Revisiting Murakami

I really suspect that I have some kind of obsessive complex--I keep dwelling on things. It's crazy that I still think about things that have happened so long ago--I get tired of myself. Blame it on the study of history, this obsession with the past and the dreaded what if question. THERE IS NO BLOODY WHAT IF IN THIS WORLD--just can't seem to get a grip on this reality.

Anyway, on an entirely different note, I am re-reading Murakami's The Wind-up bird chronicle. I remember receiving it in the mail from Yikang. He always sends me such wonderful things. Being very superficial, I loved the book right away because of the cover, and that nice sooth texture of cover. I like running my fingers over the book. Oh, I am shivering in delight just thinking of the cover's texture. Touching it is thrilling in a very strange way. Ok, back to the discussion: the book was such a good read. At times it did seem to go off on tangents, but they are lovely wonderful wanderings within the book and nothing was ruined, although lots of things were unexplained. This time, I am reading it again, to look at what Murakami does to make this book so good. Although I think that a big part of the credit goes to Jay Rubin, the translator. He must have done a spectacular job rendering the story into such a beautiful form in English. There are way too many bad translations of poetries from Chinese and Japanese into English. Even Mangas are often destroyed in the process, but Rubin, I must say makes the book read like a master piece.

Even just the first chapter, right away, I am intrigued. The spaghetti, the mysterious phone call, the ten minutes. But his techique is more than simply intrigue. He uses wonderful sounds, smell, texture. He doesn't just describe, he creates this Murakami world and it is hard not to be drawn into it. The voice is wonderful--quirky in a way that is not alienating. And the word "Al dente". Another bout of shivering with delight. Every single thread that Murakami will follow to weave the story is already planted in the very first chapter.

I am so excited about looking at this book closely, not ot mention stroking the cover over the course of my re-reading. I don't sound like a pervert do I? My sister, my mum, and Lee seem to think that I have a serious potential to become a weirdo. The sad thing is that, I think so too.