This book is not my favorite among his works, but it is still an enjoyable read.

I cannot quite put my finger on what it was that made it less than completely satisfying. Other than a relative lack of cohesion (even though that hasn't prevented other books from being delightful), there was just something that left me a bit underwhelmed.

I think the reason for this is simply that not every book by an author I like will knock my socks off. And I'm becoming more accepting of that fact.

After all, every book is unique, and just because one doesn't meet my highest expectations doesn't mean it's a bad book. It's all part of the reading experience, and I'm learning to appreciate the variety and diversity of books, even if they don't always live up to my initial hopes.

Overall, while this book may not be my absolute favorite, it still has its merits and I'm glad I took the time to read it.

Richard Brautigan has a unique talent for making short stories feel like thrilling adventures. In fact, the shorter the story, the more captivating it often is. Once his stories exceed two pages, they tend to lose a bit of their sparkle and become a touch dull. However, those that are confined to a page or less are truly remarkable.

I find myself constantly returning to these stories in my mind. I can't help but share them with anyone who is willing to listen. And if they show even the slightest hint of interest, I immediately reach for the story about umbrellas. It is, without a doubt, my absolute favorite.

Brautigan's writing is filled with golden bits that are both profound and whimsical. For example, he writes, "By the time the third year was barely in progress he realized fully that nothing was happening. Then he started to think about it." This simple yet powerful sentence captures the essence of a moment of realization.

Another gem is, "Sometimes compared to the passion of art, human love affairs are studies in ice, like the skeleton of a refrigerator lying on its side near the North Pole." This vivid and unexpected comparison adds a touch of magic to his words.

And who could forget, "There was something dead in my heart. I tried to figure out what it was by the strength of the smell. I knew that it was not a lion or a sheep or a dog. Using logical deduction, I came to the conclusion that it was a mouse. I had a dead mouse in my heart." This strange and wonderful passage is a prime example of Brautigan's ability to create a world that is both familiar and completely unique.

Finally, "I had never cooked spaghetti before with eels for company. The eels swam in circles like science-fiction children of spaghetti." This sentence is both humorous and imaginative, making it a joy to read.

Overall, Brautigan's short stories are a delight. They are filled with unexpected twists and turns, and his writing is both beautiful and thought-provoking. Whether you're a fan of short stories or just looking for something new to read, I highly recommend giving his work a try.

Perfect. It is as sweet as sitting and having a thousand drinks with your bestie. This feeling is truly indescribable. When you are with your best friend, time seems to stand still. You can share everything, from the smallest details of your daily life to the biggest dreams in your heart. The conversations flow freely, and there is always a smile on your face. Having a thousand drinks together is not just about the alcohol; it is about the bond that you share. It is about the memories that you create and the moments that you will cherish forever. Whether it is a quiet night in or a wild party, being with your bestie makes everything perfect.

Sushi and pancakes do mix.

Back when I was a teenager, I embarked on a remarkable journey across the vast Pacific Ocean to Japan aboard the "Hikawa Maru". That passenger ship was a survivor, the only one of its fleet to make it through the turmoil of World War II. It was a sight to behold, with rivets covering every inch, like a celestial Milky Way of metal.

The morning the ship arrived in Yokohama harbor, I was greeted by the majestic sight of Mt. Fuji soaring into the sky. The air was filled with the fresh scent of a new adventure. Just like Columbus, I had sailed across the ocean and discovered a new world, only my America was Japan.

Some years later, after I had mastered the Japanese language and become an avid kabuki fan, I married a woman from India. Together with another Indian lady who studied Physics, we embarked on a long drive across Montana, from west to east. It was a journey that tested our patience and nerves.

I didn't particularly like the metal crosses standing beside the roads. They served as a reminder that the people in Montana had a tendency to drive a little too recklessly for my taste. Besides, being Jewish, I had no desire to end up as a cross on a lonely road in Montana.

But once, as we were speeding along at around 70 mph on a deserted stretch of highway, a car full of Indian teenagers suddenly swerved across the road right in front of us and into the other lane. I missed them by a hair's breadth. In that split-second, I looked into the eyes of the kid at the wheel. He was scared out of his wits, completely out of control.

There could have been a disastrous collision there, a close encounter of the worst kind. Jews, Hindus, and Native Americans, all potentially ending up on one big cross with many little branches, like a ghastly menorah. But somehow, we all managed to survive and continue with our lives.

That's my Tokyo-Montana express story.

This volume of Brautigan's work is filled with countless little gems. There's a 50-word story called "Cold Kingdom Enterprise" about a knight who had only 50 words left to live. There are stories from various locations, including Japan, Montana, California, Arizona, Texas, and even Beirut.

I firmly believe that "Another Texas Ghost Story" is one of the great American short stories. Brautigan's tales are a unique blend of the ordinary and the extraordinary. He buys humidifiers, returns burned-out light bulbs that didn't meet his expectations, scorns pretentious popcorn labels, catches fish, and admires Japanese women.

There are tales of searching for a $3 tire chain in the snow and tales of a dead Canadian airman's former girlfriend. He wonders why his friend is always home to answer the phone. He even has the audacity to write a story on "werewolf raspberries" - something few authors would dare to attempt.

Every time his sad humor gets to you, his wit and remarkable imagination touch you in a way that few other writers can. What more can I say? Although in this volume he may have been showing signs of growing tired and a few stories may not be up to his usual high standard, you can still experience the vintage Brautigan charm in THE TOKYO-MONTANA EXPRESS.

If you're a fan, you simply can't afford to miss this one. And if you've never read his work before - well, let's just say you're in for a treat. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more.

