East and West in Murakami's Stories

I’ve been thinking about what western culture represents in Murakami’s stories. There is no doubt that they are essential parts of his stories. His characters listen to jazz music, cook spaghetti and read American fiction. It almost feels like his stories are drowned in references as he constantly sprinkles in names of bands, pieces or literary works. Conversely, there seems to be a lack of clear influences or references to Japanese culture and traditions. I’m starting to think that although traditional Japanese influences seem less prominent upon first glance, most of not all of his characters still have mentalities that are in line with the Japanese norm. Yet because they are also drawn to elements in the western culture, they end up with unique inner conflicts that result in their isolation from the world around them. Although the novel doesn’t highlight this aspect, the characters Murakami describes must somewhat be the uncommon ones in their environment. In that reality, it must be difficult for them to find others who are interested in the same things as them. In a way, they are destined to be the outliers in both the western and Japanese culture, which results in them having this deep loneliness that they cannot seem to shake. 

But in another sense, west and east in his story might not even be what it seems. Thinking back to the France and Germany essay we read, it’s not too far-fetched to assume that Murakami is simply using the dichotomy between the two cultures as symbols for something else. It seems like in his stories, his Bokus are usually the ones who go on transformational journeys that change their perspectives drastically. I wonder if a character’s affinity to the west represents a kind of openness to change. Just like how they are drawn to understanding and learning from foreign cultures, perhaps these characters are also more willing to change the way they view and interact with the world. Because of their affinity to what’s different from what they’ve known, it is natural that they, instead of others around them, are the ones who travel into another dimension where animals speak and dreams become realities. Considering Murakami also writes in a style that’s uncharacteristic for a Japanese author, often not using proper names for his characters, one could argue that even the form of his fiction echoes this notion of foreignness. In fact, what makes his work “un-Japanese” is probably what gives his work its transcendental quality. 

We talked about the skepticism that lies at the heart of postmodernism and how this genre seeks to challenge established institutions and question the objectivity of our reality. In this sense, Murakami’s work lies solidly within the realm of postmodernist literature. So if this is the case, maybe to a certain extent readers analyze Murakami’s works too “seriously.” Maybe a cat is just a cat in his stories, and it just so happens that someone understands the language they speak and nothing more. Maybe his stories are supposed to seem a bit absurd. But to understand their message is to accept how concretely these absurdities present themselves in those stories. Perhaps we also just need to be open to change and to the foreignness of Murakami’s stories to truly understand them. 

 

Cora