A runaway boy who names himself Kafka; an incident from WW2 involving a group of children in the mountains suddenly losing consciousness; and a man who can talk to cats. The book takes these tangled threads and weaves a story of intrigue. 

Murakami uses dialogue, interesting characters, and bizarre story twists to keep the story moving. And boy does the story move. It's as well-paced as any novel I've read. The twists turn and the turns twist in such a way that makes you want to keep going from page to page. I don't think it's the deepest Murakami book or the most entertaining, but both depth and entertainment are there in good quantities. 

As always, Murakami assembles his loveable loser's club. They are strange, they are quirky, flawed, but they are also so damned likable. The likable losers. 

And of course, a hard strain of anti-fascism runs throughout the book. 

As one of those lovable losers, Oshima, says, "Cause if you take every single person who lacks much imagination seriously, there's no end to it...Narrow minds devoid of imagination. Intolerance, theories cut off from reality, empty terminology, usurped ideals, inflexible systems." Murakami struggles with the same question as me: How do we fight evil? Why is the fascist tendency so persistent? How can the losers be made into winners?

As 2017 draws to a close, I'm glad that I got to finish it out with such a fantastic book. One that I've now had the pleasure of reading twice.

شوف يا موراكامي يا ابني .. أنا مش فاهم انت بتقول إيه ..
بس أنا موافق ✋

موراكامي موراكامي موراكامي
هذا اللعين، العجيب، هذا الرجل المجنون. مجنون فقط؟ لا أظن
لعل أصدق وصف قرأته لهذا الرجل هو وصف صديقي شادي، أنه رجل: "حشّاش" حقًا، لا يمكن لرجل طبيعي أن يكتب مثل هذا العمل. هل صنعه موراكامي، أن أن الرواية هي من صنعته؟
طوال 600 صفحة ويزيد، كنت أشعر بحالة عجيبة للغاية
ما هذا؟ هل هذا الشيء واقعي حقًا؟ قطط تتكلم، صخور تتهامس، عالم موازي، سماء تمطر علقًا وأسماكًا، شخصيات حقيقية، لا تدرك إن كانت حقيقية أم أنه مجرد وهم!
أصابتني الحيرة الشديدة أثناء القراءة، لم أستطع أن أصدق ما أقرأ
ماذا جرى، ما علاقة هذا بذاك، ما الحقيقة وما الحلم لا أدري، ومن الجيد ألا ندري
فما النفع من محاولة عقلنة اللاعقلاني؟ ومن محاولة محاسبة اللاواقعية على أساس واقعنا؟
طوال قراءتي للرواية ظللت أسائل نفسي تلك الأسئلة
(سبويلر آلرت وكدهو):
نأتي للرواية إذن
تبدأ الرواية بمشهد الطفل، كافكا تامورا، هذا الصبي المشاغب الشقي، الذي يأبى أن يتم عامه الخامس عشر إلا وأن يكون خارج سلطة أبيه، تامورا، أو جون واكر، سمه ما شئت
وأمّا المسار التاني، فهو الرجل العجوز الكهل، ناكاتا، الصبي المثلوم، العجوز الرقيق ، والغبي، الذي يحادث القطط، فاقد الذاكرة منذ طفولته نتيجة للغزو الأمريكي، هل كان غزوًا حقًا؟ لا تسأل!
ومسار آخر، هو شبه هلامي، تجده في بداية الرواية ولكن سرعان ما يختفي، هو سرد التحقيقات التي قامت بها الحكومة اليابانية للمسألة، وتأتي أحداثها ضمن تحقيقات الشرطة مع الطلاب والأساتذة، أملًا في درك الحقيقة
ومن هنا تبدأ ألاعيب موراكامي، ذلك المجنون العبقري، الذي أعتبره أكثر من مجرد روائي فذ، هو بالإضافة لذلك أكثرهم عبقرية وشرًا، وهو كذلك أمتعهم.
يأتي الجزء الصلب في الرواية، أو الجزء الفلسفي فيها، سمه ما شئت
فتجده يحدثك عن هيجل، وماركس
وعن فلسفة هيجل المثالية تلك، وعن منطقه اللوذعي الجدلي، الذي يفصل بين المجاز وبين الواقع، ومتى يكون الواقع مجازًا ومتى يصبح المجاز واقع. يحدثك عن تاريخ اليابان العسكري، وعن هزيمتها وانتكاستها، إن لم تكن الحربية، فقل الثقافية.
