I hated this book so much that I'm probably never never reading anything else by Murakami. Between the dream/not dream rape of his friend, the graphic cat murder, the overly detailed descriptions of Kafka's penis and how his penis felt when looking at the woman he was pretty sure was his mom, and ending with the totally unsatisfying resolution to the plot, the entire story felt like the worst kind of masturbatory literary fiction.

this book is fucked up in a lot of ways but the thing that grossed me out the most was the fact that whenever kafka was thirsty he drank milk

So... it took me a while to finally gather my thoughts, but here we go.

I hadn't read anything else by Murakami when I started this one. Actually, this is the first Japanese novel I've ever read, so I was quite surprised to find out his works won't serve as an appropriate introduction to Japanese culture – he did call himself an 'outcast of the Japanese literary world' after all, and his books are remarkably... Western. His characters all wear Nike or North Face, they listen to Prince, Radiohead and even Haydn, praise Truffaut and the French New Wave... hell, I could barely find any Japanese cultural references in Kafka on the Shore, which actually made me wonder whether people back home enjoy reading him at all (turns out they do!).

As an European, I may be biased; The fact that I was already familiar with a lot of the cultural allusions in here might have made me feel a little smarter, also inevitably making the novel more likeable for me. Either way, I thought this book was brilliant, and so much more than a plain retelling of the myth of Oedipus. You'll find many images, symbols and events apparently devoid of any sort of logical explanation – like dreams, Kafka on the Shore follows its on kind of logic, so read it with an open mind (and if you love magical realism, YOU NEED TO PICK UP THIS BOOK NOW).

We follow Kafka, a 15 year-old boy who runs away from home with a view to find his long-missing mother and sister, but also Nakata, a 60 year-old society dropout who lost his mental faculties as a child during WWII, and who... is able to communicate with cats. Sure, the plot seemed predictable at times: for instance, although the two characters never interact directly, it becomes clear from the start that their destinies are somehow intertwined. But, by God! The writing is absolutely gorgeous. Murakami's a great storyteller and this novel's a definite page turner, but I'd say that the plot isn't what makes it an amazing read.

Where does your responsibility begin here? Wiping away the nebula from your sight, you struggle to find where you really are. You're trying to find the direction of the flow, struggling to hold on to the axis of time. But you can't locate the borderline separating dream and reality. Or even the boundary between what's real and what's possible. All you're sure of is that you're in a delicate position. Delicate – and dangerous. You're pulled along, a part of prophecy, or of logic. Like when a river overflows, washing over a town, all road signs have sunk beneath the waves.
–
She leaves behind a damp pillow, wet with her tears. You touch the warmth with your hand and watch the sky outside gradually lighten. Far away a crow caws. The Earth slowly keeps on turning. But beyond any of those details of the real, there are dreams. And everyone's living in them.

So, yeah, I don't really understand this book.

It is not often that I admit a book has defeated me intellectually; upon the rare occasion that it happens, however, I will admit it. This review is, like any review, a meditation on the unique experience I had reading the book, but it is also ruminations about why I feel that Kafka on the Shore is a mountain whose summit I never reached.

I'm starting to suspect that I have a penchant for magic realism. On one hand, the term smacks of genre-snobbery, a label that authors or critics use to avoid consigning a book to the ghettoized fantasy section of the bookstore. On the other hand, the term is seductive. It represents a flirtation with the fantastic that, when done well, forces the mind to reconcile contradictory realities. Think n  The Enchantress of Florencen or n  The City & The Cityn. Fantasy is the outright alteration of the laws of physics; magic realism is the collision of physics with the other, as well as the appropriation of the laws of narrative for the characters' own purposes. Kafka on the Shore exemplifies the headache-inducing experience of a well-executed piece of magic realism. It seems, unfortunately, that this was a little too much for my poor mind to handle.

Wired as it is to unravel fact and fiction, my mind constantly tugs me toward the question of, "How much of what happens in the book is meant to be considered 'real events' and how much is a delusion or metaphor?" But I don't think that question is correct—or at least, the way it is formulated seems to imply a separation of the real from the metaphorical is possible. Maybe it is not; therein lies the headache.

Example time. Late in the book, Kafka has a dream that might not be a dream in which he has sex with Sakura, a young woman who might or might not be his long-lost (adopted) sister. Kafka's search for his mother and sister, who left home when he was a child, is a major part of the book, one that deserves heavy discussion itself. This particular scene troubled me. It was more confusing than disturbing. While clearly starting as a dream, the language sometimes made it sound like it was a dream dialogue—Kafka and Sakura were sharing a dream, in which they had sex. I think it's possible to interpret it either way—nothing later in the book seems to contradict either interpretation. What I cannot place is the metaphorical significance of this scene, though I am certain one exists.

