Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami (English) Paperback Book

Description: Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami Kafka Tamura runs away from home to escape his fathers oedipal prophecy and to find his long-lost mother and sister. As Kafka flees, so too does Nakata, an elderly simpleton whose quiet life has been upset by a gruesome murder. High school & older. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description NATIONAL BESTSELLER • From the acclaimed author of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and one of the worlds greatest storytellers comes "an insistently metaphysical mind-bender" (The New Yorker) about a teenager on the run and a deceptively simple old man.Now with a new introduction by the author.Here we meet fifteen-year-old runaway Kafka Tamura and the elderly Nakata, who is drawn to Kafka for reasons that he cannot fathom. As their paths converge, acclaimed author Haruki Murakami enfolds readers in a world where cats talk, fish fall from the sky, and spirits slip out of their bodies to make love or commit murder, in what is a truly remarkable journey."As powerful as The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.... Reading Murakami ... is a striking experience in consciousness expansion."—Chicago Tribune Author Biography HARUKI MURAKAMI was born in Kyoto in 1949 and now lives near Tokyo. His work has been translated into more than fifty languages, and the most recent of his many honors is the Yomiuri Literary Prize, whose previous recipients include Yukio Mishima, Kenzaburo Oe, and Kobo Abe. Review "As powerful as The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.... Reading Murakami ... is a striking experience in consciousness expansion." —The Chicago Tribune "An insistently metaphysical mind-bender." —The New Yorker "If he has not achieved that status already, Haruki Murakami is on course to becoming the most widely read Japanese writer outside Japan, past or present." —The New York Times Long Description "Kafka on the Shore "is powered by two remarkable characters: a teenage boy, Kafka Tamura, who runs away from home either to escape a gruesome oedipal prophecy or to search for his long-missing mother and sister; and an aging simpleton called Nakata, who never recovered from a wartime affliction and now is drawn toward Kafka for reasons that, like the most basic activities of daily life, he cannot fathom. As their paths converge, and the reasons for that convergence become clear, Haruki Murakami enfolds readers in a world where cats talk, fish fall from the sky, and spirits slip out of their bodies to make love or commit murder. "Kafka on the Shore" displays one of the worlds great storytellers at the peak of his powers. Review Quote "As powerful asThe Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. . . . Reading Murakami . . . is a striking experience in consciousness expansion." The Chicago Tribune "An insistently metaphysical mind-bender." The New Yorker "If he has not achieved that status already, Haruki Murakami is on course to becoming the most widely read Japanese writer outside Japan, past or present." New York Times Description for Reading Group Guide NATIONAL BESTSELLER "As powerful as The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle . . . . Reading Murakami . . . is a striking experience in consciousness expansion." --Chicago Tribune The introduction, discussion questions, suggestions for further reading, and author biography that follow are designed to enliven your groups discussion of Kafka on the Shore , the magical new novel by the internationally acclaimed author of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle , Haruki Murakami. Part bildungsroman, part metaphysical thriller, part meditation on the elusive nature of time, Kafka on the Shore displays all the talents that have made Haruki Murakami one of the most beloved novelists in the world today. Discussion Question for Reading Group Guide 1. The first character to speak in Kafka on the Shore is the "boy named Crow" [p. 3]. Who is he? What part of Kafka Tamuras psyche does he represent? 2. "Kafka," we later learn, means "crow" in Czech. What relationship is Murakami trying to suggest between Franz Kafka, Kafka Tamura, the boy named Crow, and actual crows? At what significant moments do crows appear in the novel? What symbolic value do they have? 3. When Kafka meets Sakura on the bus, they agree that "even chance meetings . . . are the results of karma" and that "things in life are fated by our previous lives. That even in the smallest events theres no such thing as coincidence" [p. 33]. What role does fate, or meaningful coincidence, play in the novel? Is it karma that determines Kafkas destiny? 4. Much of the novel alternates between Kafkas story and Nakatas. What effects does Murakami create by moving the reader back and forth between parallel narratives? What is the relationship between Nakata and Kafka? 5. When Kafka is a young boy, his father tells him: " Someday you will murder your father and be with your mother " [p. 202], the same destiny as Oedipus. Kafkas father also tells him that he will sleep with his sister and that there is nothing he can do to prevent this prophecy from being fulfilled. How do Kafkas attempts to escape his fate bring him closer to fulfilling it? 6. The phrase "for the time being" is repeated throughout Kafka on the Shore . Why has Murakami chosen to use this qualifying statement so often? How is the conventional concept of time stretched and challenged by events in the novel? Why does Miss Saeki tell Kafka: "Times rules dont apply here. Time expands, then contracts, all in tune with the stirrings of the heart" [p. 219]? 7. In what ways are the boundaries between past and present, dreaming and waking, fantasy and reality blurred and often erased in Kafka on the Shore ? 