يحدثك عن الموسيقى والأدب، والشعر؛ شعر الهايكو بالطبع، الأشهر على الإطلاق، إن لم يكن في العالم كله، ففي اليابان وآسيا بشكل أخص.
يحدثك عن الموسيقى، وعن الفن، وعن تاريخهما: بيتهوفن وكبرياءه، فاجنر وتعاليه، وليستز وعبقريته.
يحدثك عن الجاز، موسيقى الجاز بالطبع، وعن البوب، وعن كل أصناف الفن الرائج آنذاك.
يحدثك عن صراع اليابان الثقافي، أو قل، الاستعمار الثقافي الأمريكي لليابان.
وفي وسط كل ذلك، يحدثك عن الكتب والمكتبات، وهي مستودع كل ما سبق!
يصوغ لك ها هنا موراكامي، بعبقريته، عالمًا فانتازيًا خياليًا لا شك أنه مرهق، ولا شك من أنه عبقري كذلك. يضعك موراكامي في ثنائية طوال الرواية، وتجد نفسك مفقودًا بين ناكاتا وكافكا طوال الرواية.
يحدثك عن هذا الصبي ملعون أبيه، وعن اللعنة التي حلت به
ويحدثك عن ناكاتا ذاك، الذي تولى مهمة قتل الأب عوضًا عنه
يحدثك عن حجر المدخل ذاك، مدخل ماذا؟ مدخل عالم الخيال، هذا الذي اخترقته الآنسة ساييكي من قبل، واخترقه من بعد كافكا تامورا نفسه.
وعن ناكاتا الذي ضلع هو بمهمة غلق هذا المدخل إنقاذً اللعالم، لتنتهي مهمته بذلك ويعود لعالمه الآخر، حيث لا يكون - على حد تعبيره هو - خاويًا، غبيًا.
رواية غرائبية، فانتازية لدرجة بعيدة، لا تخطر على بالك أصلًا أن هذا خيال، هل هذا خيال حقًا؟ حيال بشري محدود؟ أشك.
لا ينكر أحد - إلا مجحف - عبقرية موراكامي، ولا ينكر أحد كذلك - إلا مدع - سفالته كذلك :D
هي، كما قالت القارئة سلمى، رواية غير محتشمة أبدًا، لكنها مع ذلك رواية بديعة رهيبة، لا تشعر أنك سليم العقل حقًا بعد إنهاءها.
وهذا هو المنوط بالكاتب، أي كاتب، أن يصيبك بالدهشة، بل والرهبة أحيانًا من مدى عبقريته.
كما قلت، بعض التفاصيل جاءت غرائبية أكثر من اللازم، وليس من المفترض بنا محاولة تفسيرها، فتفسير الخيال اعتمادًا على الواقع لن يقودك لشيء، لكنه مع ذلك سوف يضلك، ومحاولة عقلنة الغير عقلاني محاولة غير مجدية.
فقط، اترك عقلك خارجًا، واسبح مع هذا الموراكامي، وعالمه البديع.
يجدر بنا ألّا ننسى الإشادة بترجمة السيدة إيمان، شكرًا إيمان حزر/رزق الله، لولاها لما كنت استمتعت بقراءة الرواية بهذا الشكل. الترجمة منضبطة للغاية، وبديعة ورائعة، تشعرك بأنك أمام نص عربي أصيل لا نص مترجم، فلها منّا جزيل الشكر والعرفان.
شكر للصديق أبا نواف، لتصويره الكتاب، ولتصويره آلاف الكتب غيره

Real Rating: 2.5* of five

Well. Now then. The legions of Harukistas are gonna hate me for this. I don't like this book too awful terrible much because I found the magical/psychic bits random (why now? why not? doesn't work for me) and underdeveloped (especially the talking cats...how, when, why never addressed to my satisfaction) and the life of Kafka himself peculiarly un-teenaged too often for me to suspend disbelief.

I don't know how all the folks who don't read Japanese come to judge the writing. You're reading a translation. If you don't read the source language you have no way to know if the translation is good, ie faithful to the source material. I will say there are lots of quotable quotes in the book. I have come to expect that of Murakami books, and I wasn't disappointed in the quality of the aphorisms and images found here.

But on the whole, I think not.

“What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow.”
Kafka on the Shore ~~  Haruki Murakami



There are few writers ~~ very few writers, whose worlds I love to inhabit. Woolf is one of them; so too is Joyce, Chekhov another, as are Dickens, Twain, Proust and Tolstoy. I can now add to that list,  Haruki Murakami.

