Haruki Murakami writes a lovely lit­tle story called The Kidney-Shaped Stone That Moves Every Day for the New Yorker — eas­ily among the bet­ter works of fic­tion in the mag­a­zine this year.

Among the women a man meets in his life, there are only three who have real mean­ing for him. No more, no less,” his father said—or, rather, declared. He spoke coolly but with utter cer­tainty, as he might have in not­ing that the earth takes a year to revolve around the sun. Jun­pei lis­tened in silence, partly because his father’s speech was so unex­pected; he could think of noth­ing to say on the spur of the moment.

You will prob­a­bly become involved with many women in the future,” his father con­tin­ued, “but you will be wast­ing your time if a woman is the wrong one for you. I want you to remem­ber that.”

Later, sev­eral ques­tions formed in Junpei’s young mind: Has my father already met his three women? Is my mother one of them? And, if so, what hap­pened with the other two? But he was not able to ask his father these ques­tions. As noted ear­lier, the two were not on such close terms that they could speak heart to heart.

Read the full thing. It’s worth it.

  5 Responses to “A few minutes of fun”

  1. It most cer­tainly is! As great as these sto­ries are, once in a while, I’d like Maugham type tales — where you may get a slap at the end, but it’s def­i­nitely clo­sure of a sort… Am too old-fashioned for my own good :(

  2. http://tilotamma.blogspot.com/2005/09/haruki-murakami.html

    2 votes for him :-) I don’t think this was one of his best in the NYorker. This year’s well, maybe.

    I am going to hear him speak on Oct 6 :-U.

  3. Lucky you :) I really like his style — very sim­ple and straightforward.

  4. […] Kafka on the Shore is a book about a young boy who calls him­self Kakfa (Duh!) (which means crow in Czech, apparently)(Kafka means Crow, not Duh!). Kafka, whose mom and sis­ter had aban­doned him early on, runs away from home at fif­teen to get away from his dad. Kafka is also run­ning away from a prophecy of his dad. (The par­al­lels with Murukami’s short story in the New Yorker are obvi­ous: “Among the women a man meets in his life, there are only three who have real mean­ing for him. No more, no less,” his father said–or, rather, declared. He spoke coolly but with utter cer­tainty, as he might have in not­ing that the earth takes a year to revolve around the sun. […]

  5. […] Murakami on music (and lan­guage). (Older Murakami posts [1] [2] [3] […]

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