Guess I'll Never Be a Murakami Fan

I read Haruki Murakami's 1Q84 a few years ago when it was first published. It was an interesting read, but I ultimately found it frustrating and unsatisfying. I wasn't going to read any more Murakami, guessing that he wasn't to my taste. However, in Ruth Ozeki's A Tale for the Time Being, one of the main characters reads and loves The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, so I thought I'd give Murakami another chance.

While I found The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle a better novel than 1Q84, it too left me frustrated and unsatisfied for many of the same reasons. The harrowing war stories at the heart of the novel were the best part. Lieutenant Mamiya's tales of the Japanese occupation of Manchukuo and imprisonment in a Siberian labor camp were compelling. These stories of real suffering, courage, and luck (or lack of it) lent gravitas to the novel.

What I found unsatisfying was the rest of the novel. The characters seemed just as vague and unformed at the end of the book as they did at the beginning. We learn more about Toru Okada, the narrator, but I still didn't have a sense of who he was. He's a meticulous housekeeper, can be courageous, and is basically decent. He's quit his job, but hasn't figured out what he wants to do next. He loves his wife, but many women are attracted to him. He's also more than a bit weird. He buys the abandoned house next door to sit on the bottom of the dried-up well "to think". In the end, we don't know a whole lot about Toru Okada, considering he's the narrator and main character.

We learn even less about the other characters. The villain, Noboru Wataya, is Toru Okada's brother-in-law and Toru hates him. He's a professor and later becomes a politician, but there seems to be a disconnect between his inner self and his outer persona. There's also some bizarre stuff about him "defiling" women, but we're never entirely sure what that means. Kumiko, Toru's wife, seems vague and unreal, and we never really get what makes her tick. The same goes for Nutmeg, Cinnamon, and the Kano sisters. May Kasahara is my favorite character, other than Lieutenant Mamiya and Colonel Honda. She's a loudmouthed teenager who provides much-needed comic relief.

The weirdness for the sake of weirdness got on my nerves. Just because someone is having bizarre paranormal adventures doesn't necessarily make a good novel. Murakami seems to think weirdness and the paranormal are virtues of good writing, but they don't necessarily make the books worth reading. The novel is divided into three books, and I liked Book Three the best as it was more serious, passionate, and focused. In the end, I was left with the same feeling I had at the end of 1Q84. I just don't find Murakami to be a very substantial writer.

What can I say?

This was an extremely weird, yet at the same time, an incredibly amazing ride!

This was my very first encounter with Magical Realism and with the works of Murakami.

And it is one that I can wholeheartedly recommend to anyone who asks and even to those who don't.

I won't provide a summary here because I simply cannot.

All I can say is this.....

This definitely won't be the last time I will read this novel.

I am certain that more works by Murakami will follow. In fact, I have already ordered 1Q84.

This novel truly had, to use a phrase by some TV personality, the WOW-factor for me!

It was like a journey into a completely different world, filled with strange and wonderful elements that kept me on the edge of my seat from beginning to end.

The characters were vivid and complex, and the story was so engaging that I found myself completely immersed in it.

I can't wait to explore more of Murakami's works and see what other magical and realistic worlds he has in store for us.

This was my initial foray into the enchanting universe of Haruki Murakami. I am among the numerous individuals who believe that his Nobel Prize for Literature is long past due. A significant portion of this sentiment is based on his core works in the 90s, including this remarkable masterpiece.

It is a captivating multi-level story presented in the typical Murakami style, abundant in vivid imagery and fascinating characters. I was completely enamored with the story, the writing style, and just about every aspect within these 600+ pages. I will refrain from revealing any plot spoilers. Suffice it to say that it is the ideal Murakami novel to begin with and, perhaps in my humble opinion, his most powerful work during his most productive period as a writer.

Anecdote: Over ten years ago, I shared this book with a neighbor in Paris. It quickly circulated throughout the building and the surrounding neighborhood. Approximately two years later, someone from a different part of the city expressed their gratitude to me for mentioning the book to the original person because she had adored it.

Fino's Murakami Reviews - Novels

Hear the Wind Sing (1979/1987-2015)

Pinball, 1973 (1980/1985-2015)

A Wild Sheep Chase (1982/1989)

Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World (1985/1991)

Norwegian Wood (1987/1989-2000)

Dance Dance Dance (1988/1994)

South of the Border, West of the Sun (1992/2000)

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (1995/1997)

Sputnik Sweetheart (1999/2001)

Kafka on the Shore (2002/2005)

After Dark (2004/2007)

1Q84 (2010/2011)

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage (2013/2014)

Killing Commendatore (2017/2018)

Fino's Murakami Reviews - Short Story Collections and Misc

The Elephant Vanishes (1993)

After the Quake (2000/2002)

Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman (2006)

Men Without Women (2014/2017)

First Person Singular (2020/2021)

Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running (2007/2008)

People’s lives are intricately intertwined with the histories of their nations. Moreover, on a much larger scale, I would assert that each individual’s life is bound to the history of mankind, which is replete with both beautiful examples and far more gruesome misdeeds. History defines us, shapes us, and ultimately, constitutes our inner selves. In its repetitive nature, history is constantly present in our daily lives, often in ways that are imperceptible to our short-sighted consciousness.

