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A review by joshburtwistle
Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami
2.0
This was my first Murakami. It was probably a long time coming. But I suspect, unfortunately, that this wasn't the best introduction to his work.
There are moments of genuinely haunting imagery, as there are moments of gripping mystery, historical and otherwise. There's homage paid to The Great Gatsby, not unsuccessfully. The trademark surrealism is mostly controlled; held taut, and the plot is broadly cyclical which is satisfying in a vague way.
But for every time your spine tingles, every time a question arises and you grasp for the answer, there are pages and pages of thuddingly repetitive prose, seemingly needless detours and female characters painted with a troubling lack of empathy.
I've had it put to me the possibility that somewhere down the line I may pick this up again and love it. That's true, and I hope so. But that is not today.
I will not close myself to the rest of Murakami's work but given his standing, it's difficult not to be a little confused.
There are moments of genuinely haunting imagery, as there are moments of gripping mystery, historical and otherwise. There's homage paid to The Great Gatsby, not unsuccessfully. The trademark surrealism is mostly controlled; held taut, and the plot is broadly cyclical which is satisfying in a vague way.
But for every time your spine tingles, every time a question arises and you grasp for the answer, there are pages and pages of thuddingly repetitive prose, seemingly needless detours and female characters painted with a troubling lack of empathy.
I've had it put to me the possibility that somewhere down the line I may pick this up again and love it. That's true, and I hope so. But that is not today.
I will not close myself to the rest of Murakami's work but given his standing, it's difficult not to be a little confused.