Everything about this novel, even the quarry is elusive.

Begin with the genre: undefinable. It opens with an obituary and half a memory. He's forgotten her name but he does remember what she said: “'I'm going to live to be twenty-five...then die.' Eight years later she was dead at twenty six.” (p.12) He staggers home from the funeral, just in time for the final farewell to his wife. Why did they even marry? “Looking at her back called up memories. Memories of time before I met her.” (p.16) A contrail of exhausted imagery follows before he sums it all up: “Some things are forgotten, some things disappear, some things die. But all in all, this was hardly what you could call a tragedy.” (p.26) If you are thinking tragic romance, you would be wrong. A new girlfriend, one with an unusual source of her allure appears. Only when she pulls her hair back to reveal her ears does he feel that obsessive attraction. Ear fetish? Sexual parody? A noirish mystery unfolds as a menacing underworld figure tells a bizarre story of his boss' possession by the very sheep in a photo the narrator used for a hack publicity piece received from a friend who vanished 5 years ago. Find that sheep! The narrator is at first dismissive; the reader can't help but be intrigued. A literary flourish – the ticking clock of a thriller. You only have a month to find the sheep he’s told. But wait. Then we have a metaphoric psychological profile of Japanese ultra-nationalism.

Some call the writing an example of magical realism. The label adheres only if you consider magic and realism to be fixed entities. Murakami must certainly have contemplated his own post-war generation’s view of the world and that of his parents as fractured views of reality. In Murakami's hands realism is as fluid as water, structured only by the shifting imager of memory, dreams and imagination – all that animates the human mind.

He persuades us to accept coincidence as normal and absence of identity as logical. Neither the ear-girl nor the narrator are named. A vanished friend is nicknamed “The Rat” for no particular reason, and is never referred to as “Rat” like an ordinary nickname, only “The Rat”. Even the pet cat is just “Cat.” The narrator had already forgotten the name of the woman whose funeral he attended by the beginning of the story. The absence of names gives the characters a mutable existence, despite their unique eccentricities. When they disappear that too comes to seem normal.

Murakami toys with words. Silence. It’s more than the absence of words. It is a presence, like a cloud of dust. “...there is the silence you encounter on entering a grand manor. And there is the silence that comes of too few people in too big a space. But this was a different quality of silence altogether. A ponderous, oppressive silence. A silence reminiscent, though it took me a while to put my finger on it, of the silence that hangs around a terminal patient. A silence pregnant with the presentiment of death. The air faintly musty and ominous.” (p.123)

Little sense of agency is exercised in the pages of this novel. In place of agency, there are bizarre obsessions: ears, sheep, a quest. Even The Rat maintains that his actions were the products of necessity. “I heard that story and hurried up here….I couldn’t shake the urge.” (p.329)

Does life have meaning? For Murakami’s characters the answer is uncertain. The Rat states “My life had no meaning. Of course, to borrow upon your venerable generalities, this is to say that everyone’s life has no meaning.” Certainly, the structure of the novel implies the same conclusion with its absence of motive. Moreover, his characters all move about with an air of emotional detachment. The narrator visits the town where he grew up. He remarks on the connection between an eternally flowing river and the diminished inlet and oceanfront, a victim of development. “Instead of ocean, a vast expanse of reclaimed land and housing developments met my eyes. Faceless blocks of apartments, the miserable foundations of an attempt to build a neighborhood.” (p.107) Something living becomes something static and dead. Is it a warning or a prognostication?

I read this book because it was the selection of a local book club. It will be interesting what others will make of it.

NOTES:
Translator Alfred Birnbaum on Murakami: https://lithub.com/inside-the-intrica...

Article on translations of Murakami: https://www.theatlantic.com/culture/a...

This is the first of his works that I have read. A highly acclaimed author Murakami's books have been a rave. But i did not find this novel any special. A disjointed story , i failed to appreciate his style of storytelling. In parts the plot is engrossing but i soon lost interest because there was no logical connection. An average read which i also found to be depressing.

