In Haruki Murakami’s novel “Dance Dance Dance,” there is no actual dancing. I see what you did there, sir!
This is my second Murakami novel and it did not disappoint. After reading “Kafka On The Shore,” I wasn’t sure that this one would live up to my first experience. Now, although I did ultimately prefer “Kafka,” reading “Dance Dance Dance” was a true pleasure. All of the characters are deeply detailed and honestly realistic in a world of magical realism. Murakami flawlessly molds these characters in a realistic world that just happens to have magical secrets, including a Goat Man, a high tech hotel with a between-worlds floor 16, and a prostitute that may or may not be dead/murdered popping up in Japan and Hawaii. Get it?
This may sound convoluted and confusing, and it is, but in a good way. Murakami exhibits his characteristic humor and surrealism in everything from his descriptions of capitalism to his characters’ individual quirks. However, underneath this lighthearted side lies a darker undertone that criticizes both urbanization and capitalism. Throughout the novel, the unnamed protagonist laments capitalism’s influence on everything from business to personal relationships. He is constantly commenting on this theme, both internally to himself/the reader and conversationally with other characters. He prefers his used Subaru to his celebrity friend’s Maserati. He prefers his small apartment to his ward’s father’s opulent home. And he prefers the rundown, small, dirty Dolphin Hotel to the fancy, huge, streamlined l’Hôtel Dauphin. He is representative of the working class in Japan, but diverges from the norm in his disdain for his work, seeing it as a means to an end that he doesn’t really appreciate, and in his difficulty in connecting with others. Although he encounters many characters in the 393 page novel, he really only establishes meaningful connections with three of them: firstly, a hotel clerk at l’Hôtel Dauphin with whom he falls in love with; secondly, a thirteen year old girl who transforms from a reluctant ward into a close friend; and thirdly, a childhood classmate and TV celebrity who shares the protagonist’s connection to a disappeared protagonist. Out of these three characters, I believe that the protagonist’s relationship with the thirteen-year-old Yuki (means “snow” in English) is the most meaningful. With Yuki, the protagonist finds a different kind of soul mate – although she thinks he’s weird and he thinks she’s spoiled, the two strike a up a friendship that catches both of them off guard. Yuki reconnects the protagonist to the world that he has fallen away from while the protagonist provides Yuki an escape from her majorly dysfunctional family. Together, the two bond over music and ultimately save each other from themselves and from their respectively failing lives.
After reading “Dance Dance Dance,” I was simply affirmed in my appreciation for Murakami’s style and writing aesthetic. His characters and descriptions are stunningly detailed and his portrayal of the protagonist’s mind and voice is both convincing and enthralling. I definitely recommend this read – you’ll get social criticism, psychological exploration, and humorous surrealism all wrapped up in one!
Churning Pages 