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3.81 AVERAGE
3.81 AVERAGE
Maravilloso, amo la forma de redactar de Murakami, con paciencia, poco a poco uniendo los hilos de la historia; la forma como incorpora el realismo mágico en esta historia me gustó demasiado. Al principio no entendía muy bien cómo se podrían mezclar este dos historias paralelas entre Tengo y Aomame pero a medida que avanza el libro e iba entendiendo más está conexión, me pareció asombroso. Mi primera cita con este escritor al que seguramente seguiré leyendo. ❤️
adventurous
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
I do like the way Murakami writes. Sometimes, he leaves things open ended for effect and thats not usually my style/probs would be better wrapped up like is it artistic or lazy. I don't think he was lazy with this tho. I just was not THATTT sucked in, none of the characters really got to me. I do remember the world well tho. also, I typically dismiss the haters when they say he sexualizes women so much unnecessarily, but he lowkey did that in this one. like he mentioned that aomame would be perfect if she had bigger boobs so often. in real life, Aomame does not seem like the type of person who would be thinking about such trivial things. anywayyyy here are some quotes/pages lol that stuck out to me :
"He wore Armani suits and drove a Jaguar, but finally he was just another ant, working and working until he dies without meaning"-->this is how carrie should've felt when she saw big lol
"When you introduce things that most readers have never seen before into a piece of fiction, you have to describe them with as much precision and in as much detail as possible. What you can eliminate from fiction is the description of things that most readers have seen." good little note to writers slipped in
"If you can love someone with your whole heart, even one person, then there's salvation in life. Even if you can't get together with that person."
""there's no turning back now, is there?"
"He wore Armani suits and drove a Jaguar, but finally he was just another ant, working and working until he dies without meaning"-->this is how carrie should've felt when she saw big lol
"When you introduce things that most readers have never seen before into a piece of fiction, you have to describe them with as much precision and in as much detail as possible. What you can eliminate from fiction is the description of things that most readers have seen." good little note to writers slipped in
"If you can love someone with your whole heart, even one person, then there's salvation in life. Even if you can't get together with that person."
""there's no turning back now, is there?"
"Even if we could turn back, wed probably never end up where we started," the Professor said."--the way he writes and words things is so compelling
"Tengo went to the window, parted the curtains slighty, and looked outside. The view from the third floor had nothing unusual about it-no suspicious people lurking there or suspicious cars parked out front, just the usual drab expanse of this drab residential neighborhood. The misshapen trees lining the street wore a layer of gray dust. The pedestrian guardrail was full of dents. Rusty bicycles lay abandoned by the side of the road. A wall bore the police slogan "Driving Drunk: A One-Way Street to a Ruined Life." (Did the police have slogan-writing specialists in their ranks?) A nasty-looking old man was walking a stupid-looking mutt. A stupid-looking woman drove by in an ugly subcom-pact. Nasty-looking wires stretched from one ugly utility pole to another. The scene outside the window suggested that the world had settled in a place somewhere midway between "being miser-able" and "lacking in joy, and consisted of an infinite agglomeration of variously shaped microcosms. On the other hand, there also existed in the world such unex-ceptionably beautiful views as Fuka-Eri's ears and neck. In which should he place the greater faith? It was not easy for him to decide." ---LIKE HELLOOOOOO THE CONTRASTTTT ugh so good
"Where there is light, there must be shadow, and where there is shadow there must be light. There is no shadow without light and no light without shadow. Karl jung said this about the Shadow in one of his books: It is as evil as we are positive ... the more desperately we try to be good and wonderful and perfect, the more the Shadow develops a definite will to be black and evil and destructive.... The fact is that if one tries beyond one's capacity to be perfect, the Shadow descends to hell and becomes the devil. For it is just as sinful from the standpoint of nature and of truth to be above oneself as to be below oneself" DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"The city's earthly lights blotted out the stars as always. The sky was nice and clear, but only a few stars were visible, the very bright ones that twinkled as pale points here and there. Still, the moon stood out clearly against the sky. It hung up there faithfully, without a word of complaint concerning the city lights or the noise or the air pollution. If