8. The teacher in charge of the children who lost consciousness in the woods during World War II writes to her professor many years later and tells him: "I find the worldview that runs through all of your publications very convincing--namely that as individuals each of us is extremely isolated, while at the same time we are all linked by a prototypical memory" [p. 96]. How are the main characters of the novel--Kafka, Nakata, Oshima, Miss Saeki--"extremely isolated"? In what ways do they share a "prototypical memory"? What would that memory be? 9. Kafka Tamura seems, in some mysterious way, to be both Miss Saekis son and the ghost of her long-dead lover. How does Murakami intend us to understand this shifting and apparently impossible dual identity? 10. What is the relationship between Nakatas quest for the "entrance stone" and Kafkas journey into the forest? 11. In what ways can Kafka on the Shore be read as a love story? 12. The supernatural shape-shifter, who takes the form of Colonel Sanders, tells Hoshino that he is neither God nor Buddha but a kind of "overseer, supervising something to make sure it fulfills its original role. Checking the correlation between different worlds, making sure things are in the right order" [p. 284]. What are these different worlds? Is Colonel Sanders talking about parallel universes? 13. Kafka on the Shore is, for the most part, a realistic novel, yet it contains many magical elements--Nakatas ability to talk with cats and make fish fall from the sky, the shape-shifting Colonel Sanders, the middle-aged Miss Saeki visiting Kafka as her fifteen-year-old self. What is Murakami saying about the nature of reality and our beliefs about it through these seemingly impossible episodes? 14. At the end of the novel, Oshima tells Kafka, "Youve grown up" [p. 463]. In what ways has Kafka been changed by his experience? What are the most important things he has learned? Why does he feel he has entered "a brand-new world" [p. 467]? Excerpt from Book Cash isnt the only thing I take from my fathers study when I leave home. I take a small, old gold lighter--I like the design and feel of it--and a folding knife with a really sharp blade. Made to skin deer, it has a five-inch blade and a nice heft. Probably something he bought on one of his trips abroad. I also take a sturdy, bright pocket flashlight out of a drawer. Plus sky blue Revo sunglasses to disguise my age. I think about taking my fathers favorite Sea-Dweller Oyster Rolex. Its a beautiful watch, but something flashy will only attract attention. My cheap plastic Casio watch with an alarm and stopwatch will do just fine, and might actually be more useful. Reluctantly, I return the Rolex to its drawer. From the back of another drawer I take out a photo of me and my older sister when we were little, the two of us on a beach somewhere with grins plastered across our faces. My sisters looking off to the side so half her face is in shadow and her smile is neatly cut in half. Its like one of those Greek tragedy masks in a textbook thats half one idea and half the opposite. Light and dark. Hope and despair. Laughter and sadness. Trust and loneliness. For my part Im staring straight ahead, undaunted, at the camera. Nobody else is there at the beach. My sister and I have on swimsuits--hers a red floral-print one-piece, mine some baggy old blue trunks. Im holding a plastic stick in my hand. White foam is washing over our feet. Who took this, and where and when, I have no clue. And how could I have looked so happy? And why did my father keep just that one photo? The whole thing is a total mystery. I must have been three, my sister nine. Did we ever really get along that well? I have no memory of ever going to the beach with my family. No memory of going anywhere with them. No matter, though--there is no way Im going to leave that photo with my father, so I put it in my wallet. I dont have any photos of my mother. My father had thrown them all away. After giving it some thought I decide to take the cell phone with me. Once he finds out Ive taken it, my father will probably get the phone company to cut off service. Still, I toss it into my backpack, along with the adapter. Doesnt add much weight, so why not. When it doesnt work anymore Ill just chuck it. Just the bare necessities, thats all I need. Choosing which clothes to take is the hardest thing. Ill need a couple sweaters and pairs of underwear. But what about shirts and trousers? Gloves, mufflers, shorts, a coat? Theres no end to it. One thing I do know, though. I dont want to wander around some strange place with a huge backpack that screams out, Hey, everybody, check out the runaway ! Do that and someone is sure to sit up and take notice. Next thing you know the police will haul me in and Ill be sent straight home. If I dont wind up in some gang first. Any place cold is definitely out, I decide. Easy enough, just choose the opposite--a warm place. Then I can leave the coat and gloves behind, and get by with half the clothes. I pick out wash-and-wear-type things, the lightest ones I have, fold them neatly, and stuff them in my backpack. I also pack a three-season sleeping bag, the kind that rolls up nice and tight, toilet stuff, a rain poncho, notebook and pen, a Walkman and ten discs--got to have my music--along with a spare rechargeable battery. Thats about it. No need for any cooking gear, which is too heavy and takes up too much room, since I can buy food at the local convenience store. It takes a while but Im able to subtract a lot of things from my list. I add things, cross them off, then add a whole other bunch and cross them off, too. My fifteenth birthday is the ideal time to run away from home. Any earlier and itd be too soon. Any later and I would have missed my chance. During my first two years in junior high, Id worked out, training myself for this day. I started practicing judo in the first couple years of grade school, and still went sometimes in junior high. But I didnt join any school teams. Whenever I had the time Id jog around the school grounds, swim, or go to the local gym. The young trainers there gave me free lessons, showing