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Summary: Two disparate perspectives, one remaining question . . .
Review: Haruki Murakami's UNDERGROUND is a document of the people on both sides of Aum Shinrikyo's sarin gas attacks in the Tokyo subways in March 1995. The book is notable for what light it casts on its subject, and also for the shadows that still remain. It does give a voice to the victims of the attack and the members of Aum, past and present. However, it does not, and cannot, answer the question that lingers like an unhealed wound: Why did this happen?The first half of the book is devoted to the testimonies of the victims. Murakami's approach is deliberate. Apart from the author's brief introduction to each account, the victims tell their own stories in their own words. The testimonies at times become homogeneous and repetitive, but this is to be expected, since everyone experienced the same event. Every survivor experienced (and largely ignored) the same symptoms -- contracted pupils, runny nose, headache, stuffy throat. This is actually significant, because most victims never realized they were in terrible danger until they noticed 1) a lot of other people had the same symptoms (or worse), and/or 2) the symptoms became so pronounced that it was too late to ignore them anymore. In this section, Murakami's style is evident only in one especially emotional account, in which he visits a woman maimed in the attack. Her damaged brain will never again be the same as before the attack, and yet, when she exults at the thought of visiting Tokyo Disneyland someday with her brother and family, we share in a moment that is touching and unforgettable -- and a tribute to one indefatigable human spirit. The second half of UNDERGROUND (following an observation by the author) is devoted to the stories of various Aum members. Murakami's role is more active than with the victims -- he uses a straight interview format, and in some cases, their responses raise new questions. It is somewhat disappointing that we never hear from Aum members who could have been entrusted with carrying out the attacks -- we only hear from general Aum renunciates. For this reason, when asked if they would have helped carry out the attacks, their answers are mostly, "I probably would have resisted." Additionally, almost every Aum member interviewed initially disbelieved that their organization was culpable for the gas attack, and they seemed more than willing to separate the attack from the reason they originally joined the group. As a result, not one Aum member seems to regret his or her decision to renounce the world. So although we learn about the kind of people who joined Aum Shinrikyo, we never quite learn the reasons its members carried out such an atrocity. But the book's failings are not necessarily the author's. Although the victims' testimonies are repetitive, and we never truly learn the motivations of the attackers, this is meant to be a distinctly human account of both sides, and Murakami succeeds. The attack has already been extensively documented in the Japanese media, and history would not have been any better served by a more general account. Instead, Murakami's book lives and breathes with the perspectives of two worlds that seem so different and yet are inexplicably linked.
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Summary: A Fascinating Look at the Japanese Psyche
Review: Haruki Murakami's UNDERGROUND offers a window into the soul of Japan, and the view is deeply disturbing. Better than any sociological treatise or mere reportage, Murakami describes the 1995 sarin gas attack in Tokyo's subway system almost exclusively through the voices of its victims, their families, others who were pulled into the emergency, and finally, members of the Aum Shinrikyo cult that perpetrated the attack (but not those directly involved).
UNDERGROUND paints a picture that is at times tragically sad. The story told by Yoshiko Wada, the then-pregnant wife of Eiji Wada (one of those who died), is one of the most moving pieces of writing I can remember. Sad as well are the stories of subway workers who died trying to save others, and the descriptions of people lying on the sidewalks, comatose or experiencing violent spasms while their fellow salarymen pass hurriedly by on their way to work, refusing to notice.
At other times, the picture borders on grotesque. There are verbal images of subway cars full of coughing Japanese commuters, some falling to the floor, with no one becoming suspicious that something terribly wrong was happening. Some victims head for work nearly blind from their contracted pupils (an effect of the sarin), yet they proceed as if it's just a head cold. Other images portraying commuters blithely exiting a subway station at near-normal pace while loudspeakers blare "Gas attack!" are almost unbelievable. More so are the images of Japanese salarymen crawling on the sidewalks, on their hands and knees, to get to work, so single-mindedly driven by habit and inculcated sense of duty they resemble the robot assassins in TERMINATOR, relentlessly intent on completing their mission even as they are dying.
