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.

Norwegian Wood

I picked up Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood in Foyles yesterday. This is interesting to me, because I remember deciding a couple of years ago that I didn't like Murakami's writing style, after attempting to read one of his other novels.

I think I purchased this book on the basis that the film adaptation is due to be released in December of this year (one of only two of Murakami's work to be sold to film). Plus, it's about time I wised up to what all the world already know- that Murakami is a literary genius.

My friend has read all his novels, and gushes over his prowess. I am now up to chapter three of Norwegian Wood, and perhaps it's too early to say. His prose is direct and not at all dense. He flips back and forth, forcing his reader to keep up with the present, and the past. He does inspire me to write, in fact I shall credit him with my 3000 words today.

Has anyone read this novel, (or other Murakami novels) and care to explain his genius tag?

Eat, Pray, Love film trailer

A couple of entries ago, I blogged about a book I was reading called Eat, Pray, Love.

Well now that I have finished the book, onwards to the film. I noted that it probably won't honour the book and it's good name (and I maintain this), though I do believe it will try. Watch the trailer above to come to your own conclusions.

Eat, Pray, Love

Wow, neglect!

Pure laziness, no. Tiredness, definately. Time for myself, somewhat attainable though want more.

I claimed time to myself last weekend, and I did something that I haven't done since I was a teen- I read all day. I was on the couch, I pulled the duvet up so I was nice and toasty, I made a cup of tea and then I read. It was indulgent. It was bliss.

The book I am fixated on is called 'Eat, Pray, Love' by Elizabeth Gilbert. I purchased it at the airport on the way to NYC, and thought it would be a good holiday read. I also purchased and read, 'The Lovely Bones' which was depressing as hell, and so I ended up not even touching 'Eat, Pray, Love'.

I was rewarded for my wait though, as the aforementioned does take me on a bender of emotions; it's witty, moving, empathetic, sad, happy, and set across the universe, just the way I like it.

I did think that this novel was going to be somewhat of a bore, given that the film version is due out in Summer with Julia Roberts playing the title role, though I implore you not to be distracted by this minor setback. It is well-written, and as it's based on Gilbert's own experiences, it's touching to read how she overcame 'it' all. 'It' is a divorce, a heartbreak and her subsequent depression.

My sister tried to read the first few pages and found it awfully off putting. I don't know if that's because she isn't a social reader (she devours medical textbooks for fun), or because she is happily married. I on the other hand, am not married, nor can see myself married in the foreseeable future, and do eat books like they're on a never-ending sale at Dymocks. I am a traveller, and it literally pains me that I can't just buy all the books I want. Instead, I probably pick up two a month. Excess baggage, pfft.

So lunchtime ranting over. The book is worth it.

The passion is in the pudding

What is your porn?

Mine's cookbooks. I love them. I read them, devour them, scan them, would lick them if I could.

I have a number of them, not including ripped out pages of magazines, photocopied pages from borrowed recipe books and handwritten snippets from relatives.

When I read them, I scan the method and visualise it all coming together, resulting in something that not only looks amazing, but tastes worth it.

I cook to relax. I cook to realise tension. I cook for creativity. I cook to eat.

I just love it.

My latest cookbook- awesome

What is your porn?