The weapon used by soldiers in war to slay their opponents is now employed by an otherwise peaceful and ordinary person to vanquish the embodiment of their own personal darkness, even on a profound, spiritual level of reality. Whether spiritual or not, however, violence has always been an inherent part of human nature, and it has always found means to express itself, whether under the orders of “superiors” or by our own repressed superior instincts. We may very well attempt to keep those instincts of ours confined in dark hotel rooms, but sooner or later, we are bound to confront the truth: the path that leads to freedom lies within.

I first read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle two and a half years ago. I recall being in a state of awe as I delved into a world where every character and nearly every plot device was a projection of repressed emotions and inner fears. I also remember being dumbfounded when I realized that I was reading it from the depths of my own personal well. Murakami’s voice seemed to emanate directly from the very spot where I was, from my very being, in fact, as opposed to the voices of others that appeared distorted to me, echoing their way down to reach me and being all but incomprehensible at the time. I am glad to say that this book transformed me and aided me in discerning the good that could emerge from the hopeless state I was in. Now, after two and a half years and having finally emerged from the well, I can see even more clearly that it is not just a touching story filled with sudden twists and mind-bending turns, but also a magnificent work of literature that will be etched into your soul if only you allow it.

Of course, like all of Murakami’s books, it is not for everyone. It requires a certain chemistry to be appreciated. It is not merely that it operates on an abstract level without clearly answering the countless questions it has posed (although “clear answers” can now be a subjective matter, can’t they?). It is that, at some point, you reach the conclusion that it is not about answering questions after all. Some questions cannot and, let’s face it, will never be answered. And this perspective is what is difficult to accept.

Murakami’s masterpiece weaves together numerous subjects, all of which revolve around the most challenging subject of all: the self. Dreams and reality merge into one, and you feel it more and more as the story progresses, that there is far more here than you anticipated. Philosophical and psychological explorations intertwine with historical facts and modern-day atrocities, all beneath a sky (or in a sea) of symbolisms that, ingeniously crafted as they are, make the most powerful points even stronger. Do not simply expect a collection of mind-boggling tricks and a purely dreamy/nightmarish atmosphere, although there is plenty of that as well. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle will impose its slow, highly introspective mood upon you and consume you whole, just like a well in which you must descend if you are to stretch and超越 the confines of your limited self. Now, the kind of person who will emerge from that well is entirely dependent on what you make of your stay within.

\\n  In a place far away from anyone or anywhere, I drifted off for a moment.\\n

I think the phrase is “drunk reviewing.” Goodreaders I’ve seen tipple and type often have great success connecting to an audience. I can’t seem to scare up relevant examples, but I figure some of my friends more up on quaff-and-comment mode can help me with that. Imbibing reviewers are liable to say anything. It’s less formulaic. Plus, some previously guarded opinion may slip out. In vino veritas, right?

The relevance of this to me is to ask a related question: Can it be said, in the same vein, “In Nyquil, naked truth?” Or if not naked truth, inanity? Or could it be neuroticism? The following is more or less verbatim from last night’s stream-of-semi-consciousness. It may not be the best idea to analgize and analyze or medicate and encapsulate, but sadly enough, it’s all I’ve got.

[Me, in bed; tossing, turning, stealing covers, kicking covers off, with inner voice blathering.]

“This is a dream, right? Well, yeah, but it seems real enough. Besides, if I was really deep in REM sleep, would I be capable of asking the question? Along similar lines, would I know to ask whether surreality is a word? What about metadream? Oh hell, let’s just go with it.

I wonder who I’m meant to be in this quasimetasurreality? All I’m getting is darkness, a vague discomfort, and a closed-in feeling like I’m at the bottom of a well gone dry. Ahh, OK, now I get it. I’m a Murakami character. Does that mean Jay Rubin had a hand in making me? Jeez!

[Flailing back and forth fitfully.]

Oh well, it’s not like I have a choice at this point. They might as well shove me into the friggin’ labyrinth, or waterless well, or wherever it is these internal struggles are meant to play out. Do I at least have a proximate cause for my concerns? A missing cat? A missing wife? Whatever it is, I seem less panicked than I might. I guess I’m not much of a man of action.

[A slight adjustment of the pillow does little to suggest otherwise.]

I’m nondescript (that’s a shoe that fits), kind of an every man, and will need to go deep down within myself to figure out anything interesting. Now I get why I’m in a well. Even a double-shot of Nyquil wouldn’t obscure a symbol that obvious. So now that I’m the protagonist, Mr. Wind-Up Bird, I should be visited by those two psychic sisters. One was like a succubus, but this being a dream of a dream would, I imagine, make her pretty severely pixelated. And what about that wise-beyond-her-years, morbid-beyond-her-aspect teenage girl? She’s supposed to help clarify my odd behavior for me if I’m not mistaken. For that matter, the old soldier who told such a gruesome war story and seems to have so little to live for is also meant to sort me out. Then there are those mother and son mind healers who recognize my latent powers to do the same. Why not. . . it’s a dream, remember? Supernatural or not, it’s all good. And it’s all confusing. But let’s think. I’m down here in my well with plenty of time to mull things over. It’s catharsis time, right? It’s about me, it’s about collective Japanese memories, it’s about humankind, it’s. . . bzzzZZZZZZ. . . 5:45.

