1.5/5

What the f*** did I just waste a week of my life reading? Why couldn't I stop? Why was I enthralled? What was lost in translation? I felt like I was stuck in a dream but couldn't wake up. I've never so willingly subjected myself to crazy sh*t before. Something kept me reading, likely the philosophy and the mood/environment descriptions taking on characterizations all their own, but that's where the praise stops. It stops HARD.

I could not recommend this book to anybody, ever. It was "okay". A two star. I gave it and extra 1/2 star for rediculous originality mashing reality with bat-sh*t crazy fantasy.

Read if you like to wrack your brain with subtle hints, Japanese history, liquor, cigarettes, non-sense dialogue and lazy, unmotivated protagonists who rarely exhibit rage, confusion, or doubt given the irrational and insane things occuring in the world around him.

No amount, I mean no amount of spirituality or literary beauty can save this one. This was barely fun to read and is frustrating as all hell. How this book can be given above a 3.5 staggers me, and all the 5 reviewers are literary elitist that want to be in some sort of "I get it" club, like since I don't appriciate his crazy sh*t, I'm uncultured or incapable of higher thought. No matter the language this novel is in, no matter who describes their opinions and interpretations to me, I will never change my star rating for this book. It's a book that depends entirely on the readers interpretations. Only certain things are "fact" in this brain-pounding novel, and besides the ideas or reinvention of one's self, people can make up any reasonings and answers for this creative writing experiment and support whatever arguments they want. You can be right, you can't be wrong. You can only be mind-fu*ked.

You can't compare the two, but Norwegian Wood by Murakami runs literary, thematic, and emotionally-statisfying circles around "A Wild Sheep Chase." I need a brandy like the Sheep Man.

Fu*k this book.

A classic Murakami, strange and whimsical. Worth reading, maybe not as an introduction into the author's oeuvre.

I don't think I will ever think about sheep the same way again.

Note: None of the characters in this novel have names; they are mutable characters, disposable and fleeting— to readers and to each other.

Anyone of them could be you.

A Wild Sheep Chase is a story about searching for purpose, taking the good things you have for granted, not living up to your potential, the dangers of power….

and yes, sheep. Lots and lots of sheep. And ears.

It is difficult to define the genre, or even summarize the plot. So much happens in A Wild Sheep Chase, and yet it happens at a snails pace.

Essentially our unnamed narrator gets divorced, gets a new girlfriend with powerful ears, and stumbles his way into an otherworldly sheep enterprise. Through no design of his own, the unnamed narrator is thrust into a quest to find a sheep that should not exist with a star on its' back. This sheep has the power to enter people and exists like a kind of mutually beneficial parasite...it uses its' human host to gain power in the human world, and the human benefits by this power. But when it is done with its' host, it leaves them in a state of frustrated impotence.

It is a good metaphor for the allure and danger of power, as well as the loss of identity that can happen when power or purpose is lost.

You could call this a detective novel, you could call it a coming of age novel from the perspective of a man past his prime, you could call it a mystery, you could also call it a philosophical examination of post-war japan's generation/psyche. You can also definitely call it magical realism.

I've now read Murakami's first three works. Of Hear The Wind Sing, Pinball,1973, and A Wild Sheep Chase, A Wild Sheep Chase is the best. None of these books are perfect. But with A Wild Sheep Chase Murakami comes closer to the writing that I absolutely loved in The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and After Dark.

Thematically Murakami is still concerned with identity: both the identity we portray to others, and the inner, more secret identity. He also continues to mull over meaning and finding purpose in life. Murakami writes urban ennui like no one else I've ever read before.

”My biggest fault is that the faults I was born with grow bigger each year”

”I guess I felt attached to my weakness. My pain and suffering too. Summer light, the smell of a breeze, the sound of cicadas - if I like these things, why should I apologize?”

The novel opens with a funeral. It is bleak and out of context, and doesn't appear to fit with the rest of the novel. But if you consider how Murakami is questioning life and its meaning, it ultimately makes sense to open with the loss of someone else's life. Through the course of the novel Murakami makes readers ask questions like: Does anything matter? Does what I am doing matter? Does life have meaning? Does this journey have a purpose?

The narrator wonders as much himself, as he delves deeper into the quest he has been forced into. His physical journey begins to mirror his mental journey.

My main qualm with this novel is that the first half pales in comparison to the second. The second half of the novel is a different beast, and it is so good that if the entire novel was like the second half this would easily be five stars for me. The ending is near perfect. Everything from the Dolphin Hotel on, but especially once they arrive in Hokkaido. I feel that if the first 168 were condensed to 100, or even 75, the novel itself would read much more concisely. But this is early Murakami we're talking about. Nothing is concise, everything is up to interpretation, endless layers of meaning, or even NO meaning, are available.

I read an article that described this novel as labyrinthine and I'm inclined to agree. There are so many different ways to interpret this, so many different ways to read this. For my part, I tended to read through the lens of identity and of personal purpose. This interpretation worked for me, but maybe it won't for you. That's the beauty of Murakami's crazy labyrinthine writing.

