العزيز ماروكامي:

بلغني الكثير عن جنونك، بلغني أن هذه هي الأكثر جنونًا، حياتي مليئة بالجنون مؤخرا سيّد موراكامي..تُري هل ستأسرني للحد الذي يدفعني لإتمام عمل بهذا الحجم؟ ام سوف أرجيها لوقت لاحق أكثر إملالا لتحدث بعض الإثارة؟

********************************************

تستحق القراءة و بشدة

من أجمل و أمتع ما قرأت في 2015

ربما اقرأها مرة أخري قريبا..أرشح للقراءة بشدة.


عزيزي موراكامي
شكرا علي السحر.

Wow. Brilliant

1.5. Ta książka była odpychająca, niesmaczna, dziwna do potęgi i utwierdziła mnie w przekonaniu, że nie chcę mieć dzieci

Kafka on the Shore is a metaphor. It follows no rules, it doesn’t adhere to reason, and applicability is not an issue. It fills you up, it tears you down. A fugue of emotions are present, you can’t seem to figure out which of the many different realizations flooding you is most important. Waves roll up again and again on the beach of your consciousness and at first you resist, but after a while you understand that your struggle is pointless, so you give in. You read, you feel, you try to understand, you try to make sense. And you know what? You love it.

I don’t think I can adequately get the gist of a Murakami experience on a goodreads review. It’s something else, something you have to experience for yourself. I will try, but I know I shall fail. You have to realize that reading Murakami requires a unity of perception and feeling. I can try to make you understand certain concepts found in the book, but I will fall short on the sensory part. Murakami’s strength is the feeling he wraps around his teachings. He’s a surrealist painter, a musician, an oddity that weaves consciousness with pop-culture and makes it work. People say his works are easily accessible yet elegantly complex, I whole-heartedly agree. His style is so rich and resonant that it can dabble into lunacy without any sort of urgency. He isn’t regulated in any way, a writer free from normative paradigms and moral constraints. He’s pretty strange, but trust me, it’s awesome the way he writes. Okay, I’m gonna stop myself here. All I’m going to say is try it, experience it. See for yourself.

This novel is shared between two people’s inter-connected tales of self-discovery. A damaged fifteen year-old named Kafka, an illiterate and magical old-man named Nakata, one fleeing from something, the other searching, one looking forward, the other looking back, one with a bright future ahead of him, the other with a dark past. Two very different people, yet their fates are intertwined by something so inconspicuous.

As I said, Murakami hurls many different things at you at break-neck speed. He can talk about fate one minute, then drop it and talk about imperfection the next. It’s kind of messy at times, but the cumulative effect is still pretty solid. It’s like he’s packing everything in a mumble-jumble of thoughts that confusion is a constant. But when you sift through his words, you find that your confusion is more of feeling than an actual state of mind. You understand him perfectly, but you can’t put into words the emotion inside you. Stunning is I think the closest word possible to describing it. For me, though, the thing that stood out the most was his ode to time.

“Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about every day, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.”

Time is an important concept. It is correlated to love and memory, two other topics that are central in Murakami’s points. You see, some people when they find love and are at their happiest, they want to freeze time and live in that moment forever. But what they have to know is that a moment alone will lose all meaning. The present is useless without both the past and future. You cannot appreciate something without knowing how you got there nor understanding that something will come out of it. The past gives a history, the future a possibility. Time is thing of beauty. Life without it is like air, you exist but you are stagnant and boring. With it, it is like the wind, moving, dancing, flowing into the unknown. But not only that, time makes love possible, because love takes time.

“Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you'll live forever in your own private library.”

Aside from love, time also makes one important thing possible. Memories. “If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.” It allows us to store things inside our minds so that we can cherish them as long as we can. It permits us to remember those that have been, those that build up who we are. Because each person is shaped by the cumulative memories that he or she makes. Whether they may be happy or painful or boring, they mold us into who we are. Identity is slowly transformed over time, with our memories playing a vital role.

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.”

Our identity, no matter how much time and memories change it, some part of it will stay the same. There are things that are unchangeable, things that will make you look into the past and see the same thing now. But, there are things that we purposely hold on to that hurt us, things that we hide in us and contain through time. Things that we can let go of, but we don’t, even if it is painful. A time will come when you will have to let go.

“In everybody’s life there’s a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can’t go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive.”

“As long as there’s such a thing as time, everybody‘s damaged in the end, changed into something else.

“But if that happens, you’ve got a place you can retrace your steps to”

“Retrace your steps to?”

“A place that’s worth coming back to.”

