Haruki Murakami — Killing Commendatore Review
WARNING: Spoilers ahead.
I’ve been a fan of Murakami for a while, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki… is my all-time favourite book.
So I finally broke down and bought myself Murakami’s new book, Killing Commendatore. I read it from start to finish in the span of three days because I really liked it (or because I had nothing better to do), mostly on my 3-hour drive to Algonquin Park.
So what’s it about?
Skip this part if you don’t want a sarcastic refresher.
So basically, this unnamed portrait painter (who is also our narrator)’s wife decides to leave him because of a dream she had. What was her dream about? She doesn’t want to say, because ‘dreams are personal’. He wasn’t even in her dream. Weird, eh?
Our narrator leaves home and decides to go for a loooonng drive, and ends up living in the former house of a former famous painter (FFP), managed by the FFP’s son. FFP’s son reveals that FFP is in some sort of hospital/retirement home and is barely conscious, kinda waiting to die. It’s also revealed that FFP studied in Vienna for some time and went through some crazy political shit that he won’t talk about. Don’t worry, it’s revealed later in the book. The narrator gets a job as an art teacher, teaching adults and kids. He ends up sleeping with one of his adult students, some married woman.
The narrator discovers an unpublished painting by FFP, basically of a person stabbing another person and people in the background appearing anguished.
The narrator then meets this weird rich guy who seems to be lonely. He lives in this big ass mansion near him. Weird Rich Guy asks Narrator to paint his portrait. Narrator agrees and they get closer and become friends.
At one point, the narrator keeps hearing this ringing bell sound at an area near his house, in this hole. He tells Weird Rich Guy about it, and WRG was like “yo we have to investigate this” and hires a bunch of people to dig the hole to find out where the noise is coming from. I told you, he’s weird.
Wait, but then it gets even weirder. Weird Rich Guy invites Narrator over and gives Narrator a pair of high quality binoculars and tells him to look at certain people at a certain house. But why? Weird Rich Guy tells Narrator a story about a woman he had casual sex with years ago that suddenly left him to get married. WRG thinks he has a daughter with that woman, who would be thirteen years old by now.
Weird Rich Guy thinks that his distant daughter is in that house he’s spying on. And he bought the house he’s in just so he can spy on her. Sorry, I mean, so he can look out for her.
He asks Narrator to paint her portrait. Narrator goes “but how would I even do that? She doesn’t know me.” Oh but he does. WRG’s possible daughter is one of Narrator’s students.
So that happens. Then Narrator starts hallucinating and seeing a figure from the famous painting by FFP come to life, who calls theirself an Idea. Some weird supernatural shit happens, a lot of other things happen, and the book ends.
Things I Liked About The Book
The conversation between the narrator and Menshiki about the thought of leaving each other in the pit.
When Menshiki requested to be put in the pit for an hour, he asked the narrator if he ever thought about abandoning him there. The narrator said not even for a second. But Menshiki said that if it were the other way around, he would’ve thought about it. I found that part really deep.
Down at the bottom of the pit that’s what I was thinking about the whole time. That if I was in your position I would definitely consider it. It’s a strange thing.
I liked how honest and open Menshiki was about it, despite it being an ugly thought. It’s a real depiction of human nature, the nasty things that go through our head. I think we should be more open to thoughts and feelings like these. It’s part of being human and after all, it’s our actions that truly matter.
And then Menshiki said this,
When you’re locked up alone in a cramped, dark place, the most frightening thing isn’t death. The most terrifying thought is that I might have to live here forever. […] In order to survive, a person has to overcome that fear. Which means conquering yourself. And in order to do that, you need to get as close to death as you possibly can.
I think that quote is a powerful metaphor for our personal inner demons in life. Some branches of philosophy touch on this topic, such as stoicism. There is this latin phrase, Memento Mori, which means “Remember to die”.
The idea is that if you keep the concept of death in mind, you will appreciate your surroundings and the people in your life more. You will value the time you have even more because death reminds us that it’s all so fleeting.