As I've stated before, I was late to the the Murakami banquet, but once I arrived I was treated to a magnificent feast, and now I have been treated to the main course  KAFKA ON THE SHORE. Kafka is one of the most delicious meals I have ever been served. If I could, I would give this magnificent book ten stars.

KAFKA ON THE SHORE is a nearly perfect novel.



KAFKA ON THE SHORE is a beautifully told story about needing to let go and step out of your own reality in order to find out that life is meant to be lived. Leading us on the journey of self-discovery is fifteen-year-old Kafka Tamura. We join Kafka on his journey from runaway to enlightened being. Our other guide is Mr. Nakata, who lives half in this world and half in a world not of his choosing. At the same time, we meet a whole lot of other people who lack self-awareness, living on the fringe of society ~~ and what a colorful cast of characters it is. There is Oshima, who lives on the edge of genders. We meet Hoshino, whose eyes are opened to what he can be thru his interactions with Mr. Nakata, and who escapes his dead end reality and grows into a new one. And lastly, Miss Saeki who has chosen to live in the past more than the present.



KAFKA ON THE SHORE is a profoundly spiritual exploration of life, who we love, and the choices we make in life. Murakami introduces us to Zen and Buddhist philosophies, with a little Hinduism thrown in for good measure. KAFKA ON THE SHORE would make a terrific companion piece to Thomas Merton’s Zen and the Birds of Appetite and The Wisdom of the Desert.



There is much to love in KAFKA ON THE SHORE. Like most brilliant pieces of literature, it was difficult to leave the world Murakami created. KAFKA ON THE SHORE will resonate with me for years to come. Rarely has a book satisfied me on so many levels.

Is Your Figure Less Than Greek?

Early in "Kafka on the Shore”, the 15 year old narrator, Kafka Tamura, warns us that his story is not a fairy tale. The book's title is also the name of a painting and of a song mentioned in the novel, and it describes the one photo Kafka's father has kept in his drawer. But what Kafka neglects to tell us is that his story is a myth of epic, ancient Greek proportions.

Murakami has concocted a contemporary blend of Oedipus and Orpheus, East and West, Freud and Jung, Hegel and Marx, Tales of Genji and Arabian Nights, Shinto and Buddhism, abstraction and action, alternating narratives and parallel worlds, seriousness and play, not to mention classical, jazz and pop music.

Conceived as a sequel to "Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World”, it quickly took on a life of its own, and now sits somewhere between that work and "1Q84”.

If you had to identify Murakami’s principal concerns as a writer, I would venture two: the transition from adolescence to adulthood, and the dynamic encounter between consciousness (the ego) and the subconscious (the id).

There are elements of both in "Kafka” . Thus, it stands as quintessential Murakami.




The book I read.


Search for the Other Half

Like Greek theatrical masks that represent tragedy and comedy, life consists of dualities: "Light and dark. Hope and despair. Laughter and sadness. Trust and loneliness.”

As hypothesised by Aristophanes via Plato, each individual is half what it once was apart, perhaps, from the character, Oshima. Our shadow is faint or pale. Murakami urges:

"You should start searching for the other half of your shadow.”

Beware of Darkness

Only, it’s easier said than done. We’re all "like some little kid afraid of the silence and the dark.”

We are "seeking and running at the same time.”

As in fairy tales, friends warn Kafka not to venture too far into the woods.

The irony is that the darkness is not so much outside, but inside. It’s in our subconscious. What terrifies us is "the inner darkness of the soul…the correlation between darkness and our subconscious”.

The woods, the forest are just a symbol of darkness, our own darkness.

In Dreams Begin Responsibility

While we’re awake, while we’re conscious, we think we’re rational, we’re in control, we can manage what happens around us.

However, we fear dreams, because we can’t control and manage them. By extension, we’re also skeptical of the imagination, because it is more analogous to dreaming than thinking.

Yet, we need our imagination almost as much as our logic. Murakami quotes Yeats:

"In dreams begin responsibility.”

It’s in this quandary that Kafka finds himself. It’s problematical enough for an adult, let alone a 15 year old who has lost contact with his mother and older sister at the age of four, and has now run away from his father:

"You're afraid of imagination. And even more afraid of dreams. Afraid of the responsibility that begins in dreams. But you have to sleep, and dreams are a part of sleep. When you're awake you can suppress imagination. But you can't suppress dreams.”

For the Time Being

As would befit a Greek tragedy, Kafka’s father, a renowned sculptor, has prophesied:

"Some day you will murder your father and be with your mother…and your sister.”

