Sundays are for Murakami (South Of The Border, West Of Sun) / Nedjelje su za Murakamija ( Južno od granice, zapadno od sunca)

Sundays are for Murakami. Indeed, this day seems perfect to write about this writer. I always felt there was something dreamy and melanchonic about Sundays. No wonder this Sunday got me thinking about Murakami, about Sputnik and South OF The Border, West of The Sun. This evening I shall speak only about the latter, but tomorrow, who knows? They say that Murakami is one of those authors you either love or hate. I can actually understand how his style of writing might not be for everyone’s taste, but I happen to love him. His unique writing style always had a sort of hypnotic power over me. I feel enchanted when I read his novels, almost like I’m entering some magical world.  Moreover, at times it is almost like I’m in the book myself, a silent observer, but nevertheless, a person very much present. Do you know that feeling when you feel a part of a book right from the start? You only started reading it but you already feel immersed in it? When the first sentences draw you in completely? You’ve just started to read it, but you know you’re going to love it. I don’t know exactly how Murakami does it, but I could make a guess. It is the ease with which he creates his characters, revealing their inner world before our eyes ,in ever more detail, with each page we turn. He is so brilliant at capturing the mood of his protagonists that we can’t help feeling for them and feeling with them. At times it might even seem like we know his characters better than ourselves.

Nedjelje su za Murakamija. Doista, ovaj se dan čini savršen za pisati o ovome piscu. Uvijek mi se činilo da je nedjelja pomalo sanjiv i melankoničan dan. Nije čudno što ove nedjelje razmišljam o Murakamiju, o Sputniku i Južno od granice, zapadno od sunca. Ove večeri govoriti ću samo o ovome posljednjom romanu. Sutra, tko zna? Kažu da je Murakami jedan od pisaca koje ili mrzite ili volite. Mogu razumjeti kako njegov stil pisanja možda i nije za svakoga, ali ja ga volim. Njegov jedinstveni stil pisanja uvijek nad mnom ima neku moć hipnoze. Osjećam  se kao da sam u nekom čarobnom svijetu kada čitam njegove romana, gotovo kao da sam začarana. Doista, nekad imam osjećaj kao da sam i sama u knjizi, tihi promatrač, ali svejedno posve prisutna kao osoba. Znate onaj osjećaj kada se osjećate dijelom knjige od samoga početka? Tek ste je počeli čitati, a već imate osjećaj da ste uronili u nju? Kada vas prva rečenica potpuno uvuče u priču? Tek ste je počeki čitati, a već znate da će vam se veoma svidjeti. Ne znam kako to točno Murakami radi, ali mogla bi pogađati. To je lakoća s kojom stvara svoja likove otkrivajući njihov unutrašnji svijet u detalje sa svakom novom stranicom. On je tako sjajan u hvatanju osjećaja svojih protagonista da jednostavno moramo suosjećati i osjećati s njima. Ponekad se može čak i učiniti da poznajemo njegove likove bolje od njih samih.

“I always feel as if I'm struggling to become someone else. As if I'm trying to find a new place, grab hold of a new life, a new personality. I suppose it's part of growing up, yet it's also an attempt to re-invent myself. By becoming a different me, I could free myself of everything. I seriously believed I could escape myself - as long as I made the effort. But I always hit a dead end. No matter where I go, I still end up me. What's missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I'm still the same old incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I think that lack itself is as close as I'll come to defining myself.” ― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

Both Murakami's writing style and the general mood of his books have something very unpretentious about them. It is, I suspect, a result of great self-control. His books are often quite sad but this emotion is always kept at bay. Murakami writes simply but beautifully; it makes me wonder how he sounds in original (I doubt I’ll ever become fluent in Japanese, so I will have to keep relying on translations). This simplicity and minimalism in writing works very well in this novel, adding another layer of sophistication to it. That is the world I would be tempted to use if I had to describe his books in one word: sophistication. His writing, for most part, doesn’t seem lyrical to me, yet there are always those special moments when his writing style becomes amazingly graceful and poetical. He certainly has his signature style. Murakami uses metaphors and symbols with much ease, creating with them a thing of delicate beauty. What was it that Wilde said? An artist is a creator of beautiful things. You're quite right Wilde, quite right indeed. It is not an easy task to create something touchingly beautiful.

