SansPoint

Haruki Murakami has been hesitant to have his first two novels, Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973 released in America. This is an understatement. They have been translated, though, by Alfred Birnbaum, one of his regular translators, exclusively for use by Japanese students of English. These translated copies routinely fetch stupid amounts on used book sites and eBay.^[1] I was able to pick up a copy Hear the Wind Sing on eBay for the surprisingly reasonable price of $13, including shipping. It was a revelation.

It’s a brief little book, pages about the size of a 3×5 card. I managed to finish it in one night, pausing every few chapterettes for a breather. For such a short novel it’s amazingly captivating, and even this early, the key elements of Murakami’s fiction are in place. You could almost use a checklist. Disaffected, first-person narrator? Check. Flashbacks to important events in narrator’s life? Check. The one main thing missing is the Murakami surrealism, which must have developed a bit later, probably in A Wild Sheep Chase. In some ways, I can understand why Murakami has disowned the work. It’s not a masterpiece like The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, but whose first novel ever is? I suppose some of the atypical elements and lack of a real plot are shortcomings, but the darn thing is really quite good.^[2]

Compraing Hear the Wind Sing to After Dark, it’s easy to see how far Murakami has come as a writer. After Dark, and the previous novel, Kafka on the Shore^[3] feature Murakami taking more risks in his fiction and style. After Dark is completely unlike any other novel Murakami has written. Ditching his familiar style is a serious risk, and the reviews I’ve read are mixed on the new direction—if it is even a direction and not a momentary diversion. I like it, and have said so, quite vocally. Considering these stylistic deviations, it only makes sense that after a twenty-some odd year literary career, perhaps Murakami is trying to experiment more, and I can’t blame him.

Even as a young writer, I feel the need to push the limits of what I do with fiction. Certainly, there is nothing in Murakami’s work that could be considered “standard,” at least to the eyes of this American reader, but his stylistic development is something that is worth noting. It is also incredibly inspiring and reassuring to read his earliest works, realizing that Murakami, too, had his missteps and mistakes, and had to find his voice and style. I just need to save up for that copy of Pinball, 1973.

1. At the time of this writing, prices for Pinball, 1973 on AbeBooks run from a quasi-reasonable $45 to the absurd and insulting price of $2000. ↩
2. Of course, if it were to suddenly find itself translated and released in America, the audience may not realize it’s a first novel, and Murakami’s reputation would take a hit. ↩
3. Which is sitting on my shelf, waiting for me to get to it. Soon. ↩