Central to the problem is the so-called "Oedipal prophecy" handed to Kafka by his estranged (or merely strange?) father, who may or may not be a cat-murdering flute-carver posing as a conceptual imitation of Johnnie Walker. When he leaves home, one of Kafka's objectives is to find his mother and sister, though he has no information about them, no names, just a photograph of the family at the beach. Now, Kafka is fifteen years old and makes it clear that his hormones are right on track for a boy his age. So when he starts entertaining sexual fantasies of Sakura, who is about the right age to be his sister, he has to wonder if she is his sister. Receiving an actual hand-job from Sakura later in the book does not simplify matters. Still, there are mitigating factors: despite his fantasies, we don't actually have confirmation that Kafka ever has intercourse with Sakura. And even if she is his sister, she was adopted, so the incest taboo's squick-factor is lessened.

No such comforts exist for Kafka's relationship with Miss. Saeki. Like Sakura, we never find out if Miss. Saeki truly is Kafka's mother (I would argue that the implication for the affirmative is stronger here than in Sakura's case, but I think Murakami deliberately left it ambiguous). Unlike Sakura, Kafka does have sex with Miss. Saeki—first in a dream-like but real episode which Miss. Saeki does not remember, then subsequently in a deliberate episode that they both, at least at first, regret. Although Kafka dreads his father's prophecy, and although his operating theory is that Miss. Saeki is his mother, he still decides to sleep with her.

I don't know; thanks to John Irving (particularly n  A Widow for One Yearn), the whole motif of older women having sex with younger men disturbs me. By motif I mean that the actual idea of such of a relationship does not disturb me, but the use of it in literature, particularly as a device for ending a character's innocence, does disturb me. Kafka seems very nonchalant about his relationship with Miss. Saeki—not exactly resigned, but not reticent either. This analytical, calm aspect extends to his personality in general: aside from some notable exceptions, such as when he wakes up with blood on his shirt, Kafka is a mellow individual. He does not rage. He just accepts and thinks. It is fine for a character but odd for a fifteen-year-old boy, and it makes Kafka feel a bit less real. (There I go using those loaded terms again.)

Oh, and there is a whole other side to this book that I have yet to mention: Sakuro Nakata. I have to confess that I preferred much of Nakata's story over Kafka's (with the exception of the Johnnie Walker chapter). Nakata and Kafka both have a similar acceptance of events as they happen, but Nakata seems to have more will than Kafka, who spends most of his time moping around the library and listening to a record. Nakata takes up a traditional-style quest, leaves the only home he has ever known, falls in with a companion (some might say disciple) and experiences change. Conversely, Kafka strikes off on his own immediately, but he shies away—leaving the forest—from any final fate. Nakata gains peace; Kafka matures.

Nakata's encounter with Johnnie Walker causes me as many headaches as Kafka's dream about Sakura. Are we supposed to equate Johnnie Walker with Kafka's father? I don't know. Johnnie Walker and Colonel Sanders seem like two sides of the same coin, a self-identified concept that can assume forms but not manifest in any physical way. If that is the case, then Nakata could not possibly have killed Johnnie Walker—but perhaps Johnnie Walker is a concept connected somehow to Kafka's father, and killing the concept killed the man. See? Metaphysical dilemmas for which Murakami has no answers.

Not that I'm demanding answers. Books that seek to provide an answer to every little question end up laden with excess exposition. Moreover, Kafka on the Shore is not a straightforward narrative, and that is probably for the best. Murakami has taken a standard literary fiction plot, that of the adolescent runaway, but instead of exploring it on the standard plane, he takes it into higher dimensions. Still, there are some questions that really irk me. Exactly what does the "Crow" character represent? Part boy, part bird, all a figment of Kafka's imagination . . . there's probably an essay somewhere in here about "representations of anthropomorphic animals in Kafka on the Shore," if someone has not written one already . . . but I digress.

No, the reason I feel somewhat defeated is because I can't seem to settle on any consistent set of interpretations to the symbols Murakami has left in his wake. It is frustrating, because I can recognize the intensity of Kafka on the Shore, but I cannot celebrate it. The metaphors add depth to the story, yet my inability to parse them prevents them from turning the narrative into a coherent whole. In short, I read the book, but I did not really get the book. Nor is it that there is, in fact, nothing to get; Kafka on the Shore is not a con (well, no more than any fiction book is). I get just enough to glimpse enlightenment and know it exists, but I can't quite achieve it.

