The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
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message 51:
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Ricki
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rated it 4 stars
Sep 25, 2008 11:47PM
Not so strange I think, Abigail. I had the feeling Marukami was contrasting Japanese and Western influences within the book. Japan is in its consumer products a very Western country - it grew up after the war basing its survival on producing for our needs. I wonder if there isn't another theme there or whether it is just an aside in the book.
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I was reading this a little slower schedule than you all...but I am so glad I did.I read this close to the time it was published...and read a couple of his other books as a result.
I was very glad for the re-read...and especially happy for many of the comments here and past reviews included. Yulia, your perspective really really helped me with my feelings about this novel.
I loved it but I also found a lot of sadness associated with the stories. So many people found this novel charming that I always had a hard time finding reconciliation with my feeling of nightmares with the novel. Of oppression...in the stories, in the overlapping sense of identities.
I love all the war memories...and I also think what two of the reviews (one NYTs"
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage...
said about the author being close to Thomas Pynchon and Don DeLillo is very important...and I feel that Murkami is such a peer to those writers.
I read the first posts here and intro by Yulia...just before I started my re-read...and it opened up the book for me so much. About the oppressive feeling of the society. I was relieved in a big way...to ehar the idea of fragility in the cultures...in the breakdowns...because there is a pop culture impression of perfection in the Japanese arts and culture and society. To see under the surface and an anthorpological understanding and sociolgy almost...really highlights what Murakami is up to in this novel.
For me, even the first time I read the novel...the "wind up bird" was always a very literal description.
I think the idea that Theresa says about it being "time" is valuable and true...but it is also the spirit of Toru. He is a wind up bird. And for me I think of the caged bird sing...what would happen if a bird was a wind up? Well, if it was flying and the gears wound down...it might fall and crash. What if the gears wound down as the bird was singing? The song would fade away.
So for me, the wind up bird fits into the ideas in Pynchon and DeLillo of a wound up consumer society...of an oppressive society and how we might all be wound up toys and what does freedom from being part of the cogs in a wound up society look liek? How does one attain freedom or try to live it?
In Murakami's novel it seems we need to go through our past, our dreams and even our marriages to see if we have lived for the society's pressure and cultures matrix...or if we have our own feelings and choices?
In this way even if "nothing happens" or everything happens...and Toru doesn't seem to "progress" it's ba heroic act because the notion of "progress" is challenged in the novel...everything about our contemporary culture seems to be chllenged in order to find freedom? Or rather THINK and FEEL free?
Backtracking a bit to Brooke's question about rape in Japan (message 49), I've been thinking about this, wondering how to articulate what sex means for Japanese women without generalizing or asking my Japanese friend outright what rape means to her. I've gotten the sense, through my friendship and through my readings that there are two very distinct approaches to sexuality in contemporary Japan. One is very conservative and still holds true to the notion that it's inappropriate to even kiss your boyfriend in public and in front of others. Those who maintain this standard hold their public image very highly, even among strangers, and so my guess is, if a rape occurred, they wouldn't speak of it, would blame themselves, or would tell only their closest friends in private. The other faction is aware of the power of their youth and allure to older men and makes a business out of it, through compensated dating (sex for a pricey handbag, say) or by working at a hostess club, where they're paid to talk to men, but are often asked by these men if they're interested in heading off to a local love hotel . . . So for these girls and women, rape is probably more a fact of life, but still nothing to tell your family, only your friends. And then, the division between the two categories is hardly impregnable and a young woman who cared so much for seeming pure one year can take on a hidden life in a hostess club the next, all without her family or closest friends ever knowing.
I don't know if that answered anything. I just wanted to convey how, although Japan is hyper-modern in many ways, its patriarchal society does keep women's rights at bay.
Candy, your message was so powerful to me, about questioning who winds up our springs, ourselves or society or family expectations, in many cases. It stirred up so many thoughts of my own about what I've been going through these past six months, after I came to the realization that, all my life, even after college, it's been my mother who's been winding my springs. And since that epiphany, I haven't made a bit of "progress" on my book; I've been a vegetable, in stark contrast to my former super-goal-oriented self. But what I'm coming to accept is that most likely I need this time to mourn the loss of my wound-up life, to be able to find my own motivation for writing or doing whatever it is I want to with my life. Not a fun time, but necessary, it seems.
