakening and "Sleep"not only did the themes line up but so did the titles. Chopin's story  was about a woman who "wakes up" in her life emotionally, spiritually, and sexually. Murakami's story is about something similar. A woman wakes up in her life to find something is missing only she literally wakes up and cannot go back to sleep. In her state of wakefulness she develops herself as a person and does what she wants. Her life begins to extend further than just a mother and a wife. She does things for herself. It's a modern (non sexual) telling of Chopin's story. And interestingly enough, both stories end on dark notes. In The Awakening, she kills herself and in "Sleep" she is stuck in a car being rocked back and forth by people on a dock. It is also interesting to look at both women's connection to the water around them. It gives them both power but in the end also leads to their destruction.

Murakami's Writing and Twin Peaks

One of my favorite shows is Twin Peaks which was produced and directed by David Lynch. The show lasted only two seasons, from 1991-1993. The show is about the murder of the town's darling, Laura Palmer. The main character, Agent Dale Cooper, is in the FBI and comes to this small community nestled in the woods near the Canadian border to solve her murder. The show begins in the genre of fantastical realism but as the show goes on it gets stranger and stranger. I re-watched this series alongside this course- not on purpose but it ended up being a really interesting outcome.. Murakami was living in Cambridge in 1993 and I wonder if he crossed paths with Twin Peaks at all, or enjoyed any of David Lynch's movies. There are many, many similarities in tones and of characters. Twin Peaks, one could argue, is almost like a televised version of Murakami's works. It is a mystery with a detective and an everyday sheriff working side by side. There are hints of magic, aliens, and there are more than several sordid affairs. The music in the show is a haunting jazz music that would easily appear in the background of the adventures in a Murakami novel.

The 100% Perfect Girl short film

I thought the short film we watched in class of "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl" was a perfect representation of the short story. It captured the whimsical voice of Murakami and put strangely beautiful visuals to Murakami's strangely beautiful writing. The main character perfectly acted out the tone of the story and I loved seeing the girl pass by him multiple times. While Murakami doesn't write that she passes his vision a dozen times, it was great interpretation of the text. The story of him thinking of her over a period of several pages is a similar process as seeing her walk by dozens of time. I also loved at the end when they pass by each other and they look at each other. The film was in black and white but I loved that when they run into each other again they turn into different colors. The colors complement each other until they both turn into their own colors again and part their separate ways. I also thought the music in the background captured the feeling of the story. I don't know if I can make it any more clear that I loved this story.

The Metamorphosis and "Samsa In Love"

I absolutely loved reading The Metamorphosis and "Samsa In Love" together. I had never read The Metamorphosis before and was actually very surprised by it. It was not at all what I expected it would be and the ending caught me completely off guard. To be honest- I thought there would be a little more introspection about humanity and what Gregor's transformation meant from his own point of view. But I suppose the genius lies in the family's reaction to his metamorphosis. He continually tried to show them that he was still consciously Gregor by keeping away from them and trying to be conscientious of his sister's space, but still they chose to believe that there was nothing left of Gregor in the insect's body. One of the reasons I loved "Samsa in Love" was that it acknowledged the humanity and consciousness of all beings. In Kafka's story, Gregor is a conscious being as a human AND an insect. In Murakami's story he is an insect that has a consciousness as a person and it seems that he has had a consciousness as an insect as well before his metamorphosis. There are new dimensions to what he does and does not understand but he isn't shocked by conscious thought. It was a really interesting comparitive look at consciousness in Kafka's work.

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Chloe's post #6 (of April 29)

 I’m really, really glad I took this class, because it expanded my thoughts on Murakami’s writing. I was actually afraid that perhaps I would grow to dislike it because it became required reading for me, but in fact the class gave me more insight into his style and background. For example, when I read his novels, I don’t usually look up the references he makes in music or otherwise. And that was fine because I still derived meaning from his works. But when we listened to the songs he mentions, I’ve come to realize that it really does add to my reading experience. I also highly enjoyed reading his influences, especially Salinger, Chandler and Auster. To be honest, there wasn’t a reading that I disliked. For my final assignment I chose to write a short story in Murakami’s style, which proved to be more difficult than anticipated. It’s still not as I’d like it to be because my own voice comes out. I don’t think I can describe scenes, objects, or people quite like Murakami can – he’s so detailed and there’s always this uncanny feeling that this could happen to you. But for what it’s worth, I put a cat, a disappearing woman, cigarettes, a strange birthmark and a fetish in.

