Happy Tuesday to all.
I came after some delay.
It was natural. I was reading Murakami.
He writes long books.
I read , Norwegian Wood.
On a gentle look, It is a weired book.
A marginalised confused youth, who speaks very less and drinks a lot.
And it is a dark book. Sadness soaks it to deep and if you leave its red cover out it is totally devoid of light.
Protagonists fall for each other but never to synchronise.
What they like is there for them but they cannot have it.
They just cannot get normal.
Even if they walk on beautiful winter morning, cicads crush under their feet.
Just on exterior it is a bony book. Too hard to enjoy and cobtinue but still you keep going reading it, just for unexpected flairs it exudes.
What makes it beautiful is that Murakami has wrapped it in white soft silk of his prose which softerns its sharp edges , so that it does become harmless to reader.
It is full of alcohal, insomnia, lonliness, letters, longing, graphic intimacy, music and lots of mental turmoil.
But it is still a beautiful story which clings onto readers mind and grows slowly in size, till readers gets a deep sense of satisfaction, having read a masterpiece.
And as I read Killing commandatore, feeling of deja vu envelopes me.
Another socially marginalised character who is soaked in art and music and goes on aimless vigil through unknown streets of Japan before settling down in absolute striking solitude.
Looking forward to read other works of genius writer.
I wish it could be a little happy book.
I could not make sense of what Watanabe did with Reiko at last. It was weired.
But I doubt , it would have become famous then.
It is painful but it is worth reading by everyone.