The City and Its Uncertain Walls

“There was no sound whatever, only a silence, like being at the bottom of the sea. I tried clearing my throat once, but it didn’t sound like a throat clearing.”

Haruki Murakami uses frequent similes in the novel to create a picture of the environment the characters interact with. In this example, the author compares the silence to that of the bottom of the sea, an isolated place. This creates the sense that the quiet is not just the absence of loud noises, or voices, but a complete and utter absence of sound.

“A place where the words people used only had their literal meaning, where everything had its rightful place, fixed, unwavering, in a place you could see.”

One of the ways in which the walled-in town is characterized as being a different reality is through its more fantastical elements, like the unicorns, the clock with no hands, and the dreams in the library. It is also characterized by its people, and the ways in which they live. The protagonist notices that the citizens of the walled-in town demonstrate no curiosity and use literal language, never saying anything unnecessary. This lack of secrecy or ambiguity in language foreshadows the unreality of life in the walled-in city, from which everyone’s inner, hidden life—their shadow—has been banished.

“Once we actually met, those unlimited possibilities inevitably were replaced by a single reality. And this must have been hard for you. I could understand what you were trying to say, though I didn’t think that way myself. Possibilities are just that, possibilities and nothing else.”

The protagonist often considers the nature of reality and the possibility that multiple realities can exist. He also meditates on the passage of time and the way it influences him. In this excerpt, he speaks about his girlfriend and their relationship, and how as time passes, the possibilities, or alternate realities of the future, slowly disappear as their moments pass, changing both himself and his girlfriend as their perception of their relationship changes.

“No matter how attractive the other women I slept with, no matter how good-natured the ones I met, it was always that woman’s face that I saw. Seeing her felt like I was walking on top of a cloud. My soul was possessed by that woman, by that ghost.”

The protagonist fails in romance after the disappearance of his teenage girlfriend, because he cannot move on from her. She stays with him, and he cannot help but compare every woman he is with to her. He describes the experience with a simile that compares the memory of her face to the impossible experience of walking on a cloud, suggesting both euphoria and immateriality.

“As my shadow said, the town might be full of made-up stories, the origins of the town itself rife with contradictions. Since this was nothing but an imaginary town you and I had dreamed up over the course of a summer.”

Though it becomes apparent that the protagonist’s teenage girlfriend, in the form he knew her, is not present in the walled-in town, the protagonist remains committed to being there. Even with the town’s contradictions, he stays because it allows him to feel connected to her. He believes that the town is a piece of his consciousness, but one heavily influenced by her. Therefore, being in the town is like being in a world comprised of her legacy.

“In my head, there was a battle going on between reality and unreality. At this moment I was standing right in the interstice between this world and the other world. There was a fierce split between the conscious and the unconscious, and I had to choose where I should belong.”

Throughout The City and Its Uncertain Walls, the protagonist often struggles with distinguishing whether he belongs in reality or unreality. The way he describes it in this moment positions him as standing between the different worlds. This aligns with other language often used by the protagonist, describing his heart as split after the loss of his teenage girlfriend. This helps characterize the protagonist as a man undecided and conflicted in his personal life, making it difficult for him to move forward.

“But how much do we know about the secret, dark labyrinth of a river that flows underneath us, below the solid ground we stand on? How many have actually seen it and, having seen it, could make it back to the other side?”

In this excerpt, the protagonist describes the supposed network of channels under the pool in the walled-in town that leads to the outside world. His comments also question the nature of reality and suggest that too much remains unseen. The language used here positions the walled-in city as a metaphor for the unconscious. By describing the network as a labyrinth, the protagonist creates the view that the path between reality and unreality is complicated and convoluted, making travel between them—between conscious experience and the unconscious mind—difficult.

“But a part of me inside probably didn’t open up to others. It was like there was a line on the ground I didn’t want others to step past. And people sensed that in a subtle way when we’d been together for a long time.”

