Now designated mentally-imparied, Nakata’s old-age is distinguished only by his strange talent for talking to cats. After undergoing a strange childhood experience during the Second World War, in which he fell into an inexplicable coma after seeing a flashing light in the sky, Nakata was left with a blank memory and the loss of his reading and writing abilities. As the narrative of Kafka’s journey progresses, the plot is intersected with the parallel odyssey of the elderly Nakata. When Kafka’s father is murdered, however, the threads of reality begin to unravel and time oscillates. He flees to Takamatsu, where he establishes himself as an assistant in the Komura Private Library, thanks to the help of the librarian Oshima.
Although both mother and sister left home when Kafka was just 4 years-old, Kafka is resolved to ensure that the prophecy has no chance of realisation. Living in Nakano Ward, Tokyo, Kafka is fleeing his father’s twisted, Oedipal prophecy – a prophecy that predicts Kafka will kill his father, and sleep with his mother and sister. Kafka on the Shore opens as 15 year-old Kafka Tamura prepares to run away from home. While I can’t say that this was an easy read, it is further proof that the novels we avoid are often those that enrich us the most as readers. Whatever the reason, I decided it was high time that I throw these worries to the sideline and give Kafka on the Shore a go. Questioning this prejudice, I still could not actually tell you why Murakami’s work inspired such avoidance – perhaps it was concern about his admittedly strange fictional worlds, maybe his style, or even simply a fear that I wouldn’t understand the plots. Because Murakami is an author that I have avoided like the plague. Presumably, it is a combination of these that has fed my fear. Murakami is a writer that I have come across consistently for a number of years, in the form of recommendations, bestseller lists, and numerous interviews. One contemporary author in particular has been the victim of my strange and foundationless bias – namely, celebrated Japanese author Haruki Murakami. But the blog has definitely forced me to consider some of those odd prejudices and trends that impact my reading choices. I have an unbelievably eclectic taste and I want The Book Habit to reflect this. While the blog has inevitably meant that more recommendations and book loans come my way, I was never going to be one to read only the Classics in an effort to appear more literary or impressive. Dickens is absolutely a challenge but the rewards are, I think, completely worth the effort.Īs I have said a few times before, I have consistently maintained my habits and reading style since The Book Habit’s inception. Thanks to some persistent friends and a long train commute, I finally threw myself into Bleak House and have not looked back since. Born of a fear that I would struggle with his prose and subject choices, I constantly found excuses to push him to the bottom of my reading pile. Breaking down the wall that stood between me and Charles Dickens has simply proved this point.
In my view, those books that we steer away from because of personal prejudices or concerns are those we would garner the most benefit from reading (unless of the Fifty Shades of Grey variety, obviously).
I enjoy a challenge and believe, for the most part, that reading should require us to push certain boundaries. It is extremely rare for me to actively avoid a certain novel on the basis of difficulty.
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