If Kafka actually has an Oedipus complex, I can understand his sexual desire but I don’t believe that he has it. Then, let’s add the fact that said adult may be the teenager’s own mother. Honestly, it doesn’t matter if Kafka was possessed by the ghosts of Miss Saeki’s past, it doesn’t matter if real 15-year-olds do have sex nowadays (or that they know about it), I don’t like the fact that a teenager who is not of legal age, is fornicating with an adult who is his senior by a few decades. So, yeah, it was disgusting picturing 15-year-old Kafka doing the dirty with 50-something-year-old Miss Saeki. I mean, I’m not the only one who pictures stories as though they’re happening right in front of me, right? Words don’t come to life by just being words, imagination helps. Seriously, this book would’ve fared better without the sex scenes. “Literature is all, or mostly, about sex.” There were a lot of unnecessary parts (scenes and descriptions) in this book and whenever I come upon Kafka having sex with Miss Saeki, I can’t help but remember the quote by Anthony Burgess: Kafka on the Shore is my first Haruki Murakami book and jeez Louise, I’ve never been so confused in my life. **I wrote this part while I was still at page 380, just to see how much difference there’ll be in opinions once I’ve actually completely reading the book.** The nature of this review is also different from the ones I’ve done before.
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