Haruki Murakami - What I Talk About When I Talk About Running - Review.
Synopsis:
In 1982, having sold his jazz bar to devote himself to writing, Murakami began running to keep fit. A year later, he'd completed a solo course from Athens to Marathon, and now, after dozens of such races, not to mention triathlons and a slew of critically acclaimed books, he reflects upon the influence the sport has had on his life and - even more important - on his writing. Equal parts training log, travelogue, and reminiscence, this revealing memoir covers his four-month preparation for the 2005 New York City Marathon and settings ranging from Tokyo's Jingu Gaien gardens, where he once shared the course with an Olympian, to the Charles River in Boston among young women who outpace him.
A friend gave me a copy of Murakami's “What I talk about when I talk about running.”
Like the critically acclaimed Murakami I like music, drinking, running and racing and so thinking I'd be reading a book by someone with similar values, and really liking the cover graphics, I expected to enjoy it. However you should never judge a book by its cover and very quickly I realised this was going to be a disappointment.
When Phil mentioned he enjoyed the book I thought it would be an ideal opportunity to present two different perspectives on the same page.
Phil's review...
Haruki Murakami is a well-renowned fiction writer, having written such celebrated novels as ‘Norwegian Wood’ and ‘Hard Boiled Wonderland..’, and won literary honours such as the Franz Kafka Prize.
With this book Murakami has indulged himself and written an account part-autobiographical, part-running and part-philosophy. It is an easy and swift read and doesn’t delve too deeply in the machinations of the global running community.
Despite perhaps lacking depth, I personally was quite excited just to get my hands on running prose. Proportionately any ‘Sports’ section in a book shop reveals that the amount of people out pounding the pavements isn’t fairly represented by a wide range of reading material.
I saw this book as a possible attempt to address the balance, but in reality the book is a fierce introspective of the author’s training regimes and performances.
I have to admit to a kind of voyeuristic thrill with this type of book – being allowed an insight into another runner’s routines, mileage, goals and philosophies. ‘What I Talk About’…doesn’t just focus on running though, and it is here that I found both the strength and weakness of the book.
Running, and its principles, are woven with tales of how Murakami developed into a best-selling author. He allows us to interpret that the principles he uses for running (focus, endurance) are also the principles he applies to sitting down and writing each day.
As well as the spotlight on these two important aspects of his daily routine, Murakami takes time to philosophise on the appeal of running in general – a timely topic. Are we in Edinburgh/Scotland/UK in the midst right now of another running boom? Another topic for another day perhaps.
Murakami’s writing is at its most vivid when he describes such experiences as his first marathon (coincidentally – the original Marathon course!) or a 62-mile epic introduction to the trials of Ultra-racing. These experiences are littered with the kind of emotions we have all gone through when competing – which in turn is the main attraction of the book. Murakami may be an international, best-selling author, but when out in his shorts, vest and Mizunos, he’s just the same as everyone else.
Perversely, I also thought this was the main negative of the book. His training and competing are ‘every-man’ enough for anyone to engage with – but these activities swing between Hawaii, Boston, New York and Japan! These living arrangements serve as a barrier to his readers, as they are a reminder of his wealthy rewards from his job, and a luxury life-style many of us can never hope to achieve. At times it felt like he was name-dropping glamorous locations.Perhaps just jealousy on my part - it’s a small gripe, and a small price to pay, for an entertaining and novel piece of work. I felt the book worked best as an accompaniment to a post-run cup of coffee, or something light to read before bed. There is no mystery here to reveal – just an easy-to-read, engaging account of how one man feels the necessity to run every day.
Phil Owens
Peter's review...
This is a slim volume by a modest man who readily admits he is more a work horse than a race horse. As Churchill said of Attlee “indeed he has a lot to be modest about.” I found Murakami's running tales underwhelming. Although he doesn't shy away from the mileage he seems to lack any proper training schedule, in itself not a crime, but irritating when he then gives himself a hard time about his failing performances and deterioration.
example of waffle?Approaching his 60th year he reflects on the way things have been going through his running career and its not good. He tries to put across the notion he is not a competitive person. I think he would like to believe this, to be less fixated upon his poorer performances and where he comes in a race. He even suggests that marathon runners (other than elites) don't compete with other runners but I suspect it is all just wishful thinking. Reading between the lines I see him as a very focussed person who doesn't like to see others run past. He just doesn't have much running ability. Or he may have, but fails to realise it due to a lack of proper application.