Nešto je posve nepretenciozno u Murakamijevom stilu pisanja i općoj atmosferi njegovih knjiga. Mislim da se tu radi o velikoj samokontroli. Njegove knjige su često jako tužne, ali on drži tu emociju pod kontrolom. Murakami piše jednostavno, ali lijepo, pa se pitam kako zvuči u originalu (no pošto dvojim da ću ikada naučiti japanski, morati ću se pouzdati u prijevode).  Jednostavnost i minimalizam u njegovom pisanju sjajno funkcionira u ovome romanu, dajući mu još jedan sloj sofisticiranosti. Tu bih riječ bila volja upotrijebiti kada bi morala opisati njegova djela jednom riječju: sofisticiranost. Njegovo pisanje mi se većinom i ne čini liričnim, no postoje oni posebni trenuci kada njegove riječi postanu nevjerojatno graciozne i poetične. Svakako ima svoj poseban stila. Murakami se koristi riječima i simbolima s puno lakoće, stvarajući s njima delikatno lijepu stvar. Kako je ono Wilde rekao? Umjetnik je stvaratelj lijepih stvari. Bio si u pravu, doista u pravu. Nije lako stvoriti nešto što je toliko lijepo da dira u srce.

Murakami’s exploration of theme of human loneliness brings Kafka to our minds. Indeed, I can see many similarities between them, not just in the choice of themes explored but to an extent in the writing styles as well. Kafka had this way of making surrealistic/fantastical elements in his work seem perfectly plausible. Murakami uses them in a slightly different way, he is more ambiguous, and when it comes to certain events, you’re never quite sure whether the event being described is real or imagined.  Both writers know how to employ fantastical/surreal to their advantage. Somehow those elements are employed so skilfully by these two writers, that they manage not only to deepen their descriptions of human loneliness and isolation, but give them additional meanings. Murakami’s works feel a bit dreamier than Kafka’s and they do have different styles but there are similarities between them, no doubt about that. It is no coincedence that Murakami mentions Kafka in the title of one of his novels (Kafka On The Shore). 

Murakamijevo istraživanje teme ljudske usamljenosti navodi nas na razmišljanje o Kafki. Doista, mogu vidjeti dosta sličnosti među njima, ne samo u izborima tema koje su istraživali već i do jedne mjere u stilu pisanja. Kafka je imao tu sposobnost da učini da sam se nadrealni i fantastični elementi čine posve mogućima. Murakami ih koristi na malo drukčiji način, on je više ambiciozan i kada se radi o određenim događajima nikada niste sigurni jesu li oni izmišljeni/izmaštani ili su stvarni. Oba pisca znaju kako iskoristiti nadrealno i fantastično u svoju korist.  Nekako ova dva pisca tako dobro upotrijebljavaju te elemente da uspjevaju ne samo produbiti svoj opis ljudske usamljenosti i izolacije, već mu dati i dodatna značenja. Murakamijeva djela su malo više sanjiva od Kafkinih i imaju različit stil, ali među njima stvarno postoje sličnosti. Nije slučajnost da Murakami spominje Kafku u naslovu jednoga od svojih romana ( Kafka na obali).

I was amazed at how easy I found it to sympathize with and feel for the protagonist of South of The Border, West Of The Sun.  The protagonist of this novel, Hajimi, is not by any means a perfect man. It seems that he has a perfect life, though. Married with two children and a successful job- what man could want more? Yet, underneath it all, Hajimi is somewhat unhappy and obsessed with his past. He owns a jazz club, he is married to a woman who adores him, his marriage is by no means build on false pretences- and yet he is so utterly dissatisfied with something, it is like there is something deep inside of him, a worm of doubt eating up his life. Don't we all feel like that sometimes? If there was something in Hajimi’s life that he hates, he could understand it, but there is mystery in his unhappiness, it runs deep. He is a happy man in many ways and he doesn’t hide it, he feels grateful for it even, but there is always a but…. both in life and in literature.

