2008 Woodie Awards
Somewhere over the Rainbow
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
Cameron Summers
Issue date: 2/14/08 Section: Entertainment
It's good to be back on campus; I enjoy going to class and working on this paper, even we at the Sentinel have been a little too focused on the Rockhurst Cat in previous years. They (for there is definitely more than one) skulk around campus, only really appearing at night. As any cat owner can tell you, cats can be responsible for some strange things.
That's what starts off Haruki Murakami's 607 page monster, "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle." The story of an unemployed young man, Toru Okada, starts when his cat runs away from home. At the insistence of his wife, Kumiko, he begins combing the neighborhood in a fruitless search for the missing cat. The two of them have a strained marriage--Toru is the embodiment of passivity, doing solely what others wish of him; Kumiko is the breadwinner, working a lucrative job in the magazine industry--which isn't helped by her family's disapproval of Toru. They hardly interact with one another, and shortly after the cat runs away, Kumiko disappears from Toru's life.
Finally forced to act, Toru begins a strange journey to find where his wife has gone. Along the way, his path intersects that of several other strange characters, including the sisters Malta and Creta Kano, a pair of psychics hired to help find the missing cat, and Lieutenant Mamiya, a veteran of the occupation of Manchukuo, whose experiences in Mongolia and at Nomonhan cast a shadow over the plot of the novel. There is one character, however, that stands firmly in the middle of Toru's path to find his wife; Noboru Wataya, Kumiko's elder brother, is a politician, and the polar opposite of Toru. While Toru is passive, Noboru is active, and while Toru is empa-
thetic, Noboru is viciously domineering.
While a good third of the novel takes place with Toru wandering around Tokyo, looking for any sign of his wife, an equal amount of time takes place in a strange dream world--a world that is simply a massive hotel; in the lobby are a number of people, entranced by television screens bearing Noboru Wataya's image.I enjoyed this book. The narration is easy to follow, and despite the book's length, a surprisingly quick read. While reading over six hundred pages written in first person might seem like an impossible chore, Murakami is a master, breaking up the narration with stories told by other characters who each tell the story in their own way.
Next Column: Something completely different.
That's what starts off Haruki Murakami's 607 page monster, "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle." The story of an unemployed young man, Toru Okada, starts when his cat runs away from home. At the insistence of his wife, Kumiko, he begins combing the neighborhood in a fruitless search for the missing cat. The two of them have a strained marriage--Toru is the embodiment of passivity, doing solely what others wish of him; Kumiko is the breadwinner, working a lucrative job in the magazine industry--which isn't helped by her family's disapproval of Toru. They hardly interact with one another, and shortly after the cat runs away, Kumiko disappears from Toru's life.
Finally forced to act, Toru begins a strange journey to find where his wife has gone. Along the way, his path intersects that of several other strange characters, including the sisters Malta and Creta Kano, a pair of psychics hired to help find the missing cat, and Lieutenant Mamiya, a veteran of the occupation of Manchukuo, whose experiences in Mongolia and at Nomonhan cast a shadow over the plot of the novel. There is one character, however, that stands firmly in the middle of Toru's path to find his wife; Noboru Wataya, Kumiko's elder brother, is a politician, and the polar opposite of Toru. While Toru is passive, Noboru is active, and while Toru is empa-
thetic, Noboru is viciously domineering.
While a good third of the novel takes place with Toru wandering around Tokyo, looking for any sign of his wife, an equal amount of time takes place in a strange dream world--a world that is simply a massive hotel; in the lobby are a number of people, entranced by television screens bearing Noboru Wataya's image.I enjoyed this book. The narration is easy to follow, and despite the book's length, a surprisingly quick read. While reading over six hundred pages written in first person might seem like an impossible chore, Murakami is a master, breaking up the narration with stories told by other characters who each tell the story in their own way.
Next Column: Something completely different.
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