The protagonist often acknowledges how the disappearance of his teenage girlfriend impacts him on a deeply personal level. In this case, he uses a metaphor to describe his heartbreak as drawing a line between himself and others, behind which he closes himself off to protect himself form making connections he could lose. The description of a line dividing him from others evokes the image of the wall surrounding the walled-in town that keeps everything out, away from the townspeople.

“The river made a pleasant sound, and if I closed my eyes I had the illusion that it was flowing within me. The water, streaming down from the mountains, was clear, and I could see tiny fish swimming here and there.”

Throughout The City and Its Uncertain Walls, the protagonist demonstrates an affinity for rivers, often walking along them or watching them. His perception that the river flows within him connects him to the flow of time. The river continues forward, all day and all night, and to go with it is to be swept up in forces outside of his control. Just as the protagonist views time as unceasing, flowing in one direction, so too does he connect the river to time.

“This was a small town and everyone should have heard about me taking over from Mr. Koyasu as head librarian. The news had to have made the rounds. A newcomer from the city coming here, in this town where few ever came and went, had to arouse the curiosity of the residents.”

Murakami creates subtle connections between the mountainous town the protagonist moves to and the walled-in town. The people of the walled-in town take no notice of newcomers, demonstrating no curiosity toward any changes. In reality, the people in the protagonist’s new town take no notice of him and seem uninterested in knowing him. The protagonist feels the isolation of both towns in their citizen’s apparent disinterest.

“I had a sense of a twist warping, ever so slightly, space and time. The feeling of two things mixing together, as if part of a boundary had collapsed, become vague, with something else mixed in, here and there, with reality.”

The protagonist frequently uses simile and metaphor to describe abstract aspects of his experience. Here, he describes the merging of his two worlds using notably materialistic language: “a twist warping […] space and time […] a boundary collapsed.” These images evoke materials that can be manipulated by force. Because they are tangible images, they can stand in for the intangible phenomena the protagonist is struggling to describe.

“I let out a sigh, rested both hands on the desk, closed my eyes, and listened to the sound of time passing. Though of course I couldn’t hear that sound. All I heard was a log crumbling inside the stove.”

The protagonist often tries to measure time through his senses, and in this case, does so by listening. Though he cannot hear time passing, the sound of logs crumbling in the stove signals that it does. Not only does sound mark one moment from the next, but the sound of the fire, whether it is roaring or dying, can also alert him to how long it burns.

“The newborn, healthy life-that warmth and smile and joyful voice-had been snuffed out in an instant, like a tiny flame in a sudden gust of wind.”

In describing the passing of Mr. Koyasu’s son, Murakami uses a simile to make the loss feel more tragic and severe. The boy’s life is first described with positive, fresh, and light descriptors, before the phrase “snuffed out” is used. This contrast mimics the sudden tragedy of his death. To then compare the boy’s life to a “tiny flame” and his death to a “sudden gust of wind” also reinforces the contrast. The simile describes his passing as being caused by an unstoppable force much larger than himself, creating a sense of helplessness.

“As I walked down the nearly deserted street, I felt like I was no longer the person I am now. As if, for instance, I was seventeen on a clear holiday morning, on my way to see my girlfriend, bouquet in hand…it felt like that. A strange feeling, as if I’d strayed from present reality and wandered into a different time and place.”

The protagonist’s memory often transports him to different times in his life. When he enters an environment that reminds him of another time, his mind and senses bring him back to that past moment. This creates a crisis within him as he feels split between times and places, further complicating his sense of self.

“Earth slowly, steadily, was rotating, time ineluctably moving forward. As if to prove this progress, the birds flitted from branch to branch, letting out an occasional shrill cry. The faint sadness of the winter morning became a transparent cloak wrapping itself lightly around me.”

At various points in the novel, the protagonist feels the weight of sadness around his heart. This feeling often arises at points when the protagonist slows down, stops, and notices time passing. In this instance, he connects the sadness of winter to a cloak. This figurative language creates the sense that while he feels sadness, it is not as crushing as it often is, merely a gentle presence.