One day I hope I will find more in this book than the first time. I often find that, with difficult books, sometimes multiple readings are the only thing one needs—that and the time to grow, to change, to be a different person from the one who read the book the first time. Future Ben may see the subtleties of Kafka on the Shore with greater clarity than this version of me, and he might life at my incomprehension (or, hopefully, not).

So I cannot leave you with my impression of this book's literary merit (what does that even mean?). However, as the parenthetical question in my previous sentence indicates, I can say that, if it did not provide me with many answers, Kafka on the Shore did provoke me into asking more questions. This is not a book that fits into a comfortable niche, either for the purposes of comprehension or for criticism. We need books like that, even if we don't entirely know what to make of them.

n  n

This was my first ever Murakami read. The name in the start attracted my attention and later when I asked a few friends about giving me an opinion on this book, I was told to just have a go at it the first chance that I get. I read the summary of this book on good reads and I wasn't able to make it out if I should go with it or not. Meanwhile, I had a chance to visit NYC. And libraries and bookshops are always my must go places whenever or wherever I get a chance. Well, I bought this book on my visit to a bookshop. Even after coming back home, I had some hesitation towards reading it.
But once I started it, I put it down only after completing it. Such a page turner was it to me. If you ask me what this book was about, I would reply what this book was not about? If you ask me what did I learn from it, I won't be reluctant to say what topic did it not cover! The author picked up a little of everything from the universe and put into this book and still didn't even touch a single thing. After being a long time reader, you start thinking that you can now kind of guess what a specific could be about or you expect at least that nothing could serve as a cause of your jaw drop. This book proved me wrong! This author proved me wrong. He proved that other worlds and universes exist and within our own very little place in universe, there are things we haven't yet grabbed the meaning of. Very very well written. Must read for everyone and anyone who loves reading.

يستلهم هاروكي موراكامي نفسه
يفككها ويأخذ محتوياتها ليصنع منها شخصياته
هو الصبي المراهق المتمرد على الثقافة الأبوية، يتنكر بقناع كافكا ويرتدي قميصه ويتشرب اغترابه
وهو الشاب الذي قتله أصحابه بطريق الخطأ في فورة غضبهم السياسي
وهو الحاكي بصوت شهرزاد التي تكتب أغنية وحيدة لحبيب ستستعيد صورته في الخريف
وهو ناكاتا المتحدث مع القطط الذي يستقبل رسائل من بشر يخفون معاناتهم في كتابات تتناثر في رياح الزمن مع رماد الوقت
وهو قط يبحث عمن يفهم لغته
وهو الشرقي الذي غزته ثقافة الغرب
وهو السائق المشحون بصدى بيتهوفن وشوبرت يرددها عبر فاصل من المحيطات والبحار
وهو قبل وبعد ذلك الصوفي الذي تتلمس روحه العلاقات الشعورية الخفية في عناصر العالم فيعبر متاهات الجسد وأنفاق المنطق محددا نقاط بعيدة تتلاقى ذراتها في رياح الجزر المتناثرة في مضارب الأعاصير
رواية مشبعة بالثقافة العابرة للحدود والأنماط الفكرية والغرائبية التي يتحدث بها صمتنا
رواية تستبطن محاصيل أحاديث أحلام اليقظة ومتاهات الكوابي
تنتزع الآخر من سباته باعماقنا
لتضعه على شاطئ الحكايات
مغامرة في محبة الرحلة والموسيقى والقطط
أقصد الحرية والفن والكائنات
قد تتم الترجمة عن لغة وسيطة، لكنها تصوغ الرواية عملا فنيا يعي جمال السرد
ويجيد التعامل مع أوراق لعب المبدعين
حتى لو كانت هذه الألعاب بديعية تستخدم الجناس لكشف العلاقة بين ألفاظ المجتمع وثقافته
تحية للمترجمة التي تجيد صياغة السرد بروح أدبية فيها تماسك التأليف واستراتيجية نقل الشكل وجمالياته التشكيلية ومقصديته الشعورية وتبحث عن معادل بلاغي للألعاب اللغوية البديعية

I kept hoping it gets better. It took me so long to read and made me watch tv shows instead of reading.. call me shallow or whatever you want but this book is trying to be philosophical and deep too hard. Too much details, too many things were mentioned and didn’t affect the plot (uhm wait what plot) in any way. We still didn’t get any explanation on some bizarre events/characters. A few events were just too disturbing and not in a good way. I honestly wanted to give it 2 stars but then realized there’s nothing that affected me in Kafka on the shore -which was the whole point of this boring book. I very much struggled to finish it. I guess people who like this genre might enjoy it more. So really, it depends on one’s preference (obviously). Since I liked 1Q84, this wont be my last Murakami but I doubt I’ll be reading another anytime soon.

