\\n  \\"Si puedes imaginar bien y de forma concreta lo que quieres, puedes alejarte más de la realidad.\\"\\n

4.5★

This review is truly wonderful! Haruki Murakami has once again managed to captivate me with one of his hallucinatory, astonishing, and surreal works.

Crónica del pájaro que da cuerda al mundo presents us with a story that oscillates between the real and the dreamlike. Our protagonist, Tooru Okada, is a young Japanese man whose life, which unfolds with absolute normality, undergoes a strange transformation after receiving an anonymous call from a woman. Tooru Okada's perception of the world changes throughout the story. Unusual characters start to appear (and disappear) around him, dreams begin to cross the barrier into the real, and reality degrades until it acquires a decidedly different tone.

\\n  \\"«El ser humano es asombroso», pensé. «Si permanece inmóvil diez minutos con los ojos cerrados, verá infinidad de grises».\\"\\n

The book is written in a wonderful way. I am fascinated by the author's admiration for popular culture and how it is reflected in each of his works. Once again, I enjoyed the various musical references. Thank you, Murakami!

I was also once again fascinated by his way of presenting us with everyday Japan, its customs, and its history. It is truly amazing how Murakami manages to make a story that sways between the real and the surreal maintain an everyday and simple atmosphere. Personally, I enjoyed each and every one of the chapters, but I understand that it may be a somewhat tedious read for those who do not know the author, as the book is a bit long.

The characters that appear throughout the story are astonishing. I think that one of the things that I enjoyed the most, and that I loved the most about the book, were those secondary characters. Extraordinary! Each of them adds something magical, interesting, and incredible to the book. I hope to continue soon with my journey through Murakami's work.

\\n  \\"El mar le despertaba una tristeza profunda en el corazón y, al mismo tiempo, le sosegaba con dulzura.\\"\\n

This time of reading, I have discovered many new things from "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle".

Here, there is a sense of empathy: It's just summer, a bit sweaty and stuffy, and I also just stopped my current work to take a break for a while - just like Toru Okada. Of course, I'm not as muddled, and I haven't been abandoned by my wife like that.

Certainly, this is one of Murakami's most remarkable masterpieces. Starting simply, just from the act of looking for a cat (something symbolic perhaps), and then dragging along a series of entanglements behind that act of searching. I always think that human life is full of twists and turns, and there are many choices. Turning left, turning right, choosing wrong or right all have different impacts on one's life and fate. And "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" has stepped into another world and has undergone permanent changes.

The first time I read it, I just felt that I should "try hard" to finish reading it, but I didn't really feel it. This time, after several years, that feeling is different. Perhaps because my eyes can see more, and my heart can understand the deeper layers that Murakami unfolds in more than 700 pages of the book.

That is to say, life, although seemingly calm and peaceful, still has hidden undercurrents of fluctuations, like the water flow of a big river, ready to form a flood that sweeps away everything. That is to say, we think simply, but it's not that simple, especially the life of a person. And no matter how we go, we also have to face and try to patch up all the possible holes in the boat we are riding, so that one day we won't sink deeply.

Kano Mata, Kano Creta, Nutmeg, Kasahara May, Kumiko. Each woman who comes and goes in a man's life at any time brings a lot of changes and even tempests.

From the story of losing the cat and the wife leaving, Murakami redraws all the history, the battles, the massacres, and then brings the reader back to modern Japan with so many mysteries: Mysteries from family to mysteries about sex and politics.

I still often wonder if I were to tell this story to someone else, what could they tell? I'm sure 100% that anyone who reads Murakami can't tell the main plot, because it's messy, chaotic, intertwined, layered, and not in any fixed direction. The time I read the interview, they asked what the meaning of "Norwegian Wood" was, and Murakami (who usually never answers about his works) said: "Read it again." And yes, every time you read it again, you will see something different.

Just know that, although there is messiness, no main plot, trickery, and deception, but those who have overcome it all feel extremely interested. He is not like anyone else in the literary world. He is a solitary pillar, lonely, and tells non-linear and non-realistic stories with a wealth of knowledge in all aspects.