No, this isn't a happy book, but it does have it's joy, which is why I've always connected to it: the underlying sense that, no matter how depressed you are, your experiences can still be sprinkled with wonder, serendipity, and beauty. No, this doesn't mean the depression's over, but it does mean life has an unidentifiable value. And in this, there's hope, not a sappy chin-up hope, but a twinkle still. May represents that twinkle to me.
There is joy in this novel for sure.Meanwhile, Yulia, it sounds like you've had an incredible opportunity in the last six months. You know, a lot of attention is given to various phases in our life. For instance any new beginning often has a ritual or celebration with it. An ending does too...perhaps a ritual, or paperwork. But in between beginnings and endings are germination or seedling or nuetral "resting" times...and those don't get the kind of flashy attention beginnings or endings get. Yet...germination is where rebirth occurs and opportunity and the saving and regeneration of strength. I think "being a vegetable" is actually a germination and rebirth phase...and we all need those and can't always see how beneficial they are to us transforming and learning and growing. We should have a glass of champagne for "being a vegetable" sometimes. Because later...is a butterfly.
I'm starting to think that for all of Toru's "flow" with the world even his food choices go against the grain of tradition (like when he quit his job with no plans). I suppose I meant strange in an interesting way, not an incomprehensible way. I always find details like food preferences to be really interesting for character development. Some people outright ignore those common day things that can make characters idiosyncratic. Hell he couldn't even be bothered to buy new shoes until the ones he was wearing were falling off of his feet. I don't think it was a money issue, his character just didn't notice a lot of common place things.
Yulia, it sounds as if you, like Toru, have been sitting at the bottom of the well for a while. I hope that, at the right time, the gift of water flows in for you, taking you to new and better places. As you said so beautifully, no matter how depressed you are, your experiences can still be sprinkled with wonder, serendipity, and beauty.
Thanks, Candy and Mina. In my usual impatience to be productive always, I asked my therapist if I should force myself to get back to writing. He said I shouldn't force anything: I should let myself drift on, as I've been doing. I suppose that's what Toru instinctively knew he had to do: to have no set deadlines or plans. But it's so contrary to the Japanese salary man's 12+ hour work-day mindset. I'd have to know more about Zen Buddhism to be more confident about this theory, but does it make sense to see Toru as representing that ideal, if only by chance, coming to grips with post-war Japan?
I think it makes a lot of sense, Yulia. I don't know much about Zen Buddhism either, but I do know that personally, I instinctively need times of respite and quiet. When I have a problem to solve, chewing on it incessantly doesn't work. If I let myself zone out and be quiet for a while (sometimes a long while), eventually solutions come to me, quietly. I think freeing yourself from stress allows your subconscious to work on its own. My most creative solutions come to me that way.
I think that is what Toru is doing in the well...and in the novel. He's sitting on all this history and social customs...in this way, is where I see a lot of the healing or joy in the book.
Finished this last night. Must admit, Candy, I didn't see a lot of joy in the book but definitely a going forward throughout it. The Kumiko that he at last understood certainly had her own problems to work through and the final part about the Lieutenant and the skin man was something I wasn't expecting. I did think that Murakami tied in these various strands beautifully and as someone who hasn't read any of his other writing, it certainly made me want to remedy that fact.
Ricki, I'm so glad you finished this! Read Candy's original comment (message 54) to see her own concerns about people regarding this as a joyful novel. No, it certainly isn't a light or care-free read, though it is sprinkled with whimsical details, which make Murakami such a treasure to read, regardless of his bleak subject matter. If you're looking for another Murakami after this, I'd strongly recommend South of the Border, West of the Sun, which has fewer diversions than Wind-Up Bird and tells a compelling story that is very easy to connect with. Meanwhile, the more sci-fi, dual-reality charms of Murakami are on beautiful display in Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. My third favorite of his is Dance Dance Dance, which is a sequel to The Wild Sheep Chase, but can easily be read on its own with no introduction and is very satisfying. His short stories in Elephant Vanishes are also delightful.
