Murakami and the Economics of Reading

In Suter’s discussion of Murakami, he highlights something I find very fascinating: Murakami’s existence as both a writer and a businessperson. Murakami has referenced and drawn upon the Ellery Queeny novels, where the protagonists urge the readers to figure out the answers to the mysteries before the book is over. Apparently, this is the type of book Murakami would ultimately like to write, but with a particular twist – something that challenges the reader to figure out the mystery, but never fully reveals it, leaving the reader to determine whether or not they were really correct. This type of book, Murakami postulates, would be a living book, which would contain all the tension of a mystery with none of the condescension of being handed an answer. But, claims Murakami, such a book would not sell. Readers, he says, expect certain things out of novels, and one of those things is an ending.

Reading this got me thinking about the nature of business and its relation to art. As a writer, Murakami seems to want to do challenging, interesting things. He clearly sees himself as someone with great power and influence over his readers, and I’m sure creating such a living story, something that can breathe on its own outside of the influence of authorial intent, is an attractive prospect. But publishing is a business, and sometimes I think readers do not want to be challenged. And if readers do not want to be challenged, then interesting, challenging books will not be as frequently published. I can’t help but worry about that.

Murakami novels already do break some of the molds of how stories are traditionally told. The surrealist and supernatural elements of his novels, the steadfast eschewal of proper nouns, the meandering plotlines that start and stop at their own leisure; these things are all loving rejections of the literary tropes found in the traditional heroic quests and detective journeys Murakami so often references. And in Murakami’s case, these departures are allowed by readers due in part to their trust in Murakami’s talents as a writer. But even Murakami himself frequently muses on what his books can and cannot do, what kind of ending would or would not be read, because there is a line past which consumers will not go. And if even Murakami cannot guide them there, who can?

I like to think that one piece of Murakami’s legacy will be moving readers one step closer to a place where the so-called living novel could be a commercial success. I hope his works can transition us away from the sort of greedy reading experience that comes with demanding the same easily digestible, familiar narratives we’ve always had. Maybe that’s too much responsibility for one man, I can’t say. But hey – if anyone’s up for it, don’t you think it would be him?

-Amanda