The ambiguous ending, standing between two ends: Say goodbye to May and wait for Kumiko to come back, making the reader have to ask themselves then where will "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" go and whether it can wait.

And those rooms like 208, the woman hiding her face, and then those secret stories that never end, how many such things are still hidden by people on this earth. And why is it only Murakami who dares to tell.

Wealthy and attractive in all aspects.

I will also go looking for a really deep well.

Haruki Murakami indeed possesses a convoluted mind and an even more intricate imagination.

Essentially, this is the tale of a couple who, due to a lack of communication, ultimately become separated.

The main character, Toru Okada, who might just be the most uninteresting husband in the entire world and perhaps beyond, is nicknamed Mr. Wind-Up Bird by a teenager friend (though the friend part is a bit unclear). He is attempting to discover what drove his wife away from him and to win her back. That's the gist of the story.

But. There is a significant "but" involved. His pursuit of answers is the main allure for the reader. Besides experiencing a full range of human emotions, he encounters all sorts of people, and not just that; their surreal stories intertwine with his to the extent that you have no clue what is real and what isn't. It makes your head whirl, yet you keep reading because Murakami has a genuine talent for storytelling. I was spellbound, confused, appalled, horrified, nauseated, touched, and amazed by some of the tales. I even skipped a couple due to too much visual distress for me.

However, I failed to understand the point of some narrative threads like the mysterious woman with her, let's say, booty calls; I believe they were included merely to add excitement to the story.

The truth is, no matter how disturbing or flawed his stories may be, you simply can't stop reading. He has one of the most captivating writing styles. And if you've read him before, you somewhat anticipate this from him. What you gain in addition is the element of surprise, which is always different.

Hadn't this book been a buddy read, it would have been an utterly devastating read. It undeniably felt like torture because this book is all over the place.

Let's start with the characters. Oh boy, the protagonist was so indifferent that I couldn't even recall his name. We're talking about Murakami, so don't expect interesting personalities. Instead, we have a bunch of void characters who simply exist. Toru feels as if he was on crack throughout the whole book. He is also so mainstream and basic, just like Toru from Norwegian Wood. In fact, he didn't even bother to change the name. They're one and the same. A purposeless man who quit his job (and will remind you about it countless times so that you won't forget). Of course, all the females lust over him, but again, I don't know why.

As far as the writing goes, it's full of repetitions. The word "sleep" was repeated 5 times in a paragraph, and his similes are weak and many of them are cringy as fuck. But it's not just that. Sometimes Toru would describe a dialogue or a scene that had happened just two pages ago. Why? There were also so many phrases that were used quite often.

It's an 800++ pages book, out of which half of them could have been omitted. Up until the second book, I was desperately looking for the plot. Spoiler alert: I couldn't find it. Needless to mention the never-ending storytelling that was repetitive. At some point, a character says, "Anyway, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to exhaust you with all those boring details." Murakami himself writes and recognizes that they are boring information, yet somehow instead of saving the reader from another plain and pointless story, he offers it on a plate. Why? We don't care! He was either trolling us or didn't pay attention to it.

Other examples include "Oh, sorry, I was carried away again" and "As always, sorry for bothering you with my nonsense." So, how about skipping those unnecessary details? Just a thought.

And regarding the plot and its underwhelming ending, I was disappointed. In no way was I shocked or whatever. Toru has to remind us about Honda's prophecy since Murakami knew we would have forgotten after all those tiring stories.

Think of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle as a labyrinth where you try to find your way through the exit, only there is none. And the author is like, "Sorry, you're on your own, buddy." And no, this is not witty or majestic. It's only convenient for the writer. It's extremely easy to just put a bunch of random things and never explain anything but expect the reader to be amazed and consider you a genius. And I can't see what the fuss over Murakami winning a Nobel is all about. In The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, I found things that he had already used in Norwegian Wood and After Dark. This is not brilliance. Not to add that his books lack decent writing. The dialogues are unrealistic, as if spoken by wooden people. He recycles his ideas and is predictable.

