In a honest, to-the-point narration, Murakami Haruki spins a tale of love, philosophy, friendship and mystery. A masterful storyteller, one might say. That isn’t all, though. Murakami brings to life potentially boring characters: an old man who lost sophisticated thought functions in his youth and cannot read or write or process harder thoughts; a 15-year-old runaway. With unassuming effortlessness, he spins out the tale interconnecting these characters and brings out the weaknesses and strengths of each – the runaway Kafka’s (not his real name) courage in facing a faceless world and his inability to shake off a prophecy; Oshima’s interesting nature as a human – both biologically and mentally; Miss Saeki’s yearning for the past and wish to die in the present; Nakata’s simple-minded kindness and exploited innocence. Slowly, we get a hold on a wisp of thought from the heart of the story, which builds up as the pages are turned. The mystery linking everything together remains unseen till the end (I haven’t finished it yet but it hasn’t shown up), but every new clue results in an Ooh or Aaah. Murakami lets us add things up for ourselves, which only adds to the zest of reading the story.

A storyteller indeed.