Murakami’s writing has a simple and enigmatic feel, and dangles with mysterious subplots, as if there is something afloat and untold, something untoward in the offing, and readers have to determine for themselves what is really amiss. This is the sort of thing I find good in a novel. I think experiences are all essentially gnomic, and because we don’t always have all the answers, we rely on internal struggles (unfortunately), external perceptions and intuition to seek answers and construct narratives. If a book can replicate this experience, it will have succeeded in charming readers like me. I also like Murakami’s writer’s voice. I remembered finishing my first of his novel Norwegian Woods with a very pleasant aftertaste; that was already ten years ago. What struck me the most was that special calmness in his voice, special in that there is some gentleness and indifference to it, as if the narrator has accepted the ending, the fate, the tragic part of things. I find that both amusing and reassuring.
Now this time I read Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage in one setting. I couldn’t stop. It is a story about a thirty-six years old engineer called Tsukuru, self-identified as bland and boring, went on a journey to discover the truth behind an unresolved trauma that occurred in his teenage years. Four of his best friends abandoned him overnight for no reasons, which had continued to scar him until the end of the story. The abandonment instilled in him a belief that he had little to offer, and that his personality was too bland and life too average to have friends. Later Tsukuru met his girlfriend Sara, who was determined to help him find out what happened, for she thought even though they could speak candidly, he always seemed to be vaguely keeping people at a distance. And the mystery here was perhaps that he was, or perhaps that was just his ‘bland personality’, or we don’t know.
Although Murakami’s writing style is simple, the book deals with complex themes such as trauma, desire and loss, and personal identity. It is a hard one when it comes to dealing with relationship trauma. I know what it feels like to lose friends – the pain to find out people suddenly have decided to cast you out of life for no reasons – worse still you might have developed months or years of connection, and at the end of the day you still couldn’t fathom what you have done wrong. It was not something to get over in just a few days, and grieving over a lost friend is just as hard as grieving over a lost lover. What hurt, isn’t always the incident but the unknown. It really messed with our head about who we were (self-esteem), and what really happened. To quote a beautiful line from the book:
Life is long, and sometimes cruel. Sometimes victims are needed. Someone has to take on that role. And human bodies are fragile, easily damaged. Cut them, and they bleed.
Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage
I ended up developing a fondness for Tsukuru. I think he showed a lot of character strength by facing these difficulties voluntarily and then deciding to forgive, instead of getting bitter and seeking revenge. I also think he has many valuable things to offer – being a good listener, a loyal friend and having strong aesthetic sensibility are huge ones. But this isn’t the point: everyone has trauma and self-limiting perceptions to overcome, and it is a lifelong reconciliation to understand and accept who we are.
Siming Lan 