Murakami takes an intriguing approach to telling this story, refusing to give us background information on the Aum cult or its leader, Shoko Asahara. This decision seems frustrating at first, but the effect is powerful. Murakami's interest is the victims' stories, not Aum Shinrikyo's. Doubtless many of those injured by the sarin attack knew little or nothing of Aum at the time, just as many in the World Trade Center on 9/11 had probably never heard of Osama bin-Laden. We feel nearly as disoriented and confused reading their stories as they felt experiencing the events - who, what, why? By forcing us to focus on the victims and their collective reactions, Murakami makes us feel the same sense of inexplicable irrationality they must have felt. We experience the effect while barely understanding the cause.
In the last quarter of the book, Murakami switches from invisible recorder of peoples' stories to active interviewer of some past and current Aum cult members. As those individuals speak, the background becomes clearer and the stories of the victims gain perspective, fitting into a large picture of Japanese society. The statements of these Aum followers reflect the typical cultist's emotional detachment and sense of not being "normal," but after the bizarre descriptions provided by the supposedly normal victims, I could not help wondering who in this society was really the more sane. The Aum interviewees universally reject the terrorism of the Tokyo subway attacks, yet they see those events as nothing more than a perversion of higher principles and practices to which they nearly all subscribe. They view their Aum days as peaceful, fulfilling, and beneficial, feelings they (and everyone else in the book) seem unable to find anywhere else in Japanese society.
At times, Murakami's interviews seem overly repetitive, but even the repetition is revealing. We see into a society whose suppression of individuality is so overwhelming, people who don't know each other use almost identical phrases to describe their experience. They share common reactions to the events and even common disinterest in their victimizers. They speak of two hour one-way commutes on hot trains packed wall-to-wall with people, work days that routinely run from 5:00 a.m. to midnight, and work ethics that submerge any sense of self (and any common sense as well) as if these were the natural living conditions of 20th Century mankind. The one person who may have saved the most lives that day, Dr. Nobuo Yanagisawa, did so by acting the least Japanese of anyone in this book. Intentionally or not, Haruki Murakami has shown us a "normal" Japan nearly as horrifying as the sarin gas itself.
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Summary: Murakami Does It Again!
Review: Haruki Murakami, Japans's most important contemporary novelist, does it again with his tremendous insight and acute x-ray vision. Murakami weaves together how on March 20, 1995, affected not only the survivors of the Aum gas attack, but how it has changed Japan's psyche today. It's refreshing to read a novel that can not only show the historical aspects, but illustrate the soul of suffering. Haruki Murakami sheds light in a way only few can see. I wish I could get in contact with him so he could sign my book.
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Summary: A touching departure from Murakami's usual fare
Review: I admit I was a bit hesitant to read non-fiction from this author because of my fondness for his fictional style, but a few pages in I found there was nothing to fear. Murakami's subtle style presents a very personal glimpse into the aftermath of this event, one that forever changed a society not accustomed to such a random, unthinkable act (sound familiar?). The fact that he interviewed both victims and perpetrators of the attacks added hugely to the account, revealing an element of disorientation and confusion common to both sides. Murakami is clearly not a historian or a journalist, but this is actually an asset to the book's mood. I cannot wait to read Murakami's next venture into non-fiction.
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Summary: A touching departure from Murakami's usual fare
Review: I admit I was a bit hesitant to read non-fiction from this author because of my fondness for his fictional style, but a few pages in I found there was nothing to fear. Murakami's subtle style presents a very personal glimpse into the aftermath of this event, one that forever changed a society not accustomed to such a random, unthinkable act (sound familiar?). The fact that he interviewed both victims and perpetrators of the attacks added hugely to the account, revealing an element of disorientation and confusion common to both sides. Murakami is clearly not a historian or a journalist, but this is actually an asset to the book's mood. I cannot wait to read Murakami's next venture into non-fiction.
