
Reviews

First Murakami book and I read this without knowing about the prequels. Very good

I love how Murakami describes night vibes in this book

Bla bla bla bla bla bla quanto sei carina Yuki bla bla bla bla l’affascinante Gotanda bla bla bla bla bla bla bla “sei un tipo davvero strano” bla bla bla bla bla bla quello che faccio è spalare la neve bla bla bla bla bla cosa vorrà dirmi Kiki bla bla bla bla bla le dita di Gotanda lungo la schiena di Kiki bla bla bla bla l’uomo pecora esiste per me bla bla bla bla *citare un evergreen* bla bla bla bla bla “Cucù” fece Mei.

Another Murakami obsession

Murder mystery meets magical realism. And most of all, more Murakami for me to read.

So clever and creative, I did not read the sequel but the book was still so captivating and coherent. Recommended by the loml americanbaron and so worth it

3.5 stars

It was an interesting book, but it left me with so many questions. I found the I-could've-slept-with-her-but-I-didn't-but-I-wish-I-had main character quite insufferable and his interactions with Yuki, a thirteen year old girl, were sort of creepy. Guess this will be my first and last Murakami book.

Bazen donguyu tamamlamak icin basladiginiz noktaya donmeniz gerekir. Bu Donus yolunda zorluklar ve gercekten basiniza gelmesini istemediginiz olaylar ile karsilasirsiniz. Iste tam olarak da ana karakterimizin yasadiklari ve zaman zaman cevap vermedigi sorular ile herseyin zamani vardir diyerek yoluna devam etmesi. Klasik bir Murakami eseri sade ama guzel.

It’s tough to describe a Murakami novel without simplifying it to the point of absurdity. Like you could say Dance Dance Dance is about a bad writer solving murders with the help of a 13-year-old psychic, and you’d be right, kind of. But this novel, like other Murakami I’ve read, is so much more (and less?) than you think. On the surface, not much happens — the unnamed narrator travels, hooks up, hangs out — but there’s a supernatural mystery humming along beneath it all. This is my favorite kind of detective story: an ordinary person (i.e. not a cop) stumbles into something strange and feels compelled to work it in a sort of shaggy adventure. There’s a lot of humor and Lynchian dreaminess in this version of that story, and I’m here for it. I read and really loved 1Q84 last year, and while I think that book is better, they certainly share a lot of DNA. Murakami’s writing is so direct and accessible that it makes the grounded elements feel very real and all the weird shit just sings. I really dig it.

I really wanted to enjoy this book more than I did. The first half of it was thrilling, the other half wasn't as compelling as Murakami's books usually are. It was good, fine. I liked it. I didn't love it. To be frank; I didn't find the main character to be too interesting and although I liked him to some degree, reading Dance Dance Dance was mainly enojyable, to the degree in which I found it enjoyable, whenever Yuki was around. The story reminded me too much of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle as well, despite the fact that the plot of these two novels aren't too similar. I don't know. It was fine.

3.5

“Es igual que una raíz: por pequeña que sea la parte que aflora a la superficie, si tiramos de ella, no para de salir. La conciencia humana vive en hondas tinieblas. Es enrevesada, compleja… Hay demasiados elementos incomprensibles. Sólo cada uno conoce sus verdaderos motivos. Incluso puede ser que no los conozca.” Este me ha gustado mucho. De verdad. No sé qué tiene Murakami pero en este libro lo ha hecho muy bien, ya no me enfadé nunca ni nada por los personajes, aunque a veces resultaban un tanto planos. En general lo que hace de este libro algo especial es el modo de poner las cosas. No sé explicarlo bien, todo queda un poco difuso como el final de este libro. Y así tiene que ser. Por supuesto que no habría leído este sin antes haber leído los que le anteceden si hubiera podido, pero espero algún día encontrarlos todos y leerlos.











Highlights

The next thing I knew the room was flooded with silence. Waves of helplessness washed over me. I needed to rouse myself. I closed my eyes and counted from one to ten in Spanish, ending in a loud finito and a clap of the hands. My own spell to conquer helplessness. One of the many skills I'd acquired living alone. Without these tricks I may not have survived.