"The gurgle of whiskey pouring into the glass was music to my ears. Like an old friend opening his heart to me."

From the book Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami. Page 445.

"I set the water to boil, warmed the asparagus-and-bacon sauce in a pan, and threw together a quick salad of lettuce, tomato, onion, and green peppers. When the water boiled, I tossed in the pasta and diced some parsley while it cooked."

From the book Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami. Page 351.

"'Why don't you stay for lunch?' I asked the the two of them. 'I can whip up a pasta and salad in no time.'"

From the book Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami. Page 351.

"He might have wanted to decisively separate himself from the self he used to be."

From the book Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami. Page 282.

"Many writers say this, and they're lying — but I'm not lying."

Said by Haruki Murakami in his October 10, 2018, New York Times interview: Haruki Murakami on the Writing Life, His Fantastical New Novel and the Joys of the Mundane. By Sarah Lyall.

"When he found out I was a writer he gradually began to reveal more personal details. He may have felt that, like therapists and religious leaders, writers had a legitimate right (or duty) to hear people's confessions."

From the short story, An Independent Organ, in the book Men Without Women by Haruki Murakami. Page 91.

"One day I just stopped and asked myself: What in the world are you doing with your life? I had no goals anymore and I was just spinning my wheels, watching my self-confidence disappear."

From the book Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, by Haruki Murakami. Page 315.

"The girls had suddenly disappeared, and Haida had taken their place. Just as Tsukuru came, Haida had quickly bent over, taken Tsukuru's penis in his mouth, and---careful not to get the sheets dirty---taken all of the gushing semen inside his mouth. Tsukuru came violently, the semen copious. Haida patiently accepted all of it, and when Tsukuru had finished, Haida licked his penis clean with his tongue. He seemed used to it. At least it felt that way. Haida quietly rose from the bed and went to the bathroom. Tsukuru heard water running from the faucet. Haida was probably rinsing his mouth.

Even after he came, Tsukuru's penis remained erect."

From the book, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, by Haruki Murakami. Page 127.

Having read many Haruki Murakami books over the years, the main protagonist in most of his stories can be expected to be a certain type of guy. They are usually uncomplicated, appreciative of the subtle details in a woman's body, moral, a jazz or classical music enthusiast, intelligent deep thinkers, carnal, not fussy eaters, content, more of a cat person---and in a lot of ways, interesting in a sense because they are also very average and relatable.

In all of Haruki Murakami's books, the male protagonist is always quite sexual. There are usually passages with explicit details of sexual occurrences, but they are not done in an extraneous way to be salacious and tawdry. Actually, they create more of another dimension of the character, and are usually integral elements to the book's plot that symbolizes not just sex, but that our sexual needs are never just isolated incidents that provide thoughtless relief to the body. Instead, they are the events that often shape other parts of our lives and can result in unanticipated aftereffects. A lot of these sexual incidents in his books also take place in a dreamlike dimension of fantasy, in a world where nothing is what it seems. These subconscious states are far from the normal state that we all wake up to, but borderline between the real world and a hallucinatory daze.

I'm currently reading his latest book, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage. The protagonist in this book is a guy name Tsukuru, and he falls in line with the main characters in most other Haruki Murakami books. Last night when I read the passage I quoted above, it was the first time I had ever seen his main character have any sexual engagement with another guy. My mouth dropped with each sentence I read, and it was all so unexpected. I liked that Murakami executed this in a way that is so in line with most all sexual encounters he writes about, and this too took place not in the regular world, but in a universe of the inner-self that is different for all people.

It's funny because before I started reading this book, I actually did wonder if Haruki Murakami would ever have one of his protagonists be gay or have a gay sexual encounter. I guess dreams do come true!

"Even if we aren't physically together, we are connected, as one. We create the story, and at the same time the story is what sets us in motion. Right?"

From 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami. Page 745 (e-book edition).

After taking my time to read through it for over a year, I finally finished this book last night. Whew.

Subsequent to purchasing the hardcover when it was first released last fall, I realized 1Q84 was way too heavy to carry around on a daily basis---and so I purchased the e-book edition in addition to read on my iPad. Whether it's through the news, magazines, or books, I read on a daily basis so I would normally never take this long to go through a book. I think I went through 1Q84 at such a comfortable pace because on top of it being my first electronic book purchase and experience ever, the story's over 800 pages always seemed to just conveniently be there for me---like a good reliable friend---and so I took my time and read the book at my leisure, turning to it in those moments of need while here in Bangkok.

The story itself is pretty epic, and Haruki Murakami did a great job of making 1Q84 into something that only he could (and ever would) write. And I'm not sure if this was due to just having a larger number of pages---and therefore more content---but it seemed to me like this is the most sexual book of his so far as well.

In terms of reading books electronically, there were a few things about the experience which I found to be pretty convenient. It's nice to be able to simply just double-tap a word to find out its definition, or to be ale to do a word search of all 800 pages to refresh my memory on some characters or different parts of the storyline. And while my reluctance to try e-books has somewhat changed, I think I'll stick to the old fashioned way of turning pages with my fingers or underlining words and sentences with a good old pen instead if I can.

"If he went on like this, he would probably die a miserable death."

From 1Q84 by Haruki Murkami. Page 667 (e-book edition).

Simplicity is always good.

And I love the artwork, too, for this story from November, 2005. 

(I thoroughly enjoyed this edition of fiction and it took it upon myself to produce these images to post on my blog with my digital subscription to The New Yorker. All rights are reserved by The New Yorker and will be removed upon request).

"Loneliness is an acid that eats away at you."
           
1Q84 by Haruki Murakami. Page 616.

"They filled each other's emptiness."
           
1Q84 by Haruki Murakami. Page 511 (e-book edition).

"Tengo felt a profound loneliness, the sort he had not experienced in a long time. I'm alone in this world, he thought, I have no ties with anyone." 
 
1Q84 by haruki murakami. Page 524.

"He gave up writing his novel, too. He might sit at his desk, switch on the word processor, and watch the screen light up, but he couldn't find the motivation to write."

1Q84 by haruki murkami. page 400.

"Some things can't be solved just by going wild every now and then."

1Q84 by haruki murakami. page 162.

"But how long am I going to keep this up? Aomame wondered. How long can I keep it up? I'll be thirty soon, and before long forty will come into view."

1Q84 by haruki murakami. page 157.

"No matter how far you run. Distance might not solve anything."

kafka on the shore by haruki murakami. page 4.

"It's better not to go deciding too many things now. People go through changes like you'd never believe."

dance dance dance by haruki murakami. page 366.

"You get your hair cut: you shave every morning. You aren’t a poet anymore, or a revolutionary or a rock star. You don’t pass out drunk in phone booths or blast the Doors at four in the morning. Instead, you buy life insurance from your friend’s company, drink in hotel bars, and keep your dental bills for medical deductions. That’s normal at twenty-eight.”

new york mining disaster by haruki murakami in the january 11, 1999 issue of the new yorker.