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Summary: unique and powerful
Review: I am a fan of Haruki Murakami's novels. I was somewhat skeptical coming to the reading of _Underground_ that perhaps HM was in out of his depth with this book. He's not an oral historian, he's a novelist. I happen to think he's a great novelist, but still _Underground_ is not the kind of book which has helped to build his reputation. The first portion of the book is made up of short (usually 3 pages) recollections of survivors of the Sarin attack on the Tokyo subway. The voices are at first boring and hohum, just everyday joes and janes telling us things like why they missed their ordinary train, or what kind of job they do, or used to do. The testimony of how the sarin caused them to lose their breath, their vision to dim, and them to fall down on the pavement is harrowing. Still, all this testimony starts to get boring after about reading 10 accounts, I found. After reading about 100 pages, though, the voices take on a resonance that is incredibly powerful. Such an attack, releasing packets of poison gas on a subway crowded with thousands of morning commuters, trapped underground-- it's remarkable! it's possibly the most heinous act of terrorism ever! I read these accounts again and again, and I would have read twice as many, had they been included in the text. The second part of the book includes a short essay by Haruki Murakami, explaining where the gas attack fit in for him. Then there are interviews with Aum Shinrikyo members who either participated in the attack or were members of the cult/organization who had no knowledge of the production of the chemicals or their use. Personally, when I first read about this attack in 1995, I had no idea that many of the Aum members were sequestered away from the main group, living in isolated mountain towns, performing their duties and living their lives as ascetics. These individuals apparently had no idea that their colleagues had performed such a treacherous act. The second half of the book is just as interesting as the first, but very different. Haruki's questions are included in the text, and it appears in interview format. (some of them former) Aum group members explain what caused them to become interested in Aum, how they joined, what they did for a living, and how, if at all, they participated in the attack. Some also engage Haruki in philosophical talk. All in all, i would recommend reading this book if you are a fan of the novels of Haruki Murakami. I would also recommend this book to any student of modern Japan. If you are interested in the psychology of cults and religions which ask their believers to renounce society and material things, this could be a very interesting book as well. If it weren't for Haruki's name on this book, I never would have read it. That's a shame, because I was fascinated in the subject matter moreso than the perspective of the author. I surely wish I could find more books like _Underground_, if even they exist.
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Summary: Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this
Review: I first heard about this book when NPR's This American Life read excerpts from it in one of their shows. It sounded fascinating. Murakami lets his interviewees tell their own stories, which gives the reader an authentic feel for their experiences and personalities. Unfortunately, because he does this without benefit of a unifying narritive voice, the book doesn't flow very well. Each story is told in its entirety, becoming its own plot unto itself. I can understand that he wanted to make each victim's experience as important than the overall event, but for me it made the book feel redundant. With each successive interview, that morning in March, 1995 began over and over again. While frustrating, Underground paints an interesting portrait of the Japanese psyche. For the same reasons it failed as a documentary, I thought it was excellent as a social commentary. You get a feel for the personalities (and idiosyncracies) of the victims, and what drove many of them to remain in the subway that morning after it was clear that something was horribly wrong. It will be interesting to comapre these accounts with American eyewitness accounts of the September 11 attacks. Also, I would also recommend that anyone unfamiliar with Tokyo geography keep a good map of handy.
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Summary: Timely
Review: I read Underground because because it is Haruki Murakami's latest book translated to English...he's one of my favorite authors. My reading of this book also coincided with the Sept 11 attacks. In my opinion there are many parallels that can be drawn between the leaders of Aum and people who carried out bin Laden's mission. We automatically think 'who could do such a thing'...only to find that they are well-educated and part of an elite group. I sincerely wish that more people would read this book. He puts such a humane spin on such an atrocity. Not that I'm sympathetic to the Aum leaders, but he (MH) forces us to understand how this sort of thing happens...trying to find our own meaning in the world, our Self, etc. I found his own commentary and observation to be the most interesting of the entire book. I highly recommend this book and all of his other books.
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Summary: "when are they coming back?"
