Norwegian Wood

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami Book Review

Norwegian Wood was the work that propelled the famed contemporary Japanese writer, Haruki Murakami, from the depths of celebrity into the realms of superstardom (something that occurred much to his disdain), and is often viewed as ‘the Japanese book’, ‘everyone’ in Japan having at some stage looked into its pages, and having read the famous work, I can clearly understand why. It follows the ways and whims of the adolescent Toru Wantanabe, a wallflower if ever there was one who ‘[doesn’t] go out of [his] way to make friends’ because ‘it just leads to disappointment’, and the decision presented before him, to choose between a past full of death and pain or pursuing a promising, although scary, future. In this book review I will explore both the main themes of Murakami’s work, along with the strengths and weaknesses of his style as a writer.

Toru has to choose between two girls in the novel, Naoko, an ethereal, but traumatised individual who represents his past and Migori, a lively individual who represents a possible future. It is made clear early on that Naoko, the former girlfriend of his late friend with whom she felt almost ‘physical joined’ to, is not the right choice for Toru, the all-too-painful past forever acting as a barrier for their future happiness, as seen in Toru’s noting that ‘[he] could have closed the distance between [him and Naoko] but something held [him] back’, this something being the ghost of his late friend, Kizuki. It is also notable how for much of the book the two ‘avoid any mention of the past’ as a subject, meaning that it always remains in the background as an opposing force. This idea of Naoko belonging solely in Toru’s past and not his future is also subtly portrayed when Toru notes how ‘[Naoko looks] like one of the beautiful girls you see in woodblock prints from the middle ages’. Naoko is also clearly traumatised from her awful past, having had to suffer both the deaths of her boyfriend and her sister. Midori, in contrast, despite similarly being surrounded by death herself (in this case the deaths of both her parents), is a lively, hopeful and sprightly individual as seen in her stating how she is ‘a real, live girl, with real live blood gushing through [her] veins'. Midori represents a hopeful future whilst Naoko represents a desolate past, indeed Toru hopefully admitting his certainty that ‘[him and Midori] could make it’. Eventually, as the novel reaches its close, and following the unfortunate suicide of Naoko (clearly her way of letting Toru go so he can achieve the happiness she cannot), Toru admits his love for Midori and the book ends on a rather ambiguous note following this:

'Where was I now? I had no idea, no idea at all!'

Toru, despite being somewhat lost and confused as where to go next, at least has a chance to achieve happiness, when before with Naoko no such chance was available. The sense of confusion and being lost indeed reflects how life is now what Toru makes of it, in other words he can chose where he’s heading to. Murakami presents all these precedent events in a rather fatalistic fashion, the chance meetings of Toru with both girls seeming to have been somewhat destined, in meeting Naoko for instance, Toru notes how both ‘had not planned to meet [one another] but had run into each other'.

Murakami’s exploration of adolescent sexuality is also rather interesting along with his challenge of the precept ‘sex is just sex’, one that Toru’s friend Nagasawa swears by. Nagasawa is a rather odd specimen having been consistently unfaithful to his girlfriend of three years, defending himself by noting how a man’s ‘sexual needs’ must be fulfilled somehow, but that the sex itself is meaningless, merely being a means to meet an end. At the novel’s preface, Toru, although sceptical of Nagasawa’s chosen lifestyle, often joins him on his various trips of promiscuity but, as the tale progresses, so does the decline of his sleeping around. Furthermore, the sexual encounters that Toru does involve himself in are portrayed as having real meaning and being the right thing as it were, challenging the claim that ‘sex is just sex’. Examples of this can be seen in Toru and Midori’s first romantic encounter where it is noted that ‘[they] had felt something warm and close and…both probably wanted, half consciously, to preserve that mood in some form', the sense of mutual consent and comprehension adding a rather magical feel. Equally, the sensual beauty and intimacy of…

'I traced the outline of her body through her gown with the flat of my hand. From shoulder to back to hips, I ran my hand over her again and again, driving the line and the softness of her body into my brain'

…in describing an encounter of Toru and Naoko is very successful in crushing Nagasawa’s view that sex is not an intimate act, and is merely a means to meet an end. It is a credit to Murakami’s descriptions and writings that he is able to tackle such a prerequisite.

Another theme throughout is that of mental health and death, issues that are epitomised in the character of Naoko, her mental illness indeed being a strong barrier to her possible future with Toru. Her mental illness is described as having ‘deep roots’ and often ‘people talk to [her] from the darkness’ when she is alone. If Toru stuck with her it is rather clear that he would have eventually been sucked into her void of unhappiness or else spent forever waiting for her recovery. Death is also explored in a rather intriguing manner, the following quote being one scattered often throughout the novel:

‘death exists not as the opposite, but as part of life’

This could be read in a multitude of ways, perhaps noting how the deaths of both her sister and her boyfriend will forever cloud Naoko’s life in the future, taking over it. Perhaps it’s a comment on Murakami’s part that we ought to accept death as part of the course of life in order to achieve some form of happiness, thus not spend forever bemoaning the deaths of others. It could also reflect how we as humans can reach immortality through the personal relations we make in our lifetime, which will be followed on by those who we leave behind. Death seems to somewhat encompass the plot line, several deaths occurring and being mentioned throughout, Naoko seems to be restrained by her mourning whilst Midori manages to keep on living, making Toru’s choice of girlfriend seem all the more obvious to the reader.

I also found the character Reiko, a friend of Naoko’s at the mental asylum she goes to, fascinating. Reiko takes the position of a prophet in the novel almost, often acting as a guide for Toru and aiding him with his decision making. Perhaps the best example of her in action is how a letter from her (announcing Naoko’s death) at last manages to '[smash] the illusory castle that [Toru] had built on that fragile hypothesis [of Naoko's recovery]’. Furthermore, Reiko so much as admits her role herself, noting how she feels as if she’s ‘preaching from a pulpit’. However, the guidance is not only one way, due to Toru’s isolation following Naoko’s death, Reiko is forced to step out of her comfort zone and leave her asylum of eight years in order to face the real world and comfort him.

Music is presented as a tool for memory in the novel, indeed, in a rather conventional manner, a chance listening of The Beatles’ song ‘Norwegian Wood’ causes a middle aged Toru to 'think of all [that he] had lost in the course of [his] life: time gone forever...feelings that [he] would he we know again', and thus induces him into writing the novel so as to ‘think. To understand’ for he has to write down everything ‘to feel [he] fully comprehends'. This generic set out is however excused by the breath-taking story that is written down. Murakami is also heavily successful as a writer in creating flowing yet complex series of dialogue (which take up a large proportion of the work), the many conversations between Reiko and Toru being prime examples of this. I also found his many descriptions as being equally noteworthy, for instance…

'In the spring gloom [the cherry blossoms] looked like flesh that had burst through the skin over festering wounds'

…which occurs following Toru hearing news of Naoko’s death. Through the novel itself, Toru learns so much about life and himself and develops such wisdom that there is lent an almost autobiographical tone, something that Murakami himself laughed off when questioned noting how his childhood was certainly ‘far more boring’ than that of Toru Watanabe.

To conclude, I found reading Norwegian Wood a real pleasure and although Murakami’s simple style of writing makes for a rather easy read it is by no means a ‘simple love story’, having many deep and complex themes. Indeed, I was not at all surprised to find, having read it, the high standing the work holds in its native country, a standing that is much deserved.