Haruki Murakami, Vintage, 1997
This isn’t the first time I’ve read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. It may not be the last.
Wind-Up Bird seems to me the culmination of Murakami’s prior work. It has all of his hallmarks: a strangely detached narrator, dreamworlds that intersect with reality in nysterious ways, people responding to unseen forces, wells, and teenage girls of questionable mental stability.