Review: i was for some reason browsing the japanese history section of my local bookstore last week when i picked this book up. i sat down with it and read a bit. i ended up coming back to that bookstore some five or six times in the next week, each time reading a bit more. so i read this book without buying it, probably because, in my four years in college, i've become conditioned only to buy a non-fiction book if i have to. however, if i weren't conditioned against doing so, i would have bought murakami haruki's underground. the actual anecdotes of the various businessmen and students murakami details are chilling. i, a writer myself, can't put it any other way. at first, i marveled at these stories (like the one where the guy says he asked his wife for a divorce just before going to work), thinking, "what eloquent people murakami has found amidst the 'ordinary' japanese population!" only after reading twenty or so of these interviews did i realize it: every person, not just the those who survived the tokyo gas attack, has a story to tell. most people just don't have the ability to flatten that story out into eloquent words; murakami proves, in this book, that, if nothing else, he is talented as an interviewer, talented at asking questions that will elicit eloquent responses. that makes me respect him even more as a writer than i did before, which is a good thing. a bad thing, though, is that the stories in the first part tend to get a little bit tedious. murakami is making his point, about how japanese people shun "weirdness" without admitting that they too may be susceptible to it, and he is making that point over and over again. that's not to say each and every anecdote wasn't thoroughly interesting, however. murakami's small autobiographical essay following part one, which might seem misplaced if one simply looks at the table of contents, comes as a great revelation. he explains how he was back in japan after living abroad for so long, staying a hundred miles south of tokyo on the day of the sarin attack. he explains how he wasn't even watching television or listening to the radio; he was tidying up some bookshelves and listening to some records. murakami goes on to explain his sabbatical from japan, all the things he left behind, and how he wrote about japan when he was away from japan. underground, to me, as a writer, is another writer's desire to find a REASON to return to his roots. murakami explains how he was just thinking, that quiet day of the gas attack, of how he wanted to return to japan for the purpose of writing a not-so-distanced book about japan. how strange that the gas attack, the soon-to-be subject for his next book, was happening in those very moments. murakami, in his essay, talks a lot about the wind-up bird chronicle and hard-boiled wonderland and the end of the world, and with good reason. murakami, in staying so far from japan for so long, was left with nothing other than the past memories of japan to inspire his writing, and so his books, especially wind-up bird chronicle (with its somewhat heavy exposition on the japanese doings in manchuria), rely on japan's past, not just murakami's past. it's a bit confusing, i know. still, this feeling hit me as i finished reading murakami's interlude. this book was his reason for writing about japan in the present, his reason for going back to his home. what he and his interview subjects detail in this book is quite revelatory, as far as japanese psychology is concerned; i won't bother going into detail. for me, the highlight of the book is murakami's reason for writing it. sometimes, we feel like we have to get away from something -- in murakami's case, it was the insane popularity of norwegian wood -- and when we do, well, we have to come back eventually, don't we? it strikes me as more than just ironic that japan, a country whose glorious culture is mostly borrowed, would produce a people who would produce a writer who would produce such a book. the big question is: when did the japanese people leave "japan" behind? when are they coming back? and, even then, where are they going to go? it took murakami until his middle forties to ask such big and critical questions in book form, and it's only natural that his book, not even on a subconscious level, doesn't answer them. i subtract a star because it can grow (slightly) tedious. still, i can forgive that, because it made me think. and i LOVE the cover art!
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Summary: A Sad book that Ends the Way Murakami Writes His Fiction
Review: I was looking down my "to buy" list of books, mostly composed of just Murakami, Mishima, DeLillo and stuff like that, when I came across Underground. I went to the store to check it out and saw that this was no ordinary Murakami book. It was non-fiction. I skimmed through-it and read the interview of Eiji Wada's wife. It was so sad. I immediately bought the book and finished it a week later on a backpacking trip. Murakami crafted the questions (especially the ones to the Aum members) so well. At times it can be monotonous, and to undedicated readers, can lose a persons interest pretty easily. Yet it is interesting to see the viewpoint of the victims and the cult members. The beginning is sad and then there is the middle essay which is like a median from dark to darker. Then the almost scary part is at the last part talking to people in Aum and people who are out of it yet still partially believe in the beliefs. It can be entertaining to wonder what the people did after 1999 came and went. Aum Shinrikyo believed that the world would end, or "reset", as someone referred to it, in that year. One person I distinctly remeber is a man (I forgot his name though) who hated life and wanted to kill himself. He said that since the world would end in two years (it was 1997 at the time) he would just wait for it. I think that he commited suicide when the "end" didn't come. I also think that now Aleph (as Aum is known now) is even snaller because of prophecies that didn't come true (i.e Ishikaga Island, Shoko Asahara being the enlightened one and levitating away, and the "end" of the world). This book is probably one of the best non-fiction (if not the best) book I have ever read. Anyone who has even the slightest curiousity in the attacks should read this. Even people who don't even find Japan interesting would like it because this book is from peoples viewpoints and not about a country.
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