Quick, copy and paste to the temporal lobes. I really think this time I’m on the verge of something profound. Now let’s see what, if any of this, holds up past the shower.

As usual, none of it did pass the shower test. However, the long, half-awake dream did remind me of the feeling I got as the reader, and the connection I felt for the character. He and I may not have crossed the threshold into greater insight or consciousness, but we did catch a glimpse of the gateway. Credit to Murakami for that.

Moreover, this experience makes me wonder about the nature of dreams and their influence on our creative and cognitive processes. Do these semi-conscious states offer a unique perspective that we can't access in our waking lives? And how can we better harness the power of our dreams to gain deeper understanding and inspiration? These are questions that I'll continue to ponder as I explore the strange and wonderful world of the subconscious.

Perhaps in the future, I'll be able to find a way to translate the vivid and often chaotic imagery of my dreams into something more tangible and meaningful. Maybe I'll even write a story or poem inspired by my nocturnal adventures. Who knows? The possibilities are endless, and that's what makes the study of dreams so fascinating.

In conclusion, while my Nyquil-induced dream may not have led to any earth-shattering revelations, it did provide me with a valuable reminder of the power of the subconscious mind. And for that, I'm grateful.

**The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle: A Captivating Tale**

5/5stars | Favorite Standalones


Reread: December 2017 - January 2018


I need a moment to gather my thoughts, but know that this is still my second favorite book of all time. It truly blows me away.


On this reread, I had a new perspective. Initially, I thought Toru Okada was disinterested and indecisive. But now, I see his passion for his wife Kumiko is astounding. Even after all that happens, his loyalty is beautiful.


I also discovered a new love for Cinnamon. I didn't care for Nutmeg, but Cinnamon is complex, interesting, and a cutiepie with a possible crush on Toru.


The parallels between this and 1Q84 are insane. I'm almost certain they take place in the same world. There are so many things I forgot from this novel while reading 1Q84.


There's so much more I could say, but I'll leave it to the spoiler section.




- I can't believe I didn't notice Ushikawa in this novel. It was a shock when he appeared.

- I don't think May is real. Maybe she's Kumiko's Dhota or a figment of Toru's imagination.

- What is the "lump of death" May mentions? Is it related to what Wataya pulls out of Creta?

- Mr. Honda's "present" was meeting Mamiya and hearing his story.

- Are 1Q84 and WUB set in the same world? Or is the dream world of WUB the "Q" world in 1Q84?

- The boy with the heart is Cinnamon.

- How do you hear the WUB? Do you need a mark or specific ability?

- I believe the WUB is only in the dream world.

- Wataya wants to hear the WUB and have the dreamwalking power.




First Read March 2016

I'm not sure how to write a coherent review for this amazing book. It's next level literature and right up there with "Three Souls" on my favorites list.

I now want to read everything Murakami has written. In this novel, we follow Toru Okada, who is told by his wife to find their missing cat. This simple task leads to an insane journey.

Toru meets strange psychic women, a mother-son duo, a teenage girl, and has run-ins with his wife's brother. The story is a complex and captivating adventure.

The language is beautiful, every word carefully chosen. The characters are well-developed, and the postmodern themes add depth. I loved the mystery and vivid descriptions.

This book is not for the faint of heart. It has sexually explicit material and graphic violence. But it's a refreshing read after so much censorship.

I highly recommend it to those who enjoy disturbing and thought-provoking books. Have sticky tabs ready to mark the great passages!


spoilers section


The dream-walking aspect was confusing but necessary. The cat was a great addition, paralleling Toru and Kumiko's relationship. I marked several spots about Mackerel.

" 'I want you to understand one thing,' said Kumiko. 'That cat is very important to me. Or should I say to US. We found it the week after we got married. Together.' " (page 47)

"As before, there was no sign of anyone in the area. All that moved was a large brown cat, slowly making its way across the vacant lot, oblivious to me." (page 336)

"One thing was sure: things had started to move. I told myself this as I walked home clutching my bag of groceries. Now all I had to do was hold on tight to keep from being knocked off. If I could do that, I would probably end up somewhere - somewhere different from where I was now, at least."

"My premonition was not mistaken. When I got home, the cat came out to freet me. Just as I opened the front door, he let out a loud meow as if he had been waiting all day and came up to me, bent-tip tail held high. It was Noboru Wataya, missing now for almost a year. I set the bag of groceries down and scooped him up into my arms." (page 372)

"(Kumiko's letter) Take good care of the cat. I can't tell you how happy I am that he is back. You say his name is Mackerel? I like that. He was always a symbol of something that grew up between us. We should not have lost him when we did." (page 603)