HG was browsing the excellent anthology of sports writing from The New Yorker when HG came upon a biographical piece by the Japanese novelist (and short story writer) Haruki Murakami. It was entitled “The Running Novelist.” The tone of the prose was unusual. Low key and matter of fact even though it spoke of unusual accomplishments. Murakami began running when he was in his thirties and has completed 28 marathons and is qualified as a triathlete. Became curious about the writer and did some research. Murakami is acknowledged as a one of the world’s greatest writers. He has been translated into many languages and has millions of readers. He is a possible Nobel candidate. And, while rummaging in HG/BSK’s bookshelves, HG found a book of short stories by Murakami: “The Elephant Vanishes” (plus two novels). Obviously, they were added to the shelves by SJ, HG/BSK’s beloved and gifted son (lives in Tokyo with his family and he and wife, Maiko, own and run Freeman Shokudo, a busy barbecue and beer izakaya.) Well, “The Elephant Vanishes” is astounding. Some of the stories, with their blend of naturalism and fantasy, are reminiscent of Bernard Malamud. Some others are so frightening they make Stephen King seem like Mother Goose. HG is a Murakami addict. Now, on to the novels. Thanks, SJ.
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