Haruki Murakami on His Favorite

Young Novelist: Mieko Kawakami



I can never forget the sense of pure astonishment I felt when I first read
Mieko Kawakami’s novella Breasts and Eggs. I rarely read anything
by new novelists, but a friend recommended this work, and from the very
first page I found myself unexpectedly drawn into the world of the novel.
The smooth style with its torrent of Kansai dialect mixed in, the sharp,
precisely chosen words, the supple shifts in perspective, the assured,
steady hand throughout—it was all so amazing it took my breath away. I
know introductory essays often say things like this, but it’s no empty
compliment or exaggeration. Seriously, it was breathtaking. If that’s too
strong an expression then feel free to change it to “I was deeply
impressed.”
But after Breasts and Eggs (which garnered a great deal of serious
attention and won the Akutagawa Prize, reserved for the best and brightest
among up-and-coming writers), Ms. Kawakami decided to lock away that
unique, wonderful style she’d written her novella in. Slowly but surely she
started telling stories that were totally different types of works, pioneering
a new style all her own. She’d originally debuted in the literary world as a
poet, but starting with Breasts and Eggs it seems that she has been
quietly determined, as a novelist, to engage in a deeper exploration of
herself. It goes without saying that for her this was the right choice.
Because for most novelists there’s a critical turning point when they have
to decide how best to bid farewell to the style of their maiden work (or
their early works).
Like a tree can be counted on to grow tall, reaching for the sky, like a river
can be counted on to flow towards the sea, Mieko Kawakami is always
ceaselessly growing and evolving. Perhaps someday she will return to the
nearly perfect, natural primal world of Breasts and Eggs. Personally I
look forward to seeing how, over the passage of time, she’s breathed new
life into that world.
(Translated by Philip Gabriel