The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

I read my first Murakami novel, Norwegian Wood, probably 15 years ago and I absolutely loved it. I think it just captured a sort of uncertain adolescent perspective that really resonated with me as a young college kid at the time. I've since read more from him trying to chase that feeling again, but so far nothing has come even close.

The Wind-up Bird Chronicle was one that I've heard mentioned a lot as being a favorite of many people, so I was excited to check it out. Sadly, this is yet another of his that just doesn't work for me.

There is still some great stuff here. There's some quality to Murakami's writing, and Jay Rubin's translation work, that is very pleasing to me. It's a bit dreamlike, a bit of a steam of conscience, and it just flows in a way that I feel along for the ride. There are a few sections of this book where a character tells stories of his time in the second World War that are gripping and harrowing. There are some scenes of genuine emotion and confusion from the narrator that I found to be very effective.

But generally I just found myself lost and disinterested. Much of the narrative seems to be just on the border of reality, it plays out as if in a dream. The way Murakami writes about sex is awkward and off-putting. Characters behave in difficult to understand ways and it's hard to put any stake into their actions. I'm just not sure what to takeaway from this book.

I think I'll take a bit of a break from Murakami for a bit. Maybe I'll try to read Norwegian Wood again to see if it is actually as good as my memory of it.

I put the book down and had no idea what had happened during the last 600+ pages. This is not to say that I didn't enjoy it a lot - I enjoyed it quite a bit - just don't ask me to describe or explain anything because it will sound exactly like when someone describes a dream (in other words, disjointed nonsense). Having said all that, I couldn't NOT finish the book. It was like the book was a force compelling me to keep reading it. And I'm glad I did keep reading because even though I don't understand what it was all about, it kept me entertained.

This was a like a long extended dream. The kind you have at 4am. The kind that wake you up and wonder - how could it be so vivid and SO absurd? You remember parts of it like it really happened and other parts you just cannot recollect no matter how hard you try.

Yep, this was just a dream. And I'm sure it'll be different when I read it again. And that I will.

“The light shines into the act of life for only the briefest moment - perhaps only a matter of seconds. Once it is gone and one has failed to grasp its offered revelation, there is no second chance. One may have to live the rest of one's life in hopeless depths of loneliness and remorse. In that twilight world, one can no longer look forward to anything. All that such a person holds in his hands is the withered corpse of what should have been.”