So, I thought it was worth reading because there are some interesting aspects to the story but it’s hard to really believe in (much less like) these characters.

Also, when Watanabe needs someone else to talk to the author just makes up a new friend and starts a new plot line. At least that’s how it felt.

And it felt a little strange to have a man writing about such intimate details of women’s bodies, sex lives, and sexual experiences. I’m sure it’s just me, but that felt a little creepy to read. Just didn’t ring true for me.

Not a review, again – just my ‘lil musings on Murakami’s “Norwegian Wood.”

Found it a tad too hedonistic for my preference, but it does have its poignant moments too.

Was amused by how Murakami manages to weave everyday struggles into the novel, even whilst the (adolescent) characters are stumbling through their amoral quests for love and happiness.

Liked the part where the protagonist Watanabe grows fond of his friend, Midori’s dad, as the latter lay dying on the hospital bed.

Read the novel, ‘cos it was recommended by a dear friend (who’s a big fan of Murakami), and also ‘cos i’d kept bumping into the author’s name in reviews & bookstores.

An okay read. :)

The musings about life are thought-provoking. And there are some beautifully-written paragraphs that really struck me. Feels a little surreal as well…cos’ of the events in the book as well as how the protagonist appears isolated from everyone else and is portrayed as a lone wolf. Many a time I felt like I was in his heart and mind…and everyone else may seem near but they are actually out of reach. It’s that kind of lonely isolation that makes it a little hard to read the book because the first-person narrative is so dominant.

The entire story is pretty depressing if you’re looking for an uplifting read. But if you’re not, then it’s worthy picking up the book if you like stories that are slow and emo.

There are so many quotes I love from this book. This is definately one of those books I can pick up again, turn to any page, and enjoy.

Using someone else’s life as a topic for conversation, to make ourselves seem interesting…we’ve all done that at some point.

I often feel like I play Kizuki’s talkshow role when hanging out with others. p.23

I read this when I was on a Murakami spree, so while I remember that I loved it, a lot of it has mushed in my memory with his other books. One of the annoying things about his books are that, since I don’t speak Japanese, I have to read the translations. And they’re not all by the same person, so they read differently. This is something that should annoy me about myself (not speaking Japanese, I guess), rather than about Murakami, though.

I wouldn’t criticise the writing at all, since without any understanding of the Japanese language, I have no idea about how translating to English works, etc. But, yes. The book is all sad and beautiful and doesn’t last for long enough.

Such a sad and beautiful love story.

This is the second Murakami book I’ve tried and didn’t like. I find his style too winsome and the characters in this story just got on my nerves. I know this means I’m a Philistine as everyone else says Murakami is a genius. But what’re ya gonna do?

While the story line taught me several things about mental illness and life in another era and place, I never could get excited about Murakami’s writing style. I found it dry and overly descriptive and simplistic at the same time (maybe I should blame this on translation?).

(completed August 2004)

I almost started reading The Wind Up Bird Chronicles in October, and then I remembered that I didn’t like this book much. I felt that it was cheap pleasure and the language was uninteresting (though that could be the fault of translation).

The most “normal” of Murakami’s work. But not quite what you’d expect from normal. Norwegian Wood is a tragic romance — or a romantic tragedy — which echoes the mystery and longing expressed in the Beatles’ song from which it takes its name. This is the title I give out when I want to introduce a friend to Murakami.

Oh yes, I managed to find the Harvill Press red and green format boxset. Books! In their own little box!

How completely excellent. And as always, Murakami’s writing is just amazing.

More precisely and delicately placed meanderings through the mundane and the extraordinary. Although touching on many of the usual themes and motifs, it feels a lot purer than his later work.

What a beautiful story. Murakami’s writing is so straight-forward, just the kind of writing I love to read. I could have dealt with one less suicide, though. Nevertheless, I am going to continue reading his works.