Blog Post 2

Realism always makes me cringe. It's something about the complete honesty of the characters and depictions of human actions put so clearly into words. Films like Kids (1995) and Mid90s (2018) come to mind when I think of adolescent realism. Both these films and Murakami's Norwegian Wood have themes of coming of age, sex, friendship, and trauma. The characters don't shy away from foul language or nasty images; Midori's dialogue in particular was especially vulgar and her character was just as funny as she was cringy. I loved how she pointed out Watanabe's peculiar way of talking but she was just as weird in her imagination. Her bluntness was completely different from the closed-off Naoko. Both girls were exposed to death at early ages; I wonder if the manner of death was what set the girls apart. Midori witnessed slow, unwilling death while Naoko witnessed abrupt suicide. Perhaps this is why these girls navigate life so differently. Midori understands the value of life because her family members held on so strongly to it while Naoko's sister and Kizuki couldn't find a reason to go on. Maybe taking care of her dying family members grounded Midori in realism while Naoko fell further into hopelessness.

--Viv Johnson

Blog Post #2

This was my second time reading Norwegian Wood, the first time around being about three years ago during the very beginning of the pandemic. I remember loving the novel, and what left the biggest impression on me more than any plot point was the deep sense of sadness that I felt when I finished it. The book is certainly not a happy one, and none of the characters seem to ever be content. Toru Watanabe's narration, that upon our class discussion I find myself comparing to Nick in The Great Gatsby more and more, is so perceptive and descriptive of others. Although surely biased, Watanabe's narration is so detailed and descriptive of others' psychological states that it almost seems like we are in the heads of the other characters as well, almost like an omniscient narrator. 

Another thing I wanted to note about the comparison between this book and The Great Gatsby is the ending. The ending of this book struck me particularly both times I read it because of how strangely vague it is and how abruptly it seems to end. Murakami's "again and again I called out for Midori from the dead center of this place that is no place" reminds me of Fitzgerald's memorable "and so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past" because they both have this element of mystery and impenetrability. What is this place that is no place? Isn't Watanabe in a phone booth? And what does it mean to be borne back into the past? While we can make inferences about what this symbolic language means, my point is that both novels end on a very vague albeit very poetic note. The theme of the past, evoked explicitly in the last line of Gatsby is also a very prevalent theme in Norwegian Wood, as Watanabe seems to be ceaselessly held back by a past that he has a hard time letting go of. Murakami states how The Great Gatsby is his favorite novel, and while the ending of Norwegian Wood may not be directly inspired from the ending of Gatsby, for me, there is a whiff of similarity between the two. 

-Audree Damiba 

Blog Post #2

 Hi all, I wanted to explore Murakami's the use of sex throughout Norwegian Wood. Upon finishing the novel, some of the sex scenes and portrayal of women left a bad impression on me. Often times, sex was removed from hints of romance or love, even between Toru and Naoko. I noted previously that there is often an imbalance between the participants when sex occurs, but these imbalances do not seem to get resolved, so it feels that women are reduced to their sexuality. When Toru has sex with the "small girl" that he meets in Shinjuku, somehow being around Toru makes her personality do a 180 and she becomes like "a different person", a theme that continues on throughout the novel as the women seem to find sex with Toru irresistible, but for unwarranted reasons, as Toru emphasizes his own ordinariness and does not do anything particularly appealing or romantic. This has the effect of reducing the women as two-dimensional and irrational in the face of a male's presence. Reiko's sexual encounter with the thirteen-year-old girl also strikes the reader as discomforting and assailing. The disconnect between Reiko's physical description of the girl, saying she had "big breasts" and was "picture-perfect beautiful", and the wrongness of the situation sexualizes a young girl, paints lesbianism in a predatory nature, while Reiko's character of being an older sister, mentor-like figure to Naoko becomes corrupted. Similar with Midori stripping her clothes off and showing off her private parts to her father's altar photo, these scenes felt out-of-place to what the reader knows of the characters thus far, and portrays women as hyper-sexual to the point of ignoring rationale. 

Toru having sex with Reiko also somewhat tarnished the ending of the novel for me. The age difference was unsettling, but also the fact that Reiko was one of his friends and for him to have sex with almost all the women he encountered throughout the novel seemed like the women were put there for male gratification. I did find it interesting however, that though Toru stops having sex with other girls because of his love for Naoko, after Naoko dies, he has sex with Reiko, so he is no longer waiting for Naoko. There could be something to be said about sex being used as a means of escape, but characters like Nagasawa consistently engage in sex with no implication that he uses it as a reprieve. As a natural activity, sex could also be used to make the characters more human, but because of some of the morally wrong contexts in which sex appears, it makes the characters less relatable and alienates them from the reader. On another note, Murakami could be using sex as an instinctual and natural process that demonstrates how characters choose life and a process related to life, birth, etc., over death. I do believe deeper meanings can be found in how sex is used throughout the novel, but it often seems to come at the expense of putting down women in some form. 