Chloe's post #5 (of April 29)

            I really enjoyed reading Ghosts by Auster. The colors as names threw me off in the beginning because for me, it dehumanizes them. It’s like having numbers as names. Of course after a while I enjoyed the use of color and name play. Perhaps it was a hint on Auster’s part that Black was White, but I’m still grappling with why Black/White hired Blue in the first place. He says something along the lines of, “He needs to see me to exist,” which I thought was thought provoking. And indeed, Blue’s life is turned upside down after he becomes engrossed in watching Black/White. The idea of the double that Murakami so loves can be clearly seen here. As the story progresses, the reader forms doubts because Black/White’s actions mirror his own! I was hoping that the story that Blue read in the newspaper about Gold and the boy would tie into Blue’s narrative, but alas, Auster leaves us wanting. I thought that maybe the boy that was murdered wasn’t actually murdered, because Auster specifically states that the boy would be Blue’s age in present day. Furthermore, he says that Blue and Black/White appear to be the same age.

Closing Thoughts

This class has given me a new-found appreciation for short stories. The amount that Murakami and the author's who have inspired him are able to pack into two, three, five, or fifteen pages is astounding. I have loved diving into the worlds they create for or fifteen or twenty minutes and coming out of it with a slightly altered perception of the world; with a new experience in my pocket. I hope to continue reading more short (and long, and very long - 1Q84...) works by Murakami and to continue to explore more of the works that have shaped his own writing. It has been wonderful to dive into these short, different worlds and also to string them together.

Color and Murakami

I found this article with images of art-work inspired by Murakami's writing. Some of it was a little eh, but some of it was really wonderful. What I find more interesting than the artwork itself, is the specific moments and ways these artists have chosen to portray Murakami's work. Particularly interesting are the colors people chose to use. Most of the illustrations were done in muted tones, which begs the question, what is it about Murakami's writing that elicits that? I then thought about my own way of picturing the events that unfold in his writing and I think I too often picture his world in a slightly desaturated way. Yet, there are moments where his imagery is vivid. In the scene in Norwegian Wood where Watanabe eats a cucumber with Midori's dad, the color of that cucumber stood out to me as particularly vivid and green. I think that like Murakami's style, which mixes a sort of mundane blandness with an air of magic, the colors that his writing brings to mind are overall muted and often interspersed with vivid sparks.

The article I referred to: http://flavorwire.com/220451/art-inspired-by-the-work-of-haruki-murakami/10

Matter-of-Fact and Confusion

In an interview with The Paris Review Murakami says of his own style: "The story is very complicated and very hard to follow. But my style, my prose, is very easy to read." I definitely agree, and I think that's a big reason as to why his writing is so compelling. He truly creates a beautiful balance between Boku's almost dead-pan voice and straightforward observations and the spider-web like complications of of his plot - and on a bigger scale, life. In a way, Murakami's writing (and specifically his main character) categorizes and clears up certain of life's mysteries all while creating new mysteries in the text for readers to categorize and clear up themselves. 

Monday, May 2, 2016

Closing Thoughts

When I first read The Wind Up Bird Chronicle, the very first Murakami book I touched, I was enthralled. His rich imagining of a corner of history I was unfamiliar with, the aggressively mundane but endearing main character, the countless plot developments and characters that just kind of made me tilt my head and go "huh"? I was worried for a time that the more I read of Murakami, the less his magical little worlds would impress me. Hard Boiled Wonderland failed to grip me the way it seemed most readers, and I wondered whether Murakami was just a one trick pony. I haven't really found that to be the case after taking this class, however. There's plenty of similarities in his work, from character archetypes to specific images, and yet I think Murakami has managed to keep writing without getting stale. There's a real sense of maturity, a confidence of voice, that I find in novels like Wind Up Bird and Tsukuru Tazaki that I don't feel as strongly in A Wild Sheep Chase. I've really enjoyed getting to explore Murakami's voice in his short stories, in the works that inspired him, in the strange little films that have been made based off his work. It's shown me that even though Murakami largely retells the same couple stories over and over, he's able to find new ways to do it, and that there's something that remains impossible to nail down about his writing after all these years.

