If I had a favourite writer, Murakami would have a pretty fair claim to being it - on my three remaining shelves of fiction/plays/poetry, he and Donna Tartt are the only ones whose complete works I've kept, and that's 15 books to three (well technically Rivka Galchen too but that's a grand total of two!) - and I've gotten in the habit of thinking of Hard-boiled Wonderland as my favourite of his, which has maybe, along with its intrinsic vividness, been part of what's kept it so clear in my mind in the thirteen (!) years since I previously read it.
I'm no less interested in phenomenology and subjective experience of the world now than I was back in 2005, and the way that concern is structured into the novel so that it actually forms part of its narrative engine is still impressive. And likewise the pace at which it moves forward, in the interleaved past tense and terser 'hard-boiled wonderland' and present tense and more lyrical 'end of the world' segments, both individually and, as the story progresses, in how they cross over into each other - not to mention the many repeated and mirrored details that echo across the divide between the two stories / worlds / versions of minds and the way they're diegetically explained:
"No, I really like his voice," she said. "It's like a kid standing at the window watching the rain."
I'm no less interested in phenomenology and subjective experience of the world now than I was back in 2005, and the way that concern is structured into the novel so that it actually forms part of its narrative engine is still impressive. And likewise the pace at which it moves forward, in the interleaved past tense and terser 'hard-boiled wonderland' and present tense and more lyrical 'end of the world' segments, both individually and, as the story progresses, in how they cross over into each other - not to mention the many repeated and mirrored details that echo across the divide between the two stories / worlds / versions of minds and the way they're diegetically explained:
"Meaning, I'll keep producing more and more new memories?"
" 'Fraid so. Or more simply, deja vus of sorts. Don't differ all that much in principle. That'll go on for a while. Till finally you reassemble a world out of these new memories."
"Reassemble a world?"
"You heard correct. This very moment you're preparin' t'move to another world. So the world you see right now is changin' bit by bit t'match up. Changin' one percept at a time. The world here and now does exist. But on the phenomenological level, this world is only one out of countless possibilities. We're talkin' about whether you put your right foot or your left foot out - changes on that order. It's not so strange that when your memories change, the world changes."
"Pretty academic if you ask me," I said. "Too conceptual. You're disregarding the time factor. You're reversing the order of things."
"No, the time paradox here's in your mind," said the Professor. "As you create memories, you're creatin' a parallel world."
"So I'm pulling away from the world as I originally knew it?"
"I'm just sayin' it's not out of the realm of possibility. Mind you, I'm not talkin' about any out-of-this-world science-fiction type parallel universe. It's all a matter of cognition. The world as perceived. And that's what's changin' in your brain, is what I think."
"Then after these changes, Junction A switches over, a completely different world appears, and I go on living there. There's no avoiding that turnover - I just sit and wait for it to happen?
" 'Fraid so."
"And for how long does that world go on?"
"Forever," said the Professor.Most importantly, though, the high concept cleverness and structural intricacy are all driving towards genuine emotional stakes, as the 'external' half of the narrative increasingly folds in on itself and it's made explicit that his memory is starting to run backwards as it all moves towards the end, and the nature of the 'inner' world becomes apparent, as well as how its protagonist and his shadow came to its strange Town and the meaning of the choice that he will need to make about departing or staying becomes clear. Also, how just-right the symbolism associated with the end of the world - mind - all is, from the unicorn Beasts to the Wall and the Woods and the passing of the seasons, and the way it's music that proves the crucial, final bridge. Marvellous.
"No, I really like his voice," she said. "It's like a kid standing at the window watching the rain."