he focused hard on the moon, he could make out the strange shadows formed by its gigantic craters and valleys. Tengo's mind emptied as he stared at the light of the moon. Inside him, memories that had been handed down from antiquity began to stir. Before human beings possessed fire or tools or language, the moon had been their ally. It would calm people's fears now and then by illuminating the dark world like a heavenly lantern. Its waxing and waning gave people an understanding of the concept of time. Even now, when darkness had been banished from most parts of the world, there remained a sense of human gratitude toward the moon and its unconditional compassion. It was imprinted upon human genes like a warm collective memory. " Beautiful depiction of the universal human connection to the moon. if there is a god, I believe it lies in the moon
and this wondrous explanation of resentment and confusion in growing up with religion: "Ever since she could remember, she had always hated this thing called God. More precisely, she rejected the people and the system that intervened between her and God. For years she had equated those people and that system with God. Hating them meant hating God. Since the moment she was born they had been near her, controlling her, ordering her around, all in the name of God, driving her into a corner. In the name of God, they stole her time and her freedom, putting shackles on her heart. They preached about God's kindness, but preached twice as much about his wrath and intolerance. At age eleven, Aomame made up her mind and was ultimately able to break free from that world. In doing so, though, much had been sacrificed. If God didn't exist, then how much brighter my life would be, how much richer. Aomame often thought this. Then she should be able to share all the beautiful memories that normal children had, without the constant anger and fear that tormented her. And then how much more positive, peaceful, and fulfilling her life might be. Despite all this, as she sat there, her palm resting on her belly, peeking through the slats of the plastic boards at the deserted playground, she couldn't help but come to the realization that she believed in God. When she had mechanically repeated the words of the prayer, when she brought her hands together, she had believed in a God outside the conscious realm. It was a feeling that had seeped into her marrow, something that could not be driven away by logic or emotion. Even hatred and anger couldn't erase it. But this isn't their God, she decided. It's my God. This is a God I have found through sacrificing my own life, through my flesh being cut, my skin ripped off, my blood sucked away, my nails torn, all my time and hopes and memories being stolen from me. This is not a God with a form. No white clothes, no long beard. This God has no doctrine, no scripture, no precepts. No reward, no punishment. This God doesn't give, and doesn't take away. There is no heaven up in the sky, no hell down below. When it's hot, and when it's cold, God is simply there."
"She tried her best to keep busy. She only watched TV twice a day—the NHK news broadcasts at noon and seven p.m. As always, nothing big was going on—no, actually, lots of big events were happening in the world. People all around the world had lost their lives, many of them in tragic ways-train wrecks, ferry boats sinking, plane crashes. A civil war went on with no end in sight, an assassination, a terrible ethnic massacre. Weather shifts had brought on drought, floods, famine. Aomame deeply sympathized with the people caught up in these tragedies and disasters, but even so, not a single thing had occurred that had a direct bearing on her." the world being so desensitized that all the horrible goings on that occur on the news and outside of someones line of vision equates to nothing because its not a personal issue, and just something that pops up every day on the news. like faraway stories of a faraway time in a faraway land
"Why is he doing this? Ushikawa thought from inside the plastic bag. I told him everything I know. So why does he have to kill me? In his head, about to burst, he thought of his little house in Chuorinkan, and about his two young daughters. And the dog they owned. The dog was small and low to the ground and Ushi-kawa never could bring himself to like it. The dog never liked him, either. The dog wasn't very bright, and barked incessantly. It chewed the rugs and peed on the new flooring in the hallway. It was a totally different creature from the clever mutt he had had as a child. Still, Ushikawa's final conscious thoughts in this life were of the silly little dog scampering around the lawn in their backyard." why am I crying???? ushikawas last thoughts being this :(
anyway, im giving this a 3, because with all these amaaaaazing quotes, it still isnt gonna chart for me
