
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami
I am admitting something shameful as a book lover: I just don’t get postmodern literature. It is not for me. I don’t mind looking at postmodern art and processing it, but investing time in a novel that is very long and feeling like I did not get much out of it makes me slightly frustrated. I believe in art for art’s sake, but I suppose only if it does not take a great deal of my time.
That said, I was not as enamored of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicleas I’d hoped to be. It’s not that I dislike books that aren’t linear, or that are extremely confusing. I can, but unfortunately this Murakami was not up my alley. I enjoyed all the different stories and pieces: the snippets of Japanese history were fascinating, the setting of modern Japan transported me there, the dream sequences were cool and spooky, flirtatious May Kasahara was funny, the Kano sisters were strange, the quest for the missing cat and Kumiko grabbed me…I think I would have liked this book as a series of short stories, but as a working novel, I missed the point. Sorry, fans. I’ll try Norweigan Wood.
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