Norwegian Wood, the aftermath

I meant to do a follow-up post a few weeks ago about Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood, alas time got away from me.

I won't attempt to write a review, this isn't my aim.

Norwegian Wood suprised me. I did have reservations about Murakami, as I stopped reading another one of his novels about six years ago because of the pace. This novel was different. I took to Norwegian Wood like a child takes to icecream, jumping head first into its depth, loneliness, hedonism and tragedy.

I wasn't sure who I identified with the most, the central character of Toru, or the ghost throughout the novel, Naoko. Both had their meloncholies, both had their moments.

Naoko assumed tragedy from the onset, being the 'widowed' teen; her first love Kizuki committed suicide, and it haunted her throughout her young life. As too with Toru, his one true friend taken from him. Suicide and death runs constantly throughout the novel.

You needn't be able to identify with the characters or their situations to enjoy this book, though you will need to bear with the pace. The book flows like a mountain stream, though concentrates on heavier episodes with pagination indulgence. For instance, when Toru first goes to the mountains to visit Naoko, Norwegian Wood settles in its place and stays there like a dog infront of a warm fire. It sometimes made for uncomfortable reading, as I was unsure of the motivations of the newly introduced Raiko. I feel you don't get her intentions until right at the end of the novel, though even then it's not entirely clear.  

Midori, the carefree, porn-curious character forces a different side of Toru to be introduced, though I couldn't help wanting her to go away. Naoko held me entranced, even though she was so far away, suffering and enduring mental health treatments of the 1960s. Perhaps I wanted a happy ending, though Murakami was setting the story in the most obvious of directions.

Did I enjoy the novel? Thoroughly. It took me a few days to read, because I was so entranced. The character studies were so deceptively simple, that the work did inspire my own stories. Underlying the multitude of characters though, are the efforts to conjure such simplicity. And that is the irony of the novel.