Την κριτική της Ολυμπιάδας θα την βρείτε εδώ

I'm not even entirely certain that I fully grasped what was going on, but this piece was truly hallucinatory, a magical realism that was both weird and captivating, making it an extremely interesting read indeed!

It was as if one was lost in a labyrinth of a fever dream, with the words and images twisting and turning in the most unexpected ways.

I also greatly enjoy Murakami's references and metaphors to Greek mythology. They add an extra layer of depth and mystery to the already complex narrative.

Overall, this text did take me a while to read, but it was well worth the effort. The illusionary nature of it kept me engaged from start to finish, and I found myself constantly reflecting on the strange and wonderful world that Murakami had created.

It's the kind of writing that makes you question your own perception of reality and leaves you with a sense of wonder and awe.

"Know what's weird? Day by day, nothing seems to change. But pretty soon, everything's different.”

Just a few pages into "The Wind-up Bird Chronicle", this was the very first thought that hit me. If you haven't read Murakami before, then this book serves as a perfect example of what defines this great storyteller's style. His world is completely distinct from yours or what you can envision. It blurs the boundaries between the real and the surreal, and it might compel you to follow him into that world by winding up your spring. Creaaak.

Before delving into this book, I overheard a brief conversation among three readers:

"So, what are your thoughts on the latest Murakami offering?"

The Independent on Sunday said, "Oh Murakami! He weaves these textured layers of reality into a short-silk garment of deceptive beauty. How on earth does he manage to create poetry while writing about contemporary life and emotions? I'm weak-kneed with admiration."

The Daily Telegraph responded, "True, True! His works are deeply philosophical and teasingly perplexing. It's impossible to put it down."

Finally, the New York Times declared, "You know, critics have variously likened him to Raymond Carver, Raymond Chandler, Arthur C. Clarke, Don DeLillo, Philip K. Dick, Bret Easton Ellis, and Thomas Pynchon - a roster so ill-assorted as to suggest Murakami may in fact be original."

So basically, he's AweSome!!

"The Wind-up Bird Chronicle" is a chronicle (not in any particular order) of Mr. Wind-up Bird, that is, Toru Okada, the protagonist. An ordinary day in the ordinary life of an ordinary man took an unexpected turn (for better or for worse) when his cat went missing, followed by various incomprehensible events that began to define his existence in his own little world and the world around him. It was as if God himself got tired of looking at the most dull and monotonous life of this good-for-nothing man and decided to have some fun at Toru's expense, throwing one twist after another to make him move his lazy ass and save his world.

It's a long book, apparently his longest until "1Q84" came along. Its length is due to the various intriguing themes that Murakami employs in his narrative, which includes strange phone calls from even stranger people, WWII reminisces by a veteran soldier, long letters by an adolescent girl (this is also one of my favorite parts of the book, and Murakami's sheer brilliance is reflected in the way he narrates a 16-year-old girl's point of view), and various other stories told by random characters whose entry and exit in Toru's life are also governed by randomness.

Oh, and of course! There is SEX, plenty of it. Everyone is having sex with everyone, but not in the actual sense of that word. It's not there to derive some kind of pleasure. In fact, it's for everything but pleasure. There is a naked woman at every other turn of the chapter, but it doesn't evoke any ooh or aah feeling. There is no "50 Shades" going on here *ewwww*. I reckon the only reason any guy would like to be in Toru Okada's place is just because of the nakedness around him, ahem. And I couldn't help but think about this latest video that has recently gone viral:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bZkp7...

Hehe…hmmm.

Here, a kind of fundamental importance is given to a dry well, a well for Toru's thoughts, thoughts that were buried in some deep and dark area of his being and needed some equally deep and dark place to reveal them. It's a place where he can exercise his own powers to answer the myriad mysteries surrounding his life, followed by various metaphysical and supernatural episodes. Most of the things are open to interpretation as Murakami will only reveal as much as he feels the need to. He'll tell a 20-page story just to pick a small single ingredient from there to carry on his plot or to integrate the various points he scattered here and there in the whole narrative.

