I once asked a Haruki Murakami reader, where would you place his books? Not Harold Bloom but equally opinionated, the faithful reader immediately replied, and added, “Magical realism; the plots are plausible, yet they are not.” He, of course, was referring to the absurd scenarios in Murakami’s stories made superbly feasible by his elegant storytelling; for example, A Shingawa Monkey (2006), in which a monkey from one of Tokyo’s special wards steals names of young women whom he desires. I refer to this essay only because the monkey and its story reappear in this collection.
There are eight stories in all and the magic unleashed is a testament to not only Murakami but also his polyglot translator Philip Gabriel. In Murakami’s book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, we get to understand his passion for running. Likewise in this, the author’s relationship with music is reinforced, almost to the point of being didactic. In fact, reading First Person Singular will ge
April 23, 2021
Ann Levin
AP – Haruki Murakami has a new collection of stories told in the first person by an unnamed older man obsessed with baseball, music, and the porous borders between memory, reality and dreams.
He may describe himself as a “bland, run-of-the-mill guy”, as in the story
Cream about a young man’s encounter with an ageing mystic but Murakami Man is more like a walking encyclopedia who has a problem with women mainly, that he can’t seem to get past their physical appearance.
Thus, in
On a Stone Pillow, we have his memories of a melancholy poet; in
Murakami has a new collection of stories told in the first person by an unnamed older man obsessed with baseball, music, and the porous borders between