Category: Art

  • Personal Review: “Norwegian Wood” by Haruki Murakami

    I first heard of Haruki Murakami somewhere in 1995 or 1996, when I read a translated short story of his in The New Yorker. I’m pretty sure it was “The Zoo Attack,” and I think it was all tied into the article about the upcoming publication of his novel, “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.” The short story made enough of an impression on me that I went to the local bookstore, and found a copy of his short story collection, “The Elephant Vanishes.” I mean I read it almost 25 years ago, but I remember that the collection was great; funny, surreal, and feeling very honest. Murakami does a great job on creating these fantastical stories where the characters reactions to this unreal situations land true and authentic. (Other surreal short story writers could learn a great deal from this man.) He is a great talent, truly a world talent.

    And there was one novel of his that for a long time, you couldn’t get in English; “Norwegian Wood.” Being a huge Beatles fan, the title of the novel always stuck with me, clearly, because it’s one of their more famous songs. Published in 1987, this was the novel that made Haruki Murakami a famous author and household name in Japan. Whenever anything was written about him, “Norwegian Wood” was always mentioned as his best novel. Sadly, being that there wasn’t an English translation until 2000 of the novel, in the late 90’s, it fell off my radar as a novel I had to read. Every now and then, I would see the title show up on reading lists of writers, and friends, and I would think, I need to read that book.

    Then back in April, when I took the kid with me down to The Strand to go book hunting, I found a huge stack of paperback copies of “Norwegian Wood” sitting on a cart that I am sure had yet to be shelved. Looking at the cover, I thought it’s time for me to read it. And when September rolled around, I finally got around to it.

    I liked the novel, but I wasn’t as impressed as I thought I would be. I had read that this book was a “normal” and “straight-forward” story, and not at all in the surreal vein of his earlier stories, and that was very true. It was a memory story, and used that formula. Toru, the narrator, is on a flight and he hears the song, “Norwegian Wood” as the plane is taxing to the gate in Hamburg, Germany. This song causes him to remember the time in his life where he had just started college, and first fell in love. Thus sets in motion the story, and Toru tells us that though he hasn’t thought of these events in years, the memories come back to him in vivid detail. It was a little caveat trick that Murakami used to give agency as to why the narrator is so detailed in his memories, and also to signal to us that what we are about to hear from the narrator is the truth.

    The setting is 1969 Tokyo, and all the cultural changes that come with it. I liked learning that the upheavals that hit universities in the US and France during this period, also hit Japan as well, but Toru seems to exist just adjacent of all of this turmoil. It is a lonely life this very normal young man lives; living in a dorm, going to class, working a part-time job. Soon he reconnects with the Naoko, who had been the girlfriend of his best friend, Kizuki, in high school. We learn that Kizuki had committed suicide their senior year, and this tragic loss still hangs over both of their lives. Though they come together, they both handle the death in different ways, and with different compounding struggles.

    The novel is more complicated, and there is a theme of loyalty, duty, and commitment as well. But also, the desire to go into the world and experience and discover. I can see why the “coming of age” moniker would get thrown on this story, but I feel that is more used for marketing that an actual description of what the novel is. The characters didn’t feel like they were coming into their own, but discovering how the death of a loved one can change the prism of their world, and viewpoint; some felt guilt, some felt relief, some had a rebirth.

    But as I write all of this, and I just finished reading it yesterday, I have this feeling in the back of my head that I need more time with the novel kicking around in my head. Let it marinate, and see where it takes me. Though it wasn’t as profound as I thought it would be, it hasn’t shaken my opinion of Haruki Murakami’s talent or status as an author.

    (And, since you are still here. Please be kind, and give a like, a share, a comment, or follow this blog. It drives the traffic engine that keeps the whole world running.)

  • Stopping the Publishing Monopolies, and Bookstores

    First of all, you should read “American Literature Loses Out to Consolidation,” by Richard Howorth which was published in The New York Times today.

    That having been said, my favorite bookstore to go to is the Stand down on 12th Street. I’ve started taking the kid there, and I feel like I’m completing one of those “All My Life’s a Circle” moments where I was taken to bookstores as a kid, and I now do that for my kid. One of the biggest reasons I love going to the Stand is that it smells like a bookstore; it smells like stacks and stacks of books. And now, slowly, no matter where I travel to, I have started seeing little bookshops again. In little downtowns, or strip malls, bookstores – new and used – are becoming present again.

    I worked, for a very short time, for an independent publisher right out of college, and I tip my hat to people to run small publishing houses; you only do it because you love it, not because you want to become rich. At those houses, everything seems like it’s on the verge of failing, people outside of the business treat you like your crazy, and there is no good business model other than being bought out by one of the “big houses” one day. But, I must add, some of the smartest people I have ever met work in small publishing.

    And these small publishers are where almost all authors get started. They are the farm leagues of the publishing world, and they are vital to the ecosystem, especially when it comes to giving new voices, subjects, and people an opportunity. The more the big house become centralized, the more likely they take up the shelf space at all level of bookstores, forcing out the little guys, and thus killing off anything new from being discovered.

    Keep this in mind when you bookshop. Look to see who is publishing that book you are looking at. Every dollar truly helps the little guy.

    (Say! If you happen to find that this blog are some knees of bees, be a pal and give it a like, a comment or a share! You’d be doing this Daddy-o a true solid!)

