A review by bibliorey
South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami

4.0

“the sad truth is that certain types of things can’t go backward. once they start going forward, no matter what you do, they can’t go back the way they were. if even one little thing goes awry, then that’s how it will stay forever.”

someone i used to know recommended me this book once. but at the time i thought “soon”. perhaps it was a sign then that i would read this book when the time is finally right for me. when i’m not simply biased by the fact that someone who once meant so much to me loves the book so much that i too would end up loving the book because of it. though i dread the notion of your essence touching me once more—even so superficially—i will not be you. so for this, i have to thank you, stranger.

this book is now special to me because of how close it hits home. this book breaks me into pieces and yet excite me simultaneously. no matter how controversial the topics murakami chose to discuss in his books (cheating in this case), his atmospherically beautiful writing never fails to capture the beauty of the human nature and all its flaws at the very same time. philip gabriel has done murakami’s writing the best justice there possibly could be with such charming translations that encapsulates the beauty of translated work.

as an only child myself, i find bits and pieces of myself in hajime and shimamoto. there were parts of us that are eerily similar and yet the other half of it are completely different. people often has this notion that us only childs are all the same—spoiled and privileged most often—but i can assure you we are inevitably divergent.

it was easy to get into the book and yet hard at the same time. hajime and shimamoto’s relationship made me question my own morality almost because of how perfect they were and yet how wrong. they are indeed star-crossed lovers but then again—this is where it hits home. i wouldn’t tell you what specific part of it that hits home to me because then i’ll possibly unconsciously spoil you which is something that we’re trying to avoid here but let’s just end this by saying that murakami’s works has always made me feel conflicted and perhaps will continue to do so.

☕️