A beautifully illustrated gift edition of the internationally bestselling author's meditation on memory and family.

'Even now, I can relive the shared puzzlement of that summer day when we rode together on his bike to the beach at Koroen to abandon a striped cat, a cat that totally got the better of us...'

In this meditation on memory and what makes us who we are, Haruki Murakami recalls his relationship with his father - the son of a priest who might have become a priest himself had a clerical error not sent him to fight in the Second World War. Murakami's father wrote accomplished haiku and eventually became a teacher, but as Haruki grew older they found they had less and less in common. They went on to be estranged for twenty years, only reconciling on his father's deathbed.

This haunting personal essay is a reflection on what it means to be a father and what it means to be a son - on what it means to be loved and to be abandoned - and a meditation on a particular era of Japanese history, through the aftermath of the Second World War and on into the present. It is a beautiful short work of family history from one of the world's most beloved, iconic writers.

'The world's most popular cult novelist' Observer

'A master storyteller' Sunday Times