3,5*

Aš buvau prisiklausius, kad pirmos dvi #therat dalys tik kažkokios stotelės, įžangėlės, o jau VA TAS reikalas yra Avies Medžiolė.
Tai taip, jei būčiau ta jaunoji (nu kokia aštuoniolikinė) skaitytoja, tada taip. O štai brandesnei man - įspūdį visgi labiausiai paliko antroji, o štai trečioji gal liktų net ir paskutinėje vietoje. (Sakau jau perskaičiusi visas 4).
Dargi, vėliau apsižiūrėjau, kad pirmos dvi dalys verstos iš japonų kalbos, o štai paskutinės dvi - iš anglų... Kūrinio vertimas yra labai svarbi dedamoji dalis, kuri galėjo nulemti mano įspūdžius, juk vertimo vertinį skaitant buvau pakankamai atitolinta nuo autoriaus ir jo teksto.

Tačiau Avies Medžioklė vis tiek turėjo savo žavumo ir daug ++!
Visų pirma tai Murakami atradau ieškodama Twin Peakso romanuose, ir, žinokit, nieko taikliau tikrai negalima rasti. O Avies Medžioklė tai išvis! Skaitai, ir supranti (kaip ir žiūrėdamas Twin Peaks), kad bišk juokinga, bet kabina kaip, tipo nesąmonė - bet kažkokia klasiška.
Tokia popsiškai keistuoliška, bet tikrai jau ne buka.

Nežinau kodėl, bet labiausiai man šioj knygoj patiko viešbutis, paprastas, mažytis, kiek nudrengtas viešbutis, kurį įsivaizdavau visai tokį, kaip neseniai teko pačiai viešėti Maltoje (haha, Malta - dar viena Murakami istorijų veikėja); taigi vaizdiniai buvo tokie sodrūs, artimi ir juosta taip ryškiai sukosi skaitant, kad įspūdis išties buvo neblogas. O iš tiesų tai reiktų sakyti, kad man patiko, ne ta viena istorijos detalė - viešbutis, bet romano atmosferiškumas: puikiai piešiamos scenos, mistiškos vietos, detalūs, smulkmeniškai nupasakoti veikėjus supantys objektai. Bei dar man labai prie širdies vienas pastebėtas Murakami manieros bruožas: skirti daug dėmesio kasdieniams veikėjų veiksmams. Mane gi tai kažkaip gerai nuteikia, priartina prie veikėjų ir leidžia patikėti, jog jie tikri (nes štai pjausto daržoves ir verda makaronus, pasikloja lovą, užrakina duris).

Nors knygą pristačiau kaip lengvabūdišką, tačiau tai tikrai ne vien tik lėkštas pasakojimas ar smagus fantazijų rinkinėlis: čia meistriškai suraizgyti laiko ir net egzistencijos klausimai, teksto kalbos grožis veržėsi į paviršių net per kelis sluoksnius vertimų, o jo galutinai palaužti nesugebėjo net toli gražu netobulas teksto koregavimas ir/ar redagavimas. Romanas pilnas simbolių, jis lyg mozaika, dėlionė - kupinas margiausių dedamųjų dalių, kurių vienos žybteli į paviršių leisdamos nusišypsoti - pagavau!; o kitos, greičiausiai, liko nepastebėtos.

Patiko man šis romanas, išties, drąsiai toliau mėgausiuosi šio autoriaus kūryba, kuri, jau atrodo - nuvilti nebegali. Kad ir kaip dėl to ironiškai šypteltų rimtieji skaitytojai.

An interesting read, three and a half stars for beauty in language. While I can't say I "really liked it" in the "will re-read one day" sense, I appreciated the richness of the ideas and language offered. I normally tend to devour a book in two or three sittings, but this was a book that worked well reading three or four chapters a night, breaking into small, choice pieces. Although there is a mystery that drives the plot, I would hesitate to say that is the focus of the book, so I didn't feel like I lost tension or details. Murakami seems to work best for me when savored in little bites with the opportunity to linger over phrasing, rather than reading for plot or conflict resolution. I also couldn't escape the nagging feeling that I was missing considerable subtext, as I know almost nothing about Japanese history, or even culture. It had very Vonnegut or Kafka overtones, where there is potentially digressive philosophical musing, and whose impact is strengthened by underlying meaning.

