Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami Read Free Book Online Page A

entrance a young man is sitting behind a counter where you check your bags. I slough off my backpack, then take off my sunglasses and cap.
    "Is this your first visit?" he asks me in a relaxed, quiet voice. It's slightly high-pitched, but smooth and soothing.
    I nod, but the words don't come. The question takes me by surprise and makes me kind of tense.
    A long, freshly sharpened pencil between his fingers, the young man gazes intently at my face for a while. The pencil is yellow, with an eraser at the end. The man's face is on the small side, his features regular. Pretty, rather than handsome, might describe him best. He's wearing a button-down white cotton shirt and olive green chinos, with not a single wrinkle on either. When he looks down his longish hair falls over his brow, and occasionally he notices this and fingers it back. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, revealing slender white wrists. Delicately framed glasses nicely complement his features. The small plastic name tag pinned to his chest says Oshima. Not exactly the type of librarian I'm used to.
    "Feel free to use the stacks," he tells me, "and if you find a book you'd like to read, just bring it to the reading room. Rare books have a red seal on them, and for those you'll need to fill out a request card. Over there to the right is the reference room.
    There's a card index and a computer you can use to search for material. We don't allow any books to be checked out. We don't carry any magazines or newspapers. No cameras are allowed. And neither is making copies of anything. All food and beverages should be consumed outside on the benches. And we close at five." He lays his pencil on the desk and adds, "Are you in high school?"
    "Yes, I am," I say after taking a deep breath.
    "This library is a little different from the ones you're probably used to," he says.
    "We specialize in certain genres of books, mainly old books by tanka and haiku poets.

    Naturally, we have a selection of general books as well. Most of the people who ride the train all the way out here are doing research in those fields. No one comes here to read the latest Stephen King novel. We might get the occasional graduate student, but very seldom someone your age. So—are you researching tanka or haiku, then?"
    "No," I answer.
    "That's what I thought."
    "Is it still okay for me to use the library?" I ask timidly, trying to keep my voice from cracking.
    "Of course." He smiles and places both hands on the desk. "This is a library, and anybody who wants to read is welcome. This can be our little secret, but I'm not particularly fond of tanka or haiku myself."
    "It's a really beautiful building," I say.
    He nods. "The Komura family's been a major sake producer since the Edo period," he explains, "and the previous head of the family was quite a bibliophile, nationally famous for scouring the country in search of books. His father was himself a tanka poet, and many writers used to stop by here when they came to Shikoku.
    Wakayama Bokusui, for instance, or Ishikawa Takuboku, and Shiga Naoya. Some of them must have found it quite comfortable here, because they stayed a long time. All in all, the family spared no expense when it came to the literary arts. What usually happens with a family like that is eventually a descendant squanders the inheritance, but fortunately the Komuras avoided that fate. They enjoyed their hobby, in its place, but made sure the family business did well."
    "So they were rich," I say, stating the obvious.
    "Very much so." His lips curve ever so slightly. "They aren't as rich now as they were before the war, but they're still pretty wealthy. Which is why they can maintain such a wonderful library. Of course making it a foundation helps lower their inheritance tax, but that's another story. If you're really interested in this building I suggest you take the little tour at two. It's only once a week, on Tuesdays, which happens to be today.
    There's a rather unique collection of