The Wind Up Bird Chronicles by Haruki Murakami is a haunting, surreal story that warps our known reality into a different one entirely. This book made me ask many philosophical questions about my own life – things I didn’t even think about before. Here’s my book review.

We follow Toru Okada as he searches for his wife (and his cat, though separately) and faces increasingly mysterious and confusing circumstances. That might seem very vague to you, but that’s just the essence of Murakami books – things make sense but it’s difficult to put them into words. This book is 607 pages (or, if that isn’t so accurate, 150,000~ words) so it’s lengthy. I will admit, the length hindered my reading process – it dragged a lot in certain places.

We are plunged headfirst into the viewpoint of Toru, who is a disillusioned, detached protagonist who sees the world in a very unique way. He travels through dreams, his own memories and meets many bizarre people on his search.

I know I mentioned it already, but this book is LONG. The tone of this book is very matter-of-fact, even when the strangest things happen. That tone could be both immersive and very boring, depending on your mood. This story has a certain gripping magic that works best when you’re focused.

While I was reading it, I got distracted by random thoughts inside my head, outside noises, texts and notifications, or even alarms in my head reminding me I had things to do. However, if I submerged myself entirely, willing to drown in the words, the dry tone became a different creation entirely. Suddenly, every sentence had meaning. There was a double message in every word, the thoughts in my mind reshuffled by the strange passages.

So, here’s a tip for you – if you’re reading Murakami, find a quiet place without distractions, and give yourself over to the book. The strangest things will start making sense to you.

“Is it possible, in the final analysis, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another?
We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person’s essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?”

Haruki Murakami

I think Murakami’s strongest ability is making the real seem unreal, and the unreal tangible enough to touch. When he leans into this skill, the moments he crafts become so beautiful. Some of my favorite parts are when Murakami just breaks apart reality like he’s cracking an egg. That’s definitely the main charm of his stories – though, for some, could also be his biggest downfall.

If you’re reading this, prepare for a lot of strangeness. Things that don’t make sense are said in the driest way possible. Emotions are examined like characters in their own right. Half the time, you don’t even know what’s going on. Toru’s constant confusion doesn’t allow you any foothold to grab onto, as you slip and fall with him. His regular, mundane reality slowly transforms into something unrecognizable.

If you’re thinking of picking this book up, ask yourself these questions: Are you prepared to read something long? Are you prepared to be confused? This book is very slow-paced and character focused, so there isn’t a plot you can focus on. It doesn’t have much action (though that in itself makes every moment seem pivotal).

All in all, I would say this book is unlike any other I’ve ever read. I wouldn’t say I specifically enjoyed it, as it was quite a challenging read to get through. If you’re looking for something philosophical, slow and immersive that will make you question reality, this is the book for you.