The premise is simple: during the sweltering summer of 2010, I stumbled upon the Modern Library's 100 Best Novels list online. I decided that I was going to take a few years and go through the entire dang thing, and to spice up the endeavor, I was going to bring my fiancé along.


D.B. (my fiancé) and I will read books from the list (picked at random) in pairs. Between the pairs, we're allowed an "off-list" book for pleasure.


Let's do this:

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Off-List: South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami

During the summer, shortly before embarking on the list with D.B., I had my first exposure to Murakami with The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. D.B. had been emphatically recommending I read that book for years.  After months of false starts, I finally broke through last summer and made it through the entire beast.  I was pretty much blown away.  While the novel definitely has difficult bits to get through, I find that a lot of my favorite books, plays, movies, albums, etc. require a certain amount of endurance and constitution.  As long as there is artistry (as opposed to pure tedium, often the case), I find difficult works cathartic and majestic.  Like the secrets they contain come at a cost.  I also am a sucker for writers who do "dreamy" well.  Extremely rare.  Paul Auster and Murakami do it very well.  As a reader, I sink into their writing.  I think one of the secrets of effective dreamy writing is not random weirdness, but rather following an hidden yet established logic of the dreamworld.

Anyway, my point is this: after Wind-Up Bird, I wanted more.  D.B. recommended South of the Border, West of the Sun.  While Wind-Up followed one protagonist, the novel is a stack of many storylines.  South of the Border is stripped, stripped down.  The story is simple: Hajime loses touch with Shimamoto, the love of his life, at 12 years old, grows up, marries, has two kids, opens up a pair of very successful jazz bars.  One random, drizzly night, over 20 years after losing touch, Shimamoto walks into the bar looking for Hajime.  The story is a melancholic etude on "What If?"

The book feels like light, misty rain.  I know the story takes place in Tokyo, but I can't help but imagine L.A.  A neon-lit, low-to-the-ground, cheerfully sad place.  I also appreciate Murakami taking a more considered and thoughtful take on infidelity.  His stance is certainly not pro-affair, but he asks questions regarding hanky-panky.  Does the reward ever outweigh the cost?  How does a marriage work through infidelity?  What reasons beyond love make a marriage worth saving?

RECOMMENDATION?  Minor Murakami.  If you're new to the author, I would recommend starting elsewhere unless you insist on testing the waters first with this lovely, quietly sad, simple novel (almost a novella).  But I'd recommend taking the plunge and starting with The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.

The Moviegoer is next.  Post forthcoming...
-N.C.

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