Zadivilo me koliko mi je bilo lako suosjećati s protagonistom ovoga romana. Glavni lik, Hajimi, nije savršen čovjek. No, čini se da ima savršen život. Oženjen, dvoje djece i uspješan posao. Tko bi više poželio? Ipak ispod svega toga, Hajimi je donekle nesretan i opsjednut prošlošću. Vlasnik je jazz kluba, oženjen je ženom koja ga obožava, njegov brak nije građen na laži- no ipak je duboko nezadovoljan s nečim, kao da ga nešto duboko u njemu izjeda, neki crv sumnje mu jede život. Zar se svi mi ne osjećamo ponekad tako? Kad bi postojalo nešto u njegovom životu što mrzi, mogao bi to razumjeti, ali ima misterije u njegovoj nesreći, onda je ima dublje temelje.  On je na puno način sretan čovjek i to ne skriva, čak se i osjeća zahvala, ali...uvijek postoji ali...i u životu i u književnosti.

“I hurt myself deeply, though at the time I had no idea how deeply. I should have learned many things from that experience, but when I look back on it, all I gained was one single, undeniable fact. That ultimately I am a person who can do evil. I never consciously tried to hurt anyone, yet good intentions notwithstanding, when necessity demanded, I could become completely self-centred, even cruel. I was the kind of person who could, using some plausible excuse, inflict on a person I cared for a wound that would never heal.” ― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

Some might see Hajimi as an irresponsible man undergoing a mid-life crisis, but I don’t think is it so simple. This novel is much too complex for something like that. If feels more like a psychological study of character than just an ordinary story about some selfish guy discontent with his life. If our protagonist hurts others, he also hurts himself deeply. The richness of this book is composed of many layers. One of them can certainly be found in its philosophical exploration of the human condition. What does it mean to be human? Why do we always want more? The existentialism is subtly played out in this one, much like music in a jazz bar, it echoes through the room until it becomes a part of you and nests itself somewhere deep in your heart. You either hate it or love it. That’s the way with Murakami. People tend to either be utterly moved by his writing or feel it does nothing for them. Obviously, I fall into the first category. I agonized for and with the protagonist, thought about him perhaps even more that he did himself. 'How can a fictional character think about himself?', someone might ask. If it was you, feel free to imagine me giving you a dirty eye. Seriously thought, one of the things I love about Murakami's protagonists is how brutally honest they are with themselves. They reveal themselves to as wonderfully imperfect in their fragility- and it is hard not to love them.

Neki bi mogli vidjeti Hajima kao neodgovornoga čovjeka koji prolazi kroz krizu srednjih godina, no ne mislim da je to tako jednostavno. Ovaj roman je presložen za nešto takvo. Više je psihološka studija karaktera nego tek obična priča o sebičnom čovjeku nezadovoljnom svojim život. Ako je naš protagonist naudio drugima, naudio je i sebi. Bogatstvo ove knjige ima puno slojeva. Jedan od njih je svakako psihološka studija ljudskoga stanja. Što to znači biti čovjek? Zašto uvijek želimo više? Egzistencijalizam je suptilno upotrijebljen u ovom romanu, kao glazba u jazz baru, odjekuje kroz sobu dok ne postane dio nas i ugnijezdi se negdje duboko u srcu. Ili ga mrziš ili ga voliš. Tako je to s Murakamijem. Ljudi su ili beskrajno dirnuti njegov pisanjem ili im ništa ne znači. Očito ja upadam u prvu kategoriju. Bila sam u agoniji za i s protagonistom, mislila o njemu možda čak i više nego što je on mislio o sebi. "Kako može književni lik razmišljati o sebi?", netko bi se mogao upitao. Ako ste to bili bi, slobodno zamislite kako vas mrko gledam. Za ozbiljno, jedna stvar koja mi se sviđa kod Murakamijevih protagonista je koliko su oni brutalno iskreni sa sobom. Otkrivaju nam se kao divno nesavršenosti u svojoj krhkosti te ih je teško ne voljeti.