Murakami puts great emphasis and effort into aspects of training that I think are misguided. A determination not to walk during a 62 mile ultra. Well hats off to him that he ran (slowly) all the way but any experienced ultra runner would tell you it can be very useful to take a walking break to ease up stiff muscles. But our boneheaded narrator stretched for long periods at the side of the road then continued his jog. The Ultra is one of the best chapters in the book. Perhaps because it has some real emotions and feelings in there. At least pain. He wants his epitaph to be “At least he never walked.” Not "he enjoyed running." Not "he ran with the heart of a lion." Not anything positive but something of a damp squib. You feel the next line of the epitaph should be “...but sadly he never ran much faster.”
Actually the ones panting are running faster than you.The book uses his training for the New York marathon as its central theme and Murakami ups his mileage from 36 a week to 50 miles. But I get the feeling they're all plodding jogged miles. A bit of speed training along with rest days would make way more sense but our stubborn author is too busy trying to make a religion out of running on a daily basis to look into what would actually work for him. He admits the point of the book when he started out, was to try and pull off a return to form and end on an upbeat note. He certainly doesn't run just for the joy of it. His form used to be 3.30 marathons but as he aged that figure turns into 4 hr marathons. So Olympic hopeful he is not. Also he doesn't bother with shorter events, despite the admission he runs okay to 19 miles then dies from 22. I think he is too caught up with the supposed glory of being a certain thing: a Marathoner, a Writer, to actually have an objective perspective that would improve his outlook.
Normally I wouldn't condemn someone for running at that mid-packers pace but I think I just got tired of his rather unreflective training and strange values. As I said I thought he would have a similar outlook to myself. Then he tells us what his taste in music is like. (Clapton, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Stones, some other guff, etc.) Whenever he went into detail about himself, which was rare, I found the distance between us grew. And although he is married if you blink you would miss the only references to his wife. Strangely, for a book that is autobiographical, I felt at the end I really knew very little about the man, save he really wanted to run better but couldn't.
He goes on a fair deal about writing and how he became a novelist. Again he admits he is not overly burdened with talent. It is impossible to tell whether the slack and anodyne writing style is his own or the translators – but given the man himself has translated Fitzgerald and Carver to Japanese he can't be blameless here. I think the clue is Raymond Carver – from whom he borrows (with permission) the title of the book (from Raymond Carver's, What We Talk About, When We Talk About Love.) Carver writes with a lean, spare style, short choppy sentences that punch above their weight. Murakami mostly writes like a child trying to imitate this. Its pretty bland but easy reading and when I re-read this book (in order to write this review) I didn't find it as disappointing as the first time. So expectation plays a large part.
There are a couple of interesting chapters: the Ultra he runs and a solo marathon from Athens to Marathon accidentally run at the wrong time of the year (in searing heat) which is nicely handled. That apart, I can't really recommend a book on running by an author who admits having a limited ability in both running and writing. I tend to agree with his evaluation and would instead recommend Raymond Carver.
In summary, could try harder (and more intelligently.)
Peter Buchanan
After reading the above Iain Duckworth emailed...
...he does give a bit of insight into running and his comments on the triathalon - overcoming his fear of swimming in a competitive race were Motivational. Also the ability to give up his successful jazz club and concentrate on writing shows a level of single mindedness that few possess and to turn that into a successful career was remarkable.
He also won a short story competition while still running his jazz club.
He is not a runner - but an author seeking to keep his weight under control. On balance I enjoyed the book while agreeing with some of the points you raise but don't feel quite as strongly as you!In reply Peter says...
I'm not saying Murakami is a bad person or trying to belittle the achievements in his impressive life: sure he has done some bold and interesting things. This book however isn't one of them. And if you write a book with THAT title and it doesn't do justice to running then you are stepping in front of the (lycra) firing squad. I feel he has made the act of running a bit duller for the non-running reader. However its mostly style not content that has the majority of critics panning this book. If you look on what tends to be a pro-Murakami website here, on the right hand side are links to a large number of articles and crits on this book. As you descend the list (after the first couple) they are increasingly hostile and disparaging.
It was only when I heard that Phil enjoyed this work that I felt comfortable reviewing it here as I wanted to show some balance. I do feel the least worthy thing about this book is its author's blinkered attitude to running: what he needs is to run with other folk and exchange training ideas - to join a club. A few weeks of intervals with Bert, round the golf course with Gordon or hill work with Lynn and he would almost certainly find the improvements he fails to get from following his own agenda.
If you want to read something inspirational about running I would suggest Ultra Marathon Man by Dean Karnazes. Lantern jawed Karno is an AmeriCAN who doesn't let his limited literary abilities get in the way of writing a damn fine book about running hard till your toenails drop off then keeping going. A victory of brawn (and endurance) over brain but it'll get you out there in the rain while Murakami is still whinging about running 4hr marathons. Karno runs 20 miles to the marathon start line before knocking out a respectable time then running home. Him strong like bull. Respect!
