Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

I chose Haruki Murakami as one of my authors after a recommendation from a relative. I had been told to expect existentialism and a good amount of surrealism. This book cotains a good dosage of the former. Without spoiling the plot to whomever reads this blog, the book begins with the eponymous Tsukuru Tazaki who is one of a group of five friends. Tsukuru's name is the only one in the group which lacks reference to colour, hence the title.
Though the group is intensely close, rarely socialising without all five members present Tsukuru has a slither of doubt about his lack of colouration.
One day his friends break off all contact and refuse to see Tsukuru, this leads down a path of suicidal contemplation and existentialist woe.
Years later he is prompted by his current girl friend to seek out the reason why the group cast him out…

SPOILERS AHEAD

Critics of the book have complained that 'nothing happens' in the book, or that the prose is 'wooden'.
I would disagree with the former, plenty occurs in the book, sure there's a lack of resolution, but apparently this is intentional as Murakami explains; 'if the very important secret is not solved, then readers will be frustrated. That is not what I want. But if a certain kind of secret stays secret, it's a very sound curiosity. I think readers need it.'

Essentially, Murakami does not intend to give readers a clean resolution, hoping that the average reader will enjoy the mystery. Similar-ish to how X-Files was great until the writers eventually decided that indeed, the aliens were real and their intention was the invasion of earth. 

Answering the equation removes the pleasure of speculation in the mind of the viewer/reader. 

Although there is an exception with thrillers and crime drama, this is because they have a set text to which they comply to: death/transgression -> investigation -> clues -> interrogation -> accusation -> conflict//arrest.

The audience is familiar with this text and enjoys the drama created by the initial mystery, knowing that ultimately there is an answer.

Murakami answers some questions, but prompts others:

.Was the vision of Haida real?

.Where did Haida go?

.What did the erotic dreams mean?

.What was in the pianists bag?

.Did the pianist pass his aura-seeing powers to Haruki's father?

.Who raped Shiro?

.Did Tsukuru 

.Who murdered Shiro?

.Did Sara choose Tsukuru over the 'other man'?

Life doesn't always have answers, so I'll side with Murakami on this one.

In terms of a wooden prose… how can we be sure this isn't a fault of translation? It might

 even be positively poetic in Japanese. Otherwise, what if it really is wooden? I assume translators 

but a lot of hard work into conveying the tone of foreign language, so perhaps this example of Murakami's prose is lacking something?

I am likely too biased to make a judgement, since the book I read previously to Colourless Tsukuru was Heller's Catch 22, which was the most vibrant and hilarious book I have ever had the pleasure to read.

Over-all is was a quick weekend book which I read in the garden. I mostly enjoyed it once the pace picked up. I had expected a small twist at the end of the book but I am not absolutely outraged at the lack of resolution.