The Wind-up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami: A review

Haruki Murakami is a highly acclaimed writer of fiction and I have read and enjoyed books by him before, books such as Killing Commendatore in 2019 and Kafka on the Shore in 2017. I had had this one in my reading queue for a while and kept putting off reading it because it is over 600 pages long and I didn't want to commit myself to the time and effort it would take. But finally, it was time to just bite the bullet and get on with it. I had actually looked forward to reading it and anticipated a challenging but ultimately enjoyable reading experience. That is not the experience that I had.

I'm not sure how Murakami envisioned this book. Did he mean it as a fairy tale? A detective story? Science fiction? A bit of all three or maybe something else? In the end, after 600+ pages I just couldn't decide.

In addition to all the above, the author gives us a bit of World War II and post-World War II Japanese history and examines Japanese guilt in all of this. It is a very heavy load for a book of fiction to have to carry. In the final analysis, it was too much and the narrative collapsed under the weight.

The protagonist of the story is Toru Okada. He had worked as a kind of general factotum at a Tokyo law firm, but he had recently quit his job. After that, his cat disappears and while he is out looking for it, he runs into all kinds of bizarre events. Then his wife disappears as well, leaving without a word, and he has to reassess their life together and try to figure out what went wrong. Toru Okada doesn't have a clue.

As he searches for his wife and his cat, Toru encounters a series of strange people. Though seemingly unconnected, as the story unfolds, we learn that in fact there are weird coincidences that link them. The writer uses these associations to build the plot and subplots. Oh, so many subplots! I had the sense that I was wading through tall grass that I couldn't see over. Is that what Murakami intended for his readers?

It seems that perhaps the author really did envisage this as a detective story because he drops a copious number of red herrings all through the plot. The world that he describes is a very mysterious place, one that seems to shift back and forth between reality and fantasy.

And did I mention that when the world is too much with him, Toru climbs to the bottom of a well and sits there in the dark to consider things? He spent quite a lot of time in that well and I felt just as much in the dark as he was.

I confess I looked at the reviews and ratings of this book on Goodreads to get a sense of what my fellow readers thought. I saw a lot of five-star and four-star ratings and glowing reviews of what a terrific book it was. All I can say is they must have read a different book than I did.

My rating: 1 of 5 stars

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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