This is the Oedipus myth, at once a curse and a challenge for Kafka:

"You're standing right up to the real world and confronting it head-on.”

We can only stand by and watch. What is happening? Does it really happen? Does it only happen in the labyrinth of Kafka’s imagination? Is the boy called Crow Kafka’s friend or his soul? Murakami mentions that "Kafka" is the Czech word for "crow", although apparently the Czech word "kavka" actually means "jackdaw". Is the old man Nakata a real person or his alter ego?

If Kafka can only prevail, he will become an adult. If nothing bad happens to him, he’ll emerge part of a brand new world.

It’s not enough for Kafka to spend the time being. He must act.

Reason to Act

Of course, there is a cast of surreal cats, crows and characters who contribute to the colour and dynamic of the novel.

One of my favourites is a Hegel-quoting whore (a philosophy student who might both feature in and read the novels of Bill Vollmann!), who counsels:

"What you need to do is move from reason that observes to reason that acts."

Although the protagonists of Murakami's novels are youthful, if not always adolescent, they are rarely in a state of stasis or arrested development. They're always endeavouring to come to terms with the past and embrace the future:

"The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future."

We observe them when their lives are most challenging and dynamic, in short, when they're trying to find and define themselves:

"Every object's in flux. The earth, time, concepts, love, life, faith, justice, evil - they're all fluid and in transition. They don't stay in one form or in one place for ever."




My photo of the artwork on a power box I pass every day on my walk.


If I Run Away, Will My Imagination Run Away With Me, Too?

Murakami’s ideas about imagination, dreams and responsibility are fleshed out in a scene that adverts to the Nazi Adolf Eichmann.

The character Johnnie Walker who might be the negative side of Kafka’s father kills cats, so that he can turn them into flutes. He challenges Nakata a stand-in for Kafka? to kill him to save the cats. Nakata now has a moral dilemma as to whether to kill a person to save the lives of others albeit cats.

Eichmann was the builder rather than the architect behind the design of the Holocaust. He was an officious conformist who lived and worked routinely without imagination. Hannah Arendt would describe him and his capacity for evil in terms of its banality. Others would call him a “Schreibtischmörder” or “desk murderer”.

In Murakami’s eyes, responsibility is part morality, but it also reflects an empathy with others, a transcendence of the self. Eichmann was too selfish and too conformist to empathise with the Jews he was trying to exterminate.

A Catastrophe is Averted by Sheer Imagination

After an accident in World War II, Nakata realised that he could talk to cats. Ultimately, he empathised with them enough to kill Johnnie Walker.

In Shinto, cats might be important in their own right. However, Murakami frequently uses cats in his fiction. Perhaps they represent other people in society, people we mightn't normally associate with or talk to, In which case cats might symbolise the underdog? but who watch over us and might perhaps be wiser than us, if only we would give them credit?

Murakami also criticised two women bureaucrats who visited the library for their officious presumption and lack of imagination, albeit in a good cause.

For Murakami, the imagination is vital to completing the self, bonding society and oiling the mechanisms by which it works, but it is also an arena within which the psychodrama of everyday life plays out and resolves.

Inside the Storm

So what can I tell you about Kafka’s fate? Only what Murakami tells us on page 3:

"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...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...There's no sun..., no moon, no direction, no sense of time…[in] that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm…

"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.”

Unless you’re a total Murakami sceptic, when you close this book for the last time, you too won’t be the same person who walked in.




http://www.deviantart.com/fanart/?vie...


VERSE:

Kafka in the Rye (Or Catcher on the Shore)

Kafka sees a ghost,
One he’ll soon love most,
Somehow he has learned
She has just returned
Home from sailing by
Seven seas of Rhye.
If only Kafka
Could one day catch her,
Dressed, in the rye or,
What he’d like much more,
How his heart would soar,
Catch her on the shore,
Idly walking by,
Naked to the eye.

Swept Away
[In the Words of Murakami]

I am swept away,
Whether I like it or not,
To that place and time.

Where There Are Dreams
[In the Words of Murakami]

The earth moves slowly.
Beyond details of the real,
We live our dreams.

Metaphysician, Heal Thyself
[In the Words of Murakami]

You can heal yourself.
The past is a shattered plate
That can't be repaired.

The Burning of Miss Saeki's Manuscript
[In the Words of Murakami]

Shape and form have gone.
The amount of nothingness
Has just been increased.

Look at the Painting, Listen to the Wind
[In the Words of Murakami]

You did the right thing.
You're part of a brand new world.
Nothing bad happened to you.





