Haruki Murakami - Slaap

Even though the Dutch edition of The elephant vanishes does not contain "Sleep", Gnoe and I decided to include this because, as there is no such thing as coincidence, that particular story has been published on its own just a few months back. In a great edition, with wonderful illustrations by the German artist Kat Menschik.

The opening sentence instantly shows what this particular story will be about: "Ik heb al zeventien dagen niet geslapen" (In English something like: "I have not slept for seventeen days"). The protagonist of this story, a young married woman with a small son, suddenly seems incapable of falling asleep. The first night she wakes up because of a shadow in the bedroom. An old man, pouring water over her feet. Paralysed by fear she waits until he disappears, to notice that her feet aren't in the least bit wet.
Even stranger is the fact that she doesn't even get tired. She doesn't want anybody to know, they might just take her to a doctor! So when she and her husband go to bed at night, she waits until he falls asleep and then goes into the living room to read. Anna Karenina and other Russian classics. Drinking cognac, nibbling chocolate, two things her husband (a dentist) does not approve of. During the day she swims, performs her household-duties, and reads some more...

Great story!

Haruki Murakami - De olifant verdwijnt

Although I read The elephant vanishes in Dutch (De olifant verdwijnt), my review will be in English. This is because Gnoe and I wanted to review the book together. Somehow, we haven't managed to do so so far, we always seem to have too much to chat about :-)

The second bakery attack/De tweede broodjesroof
A great start to the Dutch version of "The elephant vanishes": "de tweede broodjesroof", a story about a newly wed couple that mysteriously wakes up in the middle of the night, starving. Of course they find nothing in their fridge but a few cans of beer, and while they drink their beer, the husband tells his wife about an remarkably similar hunger attack when he was young. On that occasion, he and his friend robbed a bakery to satisfy their hunger... or rather, they planned to rob a bakery. The baker told them they could take all the bread they wanted, if only they listened to a record of overtures by Wagner. The wife thinks that their present state is caused by the failure to rob the bakery in the past, and so, she deduces, they must rob another bakery to make amends. However, when they set out to do so, the only bakery they find is a McDonald's restaurant...
A true Murakami-story, in which food and love are in some way connected. The antagonist accepts without hesitation all the really strange things that happen to him. For instance, the fact that his wife happens to own a Remmington-rifle and the right type of ammo, does not seem to alarm him. Nor does the fact that she owns black ski-masks. How well does one know one's spouse, especially if you have been married only for a short period of time?

TV People/TV People
Yet another great story! This one tells the story of a man, married for four years (in Maruakami's stories the number of years that the antagonists have been married is always mentioned and of importance). On sundays, he usually does nothing but feel awful. On a particular sunday however, while his wife is out with friends, and he is lying on the couch, suddenly three small persons walk in the door, carrying a tv. They install the tv and switch it on: it shows only a white screen. When his wife comes home, later that evening, she doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. The next day, the TV-People walk around his office, carrying yet another tv. Nobody seems to notice them. And after work, at home, the TV-people return whereas his wife doesn't.
Strange story, very Murakami-like. The disappearance of one's wife is a theme he has used before (Wind-up bird chronicles) and the TV-people reminded me of the Little People from 1q84...

The dancing dwarf/De dansende dwerg
In Murakami's world, the boundary between dream and reality is paper-thin...
The third story in the Dutch translation of The elephant vanishes is called "The dancing dwarf". A man dreams about a dwarf, dancing his socks off. The dwarf predicts that this is not just a dream, they will be meeting out in the woods, where the dwarf lives. And so will the man. The dwarf promises that the girl working at the same factory as the man that nobody ever impresses, will be impressed by him, through his dancing. The only thing he has to do is lend his body to the dwarf. And keep his mouth firmly shut throughout the whole dance. If he utters even a single sound, his body will become the dwarf's. Luckily, the man has been warned by one of his ancient colleagues. But even though he gets to keep his own body, the way in which he has danced has alarmed the authorities and he has to go live out in the woods. Just like the dwarf predicted...
Funny detail in the story the factory both the man and the girl he wants to impress work in: the factory produces elephants. Or rather, the factory dilutes elephants to save the species from becoming extinct. The production of an elephant has been described in a very funny, yet somehow convincing way.

