“The Norwegian Wood” alongside the “Kafka on the Shore”

In my list of favorite authors, Haruki Murakami, the famous Japanese novelist, holds a special place. He creates the world he loves and sees in his dreams, in whatever form he desires and with any excuse he wants. The concoction of imagination blended with reality gives me a fresh vitality. Murakami’s novels are pristine. Describing them as “pristine” might be somewhat peculiar for a novel, but for me, it describes the feeling I get from them. Murakami portrays a stress-free atmosphere, away from tension, despite depicting the real and sometimes exhausting problems of the characters, creating an appealing space for readers to follow the story. In Murakami’s stories, people are precise, focused, and without distractions. Alongside all these literary and captivating depictions, deep and challenging concepts are conveyed simply by characters shaped by Murakami’s extraordinary writing skills, in straightforward and sometimes not-so-complex and bizarre situations.

“Norwegian Wood” is the third book I’ve read by Murakami. The first book was years ago, and I don’t have a clear picture of it in my memory. “Kafka on the Shore” was the second book. From the very first pages, the conceptual and narrative similarities of both recent books captivated me. It’s not my concern what Murakami intends by repeating common elements in his novels, and he has mentioned in his interviews that interested readers can refer to them for further reading. For me, the allure of repetition lies in understanding and absorbing common concepts to reach deeper insights and richness beyond simple, real, and seemingly superficial elements. I will now mention some of the commonalities that have caught my attention in these two novels.

Among the obvious points of intersection is the prominent and abundant role of the forest in these two stories, along with the combination of moonlight and its luminous glow in the forest. In both novels, the forest is part of the characters’ journey of growth and movement in the course of life. At the beginning of the journey, the characters (often the main character) wander around the outskirts of the forest and its surroundings. They reach their evolution and excellence when they bravely and curiously enter the depths of the forest, free from any reservation or caution, and embark on the path of discovering the unknown. In connection with the forest (which may be considered a symbol of one’s true and inner self, perhaps unconsciously), they reach unity.

Additionally, one can enumerate multiple descriptive commonalities regarding the type and quality of emotional relationships among the characters in both stories. For instance, the profound distance between the son (Kafka) and his father in “Kafka on the Shore” and the daughter (Midori) and her mother in “Norwegian Wood,” and their efforts to display indifference towards losing their father and mother as a mechanism for denying and soothing the pain caused by the deep wounds of their absence throughout their lives, are another common point between these two novels. Despite the relatively deeper emotional relationship between Kafka and his mother and Midori and her father, each of them has been deeply wounded by ambiguous and unsettling behavior, leaving them with a perpetual ambiguity about the real cause of this alienating and painful behavior. Kafka’s mother leaving him in childhood and Midori’s father expressing to Midori and her sister after their mother’s death, “I wish I had lost both of you instead of your mother,” have burdened them with ongoing suffering.

Another prominent similarity between these two novels can be found in the characters’ passion for reading, especially novels and stories, and the existence of spaces related to this theme, such as the small private city library in “Kafka on the Shore” and Midori’s bookstore located in a suburban town in “Norwegian Wood.” Murakami conveys many concepts through these books and their authors, demonstrating his mastery of literature from various nations and cultures. Furthermore, another sign of Murakami’s prowess can be found in his vivid descriptions of scenes and the moods of his characters in peculiar situations, often invoking music. His use of music in role-playing and visualizing situations, emotions, and even abstractions is such that it feels as if the reader can immerse themselves completely in the same space and atmosphere of the story’s characters at the moment of reading while the described pieces are playing in the background.

Although there is much to say about the lessons I have learned from these two books, I will refrain from further elaboration to avoid verbosity and reader fatigue. Perhaps in another writing, there will be more room to delve deeper and more extensively into the subject.