I finally finished this 2 nights ago. This is certainly a book I would not have read, but for the discussion here! I do not enjoy science fiction as a rule and, frankly, did not enjoy this as much as everyone else in this discussion. I wonder if I was in my own well -- I seem to have missed a lot of connections and am not really sure what we are supposed to think happened in this story! SPOILERS - IN - QUESTIONS
There were so many alternate realities here that I wasn't sure whether Murakami expects his readers to fix on one thread of the novel as "real" or whether we can just take our pick of all or none as reality! Maybe he does not actually answer any of the following in the novel, but just in case....
1) What exactly is Toru doing for those women?
2) What did his brother-in-law (NW...can't remember his name!) do that made him appear so evil to other readers? (Yes, he came across as plenty creepy in his conversations with Toru, but not necessarily evil. And I didn't have any other example of something concrete that he did, which was so bad. NB: I consider anything Kumiko said/wrote to be pretty unreliable. In fact, much of what she said, via computer, may have actually been written by Cinnamon, right?)
3) Somewhere along the way, people pointed to May Kasahara as keeping Toru connected to the real world. But did anyone else find her story wholly unreal? Not the part about being kind of wild and inadvertantly killing her boyfriend, but the part about being paid by a wig company to survey levels-of-baldness of commuters and then going off to work in a wig factory "far, far away" (is Murakami deliberately echoing Star Wars here?) staffed only by women waiting for their Princes Charming to rescue them. And the "school" she was in sounded very much like a psychiatric treatment facility. And the duck people praying for Toru? Ack! I found May just as unreal, and possibly a figment of Toru's imagination, as I found the ridiculously-named Malta and Creta and Nutmeg and Cinnamon.
4) How did the WWII stories connect with Toru? Or is Murakami not concerned with connection?
Thanks! I have been enjoying this discussion!
Mary Ellen
Yulia, I didn't realize that Murakami had a collection of short stories. Thanks for the heads-up! I am interested in seeing how his style works in the short form - it sounds intriguing.
Yulia,Thank you for the recommendations. I'm about to order a book for my in-person book club and will add one of the Murakami ones.
Mary Ellen - I wouldn't have considered May as keeping him connected to the real world. In fact I let go of any ideas about a 'real' world whilst reading the book except inasmuch as all our own ideas of 'reality' are touched by and touch our psyches. The book seems to float between or rather among worlds.
Ricki, I'm so glad you'll be trying another Murakami for your in-person book group. Any of those I mentionned should be great for a discussion. Mina, he has three story collections in fact. In my opinion, Elephant Vanishes is his strongest (Including the amazing "Second Bakery Attack" and "The Window," among many other classics), but After the Quake, all stories obliquely dealing with the aftermath of the Kobe earthquake, includes the lovely story, "Super Frog Saves Tokyo." And Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman, though disappointing in general, does include one of the first stories he ever wrote, which happens to be one of his best, "The New York Mining Accident,m" and one of his most recent stories, "Where I'm Likely to Find It," which first appeared in the NYer and is an absolute gem.
Mary Ellen, I'll get back to your questions as soon as I can, point by point, unless others offer answers in the meantime. In truth, I never regarded this as a sci-fi novel, simply surreal.
Yulia, I agree, "surreal" is a much better description! Ricki, I probably paraphrased the comment (and can't remember whose it was) regarding May. I often enjoyed her voice, though as I wrote before, I was disturbed by the well incident when she wanted Toru to think about death. And I agree that there is no line in this story that seemed too "real" to me. Even the WWII thread seemed a bit surreal, though less so than some of the others.
There was discussion a while back of the characterization of the Japanese as victims in the WWII thread. The initial segment, the horrific skinning incident, the Japanese were pure victims and the Mongolians presented as particularly cruel. If that were all Murakami had written about WWII, then he would be following the typical (from what I've read) Japanese take on the war. The segments about the massacre of the animals and, most strongly, the massacre of the Chinese deserters balanced the first section somewhat, though none of the Japanese were presented as cruel -- almost the opposite. Was this book literally banned in Japan? If so, that shows a frightening refusal to take any responsibility for the country's past (as well as incredible restriction on free speech).
