I could write a one-sentence review of this book, saying that it features Beethoven, talking cats and obsessive love and that therefore I couldn't but love it. Or I could write another one-sentence review, stating that it's Murakami and that therefore it's inherently good and interesting. Both of these statements would be true and more or less complete, but all the same I think I'll go into slightly more detail.

Kafka on the Shore is a story about a fifteen-year-old bookworm who calls himself Kafka (as you do) and runs away from home, partly to look for his lost mother and sister, but mostly to get away from his horrible father, whose crimes against him are never fully explained. Fate draws him to a town where, among other things, he meets two women who may well be his mother and sister, which doesn't prevent him from having sex with them. His story, which is as Oedipal as they come, is intersected with that of Nakata, a sixty-year-old simpleton who, among many other unique gifts, can talk to cats. It quickly transpires that Kafka's and Nakata's lives are interconnected, but exactly how this is doesn't become clear until the end, if indeed it does then.

There is much to enjoy here. As always, Murakami's prose is supremely efficient; every sentence matters and takes you closer to the inevitable denouement. As always, the characters are tremendously likeable and off-beat. One could argue that they're not entirely three-dimensional, but who cares when they have such a story to tell? For theirs is quite a story. Like all of Murakami's 'weird' books, Kafka on the Shore is light on facts and heavy on metaphysical stuff. It's not a book for those who like straightforward stories; many of the questions raised are left unanswered, which I love but which will leave those who are of a slightly more literal bent unsatisfied. Nor is it a book for people who care about realism. What with its curses, entrances to other worlds, mackerel rainstorms, ghosts, concepts assuming human form and heavy emphasis on fate, destiny and reincarnation, Kafka on the Shore has a distinctly fairy-tale-like atmosphere, which is probably why I liked it so much (apart from it featuring Beethoven, talking cats and obsessive love, I mean). Parts of the story were clearly inspired by Japanese mythology. In its own turn, I can see this book being the inspiration for a very good Japanese movie. Maybe it has a little too much violence and incest in it to be turned into an anime film, but I can think of quite a few 'regular' Japanese directors who could do great things with this particular brand of mysterious magic realism. Which begs the question: how come the book hasn't been adapted to the screen yet?

Anyhow, to cut a long story short (and to prevent this turning into a panegyric on Japanese cinema), I loved this book. If I'm not giving it five stars, that's because it lacks the emotional resonance of Norwegian Wood (my favourite Murakami book so far) and because Philip Gabriel's translation is a little too American for my taste. If I could give it four and a half stars, though, I would -- for the skilful way in which Murakami weaves together his two storylines, for his haunting descriptions of the power of memories and longing, for the many matter-of-fact weird touches he adds (Johnnie Walker and Colonel Sanders, anyone?), and, naturally, for his throwing in Beethoven, talking cats and obsessive love. It doesn't get any better than that, does it?