"Tengo went to the window, parted the curtains slighty, and looked outside. The view from the third floor had nothing unusual about it-no suspicious people lurking there or suspicious cars parked out front, just the usual drab expanse of this drab residential neighborhood. The misshapen trees lining the street wore a layer of gray dust. The pedestrian guardrail was full of dents. Rusty bicycles lay abandoned by the side of the road. A wall bore the police slogan "Driving Drunk: A One-Way Street to a Ruined Life." (Did the police have slogan-writing specialists in their ranks?) A nasty-looking old man was walking a stupid-looking mutt. A stupid-looking woman drove by in an ugly subcom-pact. Nasty-looking wires stretched from one ugly utility pole to another. The scene outside the window suggested that the world had settled in a place somewhere midway between "being miser-able" and "lacking in joy, and consisted of an infinite agglomeration of variously shaped microcosms. On the other hand, there also existed in the world such unex-ceptionably beautiful views as Fuka-Eri's ears and neck. In which should he place the greater faith? It was not easy for him to decide." ---LIKE HELLOOOOOO THE CONTRASTTTT ugh so good
"Where there is light, there must be shadow, and where there is shadow there must be light. There is no shadow without light and no light without shadow. Karl jung said this about the Shadow in one of his books: It is as evil as we are positive ... the more desperately we try to be good and wonderful and perfect, the more the Shadow develops a definite will to be black and evil and destructive.... The fact is that if one tries beyond one's capacity to be perfect, the Shadow descends to hell and becomes the devil. For it is just as sinful from the standpoint of nature and of truth to be above oneself as to be below oneself" DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"The city's earthly lights blotted out the stars as always. The sky was nice and clear, but only a few stars were visible, the very bright ones that twinkled as pale points here and there. Still, the moon stood out clearly against the sky. It hung up there faithfully, without a word of complaint concerning the city lights or the noise or the air pollution. If he focused hard on the moon, he could make out the strange shadows formed by its gigantic craters and valleys. Tengo's mind emptied as he stared at the light of the moon. Inside him, memories that had been handed down from antiquity began to stir. Before human beings possessed fire or tools or language, the moon had been their ally. It would calm people's fears now and then by illuminating the dark world like a heavenly lantern. Its waxing and waning gave people an understanding of the concept of time. Even now, when darkness had been banished from most parts of the world, there remained a sense of human gratitude toward the moon and its unconditional compassion. It was imprinted upon human genes like a warm collective memory. " Beautiful depiction of the universal human connection to the moon. if there is a god, I believe it lies in the moon
and this wondrous explanation of resentment and confusion in growing up with religion: "Ever since she could remember, she had always hated this thing called God. More precisely, she rejected the people and the system that intervened between her and God. For years she had equated those people and that system with God. Hating them meant hating God. Since the moment she was born they had been near her, controlling her, ordering her around, all in the name of God, driving her into a corner. In the name of God, they stole her time and her freedom, putting shackles on her heart. They preached about God's kindness, but preached twice as much about his wrath and intolerance. At age eleven, Aomame made up her mind and was ultimately able to break free from that world. In doing so, though, much had been sacrificed. If God didn't exist, then how much brighter my life would be, how much richer. Aomame often thought this. Then she should be able to share all the beautiful memories that normal children had, without the constant anger and fear that tormented her. And then how much more positive, peaceful, and fulfilling her life might be. Despite all this, as she sat there, her palm resting on her belly, peeking through the slats of the plastic boards at the deserted playground, she couldn't help but come to the realization that she believed in God. When she had mechanically repeated the words of the prayer, when she brought her hands together, she had believed in a God outside the conscious realm. It was a feeling that had seeped into her marrow, something that could not be driven away by logic or emotion. Even hatred and anger couldn't erase it. But this isn't their God, she decided. It's my God. This is a God I have found through sacrificing my own life, through my flesh being cut, my skin ripped off, my blood sucked away, my nails torn, all my time and hopes and memories being stolen from me. This is not a God with a form. No white clothes, no long beard. This God has no doctrine, no scripture, no precepts. No reward, no punishment. This God doesn't give, and doesn't take away. There is no heaven up in the sky, no hell down below. When it's hot, and when it's cold, God is simply there."
