Okay, so about 7 or 8 years ago, my friend lent me Murakami's Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. I enjoyed it immensely, and it started me on a huge love for Japanese literature in general and a huge love for Murakami books in particular.
A few months ago, I met another avid reader. He asked me what my top 5 desert island authors would be, and I included Murakami on the list. Intrigued, he asked me to recommend a Murakami book for him. Now all of Murakami's books are really good, but Wind-Up Bird is very close to my heart, it's being my first and all. So, of course, I lent him the copy I had.
He loved this book so much that 50 pages into it, he bought his own copy for annotating purposes. His ardor for the book was such that I decided to reread it.
Since beginning to read (on his part) and reread (on my part) that book, I have discovered a strange, deep-underground society that is rabidly in love with Wind-Up Bird.
My new avid reader friend even had a man menacingly approach him, demanding why he was reading the book and where he had got it. Apparently, the menacing man had been giving the book by a mysterious woman (not me) a few years ago. The book changed his life.
Wind-Up Bird is now circulating amongst new avid reader friend's friends (who I guess are also my friends now since I hang out with them too). It is sparking much discussion about storytelling and reality in this postmodern world.
Any other secret Murakami fans? Anything to add?
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Ummmm...just indulged in your latest blogs for the last 25 minutes or so, and I have to say: You are amazing. Let's wrap this shiz up and bind it, shall we? I see a Chesea Handler-esque "Are you there vodka?" memoir in the works (except with recipes and an intellectual spin---would Chelsea be angered by that last part? Nah.)
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Very nice! You are wonderful.
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