Haruki Murakami’s book “Kafka on the shore” was recommended to me by a friend. I wasn’t exactly excited to begin reading. Only when the Egyptian revolution began, the internet was blocked, with no movies to watch on my laptop, I was left with one choice, Kafka.
With the slow pace, and a plot that promises another teen drama, the novel starts as disappointing. Things get a lot better around the middle, only to get slow again near the end.
Haruki’s way of describing events is overwhelming. The guy will leave you breathless if he wants. He only uses this amazing ability twice though, or may be thrice.
The dialogues where my favorite, it never bores you, Haruki -through his characters- appears as a very nice person, someone you’d enjoy talking to. Dialogues become too philosophical and deep at times, but it remains nevertheless enjoyable. Haruki obviously loves music, it shows in how most of the characters are touched one way or another by music, especially classical music. The characters use famous quotes all the time, yet never appear as over-sophisticated or difficult.
Haruki’s novel is a dream, one you’d forget most about when you wake up. What remains of “kafka” is a distant vague memory. Don’t waste your time trying to force a moral out of the novel; it is after all like life: doesn't make sense.
I've suffered a lot during this novel, and I don’t think I’ll ever read another novel by Mr. Murakami. The way he leaves you with so many questions unanswered is a very painful torture. His fans use the word “surrealist” a lot to describe his work. And though I understand Haruki’s point of leaving things unsettled, because you don’t expect life to always give you satisfying answers, I myself prefer literature to be a refugee from life’s fogginess, a moment of clarity, an oasis of absolute truth.
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