kafka on the shore
i finally finished Kafka on the Shore, by Haruki Murakami, the book i purchased back in February. i finished and wanted more, yet somehow it took me so long to read... granted, when i was reading it i was really into it. but for some reason every time i put it down i had a hard time picking it back up again.
if you enjoy magical realism, loss of innocence, the oedipus concept, and poetical prose then you should read this book. parts were fairly intense at times, but the entire story is a bit hazy, or blurry and is written almost as if it were taking place in a dream. this softens the hard parts in addition to helping confuse the lines between reality and fantasy. the disturbing wasn't so disturbing. but the beautiful, private moments were even more ethereal due to the cloudiness of it all.
Kafka on the Shore boils down into a book about life and living -- although, i suppose you could say that about most novels. it's special, though, because it is the story of "the world's toughest" 15 year old boy and his quest to understand the meaning of life. it is the story of a wise old man who has the education of a first grader, and who is on the mission for he-doesn't-know-what (but he'll know it when he sees it). it is the story of a librarian who breathes but no longer lives. if we're talking about lines being blurred then it is also the story of a hemophiliac hermaphrodite with the need to speed. it is the story of how all of their paths will collide. fish will fall from the sky, lightening will strike, and music will be played from a terrifyingly beautiful flute made out of living cat hearts.
some quotes:
# It's like when you're in the forest, you become a seamless part of it. When you're in the rain, you're a part of the rain. When you're in the morning, you're a seamless part of the morning. When you're with me, you become a part of me.
# 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 isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you.
# There’s only one kind of happiness, but misfortune comes in all shapes and sizes. It’s like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.
# Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That's part of what it means to be alive.
# I want you to remember me. If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.
# Narrow minds devoid of imagination. Intolerance, theories cut off from reality, empty terminology, usurped ideals, inflexible systems. Those are the things that really frighten me. What I absolutely fear and loathe.
# Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.
# Time weighs down on you like an old, ambiguous dream. You keep on moving, trying to sleep through it. But even if you go to the ends of the earth, you won't be able to escape it. Still, you have to go there- to the edge of the world. There's something you can't do unless you get there
# The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future. In truth, all sensation is already memory
# It's hard to tell the difference between sea and sky, between voyager and sea. Between reality and the workings of the heart
# In ancient times people weren't simply male or female, but one of three types: male/male, male/female or female/female. In other words, each person was made out of the components of two people. Everyone was happy with this arrangment and never really gave it much thought. But then God took a knife and cut everyone in half, right down the middle. So after that the world was divided just into male and female, the upshot being that people spend their time running around trying to locate their missing half.
# If you think God’s there, He is. If you don’t, He isn’t. And if that’s what God’s like, I wouldn’t worry about it
# Time expands, then contracts, all in tune with the stirrings of the heart.
next book: A Game of Thrones, by George R. R. Martin
if you enjoy magical realism, loss of innocence, the oedipus concept, and poetical prose then you should read this book. parts were fairly intense at times, but the entire story is a bit hazy, or blurry and is written almost as if it were taking place in a dream. this softens the hard parts in addition to helping confuse the lines between reality and fantasy. the disturbing wasn't so disturbing. but the beautiful, private moments were even more ethereal due to the cloudiness of it all.
Kafka on the Shore boils down into a book about life and living -- although, i suppose you could say that about most novels. it's special, though, because it is the story of "the world's toughest" 15 year old boy and his quest to understand the meaning of life. it is the story of a wise old man who has the education of a first grader, and who is on the mission for he-doesn't-know-what (but he'll know it when he sees it). it is the story of a librarian who breathes but no longer lives. if we're talking about lines being blurred then it is also the story of a hemophiliac hermaphrodite with the need to speed. it is the story of how all of their paths will collide. fish will fall from the sky, lightening will strike, and music will be played from a terrifyingly beautiful flute made out of living cat hearts.
some quotes:
# It's like when you're in the forest, you become a seamless part of it. When you're in the rain, you're a part of the rain. When you're in the morning, you're a seamless part of the morning. When you're with me, you become a part of me.
# 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 isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you.
# There’s only one kind of happiness, but misfortune comes in all shapes and sizes. It’s like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.
# Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That's part of what it means to be alive.
# I want you to remember me. If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.
# Narrow minds devoid of imagination. Intolerance, theories cut off from reality, empty terminology, usurped ideals, inflexible systems. Those are the things that really frighten me. What I absolutely fear and loathe.
# Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.
# Time weighs down on you like an old, ambiguous dream. You keep on moving, trying to sleep through it. But even if you go to the ends of the earth, you won't be able to escape it. Still, you have to go there- to the edge of the world. There's something you can't do unless you get there
# The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future. In truth, all sensation is already memory
# It's hard to tell the difference between sea and sky, between voyager and sea. Between reality and the workings of the heart
# In ancient times people weren't simply male or female, but one of three types: male/male, male/female or female/female. In other words, each person was made out of the components of two people. Everyone was happy with this arrangment and never really gave it much thought. But then God took a knife and cut everyone in half, right down the middle. So after that the world was divided just into male and female, the upshot being that people spend their time running around trying to locate their missing half.
# If you think God’s there, He is. If you don’t, He isn’t. And if that’s what God’s like, I wouldn’t worry about it
# Time expands, then contracts, all in tune with the stirrings of the heart.
next book: A Game of Thrones, by George R. R. Martin