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After Dark
After Dark

After Dark
By Haruki Murakami, translated by Jay Rubin

Vintage Canada

191 pp.

I first read After Dark after an insomniac binge of espresso and energy drinks on an oddly chilly summer’s night. If I ever fall asleep, I thought, I would plead to all the gods that I wake up the next morning still rational enough to appreciate this novel with its surreal, dizzying ensemble.

The gods weren’t very merciful. After Dark features Murakami’s signature prose—humble and patient, laced with hyper-metaphors—but lacking in what is his best asset as a writer: story.

In the beginning chapters, the novel follows by way of alien-like narrators the night-time adventure of Mari Asai, a lonesome 19-year old seemingly avoiding going home. The setting is a contemporary Tokyo from midnight until the waking hours of the morning. Mari meets Takahashi, a jazz trombonist, who introduces her to an eccentric hotel manager in a particular crisis. In one of her hotel rooms, a Chinese prostitute was raped and badly brutalized by a sadistic computer programmer. Mari assists the woman with her little knowledge of Mandarin and observes as the hotel manager tips off the sinister member of the Chinese mafia in charge of the prostitute. In Takahashi, Mari finds a new friend who introduces her to a new social circle, one that would transform her unease of life into a waking appreciation of what it really means to eat, breathe, love, bathe, work and sleep.

Sleep is instantly a chilling prospect, and with an atmosphere like a Godard thriller, we realize exactly why. Mari’s lovely twin sister Eri is a troubled model, trapped in a comatose state. Or, as Mari puts it, she “sleeps because she doesn’t want to wake up.” Not only is Eri entirely withdrawn, but she is prey to a certain evil existing in the mirror-world of the present—a Man with No Face—who lurks quietly through the wormhole reality of her television. Later we learn the Man is a product of the night, a possible metaphor of the violence throughout the book, observing only in the shadows as the night progresses into dusk, dusk to dawn.

Murakami skips back and forth between the two sisters, with a narrative style like sentient camera cuts. This technique transforms the reader towards a viewer of a movie, an observer of nature taking place, and with that, we become lost in metaphors instead of nourished with plot.

—Charlotte Yun

Don Cherry’s Hockey Stories and Stuff
By Don Cherry and Al Strachan

Doubleday Canada

240 pp.

Don Cherry’s Hockey Stories and Stuff is 240 pages of disjointed stories all written in Don Cherry’s signature disgruntled English.In the book Cherry recounts—with the aid of ghostwriter Al Strachan—his time as a player coming up through the ranks as a kid and shuttling around in the junior leagues, being a coach in the minor leagues and his days as a broadcaster.

The book follows no chronology—a story about his last game with the Bruins is followed by an earlier story about him languishing in the minors and then the narrative jumps to Cherry’s days as a commentator before reaching back and reminiscing about his father. It’s rambling and sloppy—but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The book is vintage Cherry: it’s like reading Coach’s Corner for a few hours. Better still, this book is just like Cherry wanted it to be: a book where it would seem “just like we were sittin’ down, tellin’ stories in [his] own language.”

The book translates Cherry’s typical loudmouth style, in all its hilarity and brash offensiveness, from his show to page. For example, Cherry’s penchant for mocking the French-Canadians who played under him, such as Jean Ratelle, is written in a mock-French accent. Cherry also hates on institutions—he refers to Peter Mansbridge as Peter Mansfred.

His stories are no-holds-barred as he openly calls out players and unapologetically recounts smashing players’ faces in. The effect is that you get a glimpse into the world of Don Cherry in all its beer-goggled clarity, which is great if this is something you’re so inclined to pursue.

Although it can be hard to follow at times—you have to re-read some of the anecdotes every now and then because he does indeed fly off on wild tangents—it is easily a must have for Cherry fans who are looking to put down the gloves and pick up a book.

—Amrit Ahluwalia

All final editorial decisions are made by the Editor(s)-in-Chief and/or the Managing Editor. Authors should not be contacted, targeted, or harassed under any circumstances. If you have any grievances with this article, please direct your comments to journal_editors@ams.queensu.ca.

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