What (or whom) is Hajimi looking for, this man who seemingly has it all?   Perhaps it all comes down to his past and a spirit of lost love (the most potent of spirits, right?). Hajimi grow up as a single child in a time when it wasn’t usual for Japanese parents to have only one child. This turned him into an oddity of some kind, perhaps something that we would referred to (in Victorian, colonial and postcolonial literature) as ‘an other'. However, he manages to find another ‘other’- Shimamoto, a girl who is, like himself, a single child. Together these two finally feel complete, but unfortunately they lose touch when they families move away. This childhood friendship/ love continues to haunt our protagonist. Suddenly, Shimamoto reappears and Hajimi, now a married man, is captured under the spell of her mystery. 

Što (ili koga) Murakami traži, taj čovjek koji naizgled ima sve? Možda se sve svodi na njegovu prošlost i duh izgubljene ljubavi (najmoćniji duh, zar ne?). Hajimi odrasta kao jedinac u vremenu kada nije bilo uobičajeno za japanske roditelje da imaju samo jedno dijete. To ga pretvara u nešto neobično, možda nešto što bismo u (u viktorijanskoj, kolonijalnoj i postkolonijalnoj književnosti) nazvali 'drugi'. Ipak, on uspijeva pronaći nekoga kao on- Šimamoto, djevojku koja je kao i on, jedinica. Zajedno se konačno osjećaju potpunima, ali nažalost izgube kontakt kada im se obitelj razdvoje. Ovo dječje prijateljstvo/simpatija nastavlja progoniti Hajimija. Odjednom, Šimamoto se ponovo pojavljuje, i Hajimi, sada oženjen čovjek, je uhvaćen u mrežu njene tajnovitosti. 

Why is this old love so important to Hajimi? Because it is what itching fingers are to a painter. Some illustrators/ painters told me they feel it, a need to draw/paint that is almost physical to the point you can actually feel your fingers itching, longing for a pencil even if you don’t have a clear picture of what you would like to create in your head. For some people love might be like that. Like that physical and spiritual need for creation that artists feel. A yearning for the other than goes deeper that most romantic relationships and perhaps it has nothing to do with the sweetness and tenderness of a  romance. It is not so much sharing and friendship, as a creation of something new. Love, for some, might be that great mystery. He knows almost nothing about Shimamoto and yet she is essential to him,  that only thing that can give him fulfilment and reveal his soul's secrets to him. Hajimi certainly doesn’t idolize Shimamoto, nor does he sing praises to her. He is well aware that he doesn't know her anymore, but he is at the same time,  just utterly and completely fascinated and drawn to her. It seems like something that is genuinely stronger than both of them. 

Can this connection between them be read as a metaphor for something else? Certainly it can, as a metaphor for great many things, but I suppose it is fair to say that it can also be a study of the theme of love itself. This mysterious connection between a man and a woman opens door to many interpetation. Some even claim that Shimamoto is a metaphor for death. According to that reading, Hajimi is drawn to death itself, i.e. has a longing for a suicide but I don't see it as probable. Sure, Shimamoto might symbolize death, but that doesn't mean she's an embodiment of it. I think that complexity of ther relationship goes further than that. In fact, I don't see anything odd in the fact that Shimamoto might be a methaphor for great many things as well as an actual person in the book. Whether she actually reappears in his life or does he imagines her, well, that's another topic. That would be the premise of this novel. To discover what happens next, you’ll have to read the novel. When you do that, you can draw your conclusions about the characters, the story and the message of this book. For me, one of the best things about this novel is that can be read in so many ways.  It is up to us to find a reading that we like best.

