The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is the fourth Murakami novel that I have read. The others are Kafka on theShore, Norwegian Wood, and Hardboiled-Wonderland and the End of the World. I would be loath to say which one I liked the best. Probably Norwegian Wood is the greatest departure from the other three, but they all stand on their own and are all equally excellent in my view.
I love the way Murakami blends magical realism and naturalism into his novels and the way he sprinkles his writing with cultural references (mostly Western).
Wind-Up Bird is the chronicle of a man who first loses his cat and then loses his wife. It is partly a detective story as the main character searches for his cat and his missing wife. Along the way, we meet some fascinating characters and find ourselves at the bottom of a deep dark well contemplating the mysteries of the universe.
Some of the themes Murakami explores are Identity and journey to the self, polar opposites, the forgotten war, parallel universes, past and present; marriage and love, alienation, aloneness, and isolation; loyalty and trust, subconscious, and reality, and finally the power of fate.
This is a big long book and perhaps a little rambling, and at times incoherent, but it is pure Murakami and if you have a taste for his writing it is a joy to read.
Throughout your life advance daily, becoming more skillful than yesterday, more skillful than today. This is never ending. Matters of great concern should be taken lightly. Matters of small concern should be treated seriously. Among one’s affairs there should not be more than two or three matters of what one could call great concern.
Do not pursue the past. Do not lose yourself in the future. The past no longer is. The future has yet to come. Look deeply at life as it is in the very here and now. The wise person knows how to live in mindfulness day and night.
Yab-Yum. Mother-father. Yin-yang. The mystical union of the active force (masculine) with wisdom (prajna or the feminine force). A fusion that is necessary to overcome the false duality of appearances in the striving toward spiritual enlightenment.
“Mr. Poe, why don’t you write your poems so that everyone can understand them?” He replied, “Madam, I write so that every body can not understand them.
My Soul She Shrieks
My soul, she shrieks and flings me down
Laughing maniacally
The wind picks up and lifts her dress
Teasing and pleasing me
All is nothingness, so she says
As she pins me to the bed
With a silver shaft of cold, cold steel
She runs me through and through.
BFB
“Mr. Bell, why don’t you write your poems so that everyone can understand them?” I replied, “Madam, I write so that every body can not understand them.
