Only, like, ten books or so in this world have actual MAGIC. They are entities so far out of this world they indeed resemble pariahs, belonging to their own orbit and following their own sets of rules that it is your utmost privilege to read them, to find out for yourself why it is that they stick to the collective psyche of the entire literati.
This profound take on life and reality is so complex, so incredibly well-orchastrated, thought-out... a new one for the list of tops. The main character, perhaps because he is Japanese, is just so humble and unegotistical... you cannot help but fall for him: his plight is your own. As he uncovers clues and goes deeper and deeper into a world that is found in the minutae of reality (like the darkness of a well, the acquaintances he makes during the day, the dreams broken by the alarm clock...) we too figure out the puzzle. By page 300 I knew this was a deep, enticing masterpiece. During this time, I told Liana: "With an elegant ending, this book gets ***1/2. With a comprehensible (un-open-ended) finale: the full ****." By the end you dont care what did not fit, what was extraneous, what was altogether confusing. "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" is an experience so fulfilling, so gosh-darn incredible I felt like I was melting into the background with zen-like precision, like our main man. A true treasure of the avant garde!