It has happened before, and it might happen every time I read any of his books, that I need some time alone to mull over everything I read in order to connect the dots, whether metaphorical or literal, to make some sense (no matter how lurid it is) of what exactly he is trying to imply. He has his own set of props that will emerge in possibly most of his novels but have a different role to play each time as the story demands. Now, how one takes it as a reader is completely an individualistic stance. Either you'll find it redundant or be happy to be surrounded by familiar buddies. I belong to the latter group. So one better make sure to ask the right questions or not ask at all, as sometimes the real essence of beauty lies in how much it conceals rather than how much it reveals.

I finished this book yesterday, and today I received a mail from an online book store recommending me some books. Here is a screenshot of the same:



Talk about coincidences ;-)

The dark side of Murakami...

Who You’re Reading When You Read Haruki Murakami

Haruki Murakami's English translators may have catapulted the Japanese author to global acclaim. However, as writer David Karashima discloses in his book Who We’re Reading When We’re Reading Murakami, they took significant liberties during the translation process. For instance, in the English version of An Adventure Surrounding Sheep, which was retitled A Wild Sheep Chase, all references to its 1970s setting were omitted. The editors believed that readers would favor a more contemporary setting. Additionally, translators toned down some of the more explicit scenes in Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. Shockingly, a staggering 25,000 words were excised from The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. This begs the question: who exactly are we reading when we pick up a Murakami novel in English? Are we truly getting the full essence of his work, or is it being filtered and altered by the translation process? It's a thought-provoking issue that challenges our perception of translated literature and the role of translators in bringing foreign works to a wider audience.

https://www.theatlantic.com/culture/a...

Murakami leads you here to write what you haven't written yourself, just as Kafu did. And it's up to each of us to imagine what's lacking in the events according to what we see and what we want. There's nothing wrong with that. The time of the writer who writes everything for you has ended, and now it's your turn. At least that's what I understood and that's what I imagined.

On this day, after my return from visiting May Kasahara, I immediately went to attend the trial of Komiko, who was in a state bordering on dementia. I wasn't allowed to visit her before, and she didn't want to receive anyone. Her lawyer made extraordinary efforts to talk to her or understand her motives for killing Noboru Wataya, but to no avail. All she would say, repeating it over and over, was that she did what she had to do. She didn't hesitate in this sentence even during her testimony in court or in front of the psychiatrist who was called in to evaluate her condition.

Finally, the court was convinced by the lawyer's argument that Komiko had been under the influence of her sister's condition and was desperate for her recovery, and wanted to put an end to her suffering by removing the artificial respirator from her, which is known as euthanasia, based on her verbal request. And after the psychiatrist recommended taking into account her mental state and the shock she had suffered, the court sentenced her to treatment at home under the supervision of a psychiatrist, along with a three-year prison sentence with a stay of execution.

When we returned home, Komiko was like a white ghost, or a silent angel, or a Buddhist nun oblivious to the world for a long time. Then, little by little, she began to talk about the future. About having a child to dispel the darkness of this well, and about replacing this house with another in a place where she didn't remember anything that had happened.

I didn't ask her about the place where she had been confined or about what had happened before. I didn't ask about the perfume she had put on the last time and who had given it to her. I didn't ask about the secret she was supposed to tell me so that events wouldn't develop like this. I also didn't tell her anything about Malta Kano and Creta Kano, and of course not about May Kasahara, who had now become her friend, and I didn't tell her about the well and about Kafu and his hut and their two dogs. We wiped the page of the past that no longer connected us with anything except one last task that remained for me, which was to scatter the ashes of Lieutenant Mamiya in a place he had designated for me in Muscat, Oman.

The strange-shaped Siamese cat shook its tail, then curled up on itself in my room and went into a deep sleep. I looked at it, then looked at Komiko as she was preparing dinner for us, and I forgot everything.

You can find my references for the first part here.

You can find my references for the second part here.

You can find my references for the third part here.

**"Haruki Murakami's 'The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle': A Captivating Read"**

I had long wanted to read Murakami. I'd seen the covers of his books in bookstores, read about him and his challenging path to the Nobel Prize in Literature (something perhaps Murakami himself doesn't take too seriously). Gradually, I developed the urge to choose one of his books to read.

