By Haruki Murakami, Vintage, October 9, 2018, 978-0525435761
Killing Commendatore is one of my favorite Haruki Murakami stories. I’m a Murakami fan, and I guess I like all his stories. I end up identifying with his narrators. With this book, I listened to some of the same music that the narrator was listening to while reading the book. That was fun.
Murakami describes the world so well. Even the technical parts didn’t bother me, because he didn’t go into too much detail yet enough to make it interesting.
[k1313] For a few weeks I just silently stared at that painting.
[k4752] Menshiki smiled. “You’re still young, so that’s why you say that. When you get to be my age, you’ll understand how I feel. How much loneliness the truth can cause sometimes.”
[k4755] Menshiki nodded. “It is. Instead of a stable truth, I choose unstable possibilities. I choose to surrender myself to that instability. Do you think that’s unnatural?”
[k5028] They were limited to fifteen minutes per drawing (I used a kitchen timer to accurately time them).
[k6048] Menshiki closed the door after Mariye. I was struck by the different thunk it made as it closed, nothing like the Jaguar. In this world, what we think of as a single sound can have so many permutations. Just as we know, from one note struck on the open string of a double bass, whether it’s Charlie Mingus or Ray Brown.