'Men Without Women' is Murakami at his whimsical best
For Haruki Murakami aficionados, reading Men Without Women, Murakami's 20th book to be translated into English, is a whimsical delight. The seven stories in his fourth story collection present another captivating treasure hunt of familiar Murakami motifs 鈥� including cats, jazz, whiskey, certain cigarettes, the moon, baseball, never-named characters, and 鈥� of course 鈥� the many men without women.
脺ber-book designer/art director Chip Kidd again created the cover, as he has done for most of Murakami鈥檚 stateside titles. Two of Murakami鈥檚 regular translators (because he has them) smoothly render his prose: Philip Gabriel, who translated 鈥淜afka on the Shore鈥� and, most recently, 鈥淐olorless Tsukuru and His Years of Pilgrimage,鈥� and Ted Goossen, Murakami鈥檚 newest polyglot, who translated 鈥淭he Strange Library鈥� and re-translated 鈥淗ear the Wind Sing鈥� and 鈥淧inball, 1973,鈥� the lesser-known prequels to Murakami鈥檚 signature 鈥淎 Wild Sheep Chase.鈥� Their seamless partnership is unmistakable. Who translates which story remains unknown until story鈥檚 end when a name is revealed.
Despite so much seeming to be the same, rather than familiarity breeding contempt, Murakami always manages to entertain, surprise, and satisfy. The first story, 鈥淒rive My Car,鈥� already has controversy attached. A single line about a cigarette discarded from a car window 鈥� 鈥淗e guessed that was what people did in Nakatonbetsu鈥� 鈥� inspired international coverage, including in and . In early 2014, the town鈥檚 assembly leaders demanded an apology from Murakami for insulting their home. Murakami gamely complied, and even contemplated changing the location in his story. Three years later, however, with the story鈥檚 English debut, Nakatonbetsu town leaders just might be protesting once more.
鈥淒rive My Car,鈥� and the following story, 鈥淵esterday,鈥� both begin 鈥� at least by title 鈥� with another of Murakami鈥檚 well known obsessions, the Beatles. In the (controversial) former, a middle-aged actor hires a young woman as his driver 鈥� the littering smoker now infamous in Nakatonbetsu 鈥� to whom he reveals how he befriended one of his wife鈥檚 lovers after her sudden death. In the latter, a man recalls an odd friendship he had 16 years previously with a coffee-shop co-worker who used to sing his own nonsense version of 鈥淵esterday鈥� in the unique Kansai dialect of Japanese which the Tokyoite had taught himself.
The next two stories also seem paired (duality being another Murakami trait), highlighting the inability of men to ever truly possess the women in their lives. In 鈥淎n Independent Organ,鈥� a prominent plastic surgeon, falls blindingly in love after decades of carefree bachelorhood with a married woman who fatally proves his theory that 鈥淸w]omen are all born with a special, independent organ that allows them to lie.鈥� In 鈥淪heherazade,鈥� a man trapped indoors for reasons never revealed, relies on a middle-aged housewife who twice a week delivers groceries, sex, and stories, whose unpredictable loss he realizes would make him 鈥渟addest of all.鈥�
Murakami turns to the surreal, with the next pair of stories which follow two men (without women) in limbo. Discovering his wife鈥檚 infidelity with his best friend, the titular 鈥淜ino鈥� quits his job, moves, and opens a bar in what had been his retired aunt鈥檚 caf茅. A returning customer, who repeatedly explains that his name includes the characters for "god" and "field," warns Kino to close the bar and travel far 鈥� and often. In 鈥淪amsa in Love,鈥� Kafka鈥檚 metamorphosing Gregor Samsa wakes one morning as 鈥� a human, wracked with pain and vulnerability caused by all the impracticalities of suddenly being naked, hungry, all alone, until a hunchback locksmith arrives intent on fixing a broken lock.
The final single story bears the eponymous title, closing the collection with an ending, as in death. A man answers a 1 a.m. call made by the husband of an old girlfriend who鈥檚 committed suicide 鈥� the third of the man鈥檚 ex-girlfriends to do so: 鈥渋t鈥檚 obvious 鈥� this is an extremely high fatality rate,鈥� he notes without irony. He re-imagines a past he 鈥�should" have shared with the dead woman, meeting as innocent 14-year-olds over an eraser broken in half and proffered with a bursting smile in a biology class studying 鈥渁mmonites and coelacanths.鈥� Losing her, losing others like her, and 鈥淸s]uddenly one day you become Men Without Women 鈥� [and o]nly Men Without Women can comprehend how painful, how heartbreaking, it is to become one.鈥�
If Murakami is in the (repeating) details, then such details are what make his writing so identifiably unique. 鈥淢aybe working on the little things as dutifully and honestly as we can,鈥� a character muses, 鈥渋s how we stay sane when the world is falling apart.鈥� Sanity might be overrated, but Murakami is surely not.
Terry Hong writes , a book blog for the