I believe I didn't make a mistake in selecting "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle". After verifying that for many it's his most complete work, and although I think "Kafka on the Shore", "Norwegian Wood", and "1Q84" are the other steps to take to fully understand his narrative, I decided to buy and read it quickly.

It has been a very pleasant reading. Truly, Murakami is a delightful writer. He has a simple, fluid narrative, devoid of technicalities or convoluted language, and mainly knows how to create an atmosphere within the novel he develops.

Perhaps, the only thing I have to object to (although I don't think that's the right word) is that he incurs in redundancy regarding the habitual things the characters do (making coffee, cleaning this, that, eating, tidying the house, etc.), all with too much detail, which causes the reader to lose attention to the story itself, but one eventually gets used to it. Anyway, this doesn't detract from what's really important when reading the novel.

Murakami mostly creates main characters with few secondary ones. This is something I could clearly notice both at the beginning of the first part with Tooru Okada and his wife Kumiko; in the second part with the appearance of May Kasahara, Tooru's brother-in-law Noboru Wataya, and Creta and Malta Kanoo, and already in the third part starting with Nutmeg and Cinnamon Akasaka.

Throughout the entire novel, these characters are the ones through whom the whole story passes. Even their cat, purposefully named like his brother-in-law, Noboru Wataya (later renamed Sawara), is one of the main intrigues through which the story passes.

Finally, there is a character who also has preponderance in the last part: Mr. Ushikawa, whom I consider as the most Dostoyevskian, gray, turbid, and sly character with radical thoughts and dark ideas.

The routine life of Tooru Okada after leaving the law firm and becoming a "house husband" begins, first with the disappearance of his cat and then the most important thing, the disappearance of Kumiko. It starts to unfold in different planes and realities, which are the places he frequents both in real time and in the dreamlike state, that is, his house, a well in the abandoned mansion that belonged to the Mishawaki family, the courtyard of May Kasahara, the huge house of the Mishawaki, and already in the plane of the alternative reality that is invading him, the famous Room 208, where he meets the famous woman in bed and where he crosses paths with the faceless man.

These unreal or dreamlike intrusions will begin to affect him because these characters (such as Creta Kanoo, the "mind prostitute", Malta Kanoo, and even Noboru Wataya whom Tooru deeply hates) that he meets are strange and interact with him in both planes and will quickly end up fusing to actively coexist in Tooru's mind and reality.

The amazing thing about all this is how Murakami plays with all these factors without transforming the novel into an incomprehensible mess, and that's where his talent lies.

Tooru walks the streets, takes trains, enters buildings, bursts into almost tangible dreams, gets into a well for a day and a half, and above all, enters a world of fantasy where what happens is directly related to what happens in his real life.

To all this, Murakami adds the different stories that some characters tell, such as that of Lieutenant Mamiya in the war or Nutmeg and Cinnamon's about the massacre of the animals in the zoo, and almost at the end, that of Boris, the flayer. We will also find several letters that May Kasahara sends to Tooru, as well as newspaper articles related to the strange mansion of the Mishawaki.

All this ensemble of stories ends up forming a larger and more complex one, the chronicle of the "wind-up bird" which is Tooru himself, the stone statue of the bird that seems to take flight and is in the courtyard of the mansion, and also that little bird that Tooru hears and that perches on a branch making that particular ric-ric as if it were winding up our imagination while, together, we help wind up the world.

Reading Murakami is like entering an old building through the back door: you never know what you're going to find once you cross the threshold.

However, we could say that on the other side of the door awaits a world full of tiny fireflies that distort reality until they create 'The Murakami Effect'.

It's a senseless whirlwind that crystallizes at the end of each reading.

His stories are like a maze, leading the reader through a series of strange and wonderful landscapes.

There are elements of the supernatural, the absurd, and the deeply personal, all交织在一起 to create a unique and unforgettable experience.

