The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

Looking back at my review for Kafka on the Shore, I feel like I understand the novel better having more Murakami experience. The WInd-up Bird Chronicle is my favorite book of those I have read. It is less violent and seems more psychological and has a tidier conclusion than the other two novels.

It opens, of course, with the search for a missing feline. The feline belongs to a couple, Toru Okada and Kumiko Okada. An essential bit of information here is that the cat is named after Kumiko's brother, whom is detested by them. Of course there is a cat psychic (Tokyo must be full of such) whom Toru is supposed to work with to find the cat, but it turns out that they (the cat psychics are a two sister team) play a larger role helping Toru to reconcile to his wife's sudden and unexplained disappearance.

Toru's attempts to understand what led to her departure and how to get her to return take up ~600 pages, perhaps not for the faint of heart. There is a significant strand of story concerning the Japanese invasion and occupation of Manchuria which I admit I knew nothing about. What the book does best is to describe the psychological process of understanding using dreams and "real" characters as manifestations of aspects of people. At least, that is how I am choosing to interpret the book.

1q84

A central characteristic of Murakami's 1q84 lies in its place and time. The book begins with Aomame exiting 1984 Tokyo and entering 1q84 Tokyo, though she does not realize the transition immediately since the new universe is only infinitesimally different than the Japan of 1984. Aomame and Tengo alternately narrate each chapter and the connection between the two of them is gradually revealed.  Morality does not restrain Murakami characters. This is a mythic novel (as is Kafka on the Shore) in which nothing can be taken as first presented. Sex is not merely sex, but can serve other purposes, personally and in society. Family may or may not even be family.

Aomame does notice that police are wearing semi-automatic pistols instead of revolvers and thinks that she has simply missed the news. For the reader, this change signifies a more militaristic Japan than that in the world Aomame came from. Later, when Aomame acquires a gun, she is advised that "'According to Chekhov...once a gun appears in a story, it has to be fired.'" Interestingly Murakami does not obey this precept, which he puts into a character's mouth. Neither Aomame's gun, nor the police guns are used, which demonstrates that Chekhov is incorrect. Perhaps Murakami just wanted to demonstrate that Chekhov could be wrong, or perhaps show that reality is more complicated than a Chekhov play. Chekhov is mentioned prior to this, when an excerpt about the Gilyaks from Sakhalin Island is read aloud. It is an ethnographic description of a way of life, and Gilyak interaction with Russian explorers/colonizers. 

One note about the English translation - the title is 1Q84. When it would look better as a lower case q - 1q84. That looks more like 1984, which would be more fitting.

Wildly inventive book blurbs

What is a reader supposed to think when the back of a book such as Kafka on the Shore states that it is "A magnificently bewildering achievement...Brilliantly conceived, bold in its surreal scope, sexy and driven by a snappy plot...exuberant storytelling" (Independent on Sunday). Or that it is "Addictive" (multiple blurbs). Addiction is defined as "The condition of being habitually or compulsively occupied with or or involved in something" (theFreedictionary). Sexy implies that there is some type of sexually attractive person or activity in the book. However, what these two words mean in book blurbs is quite different than what their dictionary definitions, and of the two only addictive might apply to this novel by Haruki Murakami.

The premise is that the fifteen year Kafka is trying to escape an Oedipal prophesy, passed on him by his father, and ends up in a library with helpful, but unusual employees. There are many incidents, some of which involve sex, but none of which could be described as particularly sexy. They are perhaps sad, violent, or disturbing, though.

Another narrative thread follows a rather simple elderly man, Nakata, who has the unusual skill of speaking with cats, and by this means locating the occasional stray feline. The paths of Kafka and Nakata never actually cross, but their stories are intertwined with each other.

The end of the book is quite open to interpretation. There are unanswered questions, and the reader must be willing to either tolerate ambiguity or form hypotheses that are satisfactory.