As I finish this review, I’m very excited. Yes, I know that I’ve got my memories to look back to, but what I’m excited about are those memories that haven’t been made yet. The future is ahead of me, I’ve got time on my hands. The possibilities are endless.

You’ll need to suspend belief when you read this novel. It’ll also help if you don’t look too closely at the plot nuances surrounding some of the wackier characters you’ll meet along the way. But do this and I’d hope, like me, that you’ll be swept along on an extraordinary journey. First and foremost it’s an enthralling story with compelling lead players (Nakata being my personal favourite) but it also reveals some interesting ideas and insights and asks the reader some challenging questions. It’s entertaining and it’s thought provoking, what else can you ask for?

Murakami’s work is frequently surreal and this novel is no exception. In common with some of his other books, there are two stories here told in alternating chapters. These eventually interlink to bring some clarity (but not total clarity) to the broader tale. There are components I’ve seen before from Murakami: references to whiskey, the detailed preparation of meals, cats, jazz, classical music, Kafka (though not in such an overt way as you might imagine), a search for something, death, parallel worlds and the inner self. It strikes me that the author is like a chef who is constantly using favourite ingredients to make a variety of meals; each meal has echoes of the others but the overall taste, the aggregate experience, is different.

I’ve sometimes used Jay Rubin’s book, Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words, as a point of reference in reading Murakami’s fiction and it does help to draw out some of the messages I might have missed or perhaps highlight sections I’ve misinterpreted. Rubin is a long time translator of the author’s work (though not this book). Of course, this isn't a prerequisite to ensure enjoyment of the authors text, but it does help dimwits like me.

It’s been suggested that this novel is a spiritual sequel to Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. Well, it might be... there are certainly similarities in the way the book is structured and in some of the themes contained in the narrative. Either way, I loved this book and would highly recommend it to seasoned Murakami aficionados or first time visitors to his mysterious and wonderful world - it's as good a place to start as any.

دعك من السماء التي تمطر سمكا ومن القطط التي تتكلم بل ومن ناكاتا الذي يحدثهم استمتع بالحكي والأحداث الغرائبية فيها ككل ما قرأت من قبل فالطالما قرأنا أغرب منها فلا تحاول أن تمنطق اللامنطق مع هذا العمل تحديدا لن تجني إلا الفشل وستظل عاجزا عن الفهم
ولكن تعال هنا .. واستمتع بفلسفة هذا الياباني الفذ اقرأ بعينك وبقلبك بل إقرأ بخيالك وافتح أبواب عقلك على مصراعيها فأروع ما ستجد هنا لا يُقرأ فالرسائل مشفرة تخاطب إحساسك وسعة خيالك وعقلك والمقروء منها ممتع .. عجيب .. مجنون .. ساحر لا يُفسر ولا تطبق عليه قواعد الشرح والدروس المستفادة
لهذه الرواية أوجه عدة قد تراها عبثية .. سيريالية خالية من أي قيمة فأعلم وقتها أنها ليست لك
وقد تراها عميقة فلسفية راقية
أو تراها خبيثة بفلسفة شيطانية شاذة
..اما إذا أردت لها تفسيرا منطقيا فأستطيع أن أقول انها ....
ولكن تذكر إني قلت ربما
ربما تكون رحلة للبحث عن الذات فأوجد أنت ذاتك منها
وربما تكون فلسفة عن الروح والجسد
أو قد تكون حشد للكثير من الأفكار الإنسانية غُلفت بسرد خيالي ممزوج بالواقع بحرفية شديدة جدا وحوارات منها الجاد والمعرفي والفلسفي والطريف ورسم بالغ الدقة لأبطالها ممتع لكل عاشق للأدب
.ربما ...
أتعلمون ربما تكون تفريغ حلم للسيد موراكامي وهو نائم على التاتمي !!
أكيد هذا الرجل له أحلاما ليست كأحلامنا أعتقد أنه في تكوينه الشخصي لا يختلف عن أبطاله
وإلا لما كتب هذه الرواية
وربما من الأفضل أن لا تشغل نفسك بالتفسير
ومن يستطيع تفسير رواية ظهر فيها الكولونيل ساندرز وجوني واكر وسماءا تمطر سردين ومجنون يأكل قلوب القطط وأجن منه يحدثهم
وهو نفس الشخص الذي تكلم عن عشق الكتب والمكتبات وعن موسيقى بيتهوفن وعبقرية هايدن وعن تاريخ اليابان الثقافي وحضارتهم من قبل الميلاد وحتى عصرنا هذا وعن حملات نابليون على روسيا
من يستطيع أن يمزج كل هذا بين دفتي كتاب دون أن يطولك الملل لحظة
( رغم انك مش فاهم حاجات كتير ومفيش أمل تفهم لكن مبسوط :) )
غير كاتب غير تقليدي .. محترف .. فنان .. فيلسوف .. مجنون
أنه الياباني الفذ هاروكي موراكامي ..
وقد قالها الرائع توفيق الحكيم ..
الحلم هو العالم العلوي الذي لا يدخله حيوان الخيال هو تاج السيادة والسمو الذي تميز به الإنسان ..
فقط إقرأها وابحث عن أي من شطآن موراكامي سيختار عقلك ليرسوا عليها .

