wrengaia's reviews
1045 reviews

Marvellous. Needs rereading. Just incredible.

*diss reading

Murakami synthesises the two seemingly disparate parts of this novel into a beautiful whole, working their dissonance to produce something of a sort of whimsical splendour. ‘Hard boiled wonderland’ is one of his earliest novels, and in many ways it *reads* as a younger work, particularly in its ability to roam freely and relentlessly create and recreate its own borders. As a storyteller, I genuinely think Murakami is close to being unmatched; though there are blemishes to his work (the way he writes about women, or moments/motifs that have become ‘Murakami cliche’), the sheer originality of his novels and the delicate control he has over the delivery of his narratives is just incredible. 

Karashima is a background presence in the tale he has told of Murakami’s rise to international success. The text is a collage of various interviews and letters; Karashima’s role as a ‘writer’ seems to have been not to offer analysis on the unfolding events of publication and translation but rather to be the arch-voice sewing disparate snippets and quotations together. So, while this is an enormously interesting book, its telling leaves rather a lot to be desired. 

The complexity of publication, particularly in translation, is a hidden labour that cannot be surmised or understood from the finished product. Murakami’s reputation - that he is a solitary, long-distance running and somewhat stoic writer - does not at all take into account the complex teamwork behind his translated works. The extent to which the translators have overtly edited and changed his work for an English-speaking readership is quite remarkable, and a reminder of the importance of considering the role of the translator and the consequences of translation as a practice, whenever reading a translated work. I suppose, cynically, this book is perhaps meant to highlight the more ‘scheming’ parts of Murakami’s success - dropping his initial translator for Jay Rubin, or tactically switching publishers - but I think what came across instead was just an image of the publishing world as a world of ‘business’ like any other. Had Karashima offered any analysis, though, the impression may have been markedly different.

To summarise, this is an interesting book solely because its subject matter is so interesting. It is honestly quite badly written; I reached the end mourning for what could have been, had the same wealth of archival material been in the hands of a more competent or analytically minded writer. Nonetheless, a very interesting story for any fan of Murakami’s work.

Deakin’s quest to swim the British isles has no objective or criteria beyond a sheer love of swimming and a desire to explore. The aimless and wandering journey Deakin undertakes traverses the country in search of experience, though not a ‘superlative’ or ‘best’ wild swim, but rather for the continued delight of the swim and the spirit of exploration. Without a doubt the most marvellous parts of this book are the descriptions of the swims themselves. Deakin is at one with the water and his writing conveys the sheer delight of the swim with a kind of quiet fervour. Interspersed between, though, are commentaries upon our national attitude towards wild places which are both quietly angry and punctuated with a profound grief for all that we have lost and are losing (even more so in the years since this book was written), and, as a counterbalance, a loving homage to the culture of swimming and the individuals who take as much joy in the water as Deakin. A truly wonderful book.

An interesting view of modern russia through the lens of television, but ultimately a book that just makes the same point a whole bunch of times without particularly adding to its complexity with each restatement. Nagging throughout is a question of the author’s own integrity - if he was witnessing all of these things, thinking about them as critically as he claims to have been, then why did he stay so long? For the purposes of the text it is reframed as a sort of extended exercise in investigative journalism, but i think the work would have benefitted from a more honest reflection on what it meant to have been complicit in the construction of these media fantasies, to have been a part of the machine. 

phenomenal. genuinely the best novel i have read in a long time


*diss reading

this play will never cease to yield more on each re-read - entirely unparalleled. 

Coetzee is a delicate and powerful writer - Foe unwinds, rather than journeying towards conclusiveness, unravelling its own assumptions and acting as a swift but deadly attack on Defoe’s (rather awful) novel. Really very good; navigates not just colonialism but its very particular literary manifestations.

like yeah, of course this is good and comprehensive and interesting but it’s also pretty limited in being so capital C canonical, and quite preach-y. Obviously it needs to be brief and in being brief must omit a lot, but also you can tell this guy was a Cambridge prof (not in a good way). Regardless, a solid introduction, but not the kind of literary critic i particularly revel in reading

enjoyable. very good as an audiobook. scratched my running nerd itch