me the best kind of stretching exercises and how to use the fitness machines to bulk up. They taught me which muscles you use every day and which ones can only be built up with machines, even the correct way to do a bench press. Im pretty tall to begin with, and with all this exercise Ive developed pretty broad shoulders and pecs. Most strangers would take me for seventeen. If I ran away looking my actual age, you can imagine all the problems that would cause. Other than the trainers at the gym and the housekeeper who comes to our house every other day--and of course the bare minimum required to get by at school--I barely talk to anyone. For a long time my father and I have avoided seeing each other. We live under the same roof, but our schedules are totally different. He spends most of his time in his studio, far away, and I do my best to avoid him. The school Im going to is a private junior high for kids who are upper-class, or at least rich. Its the kind of school where, unless you really blow it, youre automatically promoted to the high school on the same campus. All the students dress neatly, have nice straight teeth, and are boring as hell. Naturally I have zero friends. Ive built a wall around me, never letting anybody inside and trying not to venture outside myself. Who could like somebody like that? They all keep an eye on me, from a distance. They might hate me, or even be afraid of me, but Im just glad they didnt bother me. Because I had tons of things to take care of, including spending a lot of my free time devouring books in the school library. I always paid close attention to what was said in class, though. Just like the boy named Crow suggested. The facts and techniques or whatever they teach you in class isnt going to be very useful in the real world, thats for sure. Lets face it, teachers are basically a bunch of morons. But youve got to remember this: youre running away from home. You probably wont have any chance to go to school anymore, so like it or not youd better absorb whatever you can while youve got the chance. Become like a sheet of blotting paper and soak it all in. Later on you can figure out what to keep and what to unload. I did what he said, like I almost always do. My brain like a sponge, I focused on every word said in class and let it all sink in, figured out what it meant, and committed everything to memory. Thanks to this, I barely had to study outside of class, but always came out near the top on exams. My muscles were getting hard as steel, even as I grew more withdrawn and quiet. I tried hard to keep my emotions from showing so that no one--classmates and teachers alike--had a clue what I was thinking. Soon Id be launched into the rough adult world, and I knew Id have to be tougher than anybody if I wanted to survive. My eyes in the mirror are cold as a lizards, my expression fixed and unreadable. I cant remember the last time I laughed or even showed a hint of a smile to other people. Even to myself. Im not trying to imply I can keep up this silent, isolated facade all the time. Sometimes the wall Ive erected around me comes crumbling down. It doesnt happen very often, but sometimes, before I even realize whats going on, there I am--naked and defenseless and totally confused. At times like that I always feel an omen calling out to me, like a dark, omnipresent pool of water. A dark, omnipresent pool of water. It was probably always there, hidden away somewhere. But when the time comes it silently rushes out, chilling every cell in your body. You drown in that cruel flood, gasping for breath. You cling to a vent near the ceiling, struggling, but the air you manage to breathe is dry and burns your throat. Water and thirst, cold and heat--these supposedly opposite elements combine to assault you. The world is a huge space, but the space that will take you in--and it doesnt have to be very big--is nowhere to be found. You seek a voice, but what do you get? Silence. You look for silence, but guess what? All you hear over and over and over is the voice of this omen. And sometimes this prophetic voice pushes a secret switch hidden deep inside your brain. Your heart is like a great river after a long spell of rain, full to the banks. All signposts that once stood on the ground are gone, inundated and carried away by that rush of water. And still the rain beats down on the surface of the river. Every time you see a flood like that on the news you tell yourself: Thats it. Thats my heart. Before running away from home I wash my hands and face, trim my nails, swab out my ears, and brush my teeth. I take my time, making sure my whole bodys well scrubbed. Being really clean is sometimes the most important thing there is. I gaze carefully at my face in the mirror. Genes Id gotten from my father and mother--not that I have any recollection of what she looked like--created this face. I can do my best to not let any emotions show, keep my eyes from revealing anything, bulk up my muscles, but theres not much I can do about my looks. Im stuck with my fathers long, thick eyebrows and the deep lines between them. I could probably kill him if I wanted to--Im sure strong enough--and I can erase my mother from my memory. But theres no way to erase the DNA they passed down to me. If I wanted to drive that away Id have to get rid of me. Theres an omen Details ISBN1400079276 Author Haruki Murakami Short Title KAFKA ON THE SHORE Language English ISBN-10 1400079276 ISBN-13 9781400079278 Media Book Format Paperback Year 2006 Audience Age 13-17 Residence Oiso, JA Birth 1949 DOI 10.1604/9781400079278 Place of Publication New York Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2006-01-03 NZ Release Date 2006-01-03 US Release Date 2006-01-03 UK Release Date 1900-01-01 Pages 480 Publisher Random House USA Inc Series Vintage International Publication Date 2006-01-03 Imprint Random House Inc DEWEY 895.635 Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:43676567;

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