In Japan, Haruki Murakami is known not only as a bestselling and critically acclaimed author but also as a prolific translator of American classics by Raymond Chandler, John Cheever, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Carson McCullers, J.D. Salinger, Truman Capote, Ursula K. Le Guin, and many others. The Waseda International House of Literature, also known as the Haruki Murakami Library, hosts translation workshops, lectures, and a residency program for international translators of Japanese literature—and it’s home to Murakami’s vast archive and substantial jazz LP collection. Here, Murakami discusses the relationship between his translation work and his own writing.
How did you get started in translation?
I grew up in Kobe, and I was very interested in American culture and American literature. When sailors came into port in Kobe, they’d sell the books they’d been reading while at sea. I bought those books in used bookstores—most of them were mysteries or science fiction. Then I found Truman Capote and F. Scott Fitzgerald and I translated some of their prose just for fun. My English grades were mediocre, but I found that I loved to translate English prose into Japanese.
I went to college, I opened a jazz club, and I translated as a hobby. When I became a novelist, I continued translating. Ever since, I’ve cycled between the two—translating and writing my own things.
You’ve translated many authors whose work you admire, but you haven’t translated others—Kurt Vonnegut, Richard Brautigan. Why not those?
They already had good translations, wonderful translations. I read their work in Japanese and I was so impressed. I didn’t have to translate them myself. With The Catcher in the Rye, for instance, there was already a good translation, but it was from the 1960s. The publisher asked me to do a new one—styles change, and with the original text it doesn’t matter as much, but as translations get older, younger people might have difficulty reading in that old style. My translation [from 2003] will get old, too, and someone will need to do a new one.
How is it for you to have your own work translated into English?
When I read the translation, if I find something wrong, I tell the translator. But usually I’m enjoying the translation too much to find mistakes. I write a book, and after maybe two years the translation comes out, and in that time, I’ve forgotten so many things about it. If I enjoy reading the translation, small mistakes aren’t a problem. If the reader enjoys the book, it’s a good translation: that’s my stance. If there are no mistakes, but it’s not easy to read, it’s a bad translation.
What have you gotten out of translating other writers’ work?
Translation is a very close reading—you read line by line. When I was younger, I learned so many things from the writers I admired: good style, how to write a good story. And then I had to find my own style. Ego is very important when I write my own stories, but when I do a translation, I don’t need any ego. I just put my feet in other people’s shoes. That can be a great feeling. It can take time to get the right word, like solving a mathematical problem, but I enjoy taking that time. Writing my own novels requires enormous energy, so I use translation to keep my balance. I’m like Shohei Ohtani—I’m a pitcher and a batter at once.



