Scan barcode
fhammond_36's review against another edition
4.0
Just finished it. Need to discuss with my bookclub to get my head around what I've just read. sheepless.
matoclip's review against another edition
funny
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
polkadot's review against another edition
dark
emotional
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
haezes's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.75
seanhelvey's review against another edition
4.0
Wow. What a fantastic story! I couldn't put it down, especially toward the end. This author and book have definitely given me a fresh perspective on fiction and story telling. Will probably read his other books.
dyno8426's review against another edition
5.0
Note: If you haven't started reading this book and have noticed The Rat series numbering with its title, making you choose among reading this book right now, or starting with Dance, Dance, Dance, or taking it from the very beginning of the series with Wind/Pinball: Two Novels, I would fairly recommend reading them sequentially in order as they are quite nicely connected.
Reading Murakami's stories is like living a dream. Emphasis on living and not experiencing some scrambled recollection. If you ask me a month later what this book was about, I would most likely be hard at pondering and a struggling me will at best be able to recollect only broken fragments of objects and events, sceneries or only the weird components that iconised the story. Sounds very much like a dream, isn't it? Same goes with most of the core of Murakami's magical realism (which excepts books like Norwegian Wood and Sputnik Sweetheart). Reading any of Murakami's stories gives you both that feeling of perfect lucidity and sensibility, and an immediate feeling of forgetfulness and contradictory realities as soon as one gets out of it, very much like dreams. I realised this that the attractive and valuable thing about such tales, that makes me keep coming back to such stories, is a comfort in the idea of a normalcy, however fragile it may be. As long as you have it, there's a reality that one is grounded upon and there is a familiarity to come back to. Again, very much the same you might feel after waking up and realising that you were witnessing a dream. Irrespective of whether it's good or bad, there's always something ominous and chilling about a dream.
So, in order to preserve my impression of this dream of a wild sheep chase that just happened, I have to get a few tag words out of the way - a sheep, a star, a photograph, perfect ear, a hilltop house, cold snowy lonely days, an ugly cat. Like any other reading, I became aware of couple of things which are characteristic of Murakami's stories, which I unconsciously would have felt as a reader earlier but never did consciously put a finger on it.
The very first thing is his "textured" writing. Everything that he describes with a simplicity of perception seems to have a familiar texture with it. And this textured description comes in his text, his narration and mostly through protagonist's first hand observation. The sunlight breaking over a pasture would be soft but a snow covered one would be glaring. The sounds follow the same sharpness or dullness. Even tactile points would have warmth or scratchiness. It's replete and very much an active component in Murakami's world building. It does not go far beyond the protagonist's mind and physical/mental space. I think this connects with the lucidity of dreams. Dreams may feel real exactly because of these perceived details. The unreality of situation comes in this hyper-real, active and sensory wrapper of familiarity. It makes it hard to distinguish how one escapes from the otherwise real world into this set stage. Or even making it hard to pinpoint when this switch happened. Alternate realities or mirrored consciousness are also exhibited sometimes as a result.
