The Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami has had a long and successful career since publishing his first novel in 1979. Murakami seldom makes public pronouncements, but in 2015 he published a book about his life as a writer. Titled Novelist as a Vocation, the book was translated into English in 2022 by Philip Gabriel and Ted Goossen.
Novelist as a Vocation is an interesting book, as Murakami keeps saying that he doesn’t really have anything to teach us about being a writer. But yet he’s written a whole book about being a novelist. There were a number of times while reading the book when I thought “Huh, you know what? This Murakami guy is really a unicorn. A unique novelist, if I may be allowed to say so.” He says he’s never had writer’s block. (p.34-5) He doesn’t carry around a notebook, “It’s a real pain to carry a pad around.” (p.77) And he doesn’t write novels just for money, “My own personal policy for many years has been not to write novels because I’ve been contracted to or requested to, but I might be a rare case.” (p.113) All of these things led me to the conclusion that Murakami is a very rare case indeed. Murakami also tells us that he’s never appeared on TV or the radio to promote his books. (p.179) That’s all well and good for Murakami, but I hope he knows that many writers would love to have the opportunity for the media exposure that TV and radio would bring them.
I enjoyed reading Novelist as a Vocation, as I’m always interested in writer’s processes. Murakami is a creature of habit, and he has obviously paid attention to French novelist Gustave Flaubert’s advice: “Be regular and ordinary in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.” This could be almost a mantra for Murakami, who follows much the same routine while he’s writing and produces about 1,600 words a day. (p.95) I understand that the daily accumulation of words is what is most important about writing a novel, but sometimes I wish a novelist would say “Yeah, I usually write 1,500 words a day, but sometimes I’m really cooking and push it to 2,000 or 2,500!” I’ve never heard any writer say this. They always say variations on what Murakami says, “So I punch in, write my ten pages, and then punch out, as if I’m working on a time card.” (p.95) There is a contrast I can think of: Thomas Wolfe supposedly marched around New York City chanting “I wrote ten thousand words today! I wrote ten thousand words today!” That’s an extreme example, of course. But I’d love to hear more novelists acknowledge that sometimes chance and inspiration play more of a role in their daily routines and word counts.
As a baseball fan, I appreciate Murakami recounting the moment when he decided to write a novel: it happened at a baseball game in 1978, as Dave Hilton belted a double. And I agree with Murakami: “To fully appreciate a baseball game, you really have to be there in person!” (p.26)
I loved this quote from the book: “It is my belief that a rich, spontaneous joy lies at the root of all creative expression.” (p.67) Murakami has a democratic, egalitarian view of the artistic process, and that strongly appeals to me. I won’t make the claim that all of us can become novelists who are as successful as Murakami has been, with healthy sales and a high critical reputation, but there’s always the possibility. And that should give every aspiring artist hope.