" محمد .. ابقى اسألى عندك فى السور على رواية اسمها كافكا على الشاطئ "
" كافا على الشاطئ ؟ ايه الاسم غريب ده ؟ دى بتتكلم عن كافكا ؟ "
"لأ .. دى رواية لكاتب يابانى إسمه هاروكى موراكامى "
" هاروكى مورا ايه ؟ حلوة دى ؟ "
" آه سمعت .. بيقولوا حلوة جدًا "
" حاضر هسألك عليها .. ولو كده اجيب نسخة لنفسى "
************************
"الرواية ب 120 جنيه يا هدى ! "
" لأ خلاص ... ماله ال pdf ؟؟ "
" نستنى كده يمكن تنزل فى السور والا حاجة "
" أوك "

************************
"الرواية نزلت عندنا فى النبى دانيال"
" رواية ايه ؟ "
" كافكا على الشاطئ "
" بجد؟ ده انا كنت خلاص نسيت .. كده غالبًا هلاقيها عندنا فى السور احنا كمان "
***********************


طيب .. أقول أيه ؟
اسمحولى اكتب بالعامية لانى مش هعرف اكتب عنها بالفصحى ..
ايه اللى ممكن اكتبه عن رواية زى دى ؟
أبقى بكدب لو قولت إنى فهمتها .. أى حد هيكون بيكدب لو قال إنه فاهمها ..
الرواية من أغرب ما قرأت ..
هى واقعية والا خيالية والا ميكس بين الاتنين ..
لحد ربعها الأول كانت واقعيه .. بعد كده بدأت تظهـر العجائب ..


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الرواية ماشية فى محورين .. متوازيين فى البداية ، لكن فى النهاية بيحيدوا عن مسارهم وبيتقاطعوا ..
( كافكا ) اللى بيهرب من منزله ، ومن إقليمه كله عشان يقدر يحقق حلمه ويبقى أقوى شاب عنده 15 سنة فى العالم ، ويهرب من لعنة أبوه ..


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( ناكاتا ) العجوز المتخلف عقليًا ، صاحب القدرة على التحدث مع القطط ، اللى بيهرب من مقاطعته برضو عشان يلاقى نص ظله التانى ..


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الرواية عبارة عن مجموعة من المصادفات المتصلة ببعضها اللى بتربط بين أبطال الرواية كلهم ، رغم إن كل واحد منهم فى مساره ، لكن فى النهاية الارتباط ده بيبان ويكون أوضح إلى حد ما ، وإن كان مش واضح بالدرجة الكافية وبيفضل لحد النهاية فى نقط غامضة ..


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رواية فيها شاب بيكلم صديق وهمى اسمه ( كرو ) ، وعجوز بيكلم القطط ، وسيدة خمسينية بتظهر على صورة شبح فى فى ال 15 من عمره ، وحجر مدخل بيفتح باب لعالم تانى ، وأطفال حصلتلهم حادثة إغماء بدون سبب ، وجنود مجهولين من الحرب العالمية التانية موجودين فى الغابة ، وشخص بيقتل القطط وبيآكل قلوبها وينتزع أرواحها عشان يعمل منها ناى يعزف بيه ، وراجل عجوز عنده القدرة على إنه يخلى السماء تمطر سمك ..





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إزاى تقدر تجمع كل ده فى رواية واحدة بدون ما تخلى القارئ ينفجر فى وشك ؟ لأ وكمان تخليه مستمتع ؟
الكاتب اللى يقدر يعمل كده هو بلا شك كاتب يملك موهبة فذة ، وقدرة صياغة غير طبيعية ..


الرواية فيها نكهة فلسفية متخفاش على حد ، وبتطرح تساؤلات عن الحياة والموت والأحلام والذكريات ...

بقالى فترة طويلة مقريتش رواية بالحجم الكبير ده .. لكن الرواية خلصت سريعًا ومكنتش عايزها تخلص .. كانت ممتعة إلى أقصى درجة ..

