Vintage Classics The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle: A special artist edition of Murakami's epic masterpiece

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If you've read this, you know that it's easily Murakami's best work, and a classic of magical realism. Distinctively Japanese and idiosyncratically Murakami, it is also very accessible to Western readers, given Murakami's 20th Century Western pop culture preoccupations. The mysterious tone is what sticks with you long after, but the potboiler suspense keeps the plot propulsive and readable.It must be said that the paper and binding quality on this new 2022 edition isn't the best, but it is perfectly sufficient quality for this price range, especially given how long its been since a hardcover version of the title was in print. Highly recommended!

After leading a just too normal life, still --stagnant, one would say-- the main character of this story leads to the unknown -- he is looking desperately for his wife-- down into the corridors of the unconscious --his unconscious, anybody's unconscious....A light in the dark, this work is a masterpiece that surpasses magical realism: it's got something else. What is that something else that Murakami presents in each book? A profound understanding of the psyche. A great reading experience.

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If I had to sum this book up with one sentence, I'd say this:Nothing, is as it seems.Toru Okada is a normal guy. But when his cat goes missing, and then his wife Kumiko follows shortly thereafter, what at first seems normal suddenly becomes surreal and odd. So odd, that Toru apends time in an abandoned well to sort it all out.In the mean time, he meets a cast of very strange characters: *May Kasahara - a young neighbor girl who thinks about death a lot. She has a very matter-of-fact way of talking and acts as a sounding board for Toru. *Noboru Wataya - the brother of Kumiko. Toru cannot stand him as his political ideals differ from his. He's also a bully when it comes to his sister Kumiko. The lost cat is also named after him, which is odd in and of itself given that Kumiko and Toru really do not like the guy. *Lieutenant Mamiya - an officer who witnessed the brutal death of a another officer. He is scarred over that event and has spent his own time down in a well. He has been tasked with carrying out a request in a will which is what brings him to Toru. *Malta Kano - acts as a medium. Kumiko hires her to help them find their cat. She sees things, but she's not all that clear when she translates it to those who need the information. *Creta Kano - Creta is Malta's sister. She too, has a talent but her talent is unpracticed and involves inhabiting people's minds. She is also called a "prostitute of the mind" and gets to know Toru quite well. *Nutmeg Akasaka - the businesswoman who first sees Toru while observing people in the city. She is attracted to the blue\black mark on his face. A mark that her father also bore many years ago. Later, she makes him a proposition that he finds hard to refuse. *Cinammon Akasaka - the son of Nutmeg. He does not speak but uses a strange form of sign language to communicate. He carries out the wishes of his mother but is exceptionally good at what he does and what he does involves looking out for Toru on many levels. *The Wind-Up Bird - a bird that only certain characters hear. This bird makes a screeching noise and when Toru hears it, he is immediately reminded of a spring and how it needs to be wound in order to keep the world going. If you pay attention while reading, the appearance of the bird can clue you in to what is going on at that point in time.There isn't a right or wrong way to describe this book. The story is simple, but the things that happen within the story beg to be discussed. The personalities of the characters, their history and how they all play their own part in the story is what makes a Murakami book an "experience" more than just a good read. It's walks a crazy fine line between what's normal and what's not and throws in bits and pieces to shake you up and to jolt you back into reality, or what you think is reality. It's the type of book that will have you asking questions for days, but somehow Murakami manages to bring it all together by those last few pages. Not to say that your questions have been fully answered. No, can't say that. But I can say that as a reader, I was satisfied when I turned that last page.Murakami's writing is very accessible and simple to follow. Most first-time readers feel intimidated by what they've heard about him, but the writing is not complex. The meaning behind what is written though, can boggle the mind, but not in a bad way. His books have a palate cleansing effect which I find very pleasing. He challenges you to think outside of the box and if you give in to it, usually you're rewarded with a positive reading experience. Usually. There are those that are completely turned off by the oddness of it, and I understand that too. Murakami is not for everyone but what a reading experience it is!Reading this book was like taking two Benadryls, drinking a couple glasses of wine and then having one heck of a strange dream afterward. You wake, but you don't wake and you sort of like it that way.As with his other novels, this book shares many of the same themes but mostly alienation and loneliness. There are some graphic depictions of sex and rape but not as much as some of his other novels. There is also a particularly gruesome act of violence but it's brief and not drawn out so I found it tolerable although some of the other readers in the read-along found it hard to read.Compared to his other books, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is probably one of my favorites. It's right up there with Kafka on the Shore but I found it much easier to follow than Kafka. It's long. Over 600 pages long but much of it reads very quickly. In the six weeks that we had to finish the book, I think most finished well before the deadline. However, it was maybe 50 pages too long. I understand that two chapters were removed from the English translation and that they had to do with Toru's relationship with Creta. I know it would have made the book longer but I wish I had those chapters now.If you are intrigued and want to give it a try, do so with an open mind and give yourself plenty of time to absorb what you've read. It also doesn't hurt to take a week or two when done to just ponder the story. I found it very hard to focus on other books after finishing Wind-Up.