- Alice Liao

Blog Post 2 - Alex DeRosa

 I wasn't quite sure what to expect going into Norwegian Wood. I knew that it was one of Murakami's most popular works, and that it was a little different from his other books, but that was pretty much it. While I really enjoy Murakami's writing style, I found it difficult to get through this book. 

I liked it a lot in the beginning. I thought the more grounded and realistic approach was nice (although I think I prefer his more surreal and weird work), and I liked how the characters still maintained that "Murakami weirdness" that is generally accepted by everyone in the story's universe. Despite the story's setting feeling very realistic, the characters act very strangely—almost like exaggerated caricatures—and yet, Toru seems to not question it too much. 

However, I think the weirdness relating to sex and women's bodies was a bit gratuitous. It was difficult to read some of these passages, not just because of the disturbing content but rather because of how much space they occupy in the book. I felt like every chapter there were long and graphic descriptions of sex that seemed to go on and on, and they distracted me from the characters and the philosophical themes the book was trying to touch on. I'm not opposed to sex in literature—I think if it's written well and used purposefully, it can be really effective in stories. But, with this book, I had a hard time seeing why it was so excessive. It seemed like some characters existed only to be described in a sexual way, which also didn't quite sit right with me. I found myself wanting more depth and development for Midori, Naoko, Reiko, and Hatsumi. I felt like I didn't really get to know or understand them well, and they felt kind of one-dimensional.

I understand what Murakami was going for with Norwegian Wood, especially regarding the themes of life, death, and coming of age. I wish that more of the descriptions had been dedicated to exploring these themes further or adding depth to other characters. I understand why Murakami is often criticized for the way he writes women—I didn't really see it after WSC, but I definitely see it now. I still enjoy his style a lot, but I couldn't get into this book nearly as much as WSC. 

Blog Post #2

 Hi all, 

I wanted to use this week's blog post to touch upon a specific scene I really enjoyed within Norwegian Wood. I think that this scene in particular added much to the story, character development, and my overall enjoyment of the work. The scene I am referring to, one I was quite touched by, was the interaction between Toru and Midori's father in the hospital.

As one of my classmates noted during discussion during the past week, throughout much of the novel Toru is often on the receiving end of other characters spouting their life's story and gives the occasional muted, yet deliberate response. Toru's responses are often much shorter than the person's whom he responds to, and in most cases he is much more of a listener than a speaker. However, in his conversation with Midori's father, these roles are reversed. Perhaps it is ironic that the only conversation he is able to dominate is one with someone who is physically incapable of dominating a conversation. Regardless, I thought the way Toru opened up to Midori's father was unlike many of his previous and later conversations, even with people he knew far better and should be able to speak with more openly. I felt as if Midori's father, too, quite enjoyed the conversation he had with Toru. I also greatly appreciate being able to try the coveted "cucumber wrapped in nori dipped in soy sauce" snack that was so tasty to the bedridden cancer patient, because I can't lie I was morbidly curious as to what the fuss was about (thanks professor!). 

I believe that the final line Midori's father says to Toru, that involving Ueno station and taking care of Midori, is far more important to the story than it initially seems. I believe this is the point where Toru decides between Naoko and Midori, exactly when he says he will take care of Ueno station and Midori. Additionally, the hospital interaction plays an important role in the final scene of the novel. This scene takes place in Ueno station, and the final line spoken by any character is Midori's "Where are you?" (The answer, never given by Toru, being Ueno station). I feel that Toru's conversation with Midori's father was foreshadowing for this very event, that the old man somehow knew that Ueno station would play a significant role in the relationship between Toru and his daughter. Perhaps this working class bookstore owner had similar predictive powers to Boku's beautifully eared girlfriend in A Wild Sheep Chase? Overall, I believe this scene was my favorite in the book. It deepened Toru's character by revealing him capable and caring of those around him more than any other scene, and to me was the very scene that determined his resolve, and his future with Midori. 

Thanks for reading!

