Certain depth of glow outlining the body

Haruki Murakami,the award-winning, international best-selling author, needs no introduction. He is one of the modern world's most powerful and elegant novelists, and his stories are a colorful mesh of fiction, philosophical discussions, and sensual discourse on arts. His latest novel, the thirteenth,"Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage" sold more than a million copies the first week it went on sale in Japan on 12 April 2013. The English-language edition, translated by Philip Gabriel, was released on 12 August 2014. 

The title of the book refers to two aspects of the main protagonist of the story. The first element colorless Tsukuru Tazaki is a tongue-in-cheek reference to the practice in Japan where every individual has a unique color that they emit, or "a certain depth of glow outlining their bodies." According to his close friends, Tsukuru had no color, while the other four in his close group did.  The second element in the title is homage to "Years of Pilgrimage" a piano composition by Franz Lisztof Hungary which is interspersed throughout the narrative. Tsukuru himself, later in his life, undertook a journey to unravel certain mysteries in his life that he sought to resolve. 

The story starts in a very dramatic fashion. "From July of his sophomore year in college until the following January, all Tsukuru Tazaki could think about was dying." It happened when in 1995 four of his best friends decided to sever all connections with him and offered him no explanation for their abrupt decision.  Tsukuru was studying engineering in Tokyo and was specializing in building train stations.  He overcame the setback, finished college, and found a job with a railroad company building stations. In 2011, at the age of 36 he has a new girlfriend, Sara who encourages him"to come face-to-face with the past, not as some naive, easily wounded boy, but as a grown-up" and seek his former buddies to mend the relationships and find out why they rejected him back in 1995. The rest of the narrative is a travelogue as Tsukuru first goes back to his hometown in Nagoya, meets one of the members of their group, and then flies to Finland to find the only surviving female member, Kuro. Since I am reluctant to give away the ending, I will offer some clues in the next few paragraphs but leave enough unsaid for my readers to try out this magnificent volume.

During his first stop in Nagoya, he meets Aka, a member of the team who tells him that the reason for the drastic decision the four had taken to cut off all relations. It is revealed that a teenager named Shiro had told the other three that she was raped by Tsukuru. He, however, could not confront Shiro to seek any clarification on the lie, since she was found murdered a few years earlier. So, Tsukuru decides to speak to the only surviving female, who was very close to Shiro, As luck would have it, Kuro had gotten married and moved to Finland. The most interesting, and to me very appealing, phase of his life now takes place as he flies to Helsinki and attempts to reconnect with Kuro.The rest of the novel has a poetical resonance as Tsukuru and Kuro meet face to face and untangle the knot that their lives had become.

The narrative is replete with illustrations of Murakami's mastery of music, understanding of the human soul, and his ability to bring in references from the various disciplines. For example on jealousy,  he says, "Tsukuru had never understood the feeling of jealousy. He understood the concept, of course—the sensation you could have toward a person who possesses—or could easily acquire—the talents or gifts or position you covet. The feeling of being deeply in love with a woman only to find her in the arms of another man. Envy, resentment, regret, a frustration and anger for which there is no outlet." 

The novel is full of discussions of music and musical instruments. In a discussion of Lazar Berman who plays Liszt, he compares Berman to a painter, "like he's painting a delicately imagined landscape. Most people see Liszt's piano music as more superficial, and technical. Of course, he has some tricky pieces, but if you listen very carefully to his music you discover a depth to it that you don't notice at first. Most of the time it's hidden behind all the embellishments. This is particularly true of the Years of Pilgrimage suites. There aren't many living pianists who can play it accurately and with such beauty. "

Murakami's fifth chapter is a unit by itself and has some very deeply philosophical passages on life and one's place in the universe. The writer also shows his understanding of musical instruments. "The keyboard of the old upright piano in the music room was uneven, and the tuning was off, but overall it was tolerable. Midorikawa sat down on the creaky chair, stretched out his fingers, ran through all eighty-eight keys, then began trying out a few chords. Fifths, sevenths, ninths, elevenths. He didn't seem too pleased with the sound, but appeared to get a certain physical satisfaction from the mere act of pressing down on the keys. As Haida watched the nimble, resilient way his fingers moved over the keyboard, he decided that Midorikawa must be a pretty well-known pianist."

A conversation between Tsukuru and his friend Haida offers a peek into their views on religion and spirituality. Tsukuru reflects,

"In different religions prophets fall into a kind of ecstasy and receive a message from an absolute being."

"Correct."

"And this takes place somewhere that transcends free will, right? Always passively."

"That's correct."

"And that message surpasses the boundaries of the individual prophet and functions in a broader,universal way."

"Correct again."

"And in that message there is neither contradiction nor equivocation."

Haida nodded silently.

"I don't get it," Tsukuru said. "If that's true, then what's the value of human free will?"

"That's a great question," Haida said, and smiled quietly. The kind of smile a cat gives as it stretches out, napping in the sun. "I wish I had an answer for you, but I don't. Not yet."

Murakami had in his earlier fiction given his nod to "magical realism", and in "Colorless" he brings it on in its fullest flavor to give his narrative a fifth dimension. "Tsukuru must have fallen asleep again, but he woke up once more in a dream. Strictly speaking, it might not be a dream. It was reality, but a reality imbued with all the qualities of a dream. A different sphere of reality, where—at a special time and place—imagination had been set free."

At another narration, "Swimming eased Tsukuru's accumulated exhaustion, and relaxed his tense muscles. Being in the water calmed him more than any other place. Swimming a half hour twice a week allowed him to maintain a calm balance between mind and body. He also found the water a great place to think. A kind of Zen meditation, he discovered. Once he got into the rhythm of the swimming, thoughts came to him, unhampered, like a dog let loose in a field."

There is some beautiful imagery in the last sections of the novel. There is an encounter where he goes to meet one of the girls in his team, Kuro, who now goes by the name Eri, and the poetic description of that meeting in a little village in Finland is worth taking in slowly.  Murakami brings together an elegant juxtaposition of two different cultures, Finnish and Japanese, when Tsukuru and his childhood friend Eri meet where he discovers more than one secret.  Finally, knowing what happened to Shiro, and how one of the friends in the group Eri trusted him was very redemptive for him. Imagine you are accused of raping one of your best friends who has died, and there is no way for you to prove otherwise. His hunch paid off, since the other girl, Eri once they meet north of Helsinki tells him that she knew that he was not the rapist. But she also confides that she had gone along with the fiction to protect her friend who had an existential crisis. The old mystery that unfolds is really gripping and sad. Two mysteries still remain: who killed Shiro and whether Sara accepts him or the other older person.

That in a nutshell is the disappointment I ran into since Murakami leaves these critical questions in the mind of the reader unanswered. Did not have the typical ending where the hero finally gets the girl. There is a mystery which is not solved! You feel like writing to Murakami to ask, "What happens at the end?"

The reviewer lives and works in Boston and recently published a collection of short stories, entitled "A Chance Encounter".