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logolepsy_e's review against another edition
4.0
Riletto quasi dieci anni dopo.
Tornando sulla mia recensione del 2013, mi sono resa conto che pensavo che questo libro all'epoca mi fosse piaciuto, invece l'avevo pressoché massacrato. Chissà perché ha campato nella mia libreria digitale con 4 stelle per tutti questi anni?
Ne ho avuto un ricordo completamente sfasato per anni.
Tornando sulla mia recensione del 2013, mi sono resa conto che pensavo che questo libro all'epoca mi fosse piaciuto, invece l'avevo pressoché massacrato. Chissà perché ha campato nella mia libreria digitale con 4 stelle per tutti questi anni?
Ne ho avuto un ricordo completamente sfasato per anni.
berrycedar's review against another edition
4.0
Absurdities aside, what happened to Nakata's teacher huh? And the doctor?? And her letter??? Goddamn. Whatever happened to Nakata!!!
anneleestwelweenswat's review against another edition
challenging
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
dralyrose's review against another edition
2.5
This one was not for me. No discredit to the author or the quality of the work, but I am definitely not the target audience. Too much Oedipus and not enough world building. I found myself more drawn to the side stories than the main protagonist and spent more time Googling the meaning of the story after to see if I missed something. I mostly just felt icky through most of the story.
lilibuus's review against another edition
challenging
dark
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
mahovina's review against another edition
Such a weird, strange book. I've loved it, as all of Murakami's books.
chamomiledaydreams's review against another edition
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
2.0
This book gets a lot of hype, with plenty of Murakami fans citing it as their favorite of his works. Honestly, though, it was just OK. There are many details that intrigued me and made the story worth reading, but even the bits I adored didn't feel fully fleshed out or satisfying.
Let's tackle Nakata's character, to start. I loved the flashbacks to WWII and the idea of someone who suffered an inexplicable period of unconsciousness in their formative years and woke up completely different. On the one hand, Nakata's an ableist stereotype: He's an asexual old man who cannot read or write and who clumsily refers to himself in the third person (at least, in the English translation).
Yet I found him quite endearing. He often apologizes for being dumb and asking questions, but that underscore his engagement with the world and his dedication to trying his best. Plus, he seems more intentional and profound than many of the other characters, wise and mystical beyond his alleged cognitive abilities. Talking to cats is a major point in his favor, as well, although I was disappointed that it did not remain an ability of his through to the end.
Now let's address Oshima, who is 80% of what I enjoyed in this novel. When those two women begin harassing him in the name of feminism, I flinched away from the page, perplexed by what Murakami was trying to say. His depictions of women never sit right with me, and I was worried that he was dismissing all efforts to attain gender equality. Of course, he wrote two of the worst feminists possible and made their demands outrageous. But why did he feel the need to include such a scene at all?
Then Oshima turns the tables on them by proving that he isn't a typical "patriarchal male," explaining that he was assigned female at birth and going into all sorts of uncomfortable personal information, including his favorite sexual positions and his unconventional puberty. In that moment, Oshima went from a cool librarian that I admired to an explicitly queer character whose presence surprised and pleased me. I appreciate that Murakami and his characters rarely misgender Oshima, and I'm glad that he was a major player in this story.
However, I wasn't a big fan of the protagonist Kafka or his love interest Miss Saeki. She was characterized a bit like Miss Havisham from Charles Dickens' "Great Expectations," except she was much kinder and wiser. Even though Kafka is the crux of this story, I never felt too invested in his personal problems. Yeah, sure, his dad is awful, and it sucks that his mom left when he was young. But I didn't enjoy how the main female characters (Sakura and Miss Saeki) were so fiercely drawn to him, especially because he seemed pretty bland to me. Not to mention the emphasis on Oedipal incest, which understandably made me very uncomfortable. I endured every one of Kafka's chapters in the hopes that Oshima would make an appearance at some point.
"Kafka on the Shore" also features the most viscerally disturbing scene in a Murakami novel that I've read to date. His stories are often sexually explicit and can become violent at times. Honestly, though, the way that he writes violence has never upset me. Those moments are dark, but they're never so immersive that I can't remain comfortably detached from them. Yet I seriously considered skipping the scene that involved cat mutilation, because it made me feel physically ill. At the time, my cat was sitting on my lap and purring, and I felt like I was betraying him somehow by reading such awful descriptions about feline evisceration. I read that chapter as fast as humanly possibly, hoping to get it over with while struggling to decipher its meaning to the rest of the story.
All this to say, there are plenty of details in this novel that I enjoyed. I liked the characters Nakata, Oshima, and even Hoshino. But the main plot of this story, and the constant emphasis on Kafka's teenage angst, never won me over. It's probably just the asexual in me, but how hard can it be not to sleep with your mother and sister? Kafka could stand to take a letter out of Nakata's book.
One final note: Is Nakata's asexuality ableist? I would say so. Nakata himself explains that he "used to be normal ... but something happened," resulting in an "emptiness" that negates any and all desires. He later mentions that, had he "been [his] normal self," he would have followed in his brothers' footsteps and "gotten married and had a family."
But even though Nakata's lack of sexual attraction has supernatural origins and is inexplicably tied to his disability, Murakami isn't consistent with the message that emptiness equals asexuality, as demonstrated when Hoshino reflects that he himself is empty, even more so than Nakata. Hoshino is referring to having a purpose in life and finding meaning in his existence. Nakata has this while Hoshino was not. Thus, we have a presumed allosexual character calling himself empty relative to a confirmed asexual character.