SOUNDTRACK:

Strummer - "Kafka on the Shore"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7iM2z...

Prince - "Little Red Corvette"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDduq...

Prince - "Sexy Motherfucker"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1d2Vb...

R.E.M. - "I Don't Sleep, I Dream"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WReb...

Cream - "Crossroads"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-6OW...

Cream - "Crossroads" [Live]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8OLK_...

Cream - "Crossroads" [Live at the Royal Albert Hall 2005]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pX6J5...

The Beatles - "Hello Goodbye"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkH3P...

Otis Redding - Sitting on the Dock of the Bay

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCmUh...

Duke Ellington - "The Star-Crossed Lovers"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bg4MP...

Johnny Hodges on Alto Sax

John Coltrane - "My Favorite Things"t

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWG2d...

Stan Getz - "Getz/Gilberto"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KpIV...

Richard Rodgers & Oscar Hammerstein II - "Edelweiss"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYSw0...

Frank Churchill & Larry Moery - "Heigh-Ho"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzjXR...

Puccini - "Si, mi chiamano Mimi" from "La Boheme" [Marija Vidovic]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jDc0v...

Mozart - "Serenade in D major, K. 320 "Posthorn" [Mackerras]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MS5YC...

Haydn - Cello Concerto in C Major [Han-na Chang]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8uCT...

Franz Schubert - "Piano Sonata in D major"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mh6ax...

Beethoven - "Piano Trio No.7 in B Flat Major, Op.97" ["Archduke Trio"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWPdl...

Kashfi Fahim - "Life in Technicolor"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=go_Z1...

A short film that features the sandstorm quote.

One could complain that the prose is often clichéd and inelegant, or that the dialogue is awkward and unrealistic, or that the frequent, non sequitur references to sex are unnecessary and cringe-inducing (please, let’s avoid the repeated use of the phrase, “my rock-hard cock”), yet somehow all of these things lend a certain innocent charm to Murakami’s writing. Kafka on the Shore is a bizarre, constantly unpredictable novel about searching for identity and for connection, about losing and finding oneself, and about the ways in which others help us to discover who we are, for better or for worse. These themes are explored with extreme creativity and imagination, and freedom from the constraints of realism and explanation, and this allows the reader to freely associate and form similarly unbounded connections between the narrative elements . The overall impression is more of a poem than a novel: its meaning is loose and wide open to interpretation. The brilliance of the novel is in Murakami’s ability to incorporate such weighty ideas into an accessible package, and to make this strange and abstract piece of surrealist fiction such a page-turner.

اینقدر که کتابش رو دوست داشتم یکدفعه که تموم شد واقا دلم خواست به جای نوشتن با موبایل , لپ تاپم رو روشن کنم و به یاد قدیما که خیلی چیزا مینوشتم , با انگشت هام ریویو رو تایپ کنم ... یک جایی توی آپدیت های دیشب گفتم یک جور بیماری هیجان هراسی دارم :)) خنده ی حضار ! :)) برای همین خیلی طول کشید تا این کتاب پرهیجان رو تمومش کنم چون هروقت به نقطه ی اوج میرسید من میذاشتمش کنار و تپش قلب میگرفتم :)) باز هم خنده ی حضار :)) خلاصه به هر سختی ای بود به این بیماری غلبه کردم و این اثر خاص موراکامی رو هم تمومش کردم ....

تعریف شخصی من از کتاب : خیلی جاهای کتاب اصلا نمیشد حدس زد اتفاق بعدی چی میتونه باشه یا این دو شخصیت موازی داستان کجا به هم میرسن , در واقع موراکامی ذهن من یکی رو خیلی خوب بازی داد چون اصلا هیچ کجای کتاب مطابق حدس من پیش نرفت ! حتی آخرش که منتظر خیلی چیزها بودم که نشد ! و تقریبا عجیب و یا حتی برعکس روند رمان , کمی ساده تر تمومش کرد جوری که آدم با خودش میگفت با این همه دردسر اخرش این شد ؟! اصلا چرا شد ؟! از این نظر کتاب خاصی بود و به قول دوستان حس هفتمم داشته باشی نمیتونی حدسم بزنی داستان تو رو به کجا میبره و این واقعا برای من درست از آب در اومد ... به نظرم کسی که مثل من موراکامی رو دوست داشته باشه و بدونه موراکامی اجازه میده قلمش برای خودش بلغزه و پیش بره در حالیکه واقعا نقشه ی ذهنی خاصی برای متن داستان نداره , تنها کسانی که این رو بدونن میتونن 607 صفحه از کتاب رو بخونن و در آخر نگن آخیش تموم شد ! در عوض از تموم شدنش لذت ببرن و حس رفع وظیفه نداشته باشن و ...

