There is something so intricate, so fragile about Haruki Murakami – words crumble before eyes, breaking and shattering as the realization of their implication hits us. He is perhaps the author who introduced us to the bursting possibility of Japanese writing, teleporting us with him into a world made by delicate words and hidden, but profoundly disturbing feelings.
Whether you picked up Murakami during your formative years or later on in life, the writer has left an impression on us all. With him we have cried and understood the true depth of the moving power of literature.
Which book by the Japanese author do you think was the pinnacle of his writing, the peak of his genius?