Haruki Murakami has been a constant in my life for over two decades. I first encountered his unique world of storytelling back in 1998 with Norwegian Wood, a novel that left a lasting impression on me as a teenager. It was my gateway into Murakami’s surreal and deeply emotional universe. At the time, I was struck by how effortlessly he captured the complex emotions of youth, love, and loss. His words stayed with me, and I quickly became a devoted fan, exploring his other works like Kafka on the Shore, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, and 1Q84.
But as I’ve grown older, my relationship with Murakami’s writing has evolved. His dreamy, surreal narratives and recurring themes once felt revolutionary to me, but now, after years of reading his works, I’ve started to notice patterns. It’s made me question: has Murakami changed as a writer, or is it me as a reader? Perhaps it’s a bit of both.
The New Book: The City and Its Uncertain Walls
Murakami’s latest novel, The City and Its Uncertain Walls, was one I eagerly anticipated. It’s been years since his last major work, and I couldn’t wait to see what he would bring to the table this time. The book, it turns out, is an expansion of a short story he wrote many years ago. For those familiar with his earlier novels, especially Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, many elements will feel familiar.
The city, the towering walls, the shadows, and even the unicorns featured in the story all echo themes and imagery from Hard-Boiled Wonderland. At first, I couldn’t help but wonder: why is Murakami revisiting the same ideas and motifs? It felt almost as if he were retracing his steps rather than venturing into new creative territory.
But as I continued reading, I realized this wasn’t just a simple repetition. Instead, it felt like Murakami was trying to further develop and refine the imaginary world he has built over his career. It’s as if he’s been assembling a puzzle piece by piece, and this novel is his attempt to add one final layer to the picture.
What Stands Out in This Novel?
One of the most significant differences in The City and Its Uncertain Walls is the protagonist. For the first time in Murakami’s novels, the main character is over 40 years old. This is a noticeable departure from his previous works, where protagonists are often young men in their 20s or 30s, like in Kafka on the Shore or Norwegian Wood.
For me, this change was deeply personal. Having read Murakami’s novels since my teenage years, I feel like his characters and I have grown up together. Now that I’m in my 40s, seeing a protagonist with a similar life stage made the story resonate with me in a new way. It’s as if Murakami is now writing for readers like me—those who have been with him for decades and are navigating a different phase of life.
That being said, the story itself feels both familiar and different. It has the hallmarks of a classic Murakami novel: an introspective protagonist, an enigmatic love story, and a surreal, dream-like setting. But this time, the love story felt simpler—less layered and complex than in his earlier works.
A Familiar Yet Different Ending
Another characteristic of Murakami’s storytelling is his open-ended conclusions, and The City and Its Uncertain Walls is no exception. In many of his earlier works, these ambiguous endings felt like mysteries waiting to be solved, leaving readers with a sense of wonder. But in this novel, the open ending feels less satisfying—almost as if the story itself isn’t fully complete.
Murakami’s brighter, more hopeful tone in this novel also feels different. But at the same time, it lacks some of the emotional depth and complexity that made his earlier works so compelling. It feels like Murakami is writing more for himself, exploring his own ideas and emotions, rather than fully immersing the reader in a gripping narrative.
Criticism and Reflection
It’s not common for writers to revisit old themes or ideas, but it is rare to see a writer build an entire novel around a concept they’ve explored before. This has led to some criticism of The City and Its Uncertain Walls. Some readers might feel that Murakami is retreading old ground rather than creating something entirely new.
As a long-time fan, I see this differently. To me, this novel feels like Murakami’s attempt to complete the imaginary world he’s spent decades building. It’s as though he’s adding the final touches to a literary universe that’s been a defining feature of his career.
Do I think this is Murakami’s best work? No. It doesn’t have the same emotional weight as Norwegian Wood or the same boldness as 1Q84. But it does feel deeply personal—a reflection of where he is in his life and career.
Final Thoughts: Is It Worth Reading?
If you’re a fan of Haruki Murakami, The City and Its Uncertain Walls is worth reading. While it may not be his most groundbreaking work, it offers a fascinating glimpse into the mind of an author who has spent decades crafting a unique literary universe.
For those new to Murakami, I would recommend starting with Norwegian Wood or Kafka on the Shore to truly experience the magic of his storytelling. But for long-time fans like me, this new novel is another step in an ongoing journey—a chance to revisit the themes and worlds that first made us fall in love with his work.
Thank you for reading my reflections on Murakami’s new book. Have you read it yet? What do you think about his storytelling? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!
Closing Note
Haruki Murakami’s novels have always been more than just stories—they’re experiences. And while this new book may not be perfect, it’s another chapter in a body of work that has shaped my perspective on life, love, and the power of imagination. For that, I’m grateful.
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