Pinball, 1973 by Maki Sasaki
Haruki Murakami - Norwegian Wood
Where the road sloped upwards beyond the trees, I sat and looked towards the building where Naoko lived. It was easy to tell her room.
All I had to do was find the one window towards the back where a faint light trembled. I focused on that point of light for a long, long time. It made me think of something like the final pulse of a soul’s dying embers. I wanted to cup my hands over what was left and keep it alive. I went on watching it the way Jay Gatsby watched that tiny light on the opposite shore night after night.
He’s always got a book with him, and if there’s a lull in the conversation he may pull a book out and start reading it. He just knows an amazing amount of things but he complains about his bad memory. On a daily basis he probably does have a bad memory, and I think that has something to do with his interest in questions of memory and bringing back the past and things of that sort in his books. But he does remember an amazing amount of what he’s read and what he’s heard.Jay Rubin on Haruki Murakami
New Italian Prime Minister Matteo Renzi has been seen with a copy of Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running a few days ago.
(thanks to Stefano Jugo at Italian publisher Einaudi editore)
He’s a human being. He’s a very nice guy, and he’s kind of low key in person. He’ll talk most if you talk about music with him because he loves music so much. It’s in his head all the time.Jay Rubin on Haruki Murakami
Haruki Murakami - Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage.
wailmer94 asked: “I'm the lonely voyager standing on deck, and she's the sea.” Do you know what this quote is like in japanese?
- Kafka on the Shore
It was a soft and gentle kiss, one not meant to lead beyond itself. I would probably not have kissed Midori that day if we hadn’t spent the afternoon on the laundry deck in the sun, drinking beer and watching a fire, and she probably felt the same. After a long time of watching the glittering rooftops and the smoke and the red dragonflies and other things, we had felt something warm and close, and we both probably wanted, half-consciously, to preserve that mood in some form. It was that kind of kiss. But as with all kisses, it was not without a certain element of danger.Haruki Murakami - Norwegian Wood
“The Second Bakery Attack" Revised Edition (Japanese). Illustrations by Kat Menschik
The Wind Up Bird Chronicle matches