Barn burning/Schuurtjes in brand steken
The fourth story, "Barn burning", was my least favorite story. A young man meets a young girl, who studies pantomime. When her father dies, she uses the inheritance to travel to the north of Africa. When she comes back, she takes a man with her, a rather mysterious man that seems rich but where his money comes from nobody knows "Hij lijkt Fitzgeralds Great Gatsby wel, dacht ik: de raadselachtige rijke jonge man van wie niemand precies weet wat hij doet." (sorry about the Dutch quote! In English it will probably be something like: He seems like Fitzgerald's Great Gatsby, I thought: a mysterious rich young man about whom noboday exactly knows what he does). The man confesses to the protagonist to burning barns every now and then: bizarrely enough to 'om de moraliteit in stand te houden'. More or less like Dexter needs his kills, this man needs to burn down barns. He tells that he has already targeted his next barn, not far from the house our protagonist lives. This induces a feverish search by our protagonist: running through the neighbourhood every morning to check out the five potential targets. However, although the mystery-man assures him that the barn he targeted burned, no barns in the immediate vicinity has burned down. On the other hand, the pantomime-girl disappears...
Why is this my least favorite story? I have no idea. It feels dark, humourless, whereas the rest of the stories have some kind of light feeling to them. I think that must be it.

The elephant vanishes/De olifant verdwijnt
The fifth story however, the Elephant vanishes, I enjoyed reading very much. When the local zoo closes, all the animals are sold off to other zoos. All but an elderly elephant. He is housed in an old gym, with his elderly keeper. One day, however, both the elephant and his keeper have mysteriously disappeared... The whole town is in an uproar: with such a dangerous animal on the loose, the children are being kept indoors. When a few days later, the elephant still hasn't been found, life return to normal for the town's inhabitants. Except for the protagonist of the story, who even loses a prospective girlfriend worrying.
Again a disappearance and it's impact on the lives of ordinary people, one of Murakami's regular themes.

The wind-up bird and tuesday's women/Opwindvogels en dinsdagse vrouwen
The final story in the Dutch edition of The elephant vanishes is "The wind-up bird and tuesday's women", that forms the basis of The wind-up bird chronicle". I am very glad Murakami has used this particular story to write one of his biggest novels. My second Murakami, which I will reread in April. Looking forward to that already!

Haruki Murakami - Blinde wilg, slapende vrouw

Normaal gesproken vind je hier een redelijk kort verslag van een door mij gelezen boek. Deze keer echter las ik niet alleen, maar samen met Gnoe, die overigens een meer dan lezenswaardig blog bijhoudt (niet alleen over boeken). We spraken, mailden en twitterden heel wat over deze Murakami verhalenbundel en besloten daarom uiteindelijk om er dan ook maar een gezamenlijke boekbespreking van te maken. Omdat zij altijd in het Engels blogt, waag ik me daar voor de verandering ook eens aan. Enjoy!

Why did you read Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman?
Elsje: Well, ever since I discovered Murakami, two years ago, I have been wanting to read his whole oeuvre. Not many authors have invoked this type of avidity in me, that's for sure. And reading more only made it worse. So, this was my 10th Murakami... In addition, this was the most recent book published in Dutch (or any other language, for that matter). Last but not least, Gnoe, also a true Murakami-addict, was looking for someone to read along with.
Gnoe: My reason for picking up Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman is quite similar. Shortly after reading my first (and long-time favorite) Murakami The Wind-up Bird Chronicle in 2004, I decided to read all books by the master. Up until now I've read most of his novels, but I kept postponing 'BWSW' because I'm not really a short-story-grrl. A buddy read with Elsje was exactly what I needed! And it didn't hurt either that March was Murakami Month at In Spring it is the Dawn ;)

What did I you expect?
Elsje: After nine Murakami's I pretty much knew what to expect: a little supernatural, complicated relationships, unobtainable love, desperate searches for lost loves, death by freak accidents and suicides, music and food. I always seem to like the Murakami novels better than his short stories: Murakami needs to elaborate to be able to hold my attention on his train of thoughts. So my expectations were not skyhigh.
Gnoe: Not being a fan of short stories I expected to be a little frustrated ;) Just getting into a story and then... oops! -- The End. Hate that. Of course I hoped Murakami would surprise me with some enchanting writing... But I'd already read After the Quake (twice) and it didn't impress me. Only Super-Frog Saves Tokyo lingers in my mind because it was weirdly sympathetic (or sympathetically weird).