Post 5

I recently read Murakami's memoir What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. It was strange to read Murakami without the lens of fiction between the two of us; I found myself giving small jolts while reading it just because I'd remember that it wasn't Boku telling me these things. I think Murakami is a fun author to try and interpret through his books, namely because of their strangeness and the reappearing motifs and themes throughout his career. Murakami descriptions of running routines and diet regimens do sound remarkably like something that would come out of Boku's mouth. One element I found especially interesting was in a passage where Murakami recounts the experience of running an ultramarathon (a measly 64 mile race). Things get properly weird around the halfway point of the race. He says: "I felt like I'd passed through something...like my body had passed clean through a stone wall...After that, I didn't have to think anymore". He continues to discuss the total absence of thought and self he experience during that time, and I was just struck by the remarkable similarity to one of his numerous "other worlds," where our main character crosses over from one reality--state of being, what have you-- into another more surreal world. Murakami doesn't define what the specifics of his turning point/ specifics here, but it does clearly seem to be happening. It's interesting to read the sort of fantastical, surreal language associated with Murakami's fictional worlds used to describe his actual life.

Post 4

Murakami's use of music has always stuck out to me. There's very little about his stories that makes me go "ah, yes, here is something that I recognize as firmly belonging to my world".  Areas of Tokyo and Japan at large have no special meaning for me, and while I recognize some of the references to books, I've seldom actually read them. Contrast this to when we hear a song like Norwegian Wood repeatedly played, or Bob Dylan is discussed, or John Coltrane inevitability appears somewhere. These are sources I am familiar with, and when I'm not, their music is only a google search away. Scenes gain a new richness when the writer is kind enough to provide you with a soundtrack. My reading of Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage was greatly enhanced by listening to the Franz Liszt's piano pieces that featured prominently in the book. It's sad and strange and unusual sounding, so of course, it's right at home with Murakami.

Blog Post 3

(Realized I forgot to do this post) I found Murakami's The Mirror to be quite engaging and rather unique amongst his other works. The reader follows one character throughout the story and the character directly speaks to the reader. This work also contains "detective-fiction" elements as you are trying to figure out the cause and situation the janitor is in. I actually find Murakami's short stories a lot less confusing than his novels as he tends to reveal more of what the theme/idea of the story is.  In The Mirror, the story was ultimately based on the idea that the scariest thing in the world is perhaps oneself. There's an ominous feeling when reading The Mirror; however, there's no actual monster within the setting, it's all in the character's/reader's mind. I think a lot of Murakami's works deal with the happenings in the mind: fear, lust, love, imagination, they all start within and then are exploited in our reality.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Alison Post 6

Looking back on this incredibly fun and interesting course and on the roster of Murakami's works that we read, many things stand out to me. However, one aspect of his works that stands out to me as being especially unique to Murakami is his emphasis on loneliness and isolation. Murakami also tackles many other important themes, such as reality or identity, but I have never encountered an author for whom loneliness was such an integral part of so much of his catalogue. His writings are full of protagonists who do not seem to define themselves in relation to others, who get by for the most part on their own, yet for whom companionship is still important. Boku of Norwegian Wood spends many of his days alone throughout the story and lives by himself eventually in his little house, yet, for example, eagerly anticipated the days upon which he would meet with Naoko, visit her near Kyoto, or receive a letter. Colorless Tsukuru's whole plot revolves around an individual who finds himself shunned by his friends. This focus is in short stories as well, like with the woman who suddenly loses the ability to sleep and discovers happiness in life reading and having time to herself. Of course, one cannot forget Tony Takitani who lives life contently alone until he meets his wife, then goes to pieces once she is dead and he is alone again. Murakami does engage with many themes, but this one of loneliness and isolation seems particular to him. Humans frequently define themselves in relation to others, so a focus on individuals who in some way appear to exist outside of this seems interesting, and may even be a way to probe human nature and identity. For me, at least for now, Murakami is who I will turn to when I want to experience his wild worlds but also to experience the realities, whether good or bad, of loneliness and isolation.