The second thing would be intimacy with the protagonist that gets established for the readers. It starts with very simple things like following the daily routine of the character day-in and day-out, however mundane, however similar-different it might be from ours. Murakami takes care to tell us about what the character does, how and why he/she does it and obviously what he/she is thinking about while doing it. From the character's hunger, sexual desire, physical exhaustion and all the way to idleness define him/her in an intimate way. Almost like living together. Mostly, it carries a lack of intention and inspiration that imparts the automata like nature which the character might be living. It asserts and defines the normalcy of life. And one would guess, prepares the spring board for departure from it into the unreal world. But a characteristic thing about Murakami's protagonists which also attaches the readers is I believe their zen-like state of mind through all the bizarre events that take place. They always display a sense of calm and comfort wherever they might go. Their routines and their peculiar tastes to fulfil their basic human urges stay almost the same if they can manage. They take the unreality of the world that circumstances throws them into with an astonishing acceptance and almost nomadic temperament. Like, somewhere within them, they didn't believe in the reality granted to them from the very beginning. A lack of logic or rationality doesn't disturb them as it would any other average person. Their stability in the turbulent, shifting dream-like landscapes is the exact reason why readers anchor themselves to such protagonists. They become the only reliable compass for the readers to make sense of the characters' and their own world. Sub-consciously, they also evoke the rough philosophical and metaphorical ideology of Murakami - a limitation of human's reason, in contrast with the concrete definitions of reality over which human beings try to failingly impose a container of normal, meaningful life. The exact fragility of this container becomes clear with a haunting realisation of how easy it is to lose our way if reality cannot be certified. Our only respite into this unwilling escape into a territory beyond our control are these characters. While they themselves feel lost occasionally, they eventually see the end and look back at a life which was never their own to begin with. They can only move forward and leave behind what has passed with an emotional detachment that comes after having reached limits of our consciousness and acceptance of our helplessness.
Loneliness pervades the lives of almost all of Murakami's central characters. But it is not toned with sadness or disappointment. They are fulfilled in their own worlds, with a consciousness of their limitations. One of them is a sense and understanding of their world which Murakami takes away from them through weird, inexplicable turn of events. Their journeys to the boundaries of human reason and tectonics of realities make the readers realise one thing - how it reality is defined by our own consciousness. Having said that, it immediately follows that we are essentially alone in our realities then. We cannot share others' consciousness. The difference between living and dying, reality and dream and everything in between is this thing called consciousness. And certainly, it is all in our minds. So, it's easily fooled, altered or displaced. Meta-physically looking, one has to abandon all sense of an authority for reality or an absolutism, since like Murakami's characters, no one can help us define reality except ourselves. This is definitely scary and not reassuring at all. I guess the question that remains then is what would you rather have - a consciousness of this difference, or a denial that comes from ignorance?
Murakami stories show that at least the thought of all of us being alone in this might be of little comfort. And whatever little we might actually possess in terms of sureness, we can enjoy it as we go in the physicality of things that can be perceived and absorbed in the timeline of life.
Reading Murakami's stories is like living a dream. Emphasis on living and not experiencing some scrambled recollection. If you ask me a month later what this book was about, I would most likely be hard at pondering and a struggling me will at best be able to recollect only broken fragments of objects and events, sceneries or only the weird components that iconised the story. Sounds very much like a dream, isn't it? Same goes with most of the core of Murakami's magical realism (which excepts books like Norwegian Wood and Sputnik Sweetheart). Reading any of Murakami's stories gives you both that feeling of perfect lucidity and sensibility, and an immediate feeling of forgetfulness and contradictory realities as soon as one gets out of it, very much like dreams. I realised this that the attractive and valuable thing about such tales, that makes me keep coming back to such stories, is a comfort in the idea of a normalcy, however fragile it may be. As long as you have it, there's a reality that one is grounded upon and there is a familiarity to come back to. Again, very much the same you might feel after waking up and realising that you were witnessing a dream. Irrespective of whether it's good or bad, there's always something ominous and chilling about a dream.
So, in order to preserve my impression of this dream of a wild sheep chase that just happened, I have to get a few tag words out of the way - a sheep, a star, a photograph, perfect ear, a hilltop house, cold snowy lonely days, an ugly cat. Like any other reading, I became aware of couple of things which are characteristic of Murakami's stories, which I unconsciously would have felt as a reader earlier but never did consciously put a finger on it.
