From the Archives: An Interview with Haruki Murakami
This interview was first published in 2005 in Waterstone’s Books Quarterly, a long-defunct magazine that used to be on sale in Waterstone’s bookshops in the UK, back in the days when they still used an apostrophe in the name. Three years earlier I had met Murakami when I interviewed him on stage at the Prince Charles Cinema in London as part of his promotional tour for after the quake. This Q&A coincided with UK publication of his acclaimed novel, Kafka on the Shore.
Kafka On The Shore was published in Japan in 2002 but the English translation will be published for the first time in January 2005. What are your thoughts on the book now that some time has elapsed since its creation?
HM: Since most of my novels aren’t deeply involved in contemporary, journalistic issues, I don’t think there’s any real problem in having a time lag of two or three years before they appear in English. Translating a novel takes time, so literature is transmitted abroad more slowly than music or movies. I’ve always wanted to write powerful works that go beyond that sort of time lag. What I want to write about in my novels is the universal landscape found in people’s emotions, a shared place that exists beyond time and distance.
Kafka has been seen as a departure from your previous books. Your choice of a fifteen-year-old narrator, and also sections in the third person, are certainly new to your novels. Were you deliberately trying a different approach to writing this book?
HM: Most of my fiction up til now has been first person narratives dealing with a male protagonist (and narrator) in his twenties or thirties. A few years ago, however, I started taking a different direction and began writing in a different voice and perspective. The short story collection after the quake was also entirely in the third person. There’s something about that style of writing that suits me. Most likely this stems from my desire to write from a broader perspective about all kinds of people of different backgrounds, ages, and personalities. In that sense I guess you could say that both Underground and after the quake were turning points for me. In any case, whenever I write a new novel I decide on a theme and attempt to do something new and different.
As a young man you were influenced by the music and writing coming from America, rather than Japanese culture. What were these influences?
HM: I think this is like asking an Englishman like Eric Clapton why he’s so drawn to the blues. If you asked Clapton the same question, I have a feeling he’d shrug his shoulders and say he isn’t sure why.
The reaction in Japan to your novel Norwegian Wood was so overwhelming that you decided to leave the country for several years. How do you handle the desire to find an audience for your work when you are essentially a private man who avoids publicity?
HM: To find an audience for my works I simply try to write books that are interesting and appealing. Books that make readers want to buy my next book when it comes out. And I do my best not to disappoint them. I’ve been writing fiction for twenty five years now and haven’t done anything to speak of beyond writing. And thankfully the number of my readers is growing steadily. It isn’t me seeking out readers, rather the books themselves that find the readers. That’s how I see it.
To tell the truth, I don’t particularly like appearing in front of people. I just want to live a normal life like anybody else. Everyday I take the subway, ride buses, go shopping and go for walks. What I’d hate most would be to have that freedom taken away from me.
The majority of your books, primarily your non-fiction, have never been published in English. I suspect you enjoy being able to control which books we get to read in the West. What sort of subjects have you tackled with our non-fiction and will we ever get the opportunity to read them?
HM: I’ve published quite a few books of essays and travel writings in Japan, but unlike my fiction I don’t feel there’s any point in publishing translations of these abroad. Most of these books are light entertainment, with Underground, with its overarching theme, being the exception. These books deal with everyday, local themes, and often contain a lot of word play, so I suspect there would be many places in them that foreign readers would have trouble following. One thing I can say is that whatever is best about me as a writer is found in my novels.
Waterstone’s booksellers voted your novel The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle as one of the 20 greatest books of all time. How important was that book in your career?
HM: As far as my career is concerned, certainly The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is one of my most important novels. I’m sure that my importance as a novelist would have been greatly affected if this book hadn’t appeared. Completing that novel took an enormous amount of time and effort, and I have a strong sense that the process has raised me to the next level as a novelist.
Some of your early books and stories were made into films in the 80s. After a very long gap you have allowed some more adaptations — The Elephant Vanishes stage show and Tony Takitani the movie — are you happy with what these directors made of your work and can we expect to see any more Murakami books on the big screen soon?
HM: I make it a rule not to see film and stage versions of my works. When I write a work, I’m already creating a movie or play in my mind and don’t feel like watching someone else’s new movie or stage version. These may be very well done; all of my friends, for instance, told me that Simon McBurney’s adaptation of The Elephant Vanishes for the stage was wonderful. But I prefer holding onto the mental image I’ve created myself.
The issue of making a film or play out of my works has come up several times, and at present some of these are going forward and others we’re in the process of negotiating. Still, I think making a film or drama out of one of my novels must be a difficult task, and I don’t see it easily materializing. Honestly, I’m not all that enthusiastic about seeing my work turned into films. Of course, if Woody Allen directed after the quake or David Lynch made a version of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, then I might want to see those.
What elements of contemporary culture excite you nowadays? What are you listening to and reading in 2004?
HM: I don’t think that very much in contemporary culture has attracted me in the past year. Mostly I’ve been listening to old music on old analog records, and rereading books that I read in the past. I’m not trying to intentionally avoid new things; it’s just that I don’t feel the necessity of bringing in new things into my life all the time. So I always end up reaching out for the old. I will say, though, that I always have the lastest recordings by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Ryan Adams*, and R.E.M. in my car stereo, and the latest Elmore Leonard novel with me when I travel.
And finally, what can English readers expect from the pen of Murakami in the next few years?
HM: In September, 2004 I published a short novel called After Dark in Japan. This novel is written from beginning to end in third person, in present tense, and follows a nineteen-year-old girl in downtown Tokyo on one night. My wife tells me she prefers this novel to anything I’ve ever written, but I don’t know how much the public’s reaction will overlap with hers. Next spring I’ll also be bringing out a children’s book entitled The Strange Library. The Sheep Man appears in this one. The story’s about a boy who comes to borrow a book from a library and is taken captive by a weird old man who lives in the basement of the library. It’s an illustrated book.
In the U.S. and England in 2006 we’ll be bringing out a new short story collection of mine, the second one in English after The Elephant Vanishes. And then After Dark will be translated and published after that, in 2007.
*Despite the fact I made it perfectly clear that Murakami’s answer referred to Ryan Adams, the American singer-songwriter, the editors of the magazine took the unilateral decision to change it to Bryan Adams, the Canadian soft-rocker. To be fair, Murakami does like Bryan, and writes about his music in What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, so hopefully he didn’t mind too much.