I enjoyed the book, and didn't even feel that it was particularly unrealistic, as other reviewers have charged. I know those kind of people that get into existential discussions with taxi drivers, if not chauffeurs.

One of the only aspects that bothered me what the emotional depression of the narrator. While I'm sure it was intentional, it made it hard to sustain interest in him as a character study. I suppose that could have been the point--just another nameless, disenfranchised person passing out of his twenties and distanced from everything of meaning in life. Nonetheless, Murakami and the translator achieved really wonderous feats with their word choices, and have a knack for gestalt description, for crafting line upon line that builds a priceless whole. It's given me courage to attack my long-unread copy of The Wind-up Bird Chronicles.

Favorite lines:

At the pinnacle of this tower was affixed a decorative lightning rod. A mistake. Lightning was meant to strike the building and burn it down.

The sofa was an unappealing orange, the sort of orange you'd get by leaving a choicely sunburnt (sic) weaving out in the rain for a week, then throwing it into the cellar until it mildewed. This was an orange from the early days of Technicolor.

"Haven't those ears of yours gotten the message yet?"
"No message for the time being," she said, eating her simmered fish and miso soup. "That much I know. I only get despairing messages when I'm confused or feeling some mental pinch. But that's not the case now."

The children were quiet too. They sat still and stared out the window. Occasionally, someone coughed with a dry rasp that sounded like a mummy tapped on the head with a pair of tongs.

4/5 ⭐

Officially, this is my first Murakami novel and guess what? I LIKED IT

I mean it had a lot of advantages and I'll actually list them for you:

1) it was a relatively short read;
2) the writing style made the story flow easily so even if you don't know what to expect you'll still manage to read 50 pages in one sitting;
3) you'll get some n  Squid Gamen vibes from it at some point during the story (trust me, if you watched the TV show then you won't really be able to unsee what I just said);
4) there are NO NAMES to be bothered with remembering; literally, the only name you'd actually see there is the name of the old cat the main character owns;
5) the whole narrative is bizarre, the characters seem to lack personality or even some vitality sometimes but in a way, it kind of makes sense to act like that, after all, they're all Japanese people in 1970s Japan, they just fit the vibe of the time and the place;
6) SO MUCH GOOD MUSIC THERE

n

Aside from all that, this book has been the type that manages to transcend normality and reality and it blends in the fantastic and the supernatural so well that at some point you can't tell when it's real and when it's not. It looks like the storyline just smoked something funky and now everything and everyone in there is high.

I know Murakami might not be everyone's cup of tea but if you ever want to try something of his, you can most definitely try this one, it's short, quick and quite funky.

Während der Lektüre dieses frühen, manche sagen ersten Romans von Murakami habe ich mir ein paar Dokustückchen über Hikikomori, Karoshi und dergleichen angeschaut: soziale Phänomene in Japan, die symptomatisch für die aus Konformismus und Leistungsgedanken entstandenen Probleme stehen. Abgehängte, Überforderte, Lebensmüde, sich selbst vorzeitig Wegrationalisierende.
Auch die Eigenart vieler Japaner, die eigenen Gefühle nicht außerhalb der Kernfamilie zu thematisieren (oder nicht mal hier + nicht jeder hat diese) tragen zur Isolation und psychischen Erkrankung bei. So sehr ich dieses Land bewundere, die sozialen Verwerfungen der Leistungsgesellschaft fern traditioneller Bindungen scheinen noch gravierender als hierzulande, wo sich eine laute Linke dafür auf die Fresse geben lassen muss, dass sie humane Verhältnisse auch für die Nicht-Führungsebene fordert. Danke, liebe gewerkschaftlich organisierte Sozialdemokratie.
Einen Zugriff auf die Vereinsamung haben wir in Deutschland leider ebenfalls nicht. Kirche und Kommunismus haben da beide nicht so abgeliefert. Schade.

