I bought this shortly after New Year's. I can tell you from what bookstore I bought it. I could point out approximately (but not exactly) the rack from which I selected it. I remember the person who accompanied me at the time. I don't know exactly what I was wearing—but it was probably a sweater of some sort with a t-shirt underneath, worn but serviceable dress pants and well polished brown or black shoes. I know that my clothes were fitting well, and were not too snug, because my recent efforts at losing weight had met with somewhat more than moderate success, even though I'd just come through the Christmas holidays. I don't remember what my friend was wearing but it was probably jeans, a t-shirt and a denim jacket. I could tell you a lot of my friend's back story, although he probably would not appreciate it, and in any case it is not relevant to the review, except indirectly. I don't remember whether there was music playing in the store, how many people were in the line up at the cashier, what the woman who took my money was wearing, or whether the bills I gave her were freshly minted or creased and crinkled. I do know that there was a significant discount on the book, which was a factor that contributed to my buying it.

If (in some sort of alternate reality version of our world) I lived in Japan and were enrolled in a creative writing course taught by a doppelganger of Mr. Murakami, I would no doubt flunk out. Spectacularly.