نقد : یک جاهایی زیادی همه چیز تخصصی میشد ! موسیقی و سبک هاش و نوازندگان یا کلمات نا آشنای تخصصی و اسم های شخصیت های کتاب های مختلف و نویسنده هاشون که هرچند قابل تحمل بود و رنگی به روند کتاب میداد ولی گاهی از خودم میپرسم این اضافات و اظهار فضل ها نبود چی از کتاب میمونست ؟ شاید یه چهارصد پانصد صفحه یا کمتر ... هرچند جدای از نقد این قسمت , برای یک شخص واقعا کتاب خون این بخش هم زیاد آزار دهنده نیست و به چشم اضافه شدن چیزی به معلوماتش دیده و خوانده میشه ...

لپ کلام : به لیست کتاب های مورد علاقم اضافه شد , دلیل اولم اینکه موراکامی عزیزم نوشتتش , دم اینکه جدای از تعصب سر اسم موراکامی , کتاب جذابی بود و تونستم در کنارش کمی مرض هیجان گریزیم رو هرچند خیلی کم , ولی همونقدر محسوس کنار بگذارم و کتاب رو به اتمام برسونم ... پیشنهاد میکنم اگر حال و حوصله ی یک کتاب نسبتا قطور تقریبا هیجان انگیز که اصلا طبق حدس های شما پیش نمیره و دارای یک سبک خاص هست رو دارید حتما بخونیدش و مثل من کند هم پیش نرید , یک ضرب بخونید تا مزه اش رو یکدفعه حس کنید و تپش قلب بگیرید ...

تاني تجربة ليا مع موراكمي بعد 1Q84 بس أول مرة اكتب review عن تجربتي معاه. معتقدش إني حكتب حاجة جديدة عن اللي غيري كتبها بس هي رواية مميزة غريبة سحبتني معاها في عالم غريب ٥ ايام استمتعت فيهم جداً بوصف الأحداث و عالم الرواية و رمزيتها و أساطيرها.

حبيت نكاتا جداً و طيبته و عفويته و حسيت بحيرة كافكا و اندفاعه في الحياة مع خوفه من المجهول و مصير نبوءة أبوه.

الاقتباس ده اعتقد موراكمي يقصد بيه حالنا بعد الانتهاء من الرواية أو "العاصفة"

"ولحظة انتهاء العاصفة ، لن تتذكر كيف نجوت منها ، لن تتذكر كيف تدبرت أمرك لتنجو ، ولن تدرك هل انتهت العاصفة أم لا . ستكون متيقنا من أمر واحد فقط : حين تخرج من العاصفة ، لن تعود الشخص نفسه الذي دخلها ، ولهذا السبب وحده ، كانت العاصفه"

و دي مجموعة illustrations عحبتني

















#world_literature_challenge
#Japanese_literature

Nu sînt un „harukist”, așa încît nu-mi pierd cumpătul cînd recitesc un roman de Murakami. Kafka pe malul mării e un fantasy amuzant și, uneori, comic. Personajele sar dintr-o realitate într-alta, coboară viforos în trecut, vizitează lumi paralele, deschid și închid porți cosmice etc. Totul ar fi aproape OK. Oricît de confuză, acțiunea rămîne acțiune. Ceea ce nu reușește Murakami cu nici un chip, printre altele, este să compună o descriere erotică valabilă. I-aș fi dat negreșit premiul Bad sex in fiction, chiar dacă acest roman, au decis criticii de la Kirkus Reviews (în 1 decembrie 2004), „valorează cît un premiu Nobel”: „A masterpiece, entirely Nobel-worthy”.

Să citim, mai întîi, o introducere anatomică. A plouat, Kafka iese gol în ploaie și se bucură de șuvoaiele de apă. Întors în cabana din Kochi, își admiră anatomia: „Mă aşez apoi pe pat şi îmi privesc penisul sănătos, deschis la culoare, cu glandul de-abia dezvelit... Încă mai simt în gland durerea de la stropii de ploaie. Privesc un timp îndelungat acest organ straniu, care îmi aparţine, dar care nu se supune niciodată voinţei mele şi care pare să gîndească de unul singur”. Asta e o înțelepciune din bătrîni: penisul lucrează de capul lui. Pe cînd se află în cel mai pur extraz autocontemplativ, Kafka Tamura e surprins de Oshima, femeia-bărbat-androgin și se rușinează: „Dezbrăcat, aşa, în faţa lui Oshima, simt că mi se pune un nod în gît. Părul pubian, penisul, testiculele mele sînt luminate de raze. Arată foarte fragile şi lipsite de apărare”. Desigur: multor cititori le vor da lacrimile...