When you value what life has to offer more (by reflecting on death), you immerse yourself more in your experiences, actions, and life in general. You learn to accept and deal with the lows and make the most out of the highs because they’re all part of human experience. You gain this deep appreciation for existence.
So yeah, human nature and reflecting on death. 🤘
The relationship between the narrator and Menshiki in general
is odd, but it’s so beautiful. Menshiki is a weird freaking dude, but the narrator accepts him for who he is. It’s not like Menshiki is a bad person, he’s just odd. The narrator understands that Menshiki is a product of his circumstances and that he means well.
This passage sums up their relationship:
Menshiki: It’s hard to explain, but I got the feeling the first day I met you that it’s all right to let my guard down. Call it intuition. And that feeling only grew stronger after I saw my portrait. I decided, This is a trustworthy person. Someone who would accept my way of seeing things, my way of thinking. Even if I have a slightly odd and twisted way of seeing and thinking.
Narrator: I’m really happy you’d say that, but I don’t think I understand you as a person. You go way beyond the scope of my comprehension. […]
Menshiki: But you never try to judge me. Am I right?
Narrator: You might be right.
I think it’s sort of relatable. We might sometimes feel like we have weird thoughts or feelings, it’s part of being human. It’s so nice to have someone we can confide in that accepts those weird thoughts or feelings.
I bet you’re thinking of someone like that right now, aren’t you? 😉😉
It’s okay. I won’t judge.
Also, have you noticed how the narrator and Menshiki are so polite to each other? Like, extremely polite. Just read any of their conversations. Personally, it inspires me to be more kind in my interactions. Obviously not an excessive amount, but a good amount.
How Mr. Menshiki is basically Japanese Jay Gatsby
without the fancy parties or the habit of saying ‘old sport’ after every sentence. I didn’t notice this at first, until I got to about three hundred pages in.
Check out this description of Jay Gatsby from The Great Gatsby:
He was wearing a white button-down shirt, a fancy wool vest with an intricate pattern, and a bluish-gray tweed jacket. His chinos were a light mustard color, his suede shoes brown. A coordinated and comfortable outfit, as always. His white hair glowed in the autumn sun. […] He was always so cool, holding himself in check with his feelings packed out of sight.
Totally accurate description of Jay Gatsby, eh? Well, I fooled you. That’s actually a description of Mr. Menshiki. And there are more parallels, the most distinct being rich, lonely, and very polite.
Here’s a compelling thought: If Leonardo DiCaprio played Jay Gatsby in The Great Gatsby, who would play Mr. Menshiki if Killing Commendatore ever became a movie?
Murakami’s ‘Accidental Advice’
Mariye, a young girl concerned with the lack of growth of her breast size, vents to the Commendatore. And the Commendatore offers this pretty relatable advice:
No need to worry. Time is the remedy for your concerns. It is the key for all things that possess form. True, time does not last forever, but as long as you have it, it is remarkably effacious. So look forward to the future, my friends.
Passages like that are what Murakami’s books consist of, and it is amazing. Solid advice with a dash of optimism.
The way Murakami writes about paintings and art in general
There are a lot of passages about painting, since this book focuses on the life of a portrait painter. Here’s an example:
As you might imagine, painting a portrait requires the ability to accurately grasp the special features of a person’s face. But that’s not all. If it were, you’d end up with a caricature. To paint a vibrant portrait you need the skill to discover what lies at the core of a person’s face. A face is like reading a palm. More than the features you’re born with, a face is gradually formed over the passage of time, through all the experiences a person goes through, and no two faces are alike.
Reading this book has given me a deeper admiration for art. It made me realize that paintings are more than just eye candy, they contain deep meanings behind them. I think they are worth studying. When you are given the meaning behind a certain piece of art, you judge that piece of art based on more than its appearance, enhancing its “wow factor”.
Here’s an example:
Take a look at this painting and ask yourself how it makes you feel and what you think of it. Now, search the painting up to find out what it means and re-evaluate your perception of it. Case in point. 🤩
Closing Thoughts
I really enjoyed this book. To be honest, Murakami is not one of my favourite others, but I love his work. I’m glad he came out with a new book.
Thanks for reading. :)
