Every Person Has Their Own Color
When Tsukuru Tazaki thinks back to his youth in Nagoya, he feels torn between deep gratitude and dark sadness. Today the 36-year-old leads a bleak existence in Tokyo: he builds railway stations and lives a lonely life. For a long time Tsukuru Tazaki was close to death—by his own hand. Only his growing longing for his new acquaintance Sara keeps him going: their conversations, the hope of having sex with her soon, and his tragic past constantly at his heels.
Anyone who listens to Haruki Murakami’s calm and detailed words should do so while enjoying a cup of green tea in daylight, or a glass of expensive whisky at night. There is no other way. It was the same with his earlier works Norwegian Wood, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, and 1Q84.
Tsukuru held no resentment toward his four best friends, who had rejected him without explanation 16 years earlier. He accepted his fate in silence, drowned his worries, tried his hand at love—but failed without much fuss. How might they be doing today? Gentle Shiro, lively Kuro. Strong Ao and clever Aka. He can still remember their last phone call with perfect clarity. He was asked not to contact them again. Never again.
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage is the story of a man who must reopen old wounds so as not to squander his last chance at a happy life. It is interwoven with colorful events that seem not to belong to this world and yet feel as real as possible. Sake, beauty, and six fingers—the fear of the truth never far away. A journey that only someone with nothing left to lose can undertake. Or perhaps everything.
Tsukuru’s thoughts are always somewhat melancholic; they revolve around other people. He must move forward with a decision that others made for him long ago. Could it be that he might actually understand them? Tsukuru searches for answers. But what awaits him out there will not please him.
Haruki Murakami is known for his flawless descriptions. In a very Japanese way, he presents the reader with completed facts—and then wipes them away with a single gesture in one of his notorious jumps in time. Suddenly nothing is the same as before, even though neither the characters involved nor the summer surroundings have changed. If Michael Bay were an author, Haruki Murakami would be his counterpart. No explosions, no noise, no sensory overload—but a great deal of skill.
Everything fits together like a puzzle; every mention has a purpose. When Mr. Tazaki has nothing to do, he buys a train ticket. He gets himself a cup filled with hot coffee and sits on the platform in Shinjuku. Fascinated, he watches the people: how they hurriedly get on and off, how they sink into their seats with relief, how they depart and disappear into the darkness. Getting on himself—he is afraid of that. But perhaps the time has finally come.
Anyone familiar with the previous stories of this East Asian bestselling author will find no surprises in Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage—at least no unpleasant ones. Haruki Murakami remains true to himself and has created the perfect book for the fading days of summer. And in one chapter or another we suddenly feel caught off guard, reminded of ourselves, lost in the past. So put the tea on, pour the whisky, and finally settle down on the sofa.