Kizuki's Suicide or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My Imagination

I must preface and say that this blog post will be a rant, a rant about a singular sequence in the film adaptation of Norwegian Wood. Said sequence being Kizuki's suicide.

In the book, Kizuki's suicide is tragic as it is enigmatic. His death impacts the lives of both Toru and Naoko in their established connections to one another, but also because of the sheer abruptness of his suicide. He doesn't inform anyone of it prior to his commitment, choosing to inform no family member nor Naoko or Toru. The most anyone gets out of Kizuki's intentions is when Toru spends time playing pool with Kizuki a day before his suicide. Kizuki responds with "I didn't want to lose today"(p. 24) when Toru notices his stoic drive to win during their games of pool. This suggests Kizuki's desire to spend his last day "winning" rather than going out on a sullen note, but not exactly why he want to "go out" in the first place. All we find out regarding Kizuki's suicide is that he died by self-inflicted carbon monoxide poisoning in his family's car parked in the garage. No suicide note, no further investigation, nothing. Toru and the reader are left to ponder many factors regarding his death. The length of time, the degree of suffrage Kizuki endured, whether there where attempts to stop the suicide; none of the questions that a reader may pose are ever answered. The same can't be said about the film. 

In the film, Kizuki's entire suicide routine is showed. We see him get into the car, release carbon monoxide into the car, and suffer a bit until his death. This sequence answers just about every question one may have regarding his death, leaving little to be pondered. That is until the end. There is a brief moment where the camera lingers on Kizuki flinging to the backseat of the car, seemingly attempting to escape, or no, accept his fate? It's hard to tell what he's doing, and that's what makes those brief seconds within the film so great. We only hear the carbon monoxide permeating throughout the car and Kizuki's grunts of suffrage, all morbidly striking choices. This is however ruined once his noises cease as the camera pans over to Kizuki in the backseat, confirming his death, blue-balling the audience from getting to place the final jigsaw in the puzzle themselves. I honestly eye-rolled in this decision.

In film, the concept of "off-screen space" can be a powerful tool at the disposal of the filmmaker. Off-screen space allows the creative to create a more engaging scene by using sound or other background elements to imply movement or action taking place behind a scene. Although the audience can't see what's going on out of frame, they can infer or deduce based on the scene's off-screen attributions. This allows the film's audience to be actively engaged as they are then required to use their imaginations to understand and deduce the narrative for themselves. Jafar Panahi's It Was Just an Accident, Cannes 2025's Palme d'Or winner, received it's acclaim partially do to a brilliant ending that had utilized off-screen space to manifest a chilling finale. I can't help that if the film was going to alleviate some of the mystery behind Kizuki's suicide, it would have benefited simply from having it all take place in a static shot, obscuring some of the moment-to-moment action within his suicide. With this change, some audience members may think he had suffered with little effect to his body while others may begin to suspect that perhaps he had suffered a violent and hellish death due to the effects of the poisoning, Albeit morbid thoughts, Kizuki's death can continue to feel enigmatic while attempting to show some of it to the audience. You get to have your cake and eat it too! 

Overall, I noticed this issue consistently throughout the film. It attempts to be straightforward and to the point when Murakami as a writer is anything but straightforward. It paints Naoko and Toru's death as a tragic love-story while failing to consider the other otherworldly and dream-like elements of the film, leaving nothing up to the imagination. The audience isn't dumb, they can think for themselves!

- DK 

 

A Friend of Gatsby: Characteristic Analogies Between Norwegian Wood and Gatsby

Reading Norwegian Wood, I could see a very obvious comparison between the two novels drawing Toru and Gatsby as mirrors. I think the imagery that comes with Gatsby yearning for Daisy on the dock staring at the green light of the Buchanan house in East Egg could pair nicely with Toru seeing his love affair with Naoko play out while her heart still belong s to Kizuki. Really, I could see East Egg being a physical manifestation of a space before death like the sanatorium seems to be. 

But I wasn't fully pleased with this obvious paring, especially factoring in Nagasawa. Gatsby is the uniting factor between Nagasawa and Toru: "'Any friend of Gatsby is a friend of mine.'" (30) Initially, for me, this placed Nagasawa, Toru, and Gatsby into a sort of vague category that admittedly doesn't make sense when I think of it now; however, when Nagasawa does compare Toru and himself, he states that Toru also has a "hunger that won't go away" (210) indicating that there is something perpetually missing from him as it is in supposedly Nagasawa (though I don't agree) as well as Gatsby incidentally. But I don't think Nagasawa and Toru actually are one and the same (maybe you do which is ok), and I also don't think that at this point in the narrative Toru has a desire that never ceases—I think that comes after when Naoko dies. This is where I'd like to make a maybe farfetched nomination for Norwegian Wood's Gatsby character as Naoko.

