A review by sminismoni
Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami

3.0

So I would probably give this one 3.5 stars. It’s been a while since I last read Murakami, and certainly weird and cryptic are par for the course with his work, but this one was just a little bit too opaque. At the end of the day, there were too many unanswered questions and the point of the whole thing was obscure. On the plus side, Murakami writes beautifully as always, and his use of motifs and images is accomplished. The colour white crops up again and again, as do tunnels, holes, crevices, caves and darkness. Pregnancy, paternity and the process of birth are referenced, as is death, loss and re-incarnation. As for the negatives, well, it was very slow. The novel moved along at a snail’s pace. The 13 year-old girl’s preoccupation with her breasts was over-done and unrealistic; clearly written by a man. And as mentioned, there were too many loose ends when the novel finished. I wondered what the general mystery about Menshiki actually was; it was constantly alluded to but never resolved. And why the whole back story of the artist Tomohiko Amada (including the suicide of his brother) was all that important – other than being the impetus for the painting in the attic. So, somewhat frustrating and very, very slow.