This past weekend reading What I Talk About When I Talk About Running solidified Haruki Murakami as the author from whom I have read the most novels, clocking in at 10 with this new addition. I find him to be one of the most interesting writers in the modern contemporary fiction genre, and I have seen such diversity in an anthology few times prior. From short stories about lederhosen (The Elephant Vanishes) to a 900+ page science fiction-esque monstrous work of a novel (IQ84), Murakami’s work covers all the bases in literary fiction and invents many ones that didn’t previously exist. He finds captivating ways to expand upon the mundane trivialities of the common man, while simultaneously embedding elements of surrealism that boggle the mind and keep the reader engaged. 

He has a very specific way in which he explores the idiosyncratic and detached characters whose creation he claims stems from his experience owning and operating a bar on the outskirts of Tokyo, but I would argue is influenced by his own personality more than he may admit. There is certainly a diversity amongst his works in content and structure, but the common thread lies in the characters he writes. We follow men and women alike through their lives as they struggle with trauma or minor inconveniences, and all have personalities that mirror both Murakami’s writing style and personal habits in their methodical approach to the outlandish situations that they often find themselves in. 

In What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, Murakami reveals the strict running regiment he holds himself to daily, monthly, and yearly. Running six miles per day six times per week, the author boasts an average of 36 miles per week run in preparation for his annual tradition of running a marathon. This calculated approach to running in order to fulfill a personal goal is reflected throughout his novels in his formal and algorithmic tone, which speaks as one who is not particularly attached to the events going on but is utterly gripping in its lack of involvement.

When I think about Murakami, I think about the fascination that the natural world can be viewed with, and the strange things humans are capable of and what they say about one another. I think about the ambiguity of interaction, and the inability we each have to ever truly understand what is going on in someone else’s consciousness. He is an author who will force you to read between the lines, even when it feels like what is  between the lines is written in Russian and backwards. But I find nothing more riveting than that.