Zašto je ova stara ljubav tako važna Hajimiju? Zato što je ona njemu ono što je svrbljenje prstiju slikaru. Neki su mi ilustratori/slikari rekli da osjećaju to, potrebu za crtanjem/slikanje koja je gotovo fizička do mjere da možeš osjetiti da te prsti svrbe, čak i ako nemaš jasnu sliku u glavu onoga što želiš naslikati. Za neke ljude i ljubav može biti takva. Kao fizička i duhovna potreba za stvaranjem koju umjetnici osjećaju. Žudnja za drugim koja ide dublje od većina romantičnih veza i možda i nema nikakve veze s slatkoćom i nježnošću romantike. Nije riječ toliko o djeljenju i prijateljstvu, kao o stvaranju nečega nova. Ljubav za neke, može biti ta velika misterija. On ne zna ništa  o Šimamoto, ali ona je za njega bitna, jedina stvar koja mu može dati ispunjenje i otkriti tajne duše. Hajimi svakako ne kuje Šimamoto u zvijezde i ne smatra je savršenom, svjestan je da je više ne poznaje, ali je u isto vrijeme posve opčinjen i privučen njom. Čini je da je to nešto što je doista jače od oboje od njih. 

Može li se ta veza između njih čitati kao metafora za nešto drugo? Naravno da može, kao metafora za puno toga, ali mislim da je pošteno reći da može biti i studija ljubavi kao takve. Ova misteriozna veze između muškarca ili žena otvara vrata brojnim tumačenjima. Prema tome tumačenju, Hajimija privlači sama smrt, to jest ima želju za samoubojstvom, ali nekako mi se čini da tome nije tako. Naravno, Šimamoto bi mogla biti simbol smrti, ali to ne znači da je ona njezino utjelovljenje. Nije mi ništa čudno u tome da Šimamoto bude metafora za više stvari, a u isto vrijeme i stvarna osoba u knjizi. Je li se ona stvarno ponovo pojavljuje u njegovom životu ili je on zamišlja? To je već druga tema. To bi bila zamisao ove knjige. Želite li otkriti što se dalje događa, morati ćete pročitati roman. Kada to napravite, moći ćete izvući svoje vlastite zaključke o likovi, priči i poruci  ove knjige. Za mene je jedna od najboljih stvari o ovom romanu upravo to što se može čitati na toliko načina. 

What I find so ingenious about this novel is the way it explores numerous question, from why our past holds such a power over us to why is every human being sentenced to an isolation of some kind? This book raises questions, rather than answers them, but it does it so brilliantly, that you feel like the answer must be attainable. I loved the honesty of this book, the unpretentiousness of its philosophy. At times, I had a feeling that Murakami was telling me: “I don’t know the meaning of life and I can’t tell it to you.”, but in some instances I had a feeling I was seeing it with my eyes, in the story (in art) itself and that it is too complex a thing to put into worlds in a straightforward way. That is why we have art. That is why we have literature. To cross the bridges of everyday and banal worries to get to our cores, and examine them- as painful as it can be at times.

Ono što mi je toliko genijalno kod ovoga romana je način na koji istražuje brojna pitanja, od toga zašto naša prošlost ima toliku moć nad nama to toga zašto je svako ljudsko biće osuđeno na izolaciju neke vrste? Ova knjiga postavlja pitanja više nego što odgovara na njih, ali to čini tako dobro da imate osjećaj da odgovor mora biti dostižan. Svidjela mi se iskrenost ove knjige, njena nepretencioznost njezine filozofije. Ponekad sam imala osjećaj da mi Murakami govori da ne zna što je smisao života i da ga stoga ne može izreći, ali u nekim trenucima sam imala osjećaj da ga vidim svojim očima, u samoj priči ( u umjetnosti) i da je zapravo previše složen da bi ga se jednostavno izreklo. Zato imamo umjetnost. Zato imamo književnost. Kako bi prešli mostove svakodnevnih i banalnih briga i došli do svojih temelja i preispitali ih- koliko god to bolno ponekad bilo.