Happy Monday, dear readers.
Or rather, just Monday.
Mondays are a bite. I don't care for 'em. So I'll take the opportunity to flip it on its head. Like I promised when I resumed writing after the honeymoon, I'm doing more themed weeks here on the blog. Video Game Week went pretty well, and I have something lined up for October that I'm really excited for. In the mean time, starting today it's officially Book Worm Week! In a bold attempt at breaking my own conventions and exposing my own limited comprehension skills I'm going to spend the week highlighting books that are fantastic, underrated or fantastically underrated. So where do we start? Instead of easing in to the week, let's go full-bore: The Windup Bird Chronicle.
This book is heavy, both in the figurative and literal sense. It functions as a doorstop as well as a dense, symbolic text about the author's search for identity in post-World War II Japan. The post-modern work of celebrated Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami, The Windup Bird Chronicle tells the tale of a young man named Toru Okada as he searches for things gone missing: first his cat, then his wife, then his sense of self, both real and perceived. But upon reading the book it becomes apparent its' actually about much more than that. The book is a heavily symbolic examination of identity and loss in a world with which I am only passingly familiar. As Okada begins a search for his cat, his wife introduces a sort of psychic woman named Malta Kano, who has an obsession over water and flow in the lives of her clients. Her sister, Creta Kano, also displays a sort of clairvoyance. The manner in which these characters are connected slowly is brought into focus throughout the first third of the book, until it becomes clear that for better or worse, they are drawn together to make sense of the world around them.
Okada's brother-in-law, Nobroru Wataya, is the central figure in the book, serving as both motivation, plot mechanism and antagonist. His character is, by its very nature, murky and ominous, ill defined. His presence is one that fills the other characters with dread and loathing, though they struggle to comprehend just why that is. Murakami has done an incredible thing in creating this character, who eludes the reader's grasp yet exudes an air of malice and otherworldliness, even when speaking quite simply and bluntly about his motivations. It's fascinating to watch him come to life.
The book is, indeed, a chronicle - it works both in chapters and as a larger, arching tome. The manner in which the plot meanders and segues into other ideas is bit serpentine and unpredictable. At times it feels like entirely different books and plots are overlapping with the central themes Murakami presents. That's the thing about this book - it's incredibly hard to describe. While I've mentioned the basic plot and characters, there are vignettes of other tales and divergent paths all over the place. Okada meets a variety of characters, all having distinct and whole lives that figure in - an old soldier from Japan's failed invasion of China who recounts the horrible things he witnessed in Mongolia and Russian Labor camps. A designer and holistic healer named Nutmeg Akasaka whose guidance is central in later plot developments. Okada's neighbor, the morbidly obsessed May Kasahara, actually leaves the story, only to appear in a series of letters to the protagonist through the remainder of the book. Like I previously stated - The Windup Bird Chronicle is a dense complicated book.
I should say, though, that despite the complex nature of the book, I've adored it through multiple readings. The first time I made my way through it, I was admittedly confused by the events and the (at times) disconnected nature of syntax; it felt like while I understood the literal language, there were sub textual things that were lost on me. Upon further readings of the book, however, it became much clearer that I was reading too deep into the text. Things that were originally murky became much more simple and straight forward on a second pass. What also became much clearer was the nuanced, interconnected nature of the plot. Where my first pass through the text took over a month with me scratching my head at seemingly unrelated events, my second time through took only days, with the plot becoming so much more cohesive. The manner in which Murakami ties in his characters with overlapping themes and repeated motifs is breathtaking in their beauty and scope. Once again at the end of the book, I found myself asking how it all tied together. In just a few short pages and a handful of developments, the plot's central essences is laid bare, elegant in its simplicity but masterfully played out by the author.
It's about a man searching for things he's lost, but it's also so much more than that. If you have any patience whatsoever for a fantastical, strange text, I would emphatically recommend The Windup Bird Chronicle. To fully describe it would rob it of the journey it presents - you simply must read it to experience what Murakmi has created. So begins Book Worm Week! I'll see you tomorrow for more literary adventures.
Or rather, just Monday.
Mondays are a bite. I don't care for 'em. So I'll take the opportunity to flip it on its head. Like I promised when I resumed writing after the honeymoon, I'm doing more themed weeks here on the blog. Video Game Week went pretty well, and I have something lined up for October that I'm really excited for. In the mean time, starting today it's officially Book Worm Week! In a bold attempt at breaking my own conventions and exposing my own limited comprehension skills I'm going to spend the week highlighting books that are fantastic, underrated or fantastically underrated. So where do we start? Instead of easing in to the week, let's go full-bore: The Windup Bird Chronicle.
The book is, indeed, a chronicle - it works both in chapters and as a larger, arching tome. The manner in which the plot meanders and segues into other ideas is bit serpentine and unpredictable. At times it feels like entirely different books and plots are overlapping with the central themes Murakami presents. That's the thing about this book - it's incredibly hard to describe. While I've mentioned the basic plot and characters, there are vignettes of other tales and divergent paths all over the place. Okada meets a variety of characters, all having distinct and whole lives that figure in - an old soldier from Japan's failed invasion of China who recounts the horrible things he witnessed in Mongolia and Russian Labor camps. A designer and holistic healer named Nutmeg Akasaka whose guidance is central in later plot developments. Okada's neighbor, the morbidly obsessed May Kasahara, actually leaves the story, only to appear in a series of letters to the protagonist through the remainder of the book. Like I previously stated - The Windup Bird Chronicle is a dense complicated book.
