The title tells it all. The story really is one of a kind and unlike any book I have previously read. While depicted as a fast read, the book is not meant to only be read once. It does take multiple readings to grasp the outermost shell of Haruki Murakami's unique philosophy.
Lots of people agree that the book is confusing. I believe this too. I don't believe that the confusion was without purpose, nor was it without a point. Modern writing calls for the unconventional and the abstract. No longer can a book captivate its audience with predictable elements and straightforward themes. A reader must hunt for them. Kafka does exactly that. Each dialogue and stream of consciousness from the characters birthed a concept unlike those I witness and am a part of in reality. The book's magical realism is what makes it an excellent read.
What grips my attention the most is how devoted my attention must be onto the plot and events. The thick curtain between reality and the abstract in life are open and flood into each others dimension. In this book, an event does not happen with an explanation- it happens with three. Like a book where you pick an ending to your liking, Kafka on the Shore allows the reader to explore the plot and develop their own understanding of the characters and their relationships to one another.
This book is an excellent example of a philosophical work, but only for the type of reader that wishes to be left pleasantly confused. The ideas will linger in the readers mind and truly make them a better philosopher. With this book, each question y possesses an answer within itself.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Losing Myself
There have been many times where I found myself to be physically lost, but never had those moment compared to the times where my mental compass had escaped me and left me alone with my thoughts. Never had they come close to the panic and fear felt with losing yourself in a familiar place.
On warm summer nights, I stargaze. I love to find the constellations and track the planetary movements across the sky. Each burning dot of energy glowing millions of miles away challenges my sense of identity. What am I in this world? What purpose do I have? Why do I exist now?
I can't help but to bring those questions to mind They linger willingly and patiently.They gently remind themselves to me with arguments of fate and destiny.My choice and no choice. Whispered secrets of life pull at my capacity to comprehend the meaning behind my existence.
It's hard for me to believe that I can control every detail of my life. There's a nonrefundable commitment to saying that I can't. I feel lost when I think that something greater than my being drums the tempo I follow day in and day out. But I also feel lost when it is me playing the drummer to my life.
It's not the stars pressuring feelings of inferiority or helplessness onto me that make me feel lost. It's not how everyone around me seems so well put together. It's the idea that a third realm of being exits somewhere between my mind and the universe. An invisible thread rallies messages between the two worlds and coincidentally catch on fire to my thoughts, spreading doubt like wildfire.
I can't choose to side with fate, nor can I choose to side with creating my own path. But I can choose to get up and walk back inside of my house and have these existential thoughts wait outside my door. They can patiently wait to accompany me on yet another night, on another day.
Advice for the "Rents"
Dearest Moms and Dads,
I cannot express in words my gratitude for all that you have done for your children. Raising a tiny human and molding them into an adult is the toughest job the earth has ever seen. It is a job as old as procreation and as confusing as the task of defining our existence. There are no definite rules engraved in stone that tell you how to bend and shape your creation. There are guidelines, but never has a person created a manual to raising your tiny bundle of joy.
You come home from the hospital carrying a complete stranger and smiling like an idiot. Years pass by. You and your child become acquaintances. More years pass by, and you reach a point where you can even call each other friends. Then a short year or two later, and you're back to living with a total stranger that you "just don't understand, God." Where did you go wrong? What sort of twisted plot is this? Why were you not given any warning?
There really is no way to explain this. It's not your fault. These kids are changing and learning their identity. They're experimenting and testing their self control. There is no such thing as making mistakes- everything happens for a reason. Your are not to blame for your child. Do not feel ashamed of how you raised them. Do not feel ashamed for who they are or how they make you look, because their satisfaction with themselves is much more important to your relationship than what other parents think.
While you do this, don't become their best friends- that will happen once they move away from you for the first time. You are responsible for them, so set boundaries and enforce them without exceptions. Children need a strong provider, so that when tough times come along, they can look to you and see a force that the mishaps of life will not break down.
Each child is special and different from the next, so learn their strengths and weaknesses and work with them. Each child also deserves alone time with their parents away from their siblings.Never pick favorites, it only causes problems within the family.
Do not amend the mistakes of your childhood by living them out through your kids. Your almost professional golf career should not be thrust upon your clueless toddler.But do appreciate your children's talents and unique qualities. Honesty is just as much of a talent as wiggling your ears.