I'll get to Naoko in a moment, but this theory also frames Toru as Nick Carraway—a comparison I actually rather like. And one reason for this is that Gatsby ends (in a sense) the way Norwegian Wood begins: with the Dutch. Obviously I know that Norwegian Wood begins as Toru begins his descent to Hamburg, but there is also this description: "Cold November rains drenched the earth and lent everything the gloomy air of Flemish landscape." It's my understanding that the Flemish region is specifically in Belgium today, but that the "Low Countries" historically refer the Netherlands, Belgium, and Luxembourg and their strategic position between France and Germany though they did not specifically include those two entirely. I'm not sure if there is a separate word for Flemish in Japanese that refers to the same specific region that it refers to in English, but I think attaching the Flemish landscape to a descent toward a place that is not the narrator's place of origin could echo for both narrators the final paragraphs of Gatsby in which Fitzgerald references Dutch sailors arriving in New York: 

"And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes—a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder. 

And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night. 

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine morning—— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." (Fitzgerald 127)

Gatsby is likened to the Dutch sailors through their respective capacities for wonder. Nick Carraway mentions that they are "compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired." Initially this made me think of how Toru says that he writes to understand himself, but the aesthetic contemplation he does by writing this book—grieving Naoko and Kizuki—is something he does desire because he desires understanding. So perhaps this aesthetic contemplation could actually be representative of Naoko's life as she is forced to sit with not only Kizuki's death, but also her sister's. Naoko, like Gatsby,  is consumed by the past. I think to a certain extent the green light also signifies something made inaccessible by institution (marriage or literal institution though perhaps that's reaching) and it could also signal sequestration or death. The connection between Nick Carraway and Daisy Buchanan is familial, perhaps mirroring Toru and Kizuchi. Marriage to Tom Buchanan in this analogy would logically then represent death in my eyes (possibly because I've always disliked him so much). There's also the small detail that at the beginning of Norwegian Wood, Toru is thirty seven, and on Nick Carraway's thirtieth birthday he says: "Thirty—the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know, a thinning briefcase of enthusiasm, thinning hair." At the end of both novels, it's also just relevant to my theory that Daisy / Kizuki and Gatsby / Naoko are dead while Nick / Toru is alive (and both Naoko and Gatsby have sparsely attended funerals!). So maybe Toru actually is a friend of Gatsby's after all (or a lover?) Anyways, just a fun theory!

—Alana

On Norwegian Wood's film version

 In general, I found the portion of Norwegian Wood that we watched in class to be more fast-paced than I had expected. There was also less dialogue than I thought there would be, making the plot flow feel somewhat disjointed and sparse in detail. On the other hand, I thought the casting for Midori and Naoko was really well done.

The use of setting also stood out to me. Notably, the forest was used as background scenery in many more scenes than Murakami had put in the book. Specifically, Midori and Toru sit together on a bench in the woods; Naoko and Toru's walk together doesn't ever show them leaving the forest; and Toru first meets Reiko in the forest instead of inside one of Ami Hostel's buildings, as Murakami had written it. I suppose the director was attempting to make the forest a much more central motif than it originally was in order to better match the book's title. This change also could have been to create more continuity between Toru's interactions with each woman, creating a more obvious link between them for the viewer. Or maybe it's just to more intensely foreshadow Naoko's death in the forest.

However, the biggest scene change for me was that of Toru and Midori's first kiss. Rather than kissing out on the balcony as they watched a burning building, the director chose to make them kiss by a window as the rain pours down outside. I don't know whether this decision was made in order to tone down Midori's eccentricity (it was her suggestion to watch a building burn down for fun, after all) or if this was meant to add to the element of rain Murakami employs in the book (like the scene where Toru and Midori kiss on the street in the middle of a rainstorm). Murakami's rain scenes make me think of what he wrote in "Abandoning a Cat" about raindrops representing people: each drop (person) has their own story, fears, etc. but once they merge with others and form a collective, none of it matters. If this is the case here too, I think rain adds to the sense of understanding between Toru and Midori in the moment as they kiss. Both characters are able to lay down their respective worries (Midori's being her family issues and Toru's being Naoko's condition) and become one for a moment (physically through the act of kissing and emotionally through the connection they feel to one another). 

Overall, I don't dislike the movie but I feel the book has more substance to it. However, if the rest of the movie slows down a bit and digs into the character's exchanges a bit more, it could be better redeemed.

Sloane 

Norwegian Wood: Film vs Book

 Hello Class, 

The main difference that I want to highlight is the loss of Murakami's slow and subtle building of emotion and understanding in Norwegian Wood. The movie seems to lose the subtlety of Naoko's eventual departure to the sanatorium. 

To start, when Naoko is reunited with Toru in the film, she already appears to be holding on by a thread. Her actions during their walk make her seem as if she should be going to a sanatorium immediately. We lose the more melancholic and humanizing moments from the book. Like when Naoko laughs at Storm Trooper stories or when she and Toru are genuinely attempting to understand each other. Instead, the movie presents Naoko as emotionally detached, vacant, and constantly disassociating. Because of this, her instability feels obvious, removing much of the surprise from her sudden departure. 

