Dance dance dance es el último libro de Murakami que ha leído, otra genialidad del que se ha convertido en mi escritor favorito.
Esta novela es una continuación de la llamada “trilogía de la rata” formada por los primeros tres trabajos de Murakami (Hear the wind sing, Pinball, 1973 y A wild sheep chase) siendo las dos primeras bastante complicadas (y caras) de conseguir.
Dance dance dance continúa la historia de A Wild Sheep Chase en el sentido de que el protagonista, algunos personajes y parte de los escenarios son los mismos, aunque puede leerse de manera independiente sin problemas.
De este modo volveremos a viajar al enigmático Dolphin Hotel para econtrarnos con una curiosa sorpresa, el viejo y cochambroso hotel ha sido comprado y transformado por una misteriosa corporación. Completamente desconcertado por este hecho, nuestro protagonista, se ve arrojado nuevamente a una variedad de sucesos y situaciones absurdamente murakamianas.
Habitaciones que aparecen y desaparecen sin motivo aparente, una curiosa “lolita” con ciertas dotes de medium, un viejo amigo actor, un cómodo Subaru, Hawaii, el hombre oveja, y el oscuro mundo de las call girls iran apareciendo ante nosotros en esta apasionante novela.
Dance dance dance, trata sobre los clásicos temas centrales de Murakami. El sentimiento de abandono, el peso de la soledad, la muerte, y el absurdo de la realidad cotidiana que nos rodea. Una genial novela en la que como nota curiosa el autor hace un “cameo” bajo el nombre de Hiraku Makimura, un ambigrama para Haruki Murakami.
Aquí os dejo algunos de mis pasajes preferidos.
I had a sense about which women I ought to sleep with. And which women I’d be able to sleep with, which not.
Maybe even which I shouldn’t sleep with. It’s an intelligence that cames with age. I also knew when to call it quits, all very nice and easy so no one got hurt.
You live by yourself for a stretch of time and you get to staring at different objects. Sometimes you talk to yourself. You take meals in crowded joints. You develop an intimate relationship with your used Subaru. You slowly but surely become a has-been.
Still, how much jurisdiction does fairness hold over sex? If fairness whas what you wanted, your sex life would be as exiting as the algae growing in an aquarium.
I waited for thirty minutes, but she didn’t call back. I’d pissed her off. Sometimes people don’t know when I’m kidding, any more than when I’m being serious. At a loss for something better to do, I wen out walking again. With luck, I might run into something new. Anyway, the idea of exercise seemed more appealing than sitting and doing nothing.
May the Force be with me.
“So when was the last time you flew? That is, before Papa bought that prostitute for you?”
“The end of last month.”
“Was it good?”
I nodded.
“Is it always good?”
“No, not always,” I said. “Bring two imperfect beings together and things don’t always go right. You’re flying along nice and easy, and suddenly there’s this enormous tree in front of you that you didn’t see before, and cr-rash”
The following morning, I went to check on the Maserati. It was still there, untouched. A curious picture, seeing it parked where the Subaru usually was. I climbed inside and sank into the seat, but just couldn’t get comforable. Like waking up and finding a beautiful woman you don’t know sleeping next to you She might be great to look at, but having her there doesn’t feel right. Makes you a little tense. You need time to get used to things.
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