Did Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman live up to your expectations?
Elsje: Absolutely, and more than that. I have to say that some of his most beautiful short stories can be found in this volume!
Gnoe: Well, having such low expectations Murakami could hardly disappoint. And indeed, I loved Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman! But it's not just because of my anticipations. The stories are wonderful: little gems that are not too short at all. Of course I couldn't (nor shouldn't) read them in one sitting, so I had a great time savoring Murakami's fantasies. Each had that magical touch of the master: lovely language and amazing atmosphere.

What was your favorite story?
Elsje: That one is hard to answer... Browsing the book to make a choice, I find myself absorbed anew... Impossible to choose just one. I believe my favorite stories are, in chronological order :-):
- Birthday Girl in which a girl experiences a very strange encounter on the evening of her twentieth birthday
- The Mirror in which a man finds himself looking at himself in a mirror. Creepy story!
- The Seventh Man in which a man tells a group of people how, when he was a boy, an enormous wave took the life of his best friend. The man felt guilty for years because he had not tried to save him.
- The Year of Spaghetti. A man obsessively cooks spaghetti. A whole year of loneliness. Interrupted only by his own thoughts. And then: a telephone call.
- Toni Takitani: a beautiful story about a man, the son of a jazzmusician, who looses his spendthrift wife in a car accident. The clothes she leaves behind form the basis of a strange advertisement: Toni pays a girl to wear his wife's dresses, so that he can get used to her being dead.
- The Ice Man: a girl falls in love with, indeed, an iceman. Heartbreaking story!


This image refers to one of the stories not mentioned above: Dabchick

- Where I'm Likely to Find It describes the search for a lost husband. And when I say lost, I mean lost: he disappeared in between floors, going from the apartment of his wife to that of his mother in law.
- The Kidney-Shaped Stone That Moves Every Day tells the story of a writer who has been told by his father that every man is granted only three true loves. Waiting for that love he is afraid to commit. When he meets Kyrie, he is stuck in one of his stories, a story about a kidneyshaped stone.
Gnoe: I just can't choose one favorite story either... I liked many of them, but two really stand out (both already mentioned by Elsje): The Seventh Man and The Ice Man. Hm. There's a striking similarity between those titles, what does that say about me?! LOL

Why did it become a favorite?
Elsje: These stories are truly wonderful: they harbor all the Murakami ingredients, and, moreover, are complete stories. That which I found lacking in short story volumes I read earlier - elaboration - was more than sufficient in these stories. I was mesmerized by especially The Mirror, The Ice Man, Where I'm Likely to Find It and The Kidney-Shaped Stone.
Gnoe: Explaining why I rather like a story is always the hard part, but I'll try to make sense. Beware of SPOILERS though! Elsje already gave a brief summary of the narratives in relation to previous question so I'll just skip to my thoughts on The Seventh Man. It brings to mind early school camps & scouting outings, where the -- older -- supervisors (often teenagers or in their early twenties -- like I said: old ;) told scary stories in the evening. The confession of The Seventh Man gives me the chills, but rings true. It's really heartbreaking, but heartwarming at the same time. I could imagine finding myself in his shoes: shock-reflexes triggering self-preservation but being paralyzed to the point where you can't warn your ignorant friend for the approaching killer wave. I understood his feelings of guilt although we all very well know he cannot be held responsible. The image of the little boy swallowed by the sea is equally grim and beautiful at the same time. That scene is so vivid, it will stay with me forever. And I just listened to the seventh man telling his story -- imagine what's before his mind's eye...
The Ice Man is just a beautiful love story: romantic and tragic at once, the way it should. In fiction I mean, 'cause in real life we'd like to live happily ever after ;) What I admire about this story is that I completely and totally believed in the existence of such a creature as an ice man -- and in our protagonist's unconditional love for him.
Fun fact: In his introduction Haruki Murakami says about these stories: Ice Man, by the way, is based on a dream my wife had, while The Seventh Man is based on an idea that came to me when I was into surfing and was gazing out at the waves".