Mary Ellen
In regard to Mary Ellen's questions:1) I think it wasn't what Toru did for these women, but what the women did for him (as sexist as that may sound if taken out of context).
2) Good point about Kumiko's emails being unreliable. I had those same questions about their true author when I read iy as well. I'm not sure it can be answered unless I finally attend a Murakami reading and ask.
As for Noboru Wataya's being evil, other Constant Readers and I agree that his role as the epitome or representation of evil is unsubstantiated in this novel, much more told than shown. Yes, he's awful in controlling his sister, but it's very arguable who is the most malevolent character in this book.
3) I can't recall in particular who, if anyone, suggested that May connected Toru to the real world. In fact, what I liked so much about her was how unconventional she was, which came off as brave on the outside, though I know she was struggling internally. But the fact is, a lot of things that happen in Japan can simply seem unreal to those not brought up in their world (including me): including vending machines that sell girls' panties that are supposedly used, but really only rubbed with tuna oil, or TV shows in which a kid is told his parents are dead and contestants bet on how long it will take before he cried, or outfits and book bags that can be converted to look like telephone booths, for the protection of children and women. So is May atypical? Definitely. But did she strike me as otherworldly? No. That's just my opinion, though.
4) As for how the Manchurian campaign, the veteran, and the Watayas all connect, I don't have a pat answer, but the reviewer whom Happyreader helpfully quoted conveniently does have all the "answers," however controversial those answers may be. See the original review in Message 27. Others in Constant Reader may have their own interpretations of the connection, but whether or not Murakami succeeds in making the connection he chooses to make is questionable. Certainly, Murakami isn't always concerned with connecting all the dots: that's one of the thrills of following him where he takes his characters.
Finally, someone (I forgot who) asked if the book was actually banned in Japan. I'd never heard it had been banned and just did a search but could find no evidence of it. Of course, I'm able to read onlyEnglish sources, so others may definitely prove me wrong.
And as for whether Murakami presents a too-generous portrayal of Japanese soldiers, I'd first question if the same isn't done by a majority of writers when portraying the atrocities of war by their enemies. Yes, Japanese soldiers are infamous for the lengths they'll go for their country, but maybe it's best to see Murakami's take on the cruelties of war not as a refutation of what has been noted by others but as another perspective or an addendum to that perspective. Either way, Murakami is notable for even discussing the actions of Japanese soldiers during the war, which is still a very taboo subject. So he was being brave in his own way, however negligible that courage may seem from our Western perspective.
the 'banning' thing was me - I have a feeling that I meant that the discussion of the Manchurian war that had not been talked about in Japan, not the book and just didn't reread my post - not an uncommon occurrence.
Since it seems this discussion has come to a close, I just wanted to thank everyone for their great insight and thoughtfulness in exploring the world of Murakami.
Thank YOU, Yulia. Without your insight I wouldn't have got nearly as much out of this book.
Yulia, your research and experience has completely altered my feeling and intuition about this novel. Thank you so much. Little nagging questions I had are resolved...you rock!
Great job, Yulia!
I was frustrated by Toru's passivity too. I felt as if I were reading a book about zombies, people who sleepwalk through life. Thus the sections where characters related the tales of wartime horrors were actually a bit of a relief for me from the zombie-narrative, because at least people were doing and acting in them.The people I know who love this book tend to be David Lynch fans (the filmmaker). There were times in both this novel, and in Lynch's movies, where it seems like weirdness is happening just for the sake of being weird. There's nothing wrong with that if that's what you like. I like my novels to have more of a purpose. Maybe there is an underlying purpose here; maybe Murakami is describing Japanese society in ways I don't understand.
I think I would have enjoyed the novel more as a young person, when surreal and dreamlike states held more appeal. That said, I did become somewhat involved with the characters, insofar as I hoped Toru and Kumiko would be reunited, and I was happy that Mackerel the cat returned. I would have liked an explanation for why the cat was initially named Noboru Wataya, considering that both Toru and Kumiko hated Noboru. I also felt sad that Kumiko felt she had to get an abortion.
