Pinball, 1973

Pinball, 1973
Haruki Murakami
Alfred Birnbaum (Translator)
124pp

If you're going to read Murakami, you might as read them all, even the one's whose only true value is as evidence of the growth of the young artist. And so, I dipped into his second ever book.

Pinball, I would say, is an improvement on Murakami's first book, Hear the Wind Sing. It also is a shows some of Murakami's bag go tricks in their simplistic early forms. These include: the psychological changes signaled by changes of scene; characters completely unrealistic next to those with depth, the former seeming to simply be the embodiment of something needed for a time, and they disappear when that need to overcome; and the overwhelming fear of being left.

I say "tricks" because at this point (I still have some of Murakami's heavier books to come) I feel like his skill lies more in his playing with reaction than with deep artistic skill. Maybe there's no real difference, or at least both are equal in value, but I just can't help but feel like I'm often not following characters and learning from them, but instead am watching the left hand while the right one does things behind my back.

Besides these remarks, this book doesn't really require too much description. It is a double story of sorts, one of our unnamed narrator living with twins and the other of the rat preparing to leave the bar that he has spent many years wasting away the time. To be honest, many other details have slipped away in the few days since I finished the book and all that remains are my feelings.

To finish this short review, I found the short book enjoyable would recommend it to anyone finished the rest of Murakami's books and waiting on Killing Commodore, but not an example of his best work.

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