I walked to the neighborhood library this evening, and picked up Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami. It is the first novel I’ve read in a very long time, and Brett and I are reading it together. After the first few chapters, I’ve already been reminded why I spent entire Saturdays holed up in my room as a child, why I loved being able to go to the library during school.
Though the jacket on the right is the same as the one I have, I love, of course, the black cat on the latter one. A Japanese Kater Mikesch, perhaps? (Mikesch, the name of my parents’ cat and the first truly important cat in my life, takes his name from a Czech fable similar to Puss in Boots. He is very clever, walks on his hind legs, talks, and is even so good at Math that he proceeds to tell his young friend that he doesn’t understand why children think Math is so hard, for, clearly, 1+1=11.)