- Sam Soares

Blog Post #2 - Norwegian Wood

 Norwegian Wood is the third work of Murakami that I've read and I have to say, I enjoyed it more than A Wild Sheep's Chase and 1Q84. The story was straightforward, was quite realistic (in the sense it lacked fantasy or highly unreal, unexplainable circumstances), but the ending again got me all "arghhh what does this meannnnn??!?" I think I tend to enjoy novels that are realistic and/or understandable. I found Watanabe's interactions with the various women in Norwegian Wood to be mirrors of common relationship tropes we see in western writing. Watanabe and Naoko is more of a first love that doesn't work out later; Watanabe and Midori is a friends turned lovers situation; ignoring the sex scene at the end of the book, Watanabe and Reiko ends up being a mentee/mentor type of relationship; and Watanabe and Hatsume are really just acquaintances with no feelings between them. 

I really enjoyed the chapters when Watanabe went to the sanitorium to visit Naoko and Reiko, and the small snippets where we'd get a letter from Naoko or Reiko about the sanitorium's happenings. I felt relieved when Naoko was making a quick recovery once she had moved to a proper hospital because I am a big fan of slow burn angst kind of vibes that turn fruitful. Needless to say, my jaw dropped when Naoko killed herself. 

I also enjoyed reading about Watanabe's relationship with Midori. I think Midori, after they took their trip, forced Watanabe to do something he wouldn't have usually done which was to break curfew, let alone for a girl, and let alone to not sleep with her! Midori was a breath of fresh air that Watanabe so desperately needed, but he just didn't know he needed it more than Naoko. 

Much like Watanabe's move out of the dorms and into the real world, the monotony of doing the same thing day in and day out with nothing and no one to pull him out of it definitely contributed to his poor habits. On top of the fact that his main love interest had killed herself, his desire to be nowhere in the city is totally understandable. When he's finally done feeling sorry for himself and calls Midori, I think Watanabe realizes that he's lost his way and even considers stepping back from everything he's been stumbling through. Hopefully Midori can continue doing what she's doing and pull him out of his trance, but honestly, I think that Watanabe (should the story continue) will kill himself. I'm hoping that when I watch Norwegian Wood over the spring break, that the ending will make a little more sense.

Stay tuned.

Alexander Wen

Blog #2

     Looking back on these two books, while I enjoyed both quite a bit I did enjoy Norwegian Wood more between them. I think this was because of two main things. The first was the clearer theme of Japan, its politics, war, and what Murakami's own ideas about these are. In a Wild Sheep Chase, we see subtle hints to these themes, such as Mishima's suicide on the TV in the beginning, the use of sheep, a non native animal to Japan, and Alice's amazing description of the boss's house and its possible subtle meanings reflecting the left wing of Japan and the right wing of Japan. However, all these ideas were kept in the background and had to be looked for which made it feel like Murakami was not yet comfortable with making his opinions known to the public. Which of course, made sense with the atmosphere of Japan in the 70s, 80s, and 90s. But, in Norwegian Wood, Murakami is not afraid to implement more direct ideas towards war and show his opinions. For example, in the very beginning of the book we get the flag raising ceremony, accompanied with the national anthem as well as the description of the dorms creation. Murakami sums his scene structure greatly when Watanabe says the dormitory has "one problem with the place: its political smell." Murakami has taken from his life and experience at Waseda to make a plot of politics and almost even anti-left right separation. If we choose to see Watanabe's ideas as Murakami's own (being that we've already established many Murakami protagonists are based off himself) then we see that Watanabe doesn't quite care for the right or the left. When he says he does not care for the political smell of the right wing built dorms he shows his opinions for not enjoying politics as well as right wing politics. Similarly, when the leftist duo of students came into his Greek tragedy class, he did not really care saying "I had no problem what they were saying but the writing was lame" and continues to detail how their speech and writing was bad and how it was "same old tune with different words." He and Midori leave the class, all of these actions showing that Watanabe/Murakami don't mind the left wing but in a way, there's a disorganized sense to them. Especially using the same old tune with different words, yes it can be interpreted as the left explaining the same ideals over and over again, but it can also be interpreted as the right wing and the left wing having different ideas but they are the same in a sense, both poorly structured and unable to make Japan better with their extremist views making two halves of an ugly whole, again similar to the house in A Wild Sheep Chase. Maybe what Murakami is trying to say is that the separation between parties makes for a unnerving whole but possibly the blend of the two would allow for a better, more pleasing Japanese political system if we assume that is what we get when we put the two wings together. But that's just an idea!! This has gone on a bit too long, but the second part of Norwegian Wood that I loved was Midori, who in my opinion, is one of the best written woman we have read from Murakami in this course so far. 

- Anna-Maria Marinescu