Explanation of the booktitle
Elsje: The title refers to the first story, in which one of the friends of the protagonist writes a poem about a blind willow, of which the pollen, when conveyed to the ear of a girl make her fall asleep.
Trivia: I found a video on YouTube by a band named Willow, called Blind which I don't believe inspired Murakami...
Gnoe: Well, there's nothing much to add to that, is there? Unless I could elaborate on how this title reflects the complete collection of short stories, but I don't have a clue ;) I would also like to muse a little on the meaning and importance of the poem -- but again I'm tongue-beaten. I just can't seem to put my finger on it; frustration finally setting in! ;) The story goes that the long, long roots of the blind willows go deep into the ground where there's complete darkness. (Darkness: No Good, right?) Then there's a medium -- those little flies -- that transfer the doomed pollen to innocent people. Nothing you can do about it: we all got that vulnerable spot (our ears). And then you fall asleep: lead a passive life (not living to the fullest). But what does it all mean? I'm stuck.
Anyway, the darkness reminds me of another Murakami novel: Dance Dance Dance, in which the Sheep Man (the medium between the darkness and the human world) tells the main character he has to dance to keep living. And there's a connection to After Dark of course, in which a girl falls into a deep sleep as well. But hey, book connections is a question further along!



Theme
Elsje: I really cannot think why Murakami specifically brought these stories together in this volume.
Gnoe: I don't believe there's an overall theme linking the stories in this collection either, except for some general elements that keep recurring in Murakami's books. I'll talk about that relating to next topic. Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman probably just consists of stories not previously published outside Japan.

Links with other Murakami stories/books
Elsje: Plenty links can be found. For instance
- Blind Willow reminded me of Norwegian Wood, in which the main character forms a kind of triangular friendship with a girl and a boy. The boy kills himself and the girl suffers as a result of that. In addition, the memory of the protagonist is jogged by a song he hears on a plane. In Blind Willow, a similar triangular friendship existed in the past, and entering the hospital with his cousin brings memories back about this friendship.
- Birthday Girl reminded me of A Wild Sheep Chase, probably because of the mysterious events in a hotel. Room 604... Is that the same room number?? No, the room number in A Wild Sheep Chase is 406… Remarkably similar, though!
- New York Mining Disaster stirred a faint memory of South of the Border. I think that is because the main character owns a bar.
- Man-Eating Cats: I believe Murakami used part of this story to construct Sputnik Sweetheart.
- Firefly: this story contains the same early morning ritual as Norwegian Wood. In addition, the roommate is again spic and span. I don't remember if in Norwegian Wood this roommate was a geography student, but I think he was...
- The brilliant pianoplayer in Hanalei Bay could be based on the same idea as Reiko in Norwegian Wood?
- The Kidney-Shaped Stone reminded me somewhat of Thailand, one of the stories in After the Quake.
Gnoe: First I'd like to say that I find it amazing how much Elsje remembers of those books! I guess my taking ages to read the complete works of Murakami has its downside... I was thinking more of book relations through recurring elements, like ears, food, storytelling, young people dying (early) / entering new life stages and (unrequited or lost) love. Of course there are many more but these come to mind thinking of Blind Willow. Elsje considered these her expectations! (I'm referring to her answer on our second question ;) A Murakami theme I actually missed in this book is the QUEST.
I'd like to highlight some of the elements because they seem important (or beautiful) in any way.
- Ear: you've already heard how ears play a special role in the title story. But it's not just the poem: the antagonist's cousin has a hearing problem that was caused by a baseball that hit his right ear as a child. Again an innocent victim hurt by external causes. And it wouldn't be a Murakami without a special earlobe; in Birthday Girl.
- Food: there's a disgusting story called Crabs (another vivid image I can't get out of my mind but I'll spare you that), which shows us a meaningful insight on the topic of food:

You know, eating's much more important than most people think. There comes a time in your life when you've just got to have something super-delicious. And when you're standing at that crossroads your whole life can change, depending on which you go into -- the good restaurant or the awful one. It's like -- do you fall on this side of the fence, or on the other side.


Yeah well, nice observation but it doesn't help us much, does it? ;)
Elsje: How about The Year of Spaghetti?!
Gnoe:
- Death (young people dying):

A man's death at twenty-eight is as sad as the winter rain.

