Today, I started reading Haruki Murakami's early work "A Wild Sheep Chase" again and found that Haruki's novels have certainly built this myself firmly, within my thought system. I was 16 years old when I read his "Pinball, 1973" for the first time, and since then, I have enjoyed reading almost all of his works (I even searched for the library to read his rare articles.) I can't see why I have been attracted by his works - even though he must be great (at least, for me.)
In my opinion, Haruki's writings teach me a certain "distant" feeling between the world and me. Yes, in a way, his novels have the same pattern - the main character has a certain difficulty in living this world, his/her life. Therefore they have been attracted by some strange creatures or outsiders themselves. But, the main character can't get into both of those two worlds - this normal ground world, and that parallel heavenly world. In a way, (of course, according to my understanding,) the main character stands on the border of those two worlds. But, finally, he has to decide to choose the one to live...
When I started joining Haruki Wonderland, I just enjoyed his well-made storytelling technique and, therefore couldn't make any logical analysis from his works like this (in a way, I was able to be soaked into the vast sea of his marvelous imagination.) Now, although I admit that there must have been many authors who are greater than Haruki (among recent writers, I choose Kazushi Hosaka and Toshiyuki Horie,) I still choose his works to add a certain spice to my life. Yes, his works are still actually stimulating my life, and provoking my thoughts.
Oh, I remember - when I was in Haruki's romantic, poisonous world, I could never imagine that I would write my articles in English like this. with a nostalgic feeling, I remember my memories in the 1990s - Paul Auster's novels, Haruki's "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle," and various masterpieces of Brit Pop and Alternative rock music. Our life goes on, and as Bob Dylan sings, the times are changing certainly.