”The song is over. But the melody lingers on.”

Стила на Харуки Мураками е толкова уникален, че направо е побъркващо.

И тук той не изневерява на себе си, създавайки ни една атмосфера на загадъчност. Да, това не е роман от ранга на "1Q84" или "Кафка на плажа", но усещането е същото, при Мураками винаги се чувствам като на кафе при приятел, като у дома си.

От срещата ти с него може и да не помниш за какво сте говорили, но помниш приятното усещане да си със сродна душа. 3.5 звезди.

I had no particular intention of reading another Murakami novel—ever, really—but my sister pressed this into my hands after finishing it herself, and after three months of only reading in German, I couldn’t resist. So, while I’ve continued to work my way through Stefan Zweig’s overheated prose over breakfast, I’ve been spending the last couple minutes of the day in Murakami’s effortless dreamworld. And I must say—it’s irresistible. Ridiculous, yes, but irresistible—shameless, preposterous, hilarious, and oh so very readable.

There is a scene towards the end of a A Wild Sheep Chase that I think perfectly encapsulates Murakami’s appeal. The main character is looking in a mirror. There is an air of the supernatural—but for the moment, he is simply looking at his reflection and feeling unmoored. “It was as if I were the reflection of the mirror and this flat-me-of-an-image were seeing the real me,” he thinks. Not a particularly deep thought, by any means—and yet, cumulatively, Murakami captures a mundane kind of alienation, a “who am I and what is happening right now” feeling that I find very relatable. Murakami centers that feeling, he holds it up for inspection from all sides. He does so earnestly, and with a curious combination of wild imagination and flatness, inertness.

Two last notes, after browsing through some other reviews: first, to the people saying that the sheep represents the meaning of life: what book did you read? And second, to the people who thought the ending didn’t come together: I thought the ending was very clever and surprisingly clear, especially for this kind of “weird fiction,” which can have an unfortunate tendency to just sort of trail off…

A play on the old saying ‘a wild goose chase', I'm afraid this book reads more like another old saying, ‘a complete waste of time’. It felt to me that a random series of events had been linked together to form a very loose and aimless narrative. I really had no idea what was going on or what I’m supposed to take from this tale.

I’m a fan of the author, and I believe he’s written some stunning books, my personal favourites (in order) being:
1. 1Q84
2. The Wind-up Bird Chronicle
3. Kafka on the Shore
4. Norwegian Wood

Although the order of the first three is interchangeable, depending on my prevailing mood.

I should have been forewarned regarding this offering as I’d previously, randomly, read Dance, Dance, Dance, which I found incomprehensible. They’re both part of the mini-series of ‘Rat’ books Murakami penned through the 80’s and 90’s and AWSC is the precursor to DDD. I’d rather hoped that the former would provide some structure and some background to the latter, but I’m afraid it just didn’t hold my interest sufficiently to fully test this. I found myself drifting off through sections of the book, and the whole thing just washed over me without leaving much of an impression at all. So, the answers might have been there... I really don't know.

So why two stars and not only one? Well, at heart, this is a detective story, and I like detective stories. There are too many unlikely coincidences and shaky plot connections here, but Murakami’s natural flow is also evident – it’s easy to read and has some nice lines. Also, I only ever give one star to books. I can’t bring myself to finish, and I did finish this one.

My advice is to give this one a miss, but do catch up with his better work. You won’t be sorry you did.

I read this in 2007? 2008? and was able to get all the way through the book without rolling my eyes so hard I could see my brain. The plot kept me moving briskly from event to event, the characters were flat and obnoxious as usual.

I'll never voluntarily pick up a Murakami book again, but if you're looking for one to start with, I'd say do it here. It's in no way necessary to have read others in this series, loosely defined, though it's always possible I simply missed maaaaaaaarvelous enrichments of my entertainment by not having read them.

But I really doubt it.

This book is incredibly imaginative and has vibrant, colourful characters I enjoyed. However, I feel like Haruki Murakami added many layers of meaning to this book and if so, they elude me. If there is an underlying meaning to this book, I can't tell you what the heck it is. Or maybe there is no underlying meaning. Maybe it's just a magical story and my brain always wants there to be something more.  

For the most part,A Wild Sheep Chase is an enjoyable story and I'll probably go back and read the first in the series.  However, there were some parts that really dragged, preventing me from giving this 5 stars.

Książka uspokajająca, jak sen
Realizm magiczny - im dalej tym dziwniej, ale ja to lubię :)
Zastanawiam się jakie powiązanie i wpływ na zrozumienie filozofii Murakamiego mają inne tomy cyklu Szczura…
No i ten nieokreślony niedosyt, czyli to samo, co czułem po przeczytaniu Sputnika.

