It is very easy to be drawn into the despondent, jazz, whiskey, and sex-filled world of Norwegian Wood without remembering how the book begins. In chapter one, we are briefly introduced to 37-year-old Toru Watanabe on a flight to Hamburg. He hears “Norwegian Wood” by the Beatles and is reminded of Naoko, a woman he was in love with 20 years prior. “Norwegian Wood” was her favorite song, and it brings back painful memories of her suicide. The key detail of this opening chapter comes at the end when he says:
“Writing from memory like this, I often feel a pang of dread. What if I’ve forgotten the most important thing?... Be that as it may, it’s all I have to work with. Clutching these faded, fading, imperfect memories to my breast, I go on writing this book with all the desperate intensity of a starving man sucking on bones.” (Murakami, 9-10)
This is an interesting detail that I missed in my first reading. Here, Toru reveals that what we are about to read is an autobiographical telling of his relationship with Naoko and the important moments during that period of his life. This gives us a crucial perspective and explains some of the facets of the book that are commonly criticized.
A common criticism of Norwegian Wood is that Murakami doesn’t write women very well. While this criticism has merit in some of his other work, I don’t think it applies to this book. I take “well-written” to mean fleshed out, complex, and realistic, and I believe that, aside from Toru, none of the characters fit this definition. For example, the two most prominent male characters, Stormtrooper and Nagasawa, are not likable, nor do they fit the aforementioned definition of “well-written.” Nagasawa is a narcissistic womanizer who likely read a few passages of Nietzsche and thinks of himself as an Übermensch. And Stormtrooper is a neuroatypical clean freak whose only purpose is to serve as the butt of Toru’s jokes because of his OCD. Neither of these characters strikes me as any more “well-written” than the female characters in this book.
This is by design. Murakami makes it clear to us with the quote above that Toru is attempting to write a book, 20 years later, about himself and his memories of a traumatic period. He clearly has trouble remembering and reckoning with this time of his life, and it shows up in his writing. All of the characters have been warped by time, and the small sliver of reality that remains is what we read. Each character is a fragment and a judgment within Toru’s mind, and only the most visceral memories of them play out in the narrative.
What we are reading is Toru’s self-reflection on a time that has had a pivotal impact on his existence. There is no objectivity to this story, and it should not be viewed as such. Each character is only relevant because of their impact on Toru’s character and experience. This book should not be read as a character study or criticized because its characters don’t fit with our views. But rather it should be read as a glimpse into the complexities of memory and trauma, and how our relationships shape us.
Isaac Robillard
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