Chronicles of Strange Birds

This book is so wonderful! I felt like the protagonist Toru Okada, who experienced all kinds of strange things in the process of looking for the cat. Moreover, I particularly admire Okada Hiroshi. He not only saved his wife, but also completed his own redemption. I think of a friend of mine who once encountered difficulties, but like Toru Okada, he faced them bravely and finally overcame them. I feel this book taught me to be brave enough to face challenges in life.

Haruki Murakami is always good at hiding grand propositions in the cracks of daily life. The few days when Hiroshi Okada sat at the bottom of a well are like an exquisite metaphor: when we withdraw from the hustle and bustle of life and sink to the bottom of consciousness, we can hear the ignored voices - the silence behind the disappearance of our wife, the unburied cries in the war years, and even the rusty desires in our own hearts. The cry of the "wind-up bird" sometimes sounds like urging, sometimes like sighing. It is actually asking every reader: How long has it been since you listened to your own heartbeat seriously? What shocked me the most was the entanglement of history and reality. The bloody Battle of Nomonhan and the cruelty of the Pioneer Regiment were not written down as cold historical data, but turned into the scars on Ganakri's back, the confusion in May Kasahara's eyes, and the unspeakable heaviness in the blood of every ordinary person. Murakami did not complain hoarsely, but told us with broken stories one by one: some history cannot be forgotten, not for the sake of hatred, but to prevent the cycle of violence from happening again. Just like the darkness in a well, if you don't look directly at it, it will creep up and drown the daily stability. When I closed the book, there happened to be birds chirping outside the window. Suddenly I felt that everyone might have a well in their heart, which contains unspoken words, untied knots, and even the shadows left by their ancestors. Occasionally jumping down and staying for a while is not necessarily a bad thing - in the darkness, you can see clearly what is really important. As Okada Hiroshi finally understood, whether he is looking for a cat or a wife, in the final analysis, he is looking for his true self who has not been dulled by life. This book is not an easy read, with those swirling metaphors and surreal fragments that suddenly break in, like entangled vines. But long after closing the book, the cry of "wind-up bird" will still ring in my ears, like a reminder: don't lose yourself in daily life, and don't lose the things you should remember in time.

It can almost be considered one of Haruki Murakami's best novels

A thoughtful, well-read and experienced author, I still love to read his meticulous descriptions and the inexplicable power behind the words~ But my absence for one day will not affect anyone, right? Probably no one noticed me leaving, right? Even if I disappear completely, the world will continue to run smoothly and painlessly, right? The situation was admittedly extremely complicated, but one thing was clear: "I was no longer needed by anyone." I looked up at the stars again. Watching the stars calmed my heartbeat somewhat. I suddenly thought of the rope ladder, and reached out in the darkness to find the ladder that should be hanging from the well wall. Didn't even touch it. I carefully and conscientiously touched the well wall in a large area, but still nothing. Where there should be a rope ladder, there isn't one. I took a deep breath, paused for a while, then took out the flashlight from my backpack and turned it on: the rope ladder was gone! I stood up and shined the flashlight on the ground, and then on the wall of the well above my head. I shined a light on every place I could, but there was no rope ladder anywhere. The cold sweat was like some small animal slowly sliding down from the armpits to the ribs. The flashlight fell from my hand and fell to the ground, causing the light to go out. This is a hint. My consciousness instantly splashed around, turning into fine dust, and was assimilated and swallowed up by the darkness around me. My body stopped all functions as if the power supply had been cut off, and the sheer nothingness knocked me upside down. When I saw this paragraph, I was lost and lost, and my brain ached from the resonance;

I finished reading this book in the dormitory during lunch break in my sophomore year of high school. The eternal Chinese knife often hung above my head.

Murakami is at his peak, his writing skills are at his peak, the content and story are well-organized, thinking, themes, depth, and pattern.

Well... The writing is easy to understand and simple.

Very good, a literary classic

Murakami's books are all excellent

Not much to say about Murakami's book, it must be five stars

I recently finished the Birds and Youth trilogy, and I felt quite moved by reading Murakami's books. Maybe it's because I've been losing a lot during this time [rolls eyes]