A Conversation with Philip Gabriel, translator of KAFKA ON THE SHORE

Q: As the translator of several Murakami novels and stories, how do you think Kafka on the Shore fits into his body of work? Do you think it's a departure from previous novels, or a return to a particular style?

A: Murakami's novels always take off in new directions at the same time that they build on the body of work that came before. In the case of Kafka, there are echoes of previous works; for instance, the two parallel narratives are reminiscent of the structure of Hardboiled Wonderland. What's most strikingly a new departure, in terms of style, is having a fifteen-year-old narrator instead of Murakami's typical thirty-something narrator. Still, the novel is recognizably Murakami throughout.

Q: What were some of the challenges in translating this novel?

A: The greatest challenge was to find the right voice for the two main characters, Kafka and Nakata, neither of whom are fully adults. On the one hand, you have a bright fifteen-year-old boy, on the other, a sixtyish old man who never developed, mentally, beyond a child. Being true to these two characters means being constrained a bit in the level of vocabulary you can employ. This is different from earlier Murakami novels, which typically feature an adult first person narrator and a cast of adult speakers. Another challenge lay in finding ways to deal with some of the word play in the text. This is the kind of thing that sometimes takes days of experimenting.

Q: On the flip side, were there any new joys or discoveries in translating this novel?

A: Translating always involves intensive, close readings of the text, probably more intensive than most people realize, and one of the great joys of the work is getting so intimate with the original text that it starts to feel like a part of your daily life. And for a work of this length and depth this feeling is intensified. The character Hoshino says at one point that he's starting to see the world through Nakata's eyes, and a similar feeling came over me in regard to the text—I started to feel as though I was seeing the world through the filter of the novel. And as always with a novel of Murakami, it is a distinct pleasure to work closely with an author who is a noted translator himself, who understands the difficulties involved in translating, and who is always more than willing to make construction suggestions. I really enjoy this interaction.

Q: In an e-mail roundtable between you, Jay Rubin and Gary Fisketjohn from 2001, you talked about how much the translator takes on the role of editor. How much editing would you say you did on Kafka?

A: There was only one short section (about one page or so) that the editor thought might be omitted, but I argued to have it retained, and it was. Like any book, Kafka goes through many hands and many eyes before it reaches the reader. Beyond the usual copy-editing and improvements the editor made to my translation, the text has not been cut and nothing has been edited out. Kakfa in my translation is whole and complete.

Q: As both main characters set out on journeys, there is a wonderful vision of Japanese countryside in this book. For American readers who have not visited Japan, do you think this is a realistic vision of the country?

A: What stands out to me about the descriptions of the countryside is the juxtaposition of the sterile anonymity of highways and roadside rest areas with the total silence of the massive forest. The depictions of "civilization" are realistic, but the forest seems more like something from the realm of the imaginary. I find the descriptions of the forest some of the most memorable passages in the novel.

Q: The character Nakata seemed familiar to many of us; in his strangeness he was almost an American archetype—the simple-minded but lovable guy who you learn something by reading about. (The first example to come to mind is Forrest Gump.) Would you say this type of character is a common archetype in Japanese literature?

A: I'd say Nakata is a new type of character in Japanese literature, and therein lies part of Murakami's originality. I think Nakata's companion Hoshino hits it on the head when he suggests that there is something spiritual about Nakata. Being with Nakata gives Hoshino the feeling he imagines Buddha's or Jesus's followers felt, a certain "rightness" about the world when he's around. While the novel is certainly "about" Kakfa, almost equal time is given to Nakata, who is one of the more memorable of Murakami's fictional characters.