Pinball 1973 (Haruki Murakami)

I read Pinball 1973 as a part of the 2015 Wind/Pinball joint binding.

The setting of Pinball is somewhat confusing if you dive in right after Wind. Wind's brief epilogue launches years into the future, post-Pinball 1973 and pre-A Wild Sheep Chase. Like Hear the Wind Sing, Pinball isn't dynamic in plot. It switches between the unnamed protagonist/narrator and his friend, the Rat. The pacing is very slow, and perhaps a bore at times, but there are profound moments. Philosophy is prominent throughout the book, regarded both reflectively and humorously. After all, the main character has an attachment to Kant, so his philosophical interest isn't a surprising one.

The Rat's story isn't the most interesting venture. Basically, he begins dating a woman, faces a sort of existential crisis, and eventually skips town. In the previous book, the Rat was given basic character traits, but like the other characters in Wind, he's not illustrated with depth. Thus, there's little attachment to him as a character. His story offers a little clarity/backstory for readers of A Wild Sheep Chase, but there's not much past that.

Though there's no true thrill in the main character's story, it's fitting. Throughout Pinball, he's found himself at a state of life where each day seems to just be a copy of the former. To use an excited tone would be inappropriate. For reader who crave action, this would be a massive turn off, but in the context of drifting, Murakami captures the feeling perfectly. Repetition is a large theme, present in the character's descriptions of his daily routine, the identical twins who just appear one day and live with him, and finally, the numerous pinball machines near the end.

Obsession is another major piece of Pinball 1973. The protagonist shares, 

“On any given day, something can come along and steal our hearts. It may be any old thing: a rosebud, a lost cap, a favorite sweater from childhood, an old Gene Pitney record. A miscellany of trivia with no home to call their own. Lingering for two or three days, that something soon disappears, returning to the darkness. There are wells, deep wells, dug in our hearts. Birds fly over them."

That object of his obsession is a model of a pinball machine. The protagonist's intense journey back to his love, the machine, seems to be fueled by extreme nostalgia. He even has a crucial heart-to-heart conversation with the machine from his past. A proclamation of love and farewell.  It's an odd love line, but what can you expect from Murakami?