Dec 05, 2008 20:06
writing a story that doesn't really have a story line, and yet tugs at my heart string like nothing else can.
I just read 'after dark', it follows the life of 5 very different characters over the course of 7 hours in an autumn night in tokyo. The book opens at 5 mins to 12 midnight and closes just a little after 630am. Before the sun rises, the lives of these 5 individuals will intersect in the most peculiar ways. I think what is so good about Murakami's books is his style of writing, the paradoxical description of settings in his book, how one moment it can be a description of a entirely realistic fast food joint like denny's and another moment, he twists his plot into a seemingly surreal universe where one gets into the television while sleeping and never gets out again.
That, and his ability to depict the isolation and loneliness of modern life such that young people of our age can identify with it, and especially so in a seemingly advanced, yet tradiational society like japan, youngsters are always in a struggle to reconcile their ideals with the conformities of the society.
' I think about the old days a lot... If I try hard to remember, all kinds of stuff comes back - really vivid memories... Memory is so crazy! It's like we have those drawers crammed with tons of useless stuff...That people's memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive. Whether those memories have any actual importance or not, it doesn't matter as far as the maintenance of life is concerned. ... You know, I think if I didnt have that fuel, if I didn't have these memory drawers inside me, I would've snapped a long time ago. I would've curled up in a ditch somewhere and died. It's because I can pull the memories out of the drawers when I have to- the important ones and the useless ones- that I can go on living this nightmare of a life... so try hard, Mari. Try hard to remember all kinds of stuff about your sister. It'll be important fuel. For you, and probably for your sister too. ' -------- the beauty of memories.
murakami haruki,
book review