***هر يك از ما چيزي را از دست مي دهيم كه برايمان عزيز است. فرصت
هاي از دست رفته، امكانات از دست رفته، احساساتي كه هرگز نمي توانيم برشان گردانيم. اين قسمتي از آن چيزي است كه به آن مي گويند زنده بودن.***
اصلــــــاً دلم نمیخواست تموم شه. یادمه دو بار شروعش کردم و حول و حوش صفحه 50 - 60 ول کردم ولی این سری چسبیدم بهش و تا ته رفتم و الان پشیمونم که چرا زودتر نخوندمش. از اون کتاباییه که دلم میخواد یه بار دیگه بخونمش.
عاشق روند موازیش شدم. یه جاهایی احساس میکردم خونم منجمد شده حین خوندنش (از جمله قسمتی که از کشتن گربه ها حرف میزد). مدام منتظر بودم یه سرنخ بده بهم ولی لعنتی خیلی دیر به دیر سرنخ میداد و من دائم دنبال ارتباط بین شخصیتا بودم.
انتظار داشتم پایانش خیلی هیجان انگیز و خفن و تاریک باشه و بازم شگفت زدم کنه ولی خب نشد که بشه و من سوالم این بود تهش : همین؟؟ 600 صفحه خوندم که تهش به همین سادگی و خوشمزگی تموم شه؟
ولی در کل خیلی خیلی خیلی خوشم اومد ازش و
این جمله که "مسئولیت از رویا آغاز میشه" خیلی واسم معنی دار و دلچسب بود.
*****************
ریویو دوم - ۲۹ خرداد ۱۴۰۳
با این که هنوزم این کتاب رو دوست دارم
اما
یه سری نکات بیشتر به چشمم اومد مثلا این که توجه موراکامی به سکس و مسائل جنسی کلا زیاد بود توی این کتاب؛ به طرزی عجیب و البته قابل پیش بینی
انگار ابزاری بود برای بیشتر کردن جذابیت داستانش تا حدی که زیادی شده بود
نکته دوم این که ته داستان میتونست غیرقابل انتظارتر و جالب‌تر تموم شه؛ پایانش کاملا قابل حدس و قابل پیش بینی بود
و تماسی که در نهایت با ساکورا گرفت! واقعا چه لزومی داشت؟
و این که کافکا گفت خوابتو دیدم :/// آدم یاد دوستای صد سال پیشش میفته که به یه بهونه میخوان سر حرفو باز کنن
همین :)

[Revised 3/20/23]

Although translated from Japanese, this work pays homage to Western culture in its title and in its constant references to Greek mythology. Much of the plot is Oedipus. We also hear a lot about western music such as the Beatles, classic Hollywood films like Casablanca, and symbols of western consumerism such as Colonel Sanders and Johnny Walker.



A motherless teenage boy kills his despotic father and runs away. Well, maybe he did kill him, maybe he didn’t.  It looks more like a 'stand-in' for the boy – a mentally challenged older man who talks to animals - perhaps killed his father.  

The boy hides out in a library and at a remote rural cottage. The runaway boy acquires a new best friend who is transgendered. Meanwhile the boy may or may not have had sex with not only his mother, but his long-lost sister as well.

The plot is propelled by magical realism. It rains fish, for example, so it’s hard to tell what is real and what is mythical.

Prophecy, fate, predestination and reincarnation are the themes in this book that the New Yorker characterized as “an insistently metaphysical mind-bender.” A bit slow at times, but it kept my interest.



With almost half-a-million ratings on GR, Kafka is Murakami’s second most popular book by ratings and reviews on GR. First is Norwegian Wood, then Kafka, Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and 1Q84. The first three of these are all highly rated on GR - above 4.0.

