Chubby girls who only wear pink, subterranean creatures that don’t like paper-clips, unicorn skulls and a delight of cooking come together in a mix that could only come from Murakami. Or Franz Kafka if he liked cooking more. There are definite similarities between the two authors in this book, which seamlessly combines an internal and external adventure through the mind of the protagonist – a government sponsored data encrypter who has no idea of how to live a meaningful life outside of his number crunching.
Doesn’t make any sense to you? That’s OK, the story pulls you along with its own insane logic which though it may not provide understanding, does provide high levels of entertainment and page turning excitement. After all, this is Murakami we’re talking about here.