The very first thing is his "textured" writing. Everything that he describes with a simplicity of perception seems to have a familiar texture with it. And this textured description comes in his text, his narration and mostly through protagonist's first hand observation. The sunlight breaking over a pasture would be soft but a snow covered one would be glaring. The sounds follow the same sharpness or dullness. Even tactile points would have warmth or scratchiness. It's replete and very much an active component in Murakami's world building. It does not go far beyond the protagonist's mind and physical/mental space. I think this connects with the lucidity of dreams. Dreams may feel real exactly because of these perceived details. The unreality of situation comes in this hyper-real, active and sensory wrapper of familiarity. It makes it hard to distinguish how one escapes from the otherwise real world into this set stage. Or even making it hard to pinpoint when this switch happened. Alternate realities or mirrored consciousness are also exhibited sometimes as a result.
The second thing would be intimacy with the protagonist that gets established for the readers. It starts with very simple things like following the daily routine of the character day-in and day-out, however mundane, however similar-different it might be from ours. Murakami takes care to tell us about what the character does, how and why he/she does it and obviously what he/she is thinking about while doing it. From the character's hunger, sexual desire, physical exhaustion and all the way to idleness define him/her in an intimate way. Almost like living together. Mostly, it carries a lack of intention and inspiration that imparts the automata like nature which the character might be living. It asserts and defines the normalcy of life. And one would guess, prepares the spring board for departure from it into the unreal world. But a characteristic thing about Murakami's protagonists which also attaches the readers is I believe their zen-like state of mind through all the bizarre events that take place. They always display a sense of calm and comfort wherever they might go. Their routines and their peculiar tastes to fulfil their basic human urges stay almost the same if they can manage. They take the unreality of the world that circumstances throws them into with an astonishing acceptance and almost nomadic temperament. Like, somewhere within them, they didn't believe in the reality granted to them from the very beginning. A lack of logic or rationality doesn't disturb them as it would any other average person. Their stability in the turbulent, shifting dream-like landscapes is the exact reason why readers anchor themselves to such protagonists. They become the only reliable compass for the readers to make sense of the characters' and their own world. Sub-consciously, they also evoke the rough philosophical and metaphorical ideology of Murakami - a limitation of human's reason, in contrast with the concrete definitions of reality over which human beings try to failingly impose a container of normal, meaningful life. The exact fragility of this container becomes clear with a haunting realisation of how easy it is to lose our way if reality cannot be certified. Our only respite into this unwilling escape into a territory beyond our control are these characters. While they themselves feel lost occasionally, they eventually see the end and look back at a life which was never their own to begin with. They can only move forward and leave behind what has passed with an emotional detachment that comes after having reached limits of our consciousness and acceptance of our helplessness.
Loneliness pervades the lives of almost all of Murakami's central characters. But it is not toned with sadness or disappointment. They are fulfilled in their own worlds, with a consciousness of their limitations. One of them is a sense and understanding of their world which Murakami takes away from them through weird, inexplicable turn of events. Their journeys to the boundaries of human reason and tectonics of realities make the readers realise one thing - how it reality is defined by our own consciousness. Having said that, it immediately follows that we are essentially alone in our realities then. We cannot share others' consciousness. The difference between living and dying, reality and dream and everything in between is this thing called consciousness. And certainly, it is all in our minds. So, it's easily fooled, altered or displaced. Meta-physically looking, one has to abandon all sense of an authority for reality or an absolutism, since like Murakami's characters, no one can help us define reality except ourselves. This is definitely scary and not reassuring at all. I guess the question that remains then is what would you rather have - a consciousness of this difference, or a denial that comes from ignorance?
Murakami stories show that at least the thought of all of us being alone in this might be of little comfort. And whatever little we might actually possess in terms of sureness, we can enjoy it as we go in the physicality of things that can be perceived and absorbed in the timeline of life.
lukemc's review against another edition
Reread- still probably my second fav murakami book. I remember the whale penis chapter being my fav the first time around, but it didn’t hit as hard this time. Absolutely loved the dialogue w/ the chauffeur. Got taken out of it towards the end but the ending regained my trust and wraps up really well. The protagonist crying in the last paragraph is a great moment to me. Touches on industrialization of Japan, loneliness, identity
apinkshirt's review against another edition
adventurous
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0