So yes, I do think that making Nakata asexual is rooted in ableism. But I don't think that Murakami villainizes Nakata because of this. In fact, Murakami appears willing to explore different ways of existing in the world, contrasting Nakata's asexual life with Hoshino's allosexual one and ultimately uplifting and celebrating Nakata for his wisdom and pleasant attitude. Nakata is a hero in this story, and while there are several moments that mourn for his lost allosexuality, his story is not diminished because of this. Besides, who's to say that he wouldn't have been asexual no matter what? Given the lack of common knowledge surrounding asexuality (both today and when this book was written), Murakami could have done a lot worse in his depictions of Nakata.
Let's tackle Nakata's character, to start. I loved the flashbacks to WWII and the idea of someone who suffered an inexplicable period of unconsciousness in their formative years and woke up completely different. On the one hand, Nakata's an ableist stereotype: He's an asexual old man who cannot read or write and who clumsily refers to himself in the third person (at least, in the English translation).
Yet I found him quite endearing. He often apologizes for being dumb and asking questions, but that underscore his engagement with the world and his dedication to trying his best. Plus, he seems more intentional and profound than many of the other characters, wise and mystical beyond his alleged cognitive abilities. Talking to cats is a major point in his favor, as well, although I was disappointed that it did not remain an ability of his through to the end.
Now let's address Oshima, who is 80% of what I enjoyed in this novel. When those two women begin harassing him in the name of feminism, I flinched away from the page, perplexed by what Murakami was trying to say. His depictions of women never sit right with me, and I was worried that he was dismissing all efforts to attain gender equality. Of course, he wrote two of the worst feminists possible and made their demands outrageous. But why did he feel the need to include such a scene at all?
Then Oshima turns the tables on them by proving that he isn't a typical "patriarchal male," explaining that he was assigned female at birth and going into all sorts of uncomfortable personal information, including his favorite sexual positions and his unconventional puberty. In that moment, Oshima went from a cool librarian that I admired to an explicitly queer character whose presence surprised and pleased me. I appreciate that Murakami and his characters rarely misgender Oshima, and I'm glad that he was a major player in this story.
However, I wasn't a big fan of the protagonist Kafka or his love interest Miss Saeki. She was characterized a bit like Miss Havisham from Charles Dickens' "Great Expectations," except she was much kinder and wiser. Even though Kafka is the crux of this story, I never felt too invested in his personal problems. Yeah, sure, his dad is awful, and it sucks that his mom left when he was young. But I didn't enjoy how the main female characters (Sakura and Miss Saeki) were so fiercely drawn to him, especially because he seemed pretty bland to me. Not to mention the emphasis on Oedipal incest, which understandably made me very uncomfortable. I endured every one of Kafka's chapters in the hopes that Oshima would make an appearance at some point.
"Kafka on the Shore" also features the most viscerally disturbing scene in a Murakami novel that I've read to date. His stories are often sexually explicit and can become violent at times. Honestly, though, the way that he writes violence has never upset me. Those moments are dark, but they're never so immersive that I can't remain comfortably detached from them. Yet I seriously considered skipping the scene that involved cat mutilation, because it made me feel physically ill. At the time, my cat was sitting on my lap and purring, and I felt like I was betraying him somehow by reading such awful descriptions about feline evisceration. I read that chapter as fast as humanly possibly, hoping to get it over with while struggling to decipher its meaning to the rest of the story.
All this to say, there are plenty of details in this novel that I enjoyed. I liked the characters Nakata, Oshima, and even Hoshino. But the main plot of this story, and the constant emphasis on Kafka's teenage angst, never won me over. It's probably just the asexual in me, but how hard can it be not to sleep with your mother and sister? Kafka could stand to take a letter out of Nakata's book.
One final note: Is Nakata's asexuality ableist? I would say so. Nakata himself explains that he "used to be normal ... but something happened," resulting in an "emptiness" that negates any and all desires. He later mentions that, had he "been [his] normal self," he would have followed in his brothers' footsteps and "gotten married and had a family."
But even though Nakata's lack of sexual attraction has supernatural origins and is inexplicably tied to his disability, Murakami isn't consistent with the message that emptiness equals asexuality, as demonstrated when Hoshino reflects that he himself is empty, even more so than Nakata. Hoshino is referring to having a purpose in life and finding meaning in his existence. Nakata has this while Hoshino was not. Thus, we have a presumed allosexual character calling himself empty relative to a confirmed asexual character.
So yes, I do think that making Nakata asexual is rooted in ableism. But I don't think that Murakami villainizes Nakata because of this. In fact, Murakami appears willing to explore different ways of existing in the world, contrasting Nakata's asexual life with Hoshino's allosexual one and ultimately uplifting and celebrating Nakata for his wisdom and pleasant attitude. Nakata is a hero in this story, and while there are several moments that mourn for his lost allosexuality, his story is not diminished because of this. Besides, who's to say that he wouldn't have been asexual no matter what? Given the lack of common knowledge surrounding asexuality (both today and when this book was written), Murakami could have done a lot worse in his depictions of Nakata.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Adult/minor relationship, Animal cruelty, Animal death, and Incest
Moderate: Abandonment, Ableism, and Acephobia/Arophobia
buguidugui's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
tomastafollat2's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
4.5