Warum mache ich mir diese Gedanken, während ich ein recht schmales Buch lese, das die meisten Leser eher als vergnüglich denn als trist bezeichnen würden?
Weil mich die Frage beschäftigt, wie Murakami auch in Japan der Bestseller wurde. Welche Wünsche sticht er an, was schmeckt den einheimischen (und weltweiten) Lesern so gut?

Gar nicht einfach zu beantworten. Aber was auffällt, ist die mehrfach betonte Mittelmäßigkeit unseres namenlosen Helden, er scheint ganz passiv und wider Willen in sein Abenteuer um ein besonderes Schaf zu geraten. Weder als klug, noch lustig, charmant oder schön sieht er sich - ein Jedermann also. Das kokettiert mit uns. Außerdem legt Murakami eigentlich mehr Gewicht auf die Wiederholung von bekannten Elementen als auf rasante Plot-points. Immer wieder trinkt er Bier oder Whiskey, hört Jazz, liest Sherlock und Dostojewski, raucht Unmengen an Zigaretten und beglückt natürlich die Frauenwelt, die sich rasch in ihn verliebt. Dabei entsteht, ähnlich wie bei Camus, eine durchaus einnehmende Reihung sinnlicher Befriedigung, die vielleicht gerade aufgrund des Mangels an komplizierter Lebensziele für Leser so nachahmenswert ist. Obwohl der Murakami-Held kaum Sinn im Leben sucht /kennt, noch mit vielen Menschen zu tun hat, wirkt er zufrieden in seiner Mittelmäßigkeit. Dass unser Erzähler nicht reflektiert, macht den Stoff bündig und rasant, ihn selbst aber auch zur ungefüllten (oder leserwunschgefüllten) Hülle.

ACHTUNG: GEMÄẞIGTER SPOILER

Ganz dazu passend finde ich das Buch dort stark, wo es in der Schilderung eines Moments verharrt, zum Beispiel wenn ein Bier am Meeresstrand getrunken und wütend weggeworfen wird. Wenn er im Schnee auf Hokkaido ein Würstchen mit Ei brät und danach Conrad liest. Da schreibt Murakami pointiert und durchaus lustig, und das Gefühl entsteht im Leser. Bemerkenswert schwach finde ich hingegen seine Erklärungen der "magischen" Plot-Elemente. Da wird aus unserem kettenrauchenden, trinkenden Mersault-Epigonen rasch ein Wirtshausphilosoph, der mit Begriffen wie Zufall, Chaos, Ewigkeit um sich wirft. Auch das Ende (also die Aufdeckung des Ziels des Schafs) ist auf Trash-Niveau angesiedelt, oder was genau erklärt die erwünschte "Ausradierung aller Unterschiede"? Das wirkt dann eher so, als wäre die Story samt Auflösung eher Beiwerk.

Vorläufiges Fazit zu diesem Buch (das mich vor allem wegen seiner japanischen Provenienz sehr zum Grübeln anregt): Oft super geschrieben und mit einer zumindest oberflächlich definitiv einnehmendem Erzähler-Instanz ausgestattet, die aber (Japan-like?) nie über den inneren Fühl- und Grübelapparat berichtet (z. B. Scheidung von Ex) und deren Frauenbild auf der Therapie-Couch mal angesprochen werden sollte. Dieser Sexismus steckt Mura... ähh dem Erzähler so tief in den Knochen, dass er ihn sicher nicht bemerkt. Dazu mehr in meiner YT-Rezi.
6 von 10 Schafen

دوستش نداشتم... فقط تمامش کردم که کلکسیون موراکامی را تکمیل کنم. ترجمه درخشان و زنده غبرایی بیشتر جذبم کرد تا داستان...
شاید اگر پشت هم نمی خواندم دستش و موتیوها برایم رو نمی شد... سفر، خواب، آدم های عجیب و غریب، تنها در جنگل و گربه ها... هتل ها و کتاب های قدیمی
اتود خوبی بوده برای کافکا در کرانه...
ولی شاید نباید چاپ می شده
پخته و پرورده همه اینها در کافکا در کرانه هست و واضح است. این داستان سوررئال نیست بی سر و ته است. نویسنده هر جا طرحش کم آورده از عناصر جادویی و ماورایی استفاده کرده...
به هر حال به قول ادبیاتی ها فقط برای فهم سیر تطور موراکامی ارزش دارد و لاغیر.