برغم إن الترجمة العربى قائمة على الترجمة الإنجليزى ، مش من اليابانية مباشرةً ، إلا إنها مفقدتش رونقها ، وكانت جيدة وممتعة جدًا ..
الرواية عملتى حالة من اللاوعى بعد ما أنتهيت منها ، وأثارت جوايا تساؤلات لا حصر لها ..
هاروكى عايز ايه بالظبط ؟ عايز يوصّلى ايه ؟ إيه الهدف ؟ إيه الرسالة ؟
تساؤلات بقيت لحد دلوقتى ملهاش إجابة ، واعتقد إنى مش هلاقيلها إجابة ..

second read thoughts: I thought I'd get a better understanding for this story the second time around, but I'm still lost in a world full of questions. I know that's partly the author's intent though! I feel like I'm going to drive myself crazy if I keep trying to make sense of what this book is trying to achieve. I think that's kind of the point though. This book isn't trying to achieve anything, it's one of those books where the reader is left to decide what the book ultimately does. Which makes this an even more interesting experience, because everyone comes out of it with something different.

first read thoughts: This was definitely an interesting read. I feel like I will have to read it again for everything to fully make sense, but I was surprised by how easy this book was to follow. I also loved the writing style! I will definitely be giving more books by Haruki Murakami ago in the future.

بين الواقع و الخيال ، بين عالمنا و عالم الخوارق يوجد خيط رفيع شفاف و قد أتقن موراكامي أن يصل بينهما و يحيك عالما كاملا بقواعده الخاصة.

" يختلط الواقع بالأحلام مثلما تتدفق معاً مياه البحر و الأنهار.. . . "

و كالعادة من الأفضل ألا تعثر علي المنطق في كتابات موراكامي فقط دعه يسبح بك في عالمه الغريب.
" فتفكير بلا جدوي أسوأ من عدم التفكير ."

بالرواية خطين زمنيين يسيران معا يتداخلان و يتفرقان و يكمل كل منهما الاخر:

- فتي في الخامسة عشر يقرر الهروب من بيته و أن يستقل عن ابيه الغريب القاسي ، و ليحاول العثور على امه ، تسير حياته علي خير لفترة ، حتي تبدأ المفاجئات القاسية الغريبة في الهطول عليه.

-رجل عجوز في الستين لديه إعاقة ذهنية و يعيش علي المعونة من البلدية ، و لديه بعض الهوايات الغريبة منها مثلا محادثة القطط ، يعيش حياة بسيطة حتي يصل إلى عتبة بيت رجل سيغير حياته.
و هذا العجوز شخصيتي المفضلة بلا شك

This - along with The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Norwegian Wood, Sputnik Sweetheart and The Rat tetralogy (A Wild Sheep Chase, etc) - was one of my favorite Murakami books. Absurd, funny, and still a bit nostalgic and morose, it is a unique and powerful read including raining fish. For those discovering Murakami, I would read it fourth after the three I already mentioned.
Lovely writing!

Fino's Murakami Reviews - Novels
Hear the Wind Sing (1979/1987-2015)
Pinball, 1973 (1980/1985-2015)
A Wild Sheep Chase (1982/1989)
Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World (1985/1991)
Norwegian Wood (1987/1989-2000)
Dance Dance Dance (1988/1994)
South of the Border, West of the Sun (1992/2000)
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (1995/1997)
Sputnik Sweetheart (1999/2001)
Kafka on the Shore (2002/2005)
After Dark (2004/2007)
1Q84 (2010/2011)
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage (2013/2014)
Killing Commendatore (2017/2018)

Fino's Murakami Reviews - Short Story Collections and Misc
The Elephant Vanishes (1993)
After the Quake (2000/2002)
Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman (2006)
Men Without Women (2014/2017)
First Person Singular (2020/2021)
Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche
What I Talk About When I Talk About Running (2007/2008)

Between Dream and Reality, Haruki Murakami takes us on a journey with Kafka, a fifteen-year-old boy who, abandoned by his mother, fled a father prophesying that, like Oedipus, his son would be guilty of parricide and incest.
His path will cross that of astonishing characters, such as an androgynous librarian, or of Nakata, an older man with a simple mind, speaking the language of cats, with whom he walks on the road to discovering himself- same and its truth.
It is a potent and completely addicting novel about memory, literature, music, nature, death, etc. One finds it expected to see fish fall or hear cats talk.
That's a dreamlike universe for an extraordinary initiatory journey that we would like never to end.