Sunday, December 25, 2011

The One with Tokio Blues



I finished it!

Here's my review:


Tokio Blues: Norwegian WoodTokio Blues: Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I hate rating books like these.


This was the kind of book, that, at any spare moment, I would open up and be for hours submerged in their world. This is the kind of book that I hate falling asleep to (because it's a constant of mine to fall asleep whilst reading) not because it means that I will sleep poorly at night or that I'm wasting time, but because it means that I have to stop reading. The kind of book that I could pick up a flashlight and read under the covers just because it's a must to keep reading.


However, that's as far as it gets. They're sort of addicting, but in the way an alcoholic is addicted to liquor versus the way that a pothead is addicted to marijuana. It numbs feelings rather than enhances them.


It's many books that I've had this feeling with. For example, The Bad Girl by Vargas Llosa. I couldn't put this book down, however, I can't say that I was affected by the prose more than this.


Murakami has a rather elegant way of writing. His style is succint, yet not in an annoying Hemmingway-style, but in a chock-full-of-simile-and-metaphor-and-symbolism way. The title in itself suggests this. This is the grandeur of Murakami, not the fact that he is able to sell thousands of books on his simple ways of entertaining. There is a Japanese refinement to his words and sentences, in a way that you feel that he is saying so much and so little at the same time. This quality is the one that has you re-reading passages two times, and dropping your book to set an idea straight. It's a beautiful and remarkable quality that is so rare in most authors, who are typically either verbose or lacking in profoundness.


All in all, this is definetely not going to be my last experience with Murakami. I'm looking forward to reading more of his word.


View all my reviews

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