Page 142

My Finishing 50 project has been really good for me.  I'm reading some great stuff and getting a much-needed sense of accomplishment.  I admit I've been picking up the books I've been reading recently, so I pretty much remember what is going on.  Others I'll probably start over from the beginning.  (The Satanic Verses, for example, I was reading about 11 years ago.  Definitely taking a do-over on that one.)

The book I'm reading now (the main one, anyway) really struck me, though, because when I opened it again I couldn't put what was on the page and how I remembered the story together.  Turns out this is a story that a character is telling another, and not central to the main plot or characters of the book - that I can tell, yet - but it's just so beautiful and well-written that it didn't matter.  I was the The Famous Bar, drinking a Gimlet, and opened the book where the marker was at page 142.  This is what I read:

from the distance, riding alone.  He was a Mongol.  The Mongols use an unusually high saddle, which makes it easy to distinguish them from afar.  Sergeant Hamano snapped up his rifle when he saw the figure approaching, but Yamamoto told him not to shoot.  Hamano slowly lowered his rifle without a word.  The four of us stood there, waiting for the man to draw closer.  He had a Soviet-made rifle strapped to his back and a Mauser at his waist.  Whiskers covered his face, and he wore a hat with earflaps.  His filthy robes were the same kind as the nomads', but you could tell from the way he handled himself that he was a professional soldier.

I read that and it didn't matter that this had nothing to do with a guy whose wife was leaving him and the girl who lived a few houses down and the liquor store and whatever else I could remember from the book.  It was beautiful and intriguing and it was so easy to just go on from there.  That, to me, is what makes great writing.  Each sentence propels you, keeping you interested, forcing you to face forward on the journey you make through the pages.

The book, you ask?  You want to read it, don't you.  I knew you would. It's The Wind-up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami.  Yes, Japanese, big surprise.  Translated by Jay Rubin, who should have his name on the cover, too, I think.  Enjoy!

Comments

[Rachele]

Ah, the Wind-Up Bird. What a great book. I remember how totally engrossed I was when I was reading it. If you wind up loving it, another book you might like is Number 9 Dream by David Mitchell. I don't know what other Murakami you've read, but Norwegian Wood is my all-time favorite, and Dance Dance Dance is great too (but read Wild Sheep Chase first). If you want to read something dark but that is one of the best representations of modern Japan I've ever found, try Out by Natsuo Kirino. And check out books published by Vertical, a small press that specializes in translations of modern Japanese lit.

[beverley]

Hi

Have "come over" from your knitting blog. I love reading as well and it is always a toss up between the two time wise. But my best "find" was a book stand now I can do both at the same time. Most knitting patterns have a plain row [ read purl here ] so you can save the eyes on the knitting for the pattern rows.

Only problem I have had so far is that I ocassionaly have to rip out when I have knitted too far!!

Knit on >^..^< er I mean read on!!