Norwegian Wood

1. Haruki Murakami has long been both an acclaimed international author and a Back-Blogged hall of famer, and I'd heard from multiple sources that Norwegian Wood was as good an entry point for his bibliography as any. In addition to being short by Murakami standards (just under 300 pages), it's a pretty generic and at least partially autobiographical story. It's also distinctly non-Murakami-esque in that it's set in the real world without any hints of fantasy, science fiction, or surreal elements in general. It was far and away Murakami's breakout hit, and predictably, many of his fans criticized him for "selling out" in writing such a comparably generic and vanilla novel. Murakami has always held that, on the contrary, writing a story rooted so firmly in reality was a big challenge for him. Regardless, Norwegian Wood seemed like a good Murakami starter for me.

2. In many ways, this is a classic coming-of-age tale. It's narrated by a college kid - or more accurately, an adult reminiscing sadly about his college days - named Toru, who struggles with various aspects of growing up. The story takes place in the late '60s in Japan, when civil unrest was prevalent among a younger generation rejecting traditional values and cultural establishments, not at all unlike their Western peers. Toru is introspective and introverted, and seems to meet the movement with a mixture of apathy and cynicism. Hell, Catcher in the Rye is called out in the text multiple times; it's hard not to draw comparisons - though Toru seems far less insufferable than Holden Caulfield.

3. "Coming of age" is a generic phrase, and there are many ways to symbolically leave one's youth and innocence behind. Norwegian Wood focuses largely on loss and death, and what it means to cope with that kind tragedy. The inciting incident occurs when Toru's best and only friend from high school commits suicide just before college begins. Toru and his dead friend's long-time girlfriend, Naoko, each struggle to cope with the loss in different ways. They find solace in one another, and a major theme Norwegian Wood explores is how people bear that kind of tragedy: how they move on, or at least forward, and whether or not they can ever fully heal, and whether or not it's okay not to fully heal. It's well-worn subject matter, and Murakami doesn't really tap into any uncommon territory, but there's a beautiful plainness in the way Murakmi, through Toru, attempts to answer these  timeless questions(*) - particularly as death (by suicide in particular) pops up again and again throughout the story.

(*) Here's an example. "No truth can cure the sadness we feel from losing a loved one. No truth, no sincerity, no strength, no kindness, can cure that sorrow. All we can do is see that sadness through to the end and learn something from it, but what we learn will be no help in facing the next sadness that comes to us without warning." There's nothing profound there, but it's an elegantly stated conclusion. The book is full of that kind of prose, and credit is due to both Murakami and his English translator for turning universally held sentiments into poetic statements. The book, in general, read as lyrically as The Great Gatsby - another novel that pops up multiple times in the narrative, for what it's worth.

4. Many readers are quick to point to a perceived love triangle as the novel's central conflict. I'm not sure I agree. Toru develops deep feelings for two separate women. One is the somber, dour, and generally damaged Naoko, with whom Toru shares the burden of his friend's death, and for whom he feels a great deal of compassion. The other is Midori, a lively and energetic classmate of Toru's who pulls him out of his shell and brings him joy and happiness(*). But there's never any rivalry between the women. Both are entirely unavailable as girlfriends to Toru for different reasons; both are aware and even encouraging of the relationship Toru has with the other one; and Toru sleeps with multiple women outside of his relationship with either one of them. While it's true that Midori and Naoko serve as foils for one another, they're never really romantic rivals. It just seems a bit dishonest to me when summaries use phrases like "love triangle" or "Toru can't decide between" in order to describe the pair of complicated relationships.

(*) I was initially very worried that Midori would turn out to be a manic pixie dream girl prototype of sorts, particularly since she provides such a contrast to the sad and gloomy Naoko, but thankfully she turned out to be a lot more well-rounded than that trope.

5. Lastly, I should discuss my own reaction to the book. It didn't leave much of an impression on me in the early going, and honestly it felt pretty generic. Murakami's writing style was enjoyable all along, but I was a far bigger fan of how he was saying things than of anything he was actually saying; it just wasn't clear to me where the story was going, or even if it was building toward anything at all. Then, of course, it did come to a logical and natural climax, and I felt silly for ever doubting that it would. Norwegian Wood grew on me toward the end, where it all came together thematically and it felt like Toru had, indeed, "come of age." I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and I look forward to more Murakami in the future.