Sărim cîteva capitole. De data asta e noapte. Acum penisul și testiculele tînărului de 15 ani nu mai sînt luminate de raze, se odihnesc în întuneric. În cămăruța lui de la Biblioteca Memorială Komura, sosește tulburătoarea doamnă Saeki (una din versiunile ei), de care Kafka e foarte îndrăgostit. Se întîmplă inevitabilul (naratorul trece la persoana a III-a): „Te sărută pe gît de nenumărate ori şi îţi apucă penisul în mînă, deja în erecţie şi tare ca o piatră. Îţi prinde uşor testiculele în palmă şi, fără să rostească un cuvînt, îţi conduce mîna către părul ei pubian. Sexul ei este fierbinte şi umed...”.

Trec peste întîlnirea lui Hoshino cu o femeie de o abilitate erotică ieșită din comun, specialistă în Bergson și Hegel din care citează cu voluptate. Efectul e instantaneu: „Fata l-a dus în pat, l-a mîngîiat pe tot corpul cu degetele şi cu limba, provocîndu-i din nou o erecţie puternică, fermă şi dreaptă ca turnul din Pisa în aşteptarea carnavalului”. Comparația cu turnul din Pisa a fost o glumă, pesemne...

Acest roman e scris de un japonez, dar personajele nu au nici o identitate precisă, par niște androizi aseptici, școliți de specialiștii de la MIT. Se deplasează cu mașini Volkswagen Gold, beau bere (în nici un caz sake), citează din tragediile lui Euripide şi ale lui Eschil, din Goethe și Tolstoi, din poemele lui T.S. Eliot și W.B. Yeats („în vis începe responsabilitatea”), ascultă Haydn, Schubert, Beethoven, jazz și rock, mănîncă multă pîine, ceea ce în Japonia e rarissim. Acțiunea romanului se poate desfășura oriunde pe glob.

Există, desigur, și un „morosophos”, un nebun-înțelept, bătrînul Satoru Nakata, „detectivul de pisici”. El este singurul care poate mîntui lumea de rău (care, aici, se numește Johnnie Walker), dar are nevoie de ajutorul și mușchii lui Hoshino pentru a răsturna „piatra de intrare” și a distruge „alienul” răului care iese pe gura defunctului Nakata, într-o scenă de un grotesc apăsat. Piatra e imposibil de grea, dar Hoshino reușește s-o ridice: „Mintea i s-a golit şi a simţit că îi plesnesc muşchii. Se aştepta să-şi vadă testiculele rostogolindu-se pe podea, dar nu a lăsat piatra din mîini”.

Într-un cuvînt, a salvat lumea și, ca bonus, și-a păstrat și testiculele...

P. S. În limba cehă, „Kafka” nu înseamnă corb, cum pretinde autorul, ci stăncuță (corvus monedula).

P. P. S. Firește că nu m-am prins de „subtilitățile” romanului, nu posed atîta istețime. Prin urmare, n-am auzit de mitul lui Oedip (rescris aici de autor), nici de Bildungsroman, nici de aventurile inițiatice și n-am descifrat aluziile intertextuale. Nu am mintea atît de încăpătoare. Cartea de față mi-a adus însă aminte de Aventurile lui Huckleberry Finn.

„Кафка на плажа“ е невероятен роман, който напълно ме заплени! Веднага се нареди сред най-любимите ми книги на Мураками... Авторът е истински майстор в паралелното изграждане на отделни сюжетни линии, които постепенно се навързват в една чудесна цялостна история. „Кафка на плажа“ съдържа много вълнуваща мистична атмосфера, силни метафори и разбира се - страхотни музикални препоръки!

Главни герои в двата сюжета са съответно 15-годишният Кафка Тамура и чудноватият старец Наката. Кафка бяга от дома си и от своя баща, пътувайки с автобус към далечен и непознат за него град. Съдбата го отвежда към красива библиотека, където известно време живее и работи, както и го среща с много интересни личности. След като става ясно, че полицията го търси, идиличният живот за младежа свършва, като още опасности тепърва предстоят...

