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Title: Norwegian Wood
Author: Haruki Murakami
Genre: Literary fiction
Thingummies: 2
Synopsis: A young Japanese man in 1963 has really shitty taste in women.
Thoughts: I know this author is very well regarded. I can't help but think perhaps this book was just Not For Me.
The prose has a certain sparse poetry, but there's also notes of awkwardness and abruptness. I can't tell if it's due to the translation, if it's an affectation that the author is assuming as a method of characterization, or if it's endemic to Murakami's voice. Whichever it is, I found it kind of annoying.
What was completely annoying was the manic-pixie-Suicide-Girlness of all of his female characters. Now, granted, every single character in this book is damaged in some way. But with the exception of the one boy whose suicide happens before the book opens, the guys are functional, or at least understandable in their dysfunction. Their issues tend to arise from obvious reasons and are suitably explored. They go on to have functional lives.
The women, on the other hand. Oh god. There are multiple suicides. There's the one who was driven insane by a manipulative 13-year-old girl who turned her into a lesbian, or something. There's the more stereotypical manic pixie dream girl who makes wildly inappropriate sexual comments and lies pathologically and insists on watching the neighboring building burn down from her apartment. They all just kind of shrug, "oh, I guess I'm crazy, tee hee". Of course, the narrator is enamored of the lot of them. They're all fragile, delicate, crazyflowers who helplessly bat their eyes and flirt a lot.
I think perhaps I can see the appeal for a man a generation older than me. But for me--I just could not bring myself to care about any of the characters, or the plot (what little there was of it, this being a precious literary coming-of-age story).
Author: Haruki Murakami
Genre: Literary fiction
Thingummies: 2
Synopsis: A young Japanese man in 1963 has really shitty taste in women.
Thoughts: I know this author is very well regarded. I can't help but think perhaps this book was just Not For Me.
The prose has a certain sparse poetry, but there's also notes of awkwardness and abruptness. I can't tell if it's due to the translation, if it's an affectation that the author is assuming as a method of characterization, or if it's endemic to Murakami's voice. Whichever it is, I found it kind of annoying.
What was completely annoying was the manic-pixie-Suicide-Girlness of all of his female characters. Now, granted, every single character in this book is damaged in some way. But with the exception of the one boy whose suicide happens before the book opens, the guys are functional, or at least understandable in their dysfunction. Their issues tend to arise from obvious reasons and are suitably explored. They go on to have functional lives.
The women, on the other hand. Oh god. There are multiple suicides. There's the one who was driven insane by a manipulative 13-year-old girl who turned her into a lesbian, or something. There's the more stereotypical manic pixie dream girl who makes wildly inappropriate sexual comments and lies pathologically and insists on watching the neighboring building burn down from her apartment. They all just kind of shrug, "oh, I guess I'm crazy, tee hee". Of course, the narrator is enamored of the lot of them. They're all fragile, delicate, crazyflowers who helplessly bat their eyes and flirt a lot.
I think perhaps I can see the appeal for a man a generation older than me. But for me--I just could not bring myself to care about any of the characters, or the plot (what little there was of it, this being a precious literary coming-of-age story).
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Date: 2013-11-02 01:45 am (UTC)From:I have a copy of Norwegian Wood that, lol, is definitely never getting read now...
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Date: 2013-11-03 12:39 am (UTC)From: