If there is any Murakami story that makes the emotional function of food obvious, it would be "The Second Bakery Attack," where hunger becomes a sort of tension, dissatisfaction and symbolism for marital unease. The couple's overwhelming craving is used as a way to externalize the hidden emotions they do not verbalize which is absurd, but clear symbolism Murakami utilizes to express characters' feelings. What is interesting to me is that after noticing this dynamic in the Bakery Attacks, I began to see them elsewhere in Murakami's short stories.
In “Barn Burning,” smoked salmon, roast beef sandwiches, and blueberry ice cream reflects the couple’s inappropriately smooth surface. Food is excessive because the characters are withholding something. Hospitality becomes a mask.
In “Sleep,” the narrator’s ritualistic consumption of brandy + chocolate + precise plates translate her emotional void into appetite. She eats more precisely when she feels the least human. The food becomes the shape that her suppressed inner life takes.
Even “Samsa in Love” uses awkward eating to reveal Gregor’s fragility. His clumsy bites embody his confusion more clearly than any dialogue.
Lastly, in "The Year of Spaghetti," a singular, repetitive dish is framed as a portrait of loneliness, where the narrator cooks spaghetti obsessively because he has no one to share it with.
I just noticed across multiple texts that Murakami’s characters don’t always say what they feel, but the food they eat or make sometimes act as an avenue for self expression when things are difficult to verbalize. These are just a few examples of many, but I am curious to discuss if this is a pattern or just a coincidence.
-Josh K.
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