Naoko's birthday serves as a tipping point in the book. She and Toru seem to be on good terms, meeting every Saturday and building a connection. The narration makes it seems like she is having a great time, until, she suddenly can't stop crying. While this is depicted on screen, the scene that follows is drastically different. In the novel, Toru describes the encounter as something that simply happens to both of them, emphasizing emotional distance in a reflective and quiet manner. The film, however, does not keep this atmosphere during the scene. Instead it opts for something that appears more disturbing. Naoko lies nearly motionless, like a lifeless corpse, as if her mind has shut down. This shift in tone makes her later move to the sanatorium feel more expected than sudden.

Overall, I think the movie does a fine job as an adaptation but dramatizes the book, which loses some key subtleties!

-Raul 

Storm Trooper in Norwegian Wood Movie :(

I don’t know…I found storm trooper to be one of the most important characters in the book. In the movie, I felt that he was just used as a brief source of comic relief in the beginning, and then written out with no explanation. For me, the saddest moment in the book is when Toru finds out storm trooper has left without a word. Though storm trooper does not die, his loss seems to impact Toru like a death would, leaving something empty inside. Storm trooper seemed to animate his life, lifting him out of his general state of apathy. On Toru’s walks with Naoko, his stories of storm trooper made Naoko laugh the most. Storm trooper’s exit in the story affected his relationship with Naoko; they didn’t really have much to laugh about after he was gone. I think the dynamic between Toru, Naoko, and storm trooper is important, even though Naoko and storm trooper never meet. In this novel, there is almost always an intermediary between a two-person relationship: Toru with Naoko and Kizuki, Reiko with Toru and Naoko, Toru with Nagasawa and Hatsumi. Relationships are not bilateral, they are held together by a much larger social fabric. Storm trooper serves to show how relationships between two people cannot exist in a vacuum; people who never meet are still deeply interconnected. Toru’s loss of storm trooper undoes a part of the social web which connects him with others; this loss bleeds into his relationship with Naoko, darkening it. It really bothered me that this narrative was written out of the movie, especially in the context of Naoko and Toru’s conversations. I feel that their walks were a bit flat and one-dimensional without those moments of laughter and feelings of connectedness with an outside world beyond the two of them. In a way, storm trooper was Naoko and Toru’s tether to the real world, something in the present moment so that their relationship was not only defined by their past. I think these cuts hurt the movie overall; without storm trooper, the movie doesn’t capture Murakami’s themes surrounding social relationality, or Toru’s connection/disconnection with his dormitory's culture, as well as it could. I think I am just fixated on this one moment though, and I thought the movie was good while I was watching it. 

Juliet 

Thoughts on Norwegian Woods movie vs book

 I found many differences between the movie and the book. Most notably, the pacing is MUCH faster. The movie barely touched on the parts with Watanabe’s crazy roommate, the student protest, and Nagasawa. This is understandable, as a movie can’t drag out the story like a book can. The movie skipped the whole part about Toru’s girlfriend in Kobe, which was an interesting choice. Also, during Toru and Naoko’s first walk in the forest, when I read the book I didn’t think they were so quiet, but I realized in the movie that they barely talked at all. To be honest, I thought these two have zero chemistry (at least in the beginning) and have no idea how they got this close. 

The character in the movie that matched closest with my imagination from the book is Midori. She is bubbly, speaks whatever is on her mind, and fashionable like I remembered. Reiko looks older than I imagined her to be. I imagined Reiko would be closer in age with Naoko, but maybe that is just because I didn’t read the book enough (after a search, indeed she is in her 30s and I just did not read enough). Also, I know the movie was filmed in 2010, but it feels a lot older than it actually is. Like, the film just does not feel modern, and definitely not targeted toward western audiences. 

Murakami himself said that the book was written with the mindset of being “100% realistic.” However, from how the movie was directed and with the eerie music, it feels more dreamlike than realistic. I feel like this is a deliberate choice to capture the mood of the book, which I can see. The movie progressed so fast that it feels a bit surreal to be honest. 

-Allen

Norwegian Wood & and the blend of the real with the surreal

Relative to his other works, Norwegian Wood is framed as Murakami's most realistic book, both by his own claims and by audience opinion. Yet many elements in it make it feel just as surreal as many of his other stories. The only thing that really separates it from his more surreal works is the lack of explicit supernatural content- elements like sheep men and alternate worlds are absent from Norwegian Wood, and yet its characters and settings are far from what most would consider realistic.

My first read of Norwegian Wood was a few years ago, and at the time I had been going through Murakami's novels one after the other without much prior research. Upon finishing it, I hadn't even noticed the absence of supernatural elements — it felt essentially the same as any of his other books. Only after reflecting on it later and discussing it in class did I register that it was intended to be a realist novel.

I think the reason Norwegian Wood came across this way to me is that Murakami's style is so entrenched in surreality that even his realistic novels end up feeling strange, unusual, and ultimately surreal. What I love about this quality is not just that all of his books feel strange, but that he makes the surreal feel normal. A book like Norwegian Wood might read similarly to one of his more surreal works- but you could also say that his more surreal works read more grounded than they first appear. Whether it's Norwegian Wood or Killing Commendatore, Murakami blends realism and surrealism so seamlessly that even his realistic books occupy that feeling somewhere between the real and the abstract.

Kevin