Murakami's writing style is both lyrical and accessible, making his books a pleasure to read for both casual readers and literary enthusiasts alike.

Whether you're a long-time fan or new to his work, there's always something new and exciting to discover in the pages of a Murakami novel.

I absolutely adored the book upon starting out.

It is exquisitely crafted, with each seemingly casual word chosen to illustrate the world into which we have entered.

It is a lonely world full of half-finished stories, abrupt departures, missed connections and deep silences.

"Poor Mr. Wind-Up Bird," lives on an alley with no exits, in a borrowed life that he could never afford to live without the kindness of his uncle.

He's just quit his job, as he has no idea of where to go with his life, but is dissatisfied with its current course.

He lives with a wife that he never seems to really speak to, in a routine existence in which she is often late or absent, or spends her time repressing everything she chooses to say to him.

Murakami meticulously illustrates this quietly painful existence in all of Mr. Wind-Up Bird's movements, whether it is missed phone calls, a wasted dinner, or a frozen statue of a bird never able to take flight.

This sort of language kept me going throughout the book even when I lost my patience with other things.

Mr. Wind-Up Bird's relationship with May Kashara was my favorite part of the book.

She is something of a wise child character, able to distill what Murakami is only hinting at into a more obvious, if odd and seemingly quaint statement.

She is a wonderful character who brings light and movement to the pages, and pushes the plot along, if only in Mr. Wind-Up Bird's head.

I kept looking ahead, if only to find out how long it was until she appeared again.

What I did not like?

The endless repetition of the spiritual mumbo-jumbo, of the prophets who "just know," when something is going to happen, of the endless discussion of the "flow," and various other points of odd zen claptrap that really pushed me out of the story, and the reader entirely out of the reality.

I think a part of the book's charm is that it hovers so close around the edges of reality, and gradually, this book just seemed to leave that behind.

I appreciated the message of a bundle of stories all being woven together, stories that stop and start as people pass through them, are read and discarded as they are of use.

But this went far beyond the borders of surreality into quite a confusing fog.

Perhaps I missed something, but it became very difficult to push myself through this seemingly unrelated part.

That entire middle section with the extended stories of Cinammon and Nutmeg, and the increasing weirdness of Creta Kano, the side stories of Lieutenant Mamiya, etc...

I lost patience with the book and almost gave up several times, because that's how I thought the rest of the book would be.

The introduction of random characters and tales that are really not material to the plot or necessary to the points that Murakami is making.

Thankfully, the tale wound back down into a more manageable area towards the end.

I'm glad I finished it, if only to see the end of May Kashara.

I wish I had loved this more consistently that it turned out that I did.

I wish I could give it 3.5 stars.

I'm sticking with the definition of the stars in terms of "liked it," or "loved it."

I was somewhere changeably in between between depending on the section of the book. (review originally written in 2008, edited since).

I have been wandering around in a peculiarly constructed labyrinth for the past couple of weeks.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is not an effortless read. It demands reflection and concentration while one is reading.

It depicts a picture of 90's Japan with a mass culture that appears to have only become thicker and more difficult to break free from over the past 20 years.

The contrast between individual choices and what society expects from you is beautifully simplified when seen through the eyes of a young man with no perspectives.

Was Mr. Wind-up Bird truly on drugs, and I was merely given a guided tour into a warped mind, or is what I used to recognize as reality just a construct fabricated by authors and the mass media?

I'm still not entirely sure. I have encountered too many clones of Kumiko while pursuing a search for inner peace and reconciliation to truly know her if I were to happen to see the original one.

That is, if Kumiko can be regarded as some sort of universal truth, a mechanism implanted in humanity intended to assist you in coping with all kinds of evil.

Evil that you have witnessed, evil that you have failed to stop, and evil that you have delivered with full force of intent.

The description of the horrible war crimes committed by all parties in the Manchurian war and during and in the aftermath of WW2 serves well in explaining why coping mechanisms are essential to keep a mind afloat and not fall into the abyss of insanity.

Attachment, detachment, and reattachment all occur to the faint sound of a wind-up bird.

But, who winds up the wind-up bird?