![]() Here I was reading page after page and Murakami manipulated it to the last word. It was one of the first books to truly make me realise how much our experience as a reader is in the hands of the author. I loved the bizarre things that happened, the events that shocked me, the surrealism of real life getting intermingled with dreams and the annoyance over Murakami’s ability to end a book perfectly while leaving a hundred questions unanswered. I fell in love with the strangeness, the prose and everything from talking cats to soldiers that stopped aging. It’s been almost two years since I read it and I need to read it again at some point. Kafka on the Shore is the book that started my literary love affair with Haruki Murakami. In the event that I find myself being forced to live on an island, on my way I’d grab a few copies of Murakami – and probably The Martian by Andy Weir – to take with me. ![]() ![]() Anyone who knows me, or the subtitle of my blog, knows how much I love Haruki Murakami. ![]()
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