Book Review: What I Talk about When I Talk about Running by Haruki Murakami
A memoir
Haruki Murakami is one of my favourite writers. His novels are surreal, magical, where elements from a mystical world intermix with the real world, novels like Kafka on the Shore and Killing Commendatore. But this one is not a novel, but rather a memoir. It’s really a collection of diary-like essays written by the author about his passion for running. Somehow, he manages to link running to writing: running or training for a marathon is like a metaphor for writing a novel — both are grueling activities that require much patience and endurance, not fit for people who prefer instant gratification. Reading this, you get the strong impression that Murakami is a strong-willed, patient individual with tons of endurance. It’s impressive. And apparently the reason he started running was because he needed to keep himself active and healthy once he decided to become a full-time writer, a job that involved zero physical exertion and therefore potentially unhealthy — before that he ran a bar, a job that required him to be on his feet all through and therefore got him enough physical exertion to keep him relatively fit.
There are three types of people who will enjoy this book: runners, writers, and fans of Murakami. I am not saying other people cannot enjoy it, but these are the three people most likely to enjoy it. I am not a runner, but I am a writer and a fan of Murakami, so I enjoyed it. And it did make me envy the running lifestyle. It made me starkly aware of how much I am lacking in something interesting besides writing to give my life meaning and a different lens, preferably something physical with a whole lifestyle or culture around it — like Hemingway and his hunting and fishing, or Bukowski with his horse racing and drinking, or Gertrude Stein with her obsession with modern art. What are my extracurricular obsessions?
Murakami takes us through his training regimen and we follow him as he runs mile after mile after mile. While we are reading, we become aware what it means to run a marathon, what is involved, what is required, what passes through the mind of the runner, and so forth. We even learn what kind of person runs marathons. One thing I learnt from this book: long-distance runners have slow heartbeats!
Murakami has a simple, clear style that is at times lyrical but mainly ordinary in a beautiful way. His thoughts are lucid and clear, not muddled, not vague, not dense, not complex. He says things directly and clearly, and it sometimes feels like I am reading the English subtitles on a Japanese movie — that makes sense, considering Murakami writes in Japanese (this is a translation).
Of the three types of people who will love this job, those who will love it the most are runners because about 85% of it is concerned with running, running, running — towards the end, though, he writes about triathlons and adds biking and swimming to the subject. For me, a writer, who was hoping for information about writing, I was sad that there wasn’t much of it, but I was overjoyed that the little there is is incredibly insightful. Murakami’s view on the craft of writing and the writing life is unique and deeply illuminating.
That said, Murakami is in his element when writing a novel, not a memoir. But reading this gave me a hunger for a Murakami novel. I think it’s about time I go to Prestige Bookshop and buy IQ84, his gigantic novel which I have had my eye on for a while.
