Haruki Murakami / Kafka pe malul mării

Posted on October 24, 2013 by


Haruki Murakami este o obsesie pentru majoritatea cititorilor săi (murakamism), cineva mărturisea că atunci când îl citește trebuie să-și pună viața pe planul al doilea. Percepția asupra lui Haruki Murakami mai are încă o particularitate frumoasă, cititorii săi își exprimă simpatia, admirația și pasiunea pentru cărțile sale prin a crea și ei ceva pornind de la ele.

Iată un mic colaj bazat pe modul în care e perceput Murakami, de data aceasta pornind de la personajul din Kafka pe malul mării, Nakata:

“Mr. Hoshino?”
‘Tm scared. As I told you , I’m completely empty. Do you know what it means to be completely empty?”
Hoshino shook his head. ” I guess not.”
“Being empty is l ike a vacant house . An unlocked , vacant house . Anybody can come in , anytime they want. That’s what scares me the most. I can make things rain from the sky, but most of the time I don’t have any idea what I’m going to make rain next. If it were ten thousand knives, or a huge bomb, or poison gas – I don’t know what I ‘d do . . . . I could say I’m sorry to everybody, but that wouldn’t be enough .”

“Johnnie Walker went inside Nakata. He made me do things I didn’t want to. Johnnie Walker used me, but I didn’t have the strength to fight it. Because I don’t have anything inside me.”
“Which explains why you want to go back to being a normal Nakata . One with substance?”

Cărțile bune devin câteodată obsesii despre care se tace.   Cam așa (Kafka Tamura) : But neither one of us can put it into words . Putting it into words will destroy any meaning.

This forest is basically a part of me, isn’t it? This thought takes hold at a certain point. The journey I’m taking is inside me. Just like blood travels down veins, what I ‘m seeing is my inner self, and what seems threatening is just the echo of the fear in my own heart. The spiderweb stretched taut there is the spiderweb inside me. The birds calling out overhead are birds I ‘ve fostered in my mind. These images spring up in my mind and take root.

In the back of the book there’s a penciled note Oshima had written. His handwriting’s pretty easy to spot: It’s all a question of imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine. It’s just like Yeats said: In dreams begin responsibilities. Flip this around and you could say that where there’s no power to imagine, no responsibility can arise. Just like we see with Eichmann.

I insist that you can’t be held responsible for something you can’t remember. I don’t have any idea what really took place, I tell them. But they counter with this: “It doesn ‘t matter whose dream it started out as, you have the same dream. So you’re responsible for whatever happens in the dream . That dream crept inside you , right down the dark corridor of your soul.”

In the afternoon dark clouds suddenly color the sky a mysterious shade and it starts raining hard, pounding the roof and windows of the cabin . I strip naked and run outside, washing my face with soap and scrubbing myself all over. It feels wonderful. In my joy I shut my eyes and shout out meaningless words as the large raindrops strike me on the cheeks, the eyelids, chest, side, penis, legs, and butt – the stinging pain like a religious initiation or something. Along with the pain there’s a feeling of closeness, like for once in my l i fe the world’s treating me fa irly. I feel elated, as if all of a sudden I ‘ve been set free. I face the sky, hands held wide apart, open my mouth wide, and gulp down the falling rain.

“Listen – I’m not killing cats just for the fun of it. I’m not so disturbed I find it amusing,” he went on. “I’m not just some dilettante with time on his hands. It takes a lot of time and effort to gather and kill th is many cats . I’m killing them to collect their souls, which I use to create a special kind of flute . And when I blow that flute it’ll let me collect even larger souls . Then I collect larger souls and make an even higger flute . Perhaps in the end I’ll be able to make a flute so large it’ll rival the universe . But first come the cats. Gathering their souls is the starti ng point of the whole project. There’s an essential order you have to follow in everyth ing. It’s a way of showing respect, following everything in the correct order. It’s what you need to do when you’re dealing with other souls. It’s not pineapples and melons I’m working with here , agreed?”  (Johnnie Walker)

“You have to look ! ” Johnnie Walker commanded. “That’s another one of our rules. Closing your eyes isn’t going to change anything. Nothing’s going to disappear just because you can’t see what’s going on. In fact, things will be even worse the next time you open your eyes. That’s the kind of world we live in , Mr. Nakata . Keep your eyes wide open. Only a coward closes his eyes. Closing your eyes and plugging up your ears won’t make time stand still.”

“But why-” I begin to say, but can’t finish. “Why are we doing this? It’s all based on a very simple principle. I understand you, and Miss Saeki understands me. I accept you, and she accepts me. So even if you’re some unknown fifteen-year-old runaway, that’s not a problem. So, what do you think?”

“Kafka, in everybody’s life there’s a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can’t go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive. “

Haruki Murakami

Bonus: un documentar despre Haruki Murakami –


Vouă de ce vă place Murakami?