The prison, was after all, his own heart. Of course if he wanted to escape he could do so. And not another soul in the world knew he was locked inside. Jealousy was not a place he was forced into by someone else, but a jail in which the inmate entered voluntarily, locked the door, and threw away the key. “Jealousy – at least as he understood it from his dream – was the most hopeless prison in the world. Understandably then, I was ridiculously excited at the release of the English translation of Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage. Pick up any of his many novels (except, perhaps, for The Strange Library that defied even my taste for the most obscure stories) and it will become immediately apparent why Murakami has achieved this status.
Defying popular favouritism of Western literature, Murakami has become one of the most popular and celebrated authors on the planet. Two years, and many books later, it has become clear that no novels fit this mould quite like those of sensational Japanese author, Haruki Murakami. While immersed in the world of PhD research, any attempt to read outside of this is usually characterised by choice of the weirdest and most eccentric books. That is what lies at the root of true harmony.” There is no silence without a cry of grief, no forgiveness without bloodshed, no acceptance without a passage through acute loss.
Pain linked to pain, fragility linked to fragility.
They are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds. “One heart is not connected to another through harmony alone.
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