“But I imagine that precisely following a set pattern every day must have meant something vital to him. Perhaps it was less the actions themselves or the direction they took him in than the repetition itself that was the point.”

When the protagonist meets M**, he is at first confused by the boy’s repetitive habits. He wonders why the boy commits to the same actions and clothing every day. He considers that it is perhaps the benefit of predictability that M** likes. The more the protagonist considers this, the more he realizes that he himself also sticks to strict routines.

“Deep down inside him, utterly seriously, this sixteen-year-old boy wanted to move to a different realm, rather than continue living in this real world that didn’t (seem to) accept him. I couldn’t help but feel, painfully, how deadly serious he was.”

The protagonist shares a connection with M** in part because of their justifications for going to the walled-in town. The boy looks to escape the world and go to another world where he will be accepted. The protagonist realizes how serious M** is precisely because he needed to escape reality as well. When he leaves his shadow to return to the real world, the protagonist explains that there is nothing left for him in the real world, and that he at least has a purpose in the walled-in town.

“Or was it simply some side episode, a little detour that had nothing to do with the larger flow of things? The larger flow of things-was such a thing even part of my life?”

Once again, the passage of time is associated with water. The protagonist examines the “flow of things” and wonders if there is an overall direction to his life. He views his life as moving downriver, with time being the current and himself travelling on it.

“Those orange flames gave my heart a quiet warmth and sense of peace. Our ancient ancestors must have been like this, deep in a cave, in front of a fire, the flames giving them a sense of calm, at least for the moment knowing they were protected from the piercing cold and the fangs of ferocious animals. On a cold night a flickering reddish fire had the power to summon up a collective memory etched deep into our genetic makeup.”

Though the protagonist often thinks of time and memory in relation to his own experiences, this moment near the fire evokes a collective memory within him. It is a moment in which he recognizes the shared experiences of humans through time. The sense of calm the fire gives him is one he believes is etched into his biological memory, from countless generations using fire as a way to survive and protect themselves against the dark and the dangers that lie within it.

“From deep within my chest an emotion much like sadness, yet somehow different, reached out its tentacles, like a thriving plant. I’d missed that sensation. A part of my heart remained still not fully known to me. A realm that even time cannot reach.”

In Part 2 and Part 3, the protagonist’s heart begins to change. He speaks more of the part of his heart that is blocked off from the rest of him, as well as the new feelings that arise from it. By comparing this new growth to a plant, the protagonist perceives his heart as a growing, developing life form. This simile signifies that he is changing, entering a new stage of his life.

“And that pain, that vivid residual memory, might not disappear. It felt like that. It was like a hot seal, an actual painful mark that made it possible to cross over the border from one world to another. And one that would most likely remain a part of me for the rest of my life.”

Throughout The City and Its Uncertain Walls, the protagonist finds his mind wandering from reality to unreality. Only when he receives the bite on his ear in the dream does he have a more physical connection between the two worlds. The pain in his earlobe not only reminds him of the other world, but also proves to him that his other reality, whether it be in a dream or in the walled-in town, is very real.

“I liked her very much, and I knew she liked me. Of that there was no doubt. In this small town surrounded by mountains we were (probably) both seeking each other. Yet something kept us apart-something impenetrable, something like, for instance, a high brick wall.”

Once again, the imagery of the walled-in town is used to create a connection to the mountainous town in the real world. Both are small towns, surrounded by a barrier: the wall in the walled-in town, and the mountains in the mountainous town. Additionally, the wall is again evoked to describe the lack of connection between the protagonist and the coffee shop woman, further associating it with the heart and love.

“Exactly. The only time that exists in the town is the present. There is no accumulation. Everything is overwritten, renewed. That’s the world we belong to now.”

When Yellow Submarine Boy describes time within the walled-in town, he describes it as not accumulating. He means that every day is the same, and no moment or day builds on the previous one and toward the next. With no accumulation or differentiation, the people cannot grow or develop, making time just as unrealistic as the town itself.