Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World

I was unfamiliar with Murakami before I picked up Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World on a whim. While I enjoyed the novel quite a bit, it's not what I expected Murakami to be -- although the more I think about it, the more "the End of the World" sequence is what I had anticipated.

Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World is two seemingly unconnected narratives that Murakami gradually draws closer together. "Hard-boiled Wonderland" reads as inspired by Western pulps, although it becomes nearly immediately obvious that this isn't quite the world we currently live in.

"The End of the World", in contrast, is obviously something very different -- the narrator is watching unicorns from afar as the first chapter begins. As the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that something is very, very different -- this isn't just a normal fantasy world, this is something else entirely. As the novel progresses, more and more is revealed about the world of "The End of the World" and it becomes more bizarre and surreal. In contrats, "Hard-boiled Wonderland" stays at roughly the same level of odd -- sure, the modern world depicted isn't quite our modern world, but it's similar enough.

The unifying thread here is consciousness, and what one's mind is doing beneath the surface. The medical procedure our unnamed protagonist is described as having gone through is a tone-setting example of that. The separation of the narrator from his shadow in "The End of the World" is another, as are the twin narratives here.

Recommended.

On the Road

Jack Kerouac's On the Road is one of those novels that I'd assumed would be assigned to me at some point in English class. It wasn't, and I've managed to put it off until now. I'd expected this to be a tedious read; this impression was due to being aware that Kerouac had originally typed the novel on one continuous scroll. Knowing this, I (erroneously) concluded that On the Road was a drug-induced frenzy of a novel, with exclamations galore, vague transitions, and endless hallucinatory passages. On this note, I was very mistaken; the novel is a pleasure to read, and Kerouac's occasional exuberance and general tone is, if not conversational, easy to digest.

Another way On the Road threw me was the fumbling towards adulthood of the characters, the growth shown by the Kerouac figure, in contrast with Dean Moriarty, who Kerouac begins obsessed with, before finally abandoning. Again, I'd thought the novel was about indulgence in hedonism and restlessness, rather than growing towards responsibility as one aged.

Overall, On the Road was like nothing I had expected, given what I'd thought of it, and was an enjoyable and worthwhile read, a worthy slice of Americana, &c &c

As Though I Had Wings

Chet Baker's As Though I Had Wings is billed as "the lost memoir", and is excerpts from his diaries covering from 1945-46, when he had joined the Army at age 16, up through 1963 when he was living and performing in Europe. Baker relates the events in a matter-of-fact, almost disinterested manner. This works well when dealing with the mundane, but when dealing with more exceptional circumstances (soldiers drinking Screwdrivers made with Aqua Velva rather than vodka, his drug use, gigs), it's very odd, and understated.

A second area where Baker's writing tends to the oblique is his drug use. His explanations as to why he was attracted to it are vague, other than "[he] was also the first person to turn me onto grass, bless him; I loved it, and continued to smoke grass for the next eight years, until I began chipping . . ." Throughout, Baker is unrepentant, as he never mentions a desire to stop, nor does he hit rock bottom, although he is often arrested, harassed by authorities, and pressured by parents of a girlfriend to stop using. He never mentions a struggle with the addiction, although he doesn't sing its praises, either -- it's just something he does.

One area where Baker's writing almost picks up is his travails with women. His first encounter is with a girl in the German countryside while he was stationed overseas, and he later meets his three wives. These are recounted in little detail (his first wife introduced with "she loved to be screwed, and I loved screwing her") and big events (marriages, births of children) are barely noted.

Overall, this is an interesting look at an icon in his own words, and it's inspired me to seek out a more comprehensive biography, but it's short and light on detail. Worth picking up solely to get a first person perspective, and because it's such an easy read.