I find that I'm all over the place chronologically with my readings of Haruki Murakami and I find that it doesn't matter. I believe that this was Murakami's first full length novel, and he already had the pieces of his writing puzzle put together: American detective novels, dreams, popular (and not so popular) culture, odd characters - the philosophizing chauffeur was my favorite here - and a protagonist who has a "when you ain't got nothin'/ you got nothin' to lose" attitude (except that when it comes down to it, he does care about his friend, The Rat).

p. 159 - " 'But isn't that friend of yours already up to his neck in trouble? If not, why would he have gone out of his way to send you that photo?'

'She had me there. I'd laid my cards on the table. and they'd all been trumped. She'd seen right through me.' "

A nicely written passage:

p. 249 - "Roadside billboards relayed their sponsors' messages to no one, nowhere. ... A terrifically tanned girl in a bikini pursed her lips over a Coke, a middle-aged character actor wrinkled his brow at a tilted glass of Scotch, a diver's watch lavishly splashed with water, a model in the midst of a slick, sophisticated interior, doing her nails. The new pioneers of advertising were carving a mean streak deep into the country."

Murakami knew his Raymond Chandler.

Cái mình nhận ra rằng, mình yêu thích Murakami không phải là ở cốt truyện mà ông dựng nên, mình yêu thích bởi những "mẩu" độc thoại nhỏ, những đoạn văn miêu tả nỗi cô đơn, tả cảnh, tả người, tả thị trấn, tả cái xưa cũ nó cứ miên man ám ảnh mãi. Kiểu như đọc rồi rơi hẫng mất một lúc vì những "mẩu" những câu những từ đó. Nó kỳ lạ, kỳ quái đan xen vào nhau làm người đọc cứ nửa thật nửa ảo mà cảm nhận.

Cuộc Săn Cừu Hoang là chuyến đi săn kỳ quái, cũng là một dạng nhân vật Tôi lại lần nữa đi tìm bản thể và cái ý nghĩa nào đó le lói sót lại trong cái cuộc đời nhàm chán của họ. Nói chung đọc Murakami, chẳng nên đọc nhanh làm gì, cứ chậm rãi, đi từng bước một mới thấy hết cái hay.

Mình nghĩ, trong những tác giả mình đã từng đọc chưa ai giỏi mô tả cái cô độc và mông lung đạt như Murakami, thật ra có thể thấy đâu đó trong văn của An Ni Bảo Bối. Thôi kết lại bằng một đoạn trích thế này:

“Ngày đó, tôi đã hai mốt và sắp bước sang tuổi hai mươi hai. Tôi không có cơ may tốt nghiệp sớm, mà cũng chẳng có lý do gì để bỏ học. Tôi bị mắc kẹt trong một tình huống tuyệt vọng kỳ quặc. Hàng tháng trời tôi sa lấy, không tài nào tìm nổi một hướng đi mới cho mình. Vạn vật đều vận động, riêng mình tôi vẫn đứng yên. Vào mùa thu, mọi thứ đều nhuốm màu tàn úa, trong chốc lát màu sắc bỗng nhạt phai trước mắt tôi. Ánh mặt trời, mùi hương cỏ, những tiếng tí tách dù là nhỏ nhất của làn mưa, mọi thứ đều khiến tôi không sao yên ổn.”

:) Người dịch cuốn này dịch tốt, chuẩn luôn!

Murakami is undoubtedly one of the greatest poets of the modern world; the best of his novels suffuse the every-day with the fantastical, zany and yet accessible, few writers are able to captivate the reader like Murukami.

The unnamed narrator is the kind of diffident and disaffected anti-hero who appears so often in Murakami’s novels, perambulating mechanically through the modern life until something extra-ordinary shocks them out of their perpetual somnabulation. In this case the narrator receives three jolts; firstly meeting a woman with perfect ears, secondly is becoming entangled in the wondrous web of a sinister anonymous organisation who have zeroed in on the narrator due to the publication of a seemingly innocuous picture of sheep in one of his advert’s and thirdly is the indirect return of his friend, ‘the Rat’ and perhaps the only other character whose sense of diffidence can match the narrator’s.

What follows is a weird and wonderful journey- an exploration of right-wing politics, the history of Japanese sheep, demonic possession, bovine academia, jazz music, ear-erotica, the novels of Yukio Mishima, god and discourses on office politics. It is hard to describe the plot without spoiling it, and as usual Murukami gives no definite answers, but it essentially revolves around the sinister machinations of a mysterious sheep.

Beneath the zaniness of the plot is the real sense of humanism which is embedded in Murakami’s works. The Ainu youth, who guides the penniless villagers to a isolated spot where they are able to create a new life for themselves, ends up embittered in some ways symbolic of the mis-treatment of the Ainu by the Japanese or even of the decline of the town itself-as much as Murakami is seen as the poet of modernity, his novels are as much about the discombobulating effect of modernity-so whilst no writer captures the quotidian joys of modern life like Murakami, no writer quite captures he sense of alienation it engenders as well.

Murukami is often dismissed as being light-weight and irreverent, yet there is a deep sense of philosophy and profoundness which under-pins his works.