4.5 stars

There is something so special about reading Murakami. It’s like you’re reading someone’s dreams. It’s real, everyday life with moments of surreal happenings. You know that what you’re reading is utterly bonkers, yet that’s ok and no one bats an eye to it.
This is another book which involves the characters of the unnamed narrator and the Rat. And actually, I found it quite sad. There are some bright and funny moments but I feel like the story on the whole is a little glum. I really enjoyed the character exploration in this one and as always I loved it when the characters went to places I have I actually been to in Japan. Even some of the more obscure locations.
I’m hoping to make my way though all of Murakami’s novels that have been translated into english. I’ll read Dance Dance Dance next.

Thank you again, brian tanabe!

Books like these, I feel like a child who has finally graduated to the grown-up table only to find that the cultery is too big and sharp, the edge of the table is level with my eyes, and the conversation always above my head. But no! I refuse to be demoted back to the kids' table with all the babies! I wanna eat here and contribute to the discussions about whether a vacation home in Hawaii or the SE islands would be better (so boring...zzzz....) and did you catch when the bridesmaid tripped and fell on the groom hahahaha oops there's a kid here (*eyes snap open* what?) and the land war brewing in Asia and, and, whatever it is grown-ups talk about. Which is still mysterious to me.

I'm reminded of when I tried to read The Crying of Lot 49 with Elizabeth and Ceridwen (you're supposed to flip back and forth between their posted reviews to get the full conversation). It was such a treat to listen to them tear into the book! I didn't understand a word of it! Pass the peas, please.

The confusion Pynchon brought was similar to the confusion from Murakami for me, but I tried to watch for all those double-meaning grown-up things for this book. With the main character and mysterious Boss in a tightly controlled advertising industry, sheep everywhere, a girlfriend with special ears, and a quest to find the meaning of a certain photo, I think it may be something about control of information and loss of individual will that comes with lack of accurate facts? Well. Maybe. I wasn't sure about the significance of the disolving of the main character's patched-together life at the beginning. At the end, I wondered if the character had gone insane. The magic-y bits were unexpected.

I wonder if it would be better to ramp up to Murakami, since I've always had difficulty with English and Literature classes in school and then all my training and work is for such literal things, where metaphors are not used and a sheep is just an animal that requires passage from field to stream. After reading reviews of others who love Murakami (notably, BenH), I know I'm missing much beauty and meaning.

But then I read something like this, http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/39456993, and I feel better. In my larval stage of lit appreciation, it's too easy to attempt to take on other opinions instead of concentrating on my own. Another reason for loving gr, all the varying loves and hates for the same things.

Creepy.....as....hades.

But that's why I loved it!!!

I'm serious. This book was so creepy it had me wiggling around in my seat in discomfort. Yet, I was absolutely captivated! I couldn't put the book down!

If you're a reader looking for a book that will take you more than one read to truly grasp, then this is the book for you. It had my brain churning and my fingers tapping with nervous energy.

I'm not going to give a bit of a run-down of the book as I've done in previous reviews mostly because it would sound too convoluted out of context. All you really need to know is our main character is forced to go chase a non-existent sheep out in the cold country. He gets trapped on a mountain, in a creepy cabin, all alone, and is occasionally visited by a sheep-man.

There you go.

Murakami's imagery is rich and the meaning of his works heavy and grey, like a cloud hanging right over your head while the sun shines everywhere else. He is not an "IN YOUR FACE" horror master. He's the type that likes to really get under your skin in a very subtle way so that he has unguarded access to your subconscious. When he gets there he gets busy digging and thrashing around and without suspecting it... you're suddenly disturbed.