I have a rather unique experience when it comes to rating this book. On one hand, I feel like giving it 1 star because there are certain aspects that really didn't meet my expectations. Maybe the plot was a bit convoluted or the characters weren't as well-developed as I would have liked.

On the other hand, there are also some redeeming qualities that make me want to give it 5 stars. Perhaps the writing style was engaging or the story had some truly thought-provoking moments.

In the end, I decided to give it a 3. It's a compromise between my two conflicting feelings. These days of rating books seem strange indeed, as it's not always easy to simply assign a single number to represent our complex thoughts and emotions about a particular work.

But I guess that's the beauty of literature, it can evoke such a wide range of responses from different readers. And even though my rating might not be the highest or the lowest, it still reflects my own personal experience with the book.

There are still glimpses of the whimsy that Brautigan wove in his earlier works. However, there's also a pall of despair that looms large, a melancholy that casts a shadow over much of this book. It's a fortunate thing that this darkness is broken from time to time. Otherwise, the unrelenting sadness, combined with the knowledge of how Brautigan himself ended, would make this too sad to bear. It's almost like staring at the blinking light of a carpet store at midnight in a snowstorm, as described in one story. The contrast between the fleeting moments of light and the overall sense of gloom creates a powerful and poignant reading experience.

I read this book in one go, like one big through-the-nose inhalation.

It hurt at times: running out of oxygen, seeing spots. I wondered "why?" but kept turning the pages.

I shook my head and my eyes watered, blurred by the simplicity and the sort of hard-edged truth that only Brautigan can access so quietly.

Always a little confused, I blacked out at the end and woke up with a nose bleed.

Something had happened... but what exactly? It was as if the story had taken hold of me, pulling me in deeper and deeper with each sentence.

The words seemed to dance on the page, creating a vivid and strange world that I couldn't quite escape.

I was left with a sense of unease and wonder, not sure what to make of it all.

But one thing was certain: this book had made an impact on me, and I would not forget it anytime soon.

This is the second book I read along with Kurtaj. At the end of the book, I thought, "If Brautigan doesn't commit suicide, who will?" The ability to empathize can be a curse for some people, and this book gives signals about the author's end long before. I was very impressed by Brautigan's imagination, his attention to detail, and even his use of package labels to extract meaning and question life.

Brautigan's writing style is unique and engaging. His stories are filled with strange and wonderful characters and situations that keep the reader hooked from beginning to end. In this book, he explores themes such as love, loss, and the meaning of life in a way that is both profound and accessible.

Overall, I would highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys reading fiction that is both thought-provoking and entertaining. It is a testament to Brautigan's talent as a writer and a must-read for fans of his work.

The translation and compilation of this book really took me aback.

Each part of the book is approximately one page, but maybe one day it will engage your mind.

I didn't establish any connection with some parts at all, and I didn't even realize what it meant. But I guess the problem lies in the translation. (The translation is really bad. It's unbelievable that they printed something like this with all these mistakes and didn't even correct them!)

I hope to have a chance to read it again in the future and read the English text of the book.

This book seems to have some issues with its translation, which makes it a bit difficult to understand in certain parts. However, I still have some hope that upon a second reading, especially of the original English text, I might be able to gain a better understanding and appreciation of its content. Despite the current shortcomings, I believe there could be some valuable ideas or stories hidden within the book that are worth exploring. Maybe with a more accurate translation or a closer examination of the original, I can uncover those gems and have a more fulfilling reading experience.

Tokyo Montana Express is a captivating collection of extremely short stories.

In these tales, Brautigan showcases his remarkable intelligence and profound insight by observing life. He effortlessly transitions from the tiniest details to the vast cosmic levels, and seamlessly moves between his vivid imagination and the real world.

Brautigan's writing style is so unassuming and down-to-earth that one might easily overlook the hidden depth and wisdom within his prose. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes evident that his work is filled with profound meaning.

I firmly believe that his greatest contribution to humanity lies in his extraordinary ability to perceive wonder in the simplest of moments. If only we could all learn to view the world through his eyes more frequently, we would无疑 become better individuals, capable of finding beauty and significance in the most ordinary aspects of our lives.

I bought this book on the recommendation of a bookseller in order to get acquainted with this modern post style.

Actually, it wasn't my style. The stories it had conveyed a good feeling, but most of it was not understandable to me. It was such that at the end of the story, I didn't understand what had happened and what kind of feeling should be created.

I think maybe because I really like classic things and the goal and plot of the story are important to me.

If the story, goal, etc. are not very fixed, maybe you can understand it and you will really like it because it is a popular book.

But well, the modern post style notebook is closed for me for now. Maybe I will do another test again later.

Raymond Carver is a writer who cannot be separated from his works. Everything he writes is, in fact, a part of himself.

His stories, whether he intends it or not - at least for me - are poems.

"A Train in Montana" has an episodic structure and deals with themes such as loneliness, vulnerability, life, and death. All these pieces are actually testimonials offered to humanity. He straddles between Japanese and American cultures and brings forth narratives from both.

Carver's stories emerge from the depths of the human soul, without any pretense or judgment about his true nature. He does not write to reach an absolute conclusion about humanity, but rather only presents humans through their hardships and uncertainties.

His works offer a raw and unfiltered look at the human condition, making us reflect on our own lives and experiences.

Carver's writing style is简洁 and powerful, yet full of depth and emotion. It is this unique combination that makes his stories so engaging and unforgettable.

Overall, Raymond Carver is a master of the short story form, and his works will continue to be studied and admired for years to come.