Norwegian Wood is perhaps one of the simplest of his novels. It's essentially a coming-of-age love story, set in Tokyo in the late sixties. Of course it's by no means "just" a love story - his typical humor, penchant for the metaphysical, and cool, smooth style are all still there.
(I am reading Murakami again as research for an essay about him I'm working on for a local newspaper contest. Not much to say about it, except that I'm now wondering how to fit a substantial review of his work in just over a thousand words.
I found myself re-reading with greater awareness, paying greater attention to my experience. Of course, since I am trying to put into my own words why I've fallen in love with Murakami's work.)
He's a natural storyteller, with an impeccable grasp of rhythm and timing.
His protagonists are admirably self-aware, articulate, and empathetic. Much more so than I am or have ever been, although, I hope, not too much more than I can hope to be. This is what makes them so compelling and likeable, to my mind.
I am at a loss as to expressing the emotional affect the book (and Murakami in general) has on me. I am beginning to have the suspicion that this is exactly what I need to focus on for that essay. Hrm.
But to take a stab at it, it's a combination of how strongly I identify with his pensive, solitary first person narrator, the lulling "natural-ness" of the prose/ stream of consciousness or its quality of being "in rhythm", and the melancholy permeating the fabric and every thread of the story.
On the other hand, perhaps because of the subtle humor throughout, I came away from Norwegian Wood, as from most of Murakami's other novels and stories, with a not-insignificant feeling of, I don't know if this is the exact word, hope.
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