I honestly have no complaints about this book. To be truthful, I really need to read it a few more times to better gather an understanding for the work. As a piece of pure entertainment it's thrilling, as a work of intellect it's probing and there are quite a few exchanges in the book that make you say "Wait... What?" You wish you had the option to raise your hand and ask for an explanation.

A Wild Sheep Chase is a love child of myth and philosophy and there's plenty to decipher along the literary journey from cover to cover. That's what's so nice about it, and it's what makes this book a fantastic one for a book club that's really looking for some grit to grind.

The sheep-man is probably my favorite character, though he's undoubtedly the most bizarre and unsettling. He shows up randomly and you're never quite sure if he's real or not. You're never completely positive that the main character hasn't lost his mind. Near the end of the book you're not even completely positive that you haven't lost your mind. Doesn't that make a darn good book?!

Highly recommend this work. ABSOLUTELY.

4.5/5stars

This was WONDERFUL. This was the first Murakami book thusfar that made me feel the same as when I was reading "Wind Up Bird" - pleasantly confused (similar to when you're dreaming and know things don't make any sense but go along with it anyway) and itching to see what happens next! I adored how fleshed out the Rat and the unnamed narrator became in this installment, and it was a HUGE improvement from his first two novels. And this did exactly what I loved so much in Wind Up Bird and Kafka which was have a beautiful balance between character exploration and fun, magical realism plot.

I LOVED the plot line - it was insane, made no sense, but also was riveting and completely engrossing. The magical realism elements in this book are some of my favorite besides "Wind Up" and I actually liked how the narrator questions whats going on around him - unlike most of Murakami's protagonists who just go with the flow.

I LOVED the characters. In this novel we had quite a few characters who brought humor to the story which I ADORED - I didn't even know I wanted it, but after reading "Dance Dance Dance" I realize that this was something I really really liked in this novel. We had the girlfriend who was very bubbly and overpacked her suitcases and wanted to go on adventures, the chauffeur who looked after their cat and finally gave it a name, and even the unnamed narrator continually poked fun at his own situation and became self aware of how ridiculous his whole situation was. This book had so many funny one liners, or weird self aware moments that made you feel like you were reading an episode of the office (I could almost see the unnamed narrator looking into the camera at some points during that book).

I also liked how Murakami literally wrote an entire freaking book about a sheep. Like, what.

I also can't seem to figure out if this unnamed narrator from the Rat series is the same man as in "Wind Up Bird" because there are many instances where it references the novel that is written 12 years after this book's publication.
Such as:
"A piercing bird call shot through the open window, a call I'd never heard before." - page 166

"The cat was anything but cute. Rather, he weighed in at the opposite end of the scale, his fur was scruffy like an old, thread-bare carpet, the tip of his tail was bent at a sixty-degree angle..." - page 178

Also the mentions to the unnamed narrator's name was very surreal tbh, and I don't know what Murakami was hinting at with it, or how I feel about it, but I've never seen Murakami bring so much attention to the fact that this narrator doesn't have a name:
" 'They are all given names in compensation for their fixity on the earth... Well, suppose I utterly obliterated my consciousness and became totally fixed, would I merit a fancy name?'
'But you already have a name.'
'Right you are,' I said. 'I nearly forgot.' " - page 182

"I wrote my name on the card but had second thoughts and crumpled it up and stuffed it in my pocket. I took another card and wrote a fake name and fake address." - page 194

" 'The name's already changed. Names change all the time. I bet you can't even remember your own name.' " - page 341

Overall I really, REALLY loved this novel and I hope Dance Dance Dance is just as good! This book was probably the first I've read of his that would be suited for younger readers also, as it was not at all graphic in it's sexual or violent content like his other stories - it was just a very fun, weird adventure to find a sheep with a star on it's back.

No era lo que me esperaba, me esperaba un hombre hablando con un carnero en plan sabio o algo así