I recently read an intriguing book "Kafka on the shore" by a Japanese author Haruki Murakami. The back cover was full of praises: Spellbinding! Magical! I wanted to add my own view: I didn't get it!
It was an amazing book, a proper page-turner. But there were a few things that didn't make sense to me or that I couldn't connect with the rest of the plot. I did get it in major parts. It was confusing in a differend way than the movie about Facebook... The whole book was a symbol, a riddle, and as the author himself says, you ought to read it several times in order to fully understand it.
Most impressed I was by the usage of tiny details in the narrative and how the author could create such believable characters of diffrend ages and natures. The funniest thing was a young truck truck driver hooking up with the other "main character", a retarded old man... And it was completely natural. I do recommend reading it also culturewise. The Japanese seem to like eating eel and jam sandwiches. And everyone wears nice brand clothes.
I'm sticking with Asia now and starting to read Memoirs of a Geisha.
And talking of Asia, we had lunch in a Chinese restaurant yesterday. Cheap buffet always appeals to me and a cute logo with a panda doesn't hurt either. The place was nearly empty which is usually a bad sign. And the buffet was far from being really Chinese. They had their usual Szechuan chicken and the likes alongside with CHIPS and SUSHI and some gross fritters. Onion rigns barely had onion inside. There even was ketchup and mayo to satisfy English barbars. (Not offense to the English. You know what I meant.)
I thought it's sad that Chinese restaurants are rarely authentic. But the place was truly rubbish aswell. Also, Chinese waiters (in other countires than China I imagine) make me feel akward because they're so artificially welcoming and friendly all the time.
There's something mysterious about the East indeed...
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