Наката е смятан от обществото за слабоумен, тъй като в далечиното си минало е претърпял тайнствена злополука, заради която е загубил способността си да чете и пише. За сметка на това, той е открил, че вече притежава дарбата да умее да говори с котките. Наката в последно време се занимава с издирването на изгубени котки срещу скромно заплащане, като при търсенето на една такава котка се случват загадъчни събития. Впоследствие старецът се въвлича в доста странно и опасно, но и изключително важно приключение...






„Разгръщам ги една по една и от страниците им лъхва мирис на отминали времена — особеният дъх на познанието и страстите, кротко спящи години наред между кориците. Вдишвайки го, преглеждам бегло по няколко страници от всяка книга, преди да я върна на мястото й.“


„Ние, хората, сме безкрайно самотни на този свят, но тези спомени ме убеждават в правотата на твърдението Ви, че всички сме свързани в едно цяло от една изначална памет.“


„— Значи ти хареса песента?
— Да, много.
— И аз много я харесвам. Красива и същевременно уникална. Простичка, но и проникновена. Говори ти много за човека, който я е съчинил.
— Текстът обаче е, как да кажа… в него има доста символика — отбелязвам.
— От незапомнени времена символиката и поезията са неразделни. Като пиратите и рома.“


„Някъде, неизвестно къде, нещо странно се е случило с времето и затова действителността и сънищата са се смесили като морска и речна вода. Опитвам се да разбера смисъла на всичко това, но не стигам до разумно обяснение.“


„— Във всеки случай с тази твоя хипотеза хвърляш камък по мишена, която е много далече. Разбираш ли?
Кимвам.
— Разбирам. Но е достатъчна и една метафора, за да се намали разстоянието.
— Само че ние не сме метафори.
— Така е. Но метафорите ни помагат да премахнем онова, което ни дели.“


„Сякаш тласкан от пулсациите на огромно сърце, продължавам да вървя през гората и все повече се приближавам към едно особено кътче в душата си, откъдето се лее пронизваща мрака светлина и се долавят беззвучни гърмежи. Искам да го видя със собствените си очи. Нося важно, запечатано, поверително, тайно послание до самия себе си.“


„Имам чувството, че са ни пратили да изпробваме влакче в увеселителен парк. — Хошино млъкна и се замисли как да продължи. — Но знаеш ли, дядо?
— Какво?
— Най-удивителното от всичко това беше ти, Наката-сан. След дните, прекарани с теб, станах друг човек. Как да кажа… взех да гледам с други очи на света. Започнаха да ме вълнуват неща, на които никога преди не съм обръщал особено внимание. Музиката например — музиката, която по-рано намирах за отегчителна, сега ми харесва.“

كافكا على الشاطئ

كل من قرأ هذه الرواية وقع في ذات الحيرة، ووصل إلى ذات النهاية، فهو إما خرج مبهوراً بأجوائها وإن لم يفهم ما الذي حدث؟ وكيف حدث؟ - فالروايات لا تقدم تفسير لغرائبيتها -، أو خرج غاضباً ممتعضاً من كل هذه الغرائبية، كارهاً للرواية ولشخوصها.

هذا كله يطرح مسألة الغرائبية والرمزية المكثفة في الأدب، هل هي عبثية؟ بحيث يشكل العبث ذاته موقف من الحياة والمجتمع؟ أم أنها تستخدم كرمز لموقف فلسفي أو سياسي؟ في كافكا على الشاطئ لدينا الكثير من الرموز المنثورة، ولدينا غرائبية تركت لتفسيرات القارئ.

ما يفعله موراكامي في روايته هذه هو اللعب على الثنائيات، لدينا ثنائية الصبي كافكا تامورا / العجوز ناكاتا، الصبي هارب / والعجوز باحث، كافكا مشتبه به في جريمة قتل / وناكاتا يشك أنه ارتكب جريمة قتل، الصبي قارئ / والعجوز لا يعرف القراءة والكتابة – بسبب حادثة أثرت عليه في طفولته وأفقدته الذاكرة -.

يوجد كذلك أسماك تهطل من السماء، وقطط تتحدث، والكولونيل ساندرس كموجه ومحرك للأحداث، وعاهرة تتحدث عن الفلاسفة، وغابة غريبة، وجنود من الحرب العالمية، كل ما يمكن أن يدير رأس القارئ ويحيره، وكما يقول موراكامي في مقابلة معه، أن القارئ يمكنه أن يخرج بتفسير لو قرأ الرواية أكثر من مرة، هذا غير الحاجة إلى قراءة أعمال موراكامي الأسبق.