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is a mystery without a true solution. Know that I haven’t spoiled the book for you in any way by saying this. Not only is there no real solution, but also a solution isn’t even the point.The various, rather disparate elements of this story revolve around the central mystery like planets around a black hole. The planets never come together in a neat way, and the the black hole warps time and space so weirdly that relationships between things become flipped, like the merging sides of a Möbius strip. Occasionally, an element becomes absorbed into the mystery, never to be seen again.Take, for instance, the characters Malta and Creta Kano, two strange detective sisters employed to help the main character, Toru, an unemployed legal clerk, find his cat, and then his missing wife. The two sisters become involved not only in his case but also in the minutiae of his life, like the existential consultants in the movie I Heart Huckabees. The two sisters set to work, appearing into his life and disappearing out of it again like ghosts: at the top of a well, at the bottom of a well, at his house, from his living room, in a hotel room, and even in his dreams. Spoiler alert: they never help Toru find anything, at least ostensibly, unless you imagine them working in the background, keeping things moving. Eventually, they never appear again. But the cat shows up. Was that their work? Maybe. Does it ever matter? Not really. It’s not even clear the two women were real.Features of the present story merge with the past, only rearranged slightly, like in a David Lynch movie. An elderly veteran appears to Toru, telling a long war story about how in Mongolia he was forced to jump to the bottom of a deep, dry well to survive, only to be found and saved days later by a fellow soldier with psychic abilities. Eventually, Toru, while searching for his cat and missing his wife, finds a similar dried-up well near his house. What he does next adheres only to dream logic. He climbs to the bottom of the well to ruminate on his problems. Eventually, he too is trapped there for several days, only to find he has the ability to enter from there into a strange, liminal netherworld. He finds himself in a lightless hotel room and meets a menacing presence. As he tries to escape, he bruises his cheek. The bruise becomes like a permanent birthmark. Creta appears and saves him from the well, only to vanish again.After some time, Toru is then recruited by a mysterious wealthy woman to serve as a sort of psychological prostitute. He is blindfolded, and unseen female customers come to kiss his blue birthmark. This somehow alleviates their inner suffering. None of this makes any sense, of course, but you can’t stop reading anyway. The wealthy woman then reveals her own background. She grew up in Japanese-occupied Manchuria, where her father ran a zoo. His zookeeper was a man with the same blue birthmark on his face. The zookeeper was charged with murdering all the large carnivores before the zoo was abandoned by the Japanese army ahead of the advance of the Soviets, then himself died in the war.What is the link between the zookeeper and Toru? Maybe Toru is the zookeeper’s reincarnation. This only hinted at, but never confirmed. Maybe there is no logical connection, but a dreamlike connection that can only be illuminated from afar.Such are the many interlocking enigmas that power the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, part mystery, part romance, part war story, part political thriller, part magical realist fiction. But fantasy and science-fiction nerds beware: The book is relentlessly indifferent to clear explanations and logical resolutions. In order to appreciate the story, you have to embrace the mystery. Or cluster of mysteries.I liked the story and found it haunting and compelling, and in the end, despite any skepticism, I found myself caring about Toru and his missing wife and I was sad to say goodbye to them as I finished the book. There were a few issues I had with the book, though, which I generally have with all the Murakami books I’ve read so far. For one thing, the gore and sex are a bit much.But let’s start with the sex. There’s not a lot of it explicitly in the book, thankfully, but it implicitly permeates the story, usually from a male gaze. All the women are described by their sexual features and how well they look in their clothes, including a 15-year-old girl wearing a bathing suit while sunbathing in her back yard. I don’t care about cultural differences. This comes across as creepy and pedophilic. Also, Creta is seen nude on several occasions and is described as having an impeccable body, and it makes me think: just once in a Murakami novel I’d like to have a female character’s body be described as very normal but her personality as intriguing.Okay, now with the gore. There is a scene where the old veteran tells Toru a war story about how he and his squad are captured by Mongolian and Soviet soldiers who then force him to watch as they flay one of his fellow soldiers to death. The scene goes into extreme detail for several pages and is quite nauseating. Writers are usually told to show and not tell in their writing, but here is one part where I think the story could have done better with more telling and less showing. The scene is well written except for the fact that the author forgets that it’s a story told to Toru by the old veteran rather than to us by the author. Wouldn’t Toru have asked the veteran to spare him the gross details? Wouldn’t the veteran become too disturbed to continue with such detail himself? No, because Murakami is too infatuated with the violence to consider this possibility. This decision comes across as pulpy and sensationalist, causing the scene to cast a distracting stain almost to the middle of the book. You’re so nauseated by the scene that you find it difficult to absorb much else that comes afterward. I don’t think this scene belongs in this book at all, but in a separate book altogether about Japanese wartime experiences. Its shocking luridness contrasts too much against the subtle, murky nuances of the rest of the story.This points to the one way Murakami could improve the book. Remove all the wartime stories and put them into their own proper novel where they belong. The connections between Toru and past wars seem too emotionally far fetched anyway. This new war story book would be even more fascinating than the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. It would directly address the unstated sense of accountability that underlies Japanese sentiment about the two world wars and would be more sincere. This is the story that Murakami really wants to make if he could, just for a moment, pause from writing clever, gimmicky, and self-indulgent surrealist stories about alienation, dreams, sex, fast food, cats, and underage girls.Don’t get me wrong. This is clearly the best novel he’s ever written. It’s quite engaging. But what this also means is that you won’t be missing much if you skip most of the others.