Never. Count. Down. From. Three. To. A. Teenager. This method will only get you a nasty remark and a slammed door in your face. The only exception to this rule is if you're counting down the seconds to the New Year or if the three of you are about to skydive out of an airplane.
It's alright o be afraid of letting your child grow up. It's okay for you dads to want to lock up your daughters in their rooms until they turn 45, because that way, those bad boys on the street won't be able to influence her sweetness. It's okay to want this, but don't do this.
Courtesy. Manners. Respect. Those are words in the dictionary, you know? They've become less and less visible in public places with the passing years, but that doesn't mean proper etiquette should go extinct altogether. You never know how far these skills will take them in life.
Find a medium ground between raising a brat and raising a robot. Over gratification and under gratification are both unpleasant traits to have and hard to get rid of later in life. How to find that medium balance-I don't know. But when you work it out, the reward will be sweet.
The '50s had it all wrong with parenting methods. Your standard mom n' pop n' two kids suburban family should not define what you consider family. The bonds you create with your children and the relationship you end up having with them cannot be laid out by a thirty second ad. You create the meaning and definition of family.
Whatever they wish to do, always support them. After all, you are the guiding forces in your children's search for meaning. Men and women can be mothers and fathers, but only truly special parents can be called Mommy and Daddy.
Truth is, all we really want from you is unwavering love, approval, and acceptance. All that we do, we do it for you, so throw us a bone.
I cannot express in words my gratitude for all that you have done for your children. Raising a tiny human and molding them into an adult is the toughest job the earth has ever seen. It is a job as old as procreation and as confusing as the task of defining our existence. There are no definite rules engraved in stone that tell you how to bend and shape your creation. There are guidelines, but never has a person created a manual to raising your tiny bundle of joy.
You come home from the hospital carrying a complete stranger and smiling like an idiot. Years pass by. You and your child become acquaintances. More years pass by, and you reach a point where you can even call each other friends. Then a short year or two later, and you're back to living with a total stranger that you "just don't understand, God." Where did you go wrong? What sort of twisted plot is this? Why were you not given any warning?
There really is no way to explain this. It's not your fault. These kids are changing and learning their identity. They're experimenting and testing their self control. There is no such thing as making mistakes- everything happens for a reason. Your are not to blame for your child. Do not feel ashamed of how you raised them. Do not feel ashamed for who they are or how they make you look, because their satisfaction with themselves is much more important to your relationship than what other parents think.
While you do this, don't become their best friends- that will happen once they move away from you for the first time. You are responsible for them, so set boundaries and enforce them without exceptions. Children need a strong provider, so that when tough times come along, they can look to you and see a force that the mishaps of life will not break down.
Each child is special and different from the next, so learn their strengths and weaknesses and work with them. Each child also deserves alone time with their parents away from their siblings.Never pick favorites, it only causes problems within the family.
Do not amend the mistakes of your childhood by living them out through your kids. Your almost professional golf career should not be thrust upon your clueless toddler.But do appreciate your children's talents and unique qualities. Honesty is just as much of a talent as wiggling your ears.
Never. Count. Down. From. Three. To. A. Teenager. This method will only get you a nasty remark and a slammed door in your face. The only exception to this rule is if you're counting down the seconds to the New Year or if the three of you are about to skydive out of an airplane.
It's alright o be afraid of letting your child grow up. It's okay for you dads to want to lock up your daughters in their rooms until they turn 45, because that way, those bad boys on the street won't be able to influence her sweetness. It's okay to want this, but don't do this.
Courtesy. Manners. Respect. Those are words in the dictionary, you know? They've become less and less visible in public places with the passing years, but that doesn't mean proper etiquette should go extinct altogether. You never know how far these skills will take them in life.
Find a medium ground between raising a brat and raising a robot. Over gratification and under gratification are both unpleasant traits to have and hard to get rid of later in life. How to find that medium balance-I don't know. But when you work it out, the reward will be sweet.
The '50s had it all wrong with parenting methods. Your standard mom n' pop n' two kids suburban family should not define what you consider family. The bonds you create with your children and the relationship you end up having with them cannot be laid out by a thirty second ad. You create the meaning and definition of family.
Whatever they wish to do, always support them. After all, you are the guiding forces in your children's search for meaning. Men and women can be mothers and fathers, but only truly special parents can be called Mommy and Daddy.
Truth is, all we really want from you is unwavering love, approval, and acceptance. All that we do, we do it for you, so throw us a bone.
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