"She tried her best to keep busy. She only watched TV twice a day—the NHK news broadcasts at noon and seven p.m. As always, nothing big was going on—no, actually, lots of big events were happening in the world. People all around the world had lost their lives, many of them in tragic ways-train wrecks, ferry boats sinking, plane crashes. A civil war went on with no end in sight, an assassination, a terrible ethnic massacre. Weather shifts had brought on drought, floods, famine. Aomame deeply sympathized with the people caught up in these tragedies and disasters, but even so, not a single thing had occurred that had a direct bearing on her." the world being so desensitized that all the horrible goings on that occur on the news and outside of someones line of vision equates to nothing because its not a personal issue, and just something that pops up every day on the news. like faraway stories of a faraway time in a faraway land
"Why is he doing this? Ushikawa thought from inside the plastic bag. I told him everything I know. So why does he have to kill me? In his head, about to burst, he thought of his little house in Chuorinkan, and about his two young daughters. And the dog they owned. The dog was small and low to the ground and Ushi-kawa never could bring himself to like it. The dog never liked him, either. The dog wasn't very bright, and barked incessantly. It chewed the rugs and peed on the new flooring in the hallway. It was a totally different creature from the clever mutt he had had as a child. Still, Ushikawa's final conscious thoughts in this life were of the silly little dog scampering around the lawn in their backyard." why am I crying???? ushikawas last thoughts being this :(
anyway, im giving this a 3, because with all these amaaaaazing quotes, it still isnt gonna chart for me
This book goes straight to my 'favorites' shelf. Marukami is a masterful writer, and this book has every element that I love most: extensive character development, unique pacing, a long journey in which I cannot wait to see what happens next. This book is so crazy, I don't know if I'll ever be able to describe it correctly. It contains so many different elements: Orwell's '1984', a little bit of 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' and 'Through the Looking Glass', mystery, romance, suspense... a true literary masterpiece.
Unfortunately, I cannot give it 5 stars because I feel that there are too many unanswered questions by the end of the book, which is fairly frustrating, but I love the book nonetheless.
Unfortunately, I cannot give it 5 stars because I feel that there are too many unanswered questions by the end of the book, which is fairly frustrating, but I love the book nonetheless.
Books 1 and 2 were captivating and imaginative. I loved picturing the world as the narrators' built it. Book 3 however was too slow for me and lacked the magic I felt the rest of the book had. Still a great read!
mysterious
reflective
tense
medium-paced
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
adventurous
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Truly the most bizarre book I have ever read, I honestly don't even have words. And somehow the passages about loneliness really REALLY spoke to me so idk what that says about me, besides the fact that I apparently only read Murakami when at a mental low, but yeah otherwise great book will need at least 3-4 months to process it and will also need to reread it using a physical copy because again, what a weird and bizarre story.
I'm unsure. I want to really dislike the last 1100 odd pages of Murakami I have subjected myself to, I really do.
But I don't.
Murakami cannot write women. And his style is self serving. And the obsession with breasts is odd...
But in terms of tone and style, it is one of the best slow burns I have ever watched unfold in my own hands.
This is a quiet book. A book that seeps through your mind's eye and into your waking reality. It's a quiet, subdued descent into lunacy.
Our grasp of the world as we know it is oh so fleeting. 1Q84 reminds one of that fact.
I cannot say it is perfect by any stretch of the imagination. But I would venture to say that this book is akin to waking up from a dream only to realise you are still deep in the grasps of the subconscious.
Was the tiger always on the left?
What is reality? What are we missing? What really stands to be gained or lost in the world that we believe ourselves to be in?
These characters found their answers in the narrative. Maybe the answers are there for us to find.
But I don't.
Murakami cannot write women. And his style is self serving. And the obsession with breasts is odd...
But in terms of tone and style, it is one of the best slow burns I have ever watched unfold in my own hands.
This is a quiet book. A book that seeps through your mind's eye and into your waking reality. It's a quiet, subdued descent into lunacy.
Our grasp of the world as we know it is oh so fleeting. 1Q84 reminds one of that fact.
I cannot say it is perfect by any stretch of the imagination. But I would venture to say that this book is akin to waking up from a dream only to realise you are still deep in the grasps of the subconscious.
Was the tiger always on the left?
What is reality? What are we missing? What really stands to be gained or lost in the world that we believe ourselves to be in?
These characters found their answers in the narrative. Maybe the answers are there for us to find.
Two characters' lives are shown in alternating chapters, both fascinating and little by little, their connection is revealed. As is the world they live in. As is the new world they start to inhabit. While very long, this was captivating the whole way through.