Top photo from nbcnews.com
The author from japan-forward.com

كيف يا هاروكي موراكامي؟ كيف تكتب حكاية تتجاوز الستمائة صفحة يقرؤها قارئ شديد البطء مثلي في عشرة أيام؟ كيف سحبتَ مني جزءا من روحي (أو شطرا من ظِلِّي، بكلماتك أنت!) لأصير بنصف روح فقط طوال الأيام العشرة التي كنت أقرأ فيها الحكاية (أو الأيام العشرة التي حدثَت فيها الحكاية، برؤيتك أنت!)؟ لا أعرف، ولن أعرف على الأرجح.
الحكاية كلها يبدأ طرفها من عند (كافكا) الفتى الذي يقرر - في يوم عيد ميلاده الخامس عشر - أن يهرب من أبيه وظلاله ا��مخيفة. ويبدأ طرفها الآخر من عند (ناكاتا) العجوز - ذكَّرني كثيرا بـ(فورست جامب) و(جون كوفي/جرين مايل) و(إد بلوم/بيج فيش) وشخصية أخرى من أحد أفلام العبقري الياباني (هاياو ميازاكي) لن أذكر اسمها هنا حتى لا أفسد أحداث الفيلم والرواية معا! - الذي يقرر، بعد عمر طويل، أن يبدأ في رحلة للبحث عن نصف ظله المفقود! تتقاطع الطرق والمصائر بالطبع، لكن بأقل الأشكال توقُّعا ومللا، وأكثرها غرابة وسحرا.
قيل إن الحكاية الرديئة هي التي تخبرك بحقيقة مؤلفها، وإن الحكاية الجيدة هي التي تخبرك بحقيقة أبطالها. وأنا لم أعرف عن موراكامي - طوال أكثر من ستمائة صفحة - سوى أنه ساحر أو مجنون! موراكامي مثقف بكل معاني الكلمة. خفيف الظل بشكل مدهش. والمؤكد أنه لا يقل غرابة عن بطليه (كافكا) و(ناكاتا)، هذا كل شيء يمكن استنتاجه بصدد المؤلف. أما شخصيات القصة فشديدة الثراء والعمق، كلها. لم توجد شخصية واحدة - بشرية أو غير ذلك! - دون حكاية ورائها، وأبعاد داخلها، وقَدَر ينتظرها. أما تفاصيل الأحداث فمذهلة بكل المقاييس، تحتاج إلى شحذ كل ما لديك من طاقة تأمل وخيال. لا أعرف - بالمناسبة - كيف لم توجد حتى الآن خطط لتحويلها إلى فيلم سينمائي، وقد صدرت طبعتها الأولى منذ عشرة أعوام كاملة!
الترجمة العربية جيدة جدا، ومن الواضح أنها تُرجمت عن الإنجليزية لا اليابانية.
ختاما، لا أدعي أنني فهمت كل شيء فيها بشكل تام، لكنني أعرف يقينا أن (كافكا على الشاطيء) تحتاج إلى قارئ كبير مستعد لها، وأنها - بشكل ما - تعرف كيف تختاره!

أحمد الديب
سبتمبر 2012

This is the second Murakami book I read after Norwegian Wood.

I seldom read long fiction books but I was excited when reading this book.

I cannot stop reading this book after I started to read a few chapters.

I enjoyed reading this book because it kept me continuing to find out the outcome and the end of the story.

Murakami is very creative and imaginative in writing mystery and science fiction stories.

I am collecting his other books now.

n  n

I really disliked this book. It in fact made me angry to read it or sometimes to even think about reading it. It started off with an interesting premise and interesting characters (which is why it got two stars), but about midway through I thought it all spiraled apart into ridiculousness. I know this book falls into the magical realism genre, in which I know who just need to suspend your disbelief, which I can do, but only if I feel like the magical elements in the book have a meaning and contribute to the story, not if they are just thrown in there to be surreal. There were so many elements in this book that were just plain weird...for example, Johnnie Walker (the whisky guy) who killed cats and collected their souls to make a magic flute (this was just one scene, it never really came back to connect to the story), fish and leeches raining from the sky, and Colonel Sanders (the KFC guy) also made an appearance and set one of the characters up with a prostitute. And then there were weird realtionships between the characters of the 15 year old main character sleeping with (maybe) his 50 year old mother. It's all so odd and I felt like I never understood any of the characters or the meaning of all of this random stuff. And then there would be random annoying many-pages-long philosophical statements from a character or desciptions of classical music that just were so boring and unconnected to the rest of the story and seemed completely out of place. So I definitely would not recommend this book. The only reason I even finished it was because it was the book for my book club that I just joined. And that's another reason it got two stars instead of one - some of the parts of the book were interesting to talk about to other people.