  • Personal Review: second place – a novel, by Rachel Cusk

    I’m getting back into the swing of reading. Like all things in life, if you want to good at something, you have to make it a habit. Make time for it, work at it, do it even when you don’t want to. I’m getting back into reading shape. I read Ezra Klein’s essay “I Didn’t Want It  to Be True, but the Medium Really Is the Message,” and I agree with him that the internet, and especially my smartphone, has dampen my ability to focus and read a book. Hence why I feel like I have to work at reading.

    At the start of the Summer, I took the kid to The Strand, so we could load up on books while on vacation. Though I didn’t go there looking for it, I came across Rachel Cusk’s newest novel – second place. I became a big fan of Cusk’s writing several years ago when I read her Outline trilogy, which left me feeling inspired to write again. So, when I see anything new by her, I gobble it up.

    The story of second place is straightforward; the narrator, M, invites a painter, L, to stay at her and her husband’s guesthouse during Covid. L isn’t a particularly warm or friendly person, and his interactions with M, M’s husband and daughter end up acting as a catalyst for change and introspection.

    What I enjoyed about the novel, which I find true for Cusk’s writing, is that there is such a wonderful serene sense of just pondering life; asking questions of oneself, and looking for answers and discoveries. Her writing is almost stream of consciences, but without all the pretension that can come with that style. The narrator, M, takes in life, and remembers things and stories, and she also describes her feelings about the development of her relationship with her husband and daughter. M is doing what I do with my life, and I hope other people do as well, which is I think about the people and events that have transpired, and how it all has affected us. Not in a narcissistic way, but more is a sense of awe, gratitude even, for the ability to have a life with people we care about, and a tiny bit of resignation and loss for the people that aren’t there anymore.

    (Say! If you are a person who finds these words which I have strung together entertaining, please take a moment to like, comment or share this blog. You’re high school English teacher will thank you!)

  • I Finished “Breakfast of Champions”

    When I first read Vonnegut’s “Breakfast of Champions or Goodbye Blue Monday” I think I was nineteen or twenty. I was eating up just about everything the guy wrote. I remember loving the book so much that I tried to push it off on just about anyone who would listen. My best friend latched on to the book just like I did, and we still will state that “BoC” is our favorite Vonnegut novel.

    I read the book only once, or, at least I have no memory of reading it a second time. I say this because I recently re-read “BoC”, as I am going through all the books that I feel influenced me to want to become a writer. What I remember about the book is that it played with structure, and storytelling. I remember Vonnegut putting himself in his own book, and I thought that was such an interesting choice as I felt that part of the reason for the book was Kurt dealing with his own mental issues and his anxiety over having these issues, just like his mother had.

    Having just reread the book, I had totally forgotten have much the novel deals with racism. I mean, I remembered that some of the characters said some racist shit, but when I was reading the book again, I see that Vonnegut was full force attacking the image of Heartland Midwestern good honest Americans, by saying that these people were just as racist and bigoted as the people in “down south.” It felt like a contempt, a deep contempt for the people that Vonnegut grew up with in Indiana, and America on a whole. There were some things that were very dated from the early 70’s, but Vonnegut’s take on embedded racism, still felt very current. The novel is a dark satire, and at some points felt very nihilistic, yet Kurt’s writing still was hilarious and fast paced.

    And then I started to wonder why I had forgotten about all of the racism? Why had that not resonated, and stuck with me? I know that I am getting older, and the last time I read the book was 25 years ago, so I’m not surprised that I don’t remember all the details. But, if you asked me a month ago what “BoC” was a bout, I would have told you mental health, and I would have been very confident in that answer. I don’t think I would have actively tried to forget that the book was about racism, yet I did forget about it.

    There really isn’t an answer here, just an observation on myself. Just a reading machine who is trying to be a thinking machine.

  • The Arts Are Needed In School

    This morning, I went to my kid’s school for a concert. The kid’s music teacher, Mr. Joel who works for a wonderful organization “Little Orchestra Society” was presenting songs that he and the students wrote together over the school year. Joining Mr. Joel were three professional musicians on stage; a trumpet player, celloist, and a clarinetist. The performance worked like this: Mr. Joel would play the song on his guitar with the student’s singing their song. Then Mr. Joel and the musicians would play the piece, and afterward, the students would make a suggestion for a change, which the musicians would incorporate. It was fun, and we all had a good time.

    Full discloser here, I have worked for “Little Orchestra Society” as a puppeteer. So, I might be a little biased toward what they do, BUT, what they bring to school kids in NYC is pretty important, so you have to deal with my bias. Now, I wasn’t a teacher, just a hired performer, like I assumed the three musicians were today.

    There are many things that are downright stupid about the New York City Public Schools, such as many schools do not have dedicated arts teachers, which requires these schools to contract out for teachers from organizations to come to their schools. The good news is that the artist that show up and teach the kids are amazingly talented, and are truly dedicated to teaching these students. I know, because I have several friends who do this work, and really do pour everything into their time with the kids.

    I also acknowledge that I am in a very special position where I have the ability to go and be an audience member for these performances. Most parents have to work, and I know if they had a choice, they would have been there today. The twenty or so of us that made it, did our best to be loud and supportive. You know, we wanted to make the kids and Mr. Joel feel good about what they accomplished, and also to say thank you to Mr. Joel.  And for me, I also wanted to make sure those three musicians up on stage, who all jokingly admitted that they got the sheet music for the songs the night before, know that their efforts were apricated as well.

    I know I am not the first person to say this, and I know I won’t be the last, but please remember to support the arts in your local school. For those of you in NYC, “Little Orchestra Society” is a wonderful organization to support, and a donation would go a long way to help children in the city.

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)