(New York Mining Disaster). 
And a quote from Firefly:

Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.

(How zen!)
- Storytelling: plenty of storytellers in this book, but there's a special narrator in Chance Traveller. The story begins as follows:


The 'I' here, you should know, means me, Haruki Murakami, the author of the story. [..] The reason I've turned up here is that I thought it best to relate directly several so-called strange events that have happened to me. [..] Whenever I bring up these incidents, say, in a group discussion, I never get much of a reaction. Most people simply make some non-committal comment and it never goes anywhere. [..] At first I thought I was telling the story wrong, so one time I tried writing it down as an essay. I reckoned that if I did that, people would take it more seriously. But no one seemed to believe what I'd written. 'You've made that up, right?' I don't know how many times I've heard that. Since I'm a novelist people assume that anything I say or write must have an element of make-believe.

How mean ;) The author made me feel guilty for not believing his story! And it brought to mind that other book in which a (failed) writer appears with a familiar sounding name: Mr Hiraku Makimura in Dance Dance Dance!

Musical links
Elsje: A few suitable musical links to listen to while reading Chance Traveller: Star crossed lovers, Duke Ellington and Barbados, Charlie Parker. When you read New York Mining Disaster, please listen to New York Mining Disaster, The Bee Gees. Last but not least,
Firefly should be accompanied by: Dear heart, Henry Mancini
Gnoe: Thank you for the music!

Anything else to say?

Elsje: Mr. Gnoe kindly lent me a book on Murakami, written by his English translator Jay Rubin: Haruki Murakami and the music of words. I really recommend this book to Murakami-adepts. Rubin addresses some of the things Gnoe and I have commented on above, in addition, he touches a whole lot of things we seem to have missed. For instance, when answering question about links with other books, Gnoe confessed to feeling guilty for not believing one of the stories. Well, Gnoe, let me ease your guilt: according to Rubin, Murakami did make this story up after all!
Gnoe: There's something that keeps bothering me... It's probably supposed to, but I'd like to hear people's opinions anyway! Even though it can be considered a spoiler... What is the wish Birthday Girl made? I wanna know! Do you have any ideas?

Styling
Elsje: I love the way in which the Dutch translations have been styled. Always bicolored, with a tiny picture at the border between the two colors, signifying one of the main themes. The cover of Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman by Jerry Bauer, depicts the eyes and nose of, indeed, a sleeping woman.
Gnoe: I prefer my English copy to Elsjes's Dutch because it's more poetic, suitable to the stories. There's a Japanese woman sleeping underneath a persimmon branch. She lying on a soft, white underground -- obviously a mattress when you take a close look, but it evokes the image of snow. The woman is wearing a spring/summer dress or nightgown, so she has definitely been sleeping for quite some time! In Buddhism the persimmon stands for transformation. The picture is a combination of a modern photograph and a detail of the early nineteenth century painting Persimmon on Tree by Sakai Hoitsu. Yep, I like it ;) The book has a white background with lettering in silver, black and several reds -- colors that 'we' (Western people) associate with Japan. A subtle detail is that the author's name is embossed, not the title (as in the thriller genre).

Well, that's a long description of something you can largely see for yourself ;) But the combination of these colors on a white background is visible in the designs of other Murakami editions from the same publisher. Of course it's a smart move to make them look like a 'series' because what bibliophile wouldn't want to show of his collection of books by Murakami? It would be fun to compare several different Murakami 'series' someday!

Book details
Elsje: My volume is a first print, published by Uitgeverij Atlas in 2009. Translation into Dutch was executed by Elbrich Fennema. I am not sure wether she translated the stories directly from Japanese or from the English translation Gnoe read.
Gnoe: My paperback is a first print, published by Harvill Secker in 2006 (copyrighted 2005 by Haruki Murakami). The stories are variably translated from Japanese by Philip Gabriel and Jay Rubin; both seem to have done the job very well!

Gnoe: Hey Elsje, now that our buddy review is ready: let's make plans for a follow-up to see the Tony Takitani movie?!
Elsje: I think that would be an excellent idea! In addition, we could buddyread 1Q84 which appears in print next week… #hinthint