A Wild Sheep ChaseA marvelous hybrid of mythology and mystery, A Wild Sheep Chase is the extraordinary literary thriller that launched Haruki Murakami's international reputation. It begins simply enough: A twenty-something advertising executive receives a postcard from a friend, and casually appropriates the image for an insurance company's advertisement. What he doesn't realize is that included in the pastoral scene is a mutant sheep with a star on its back, and in using this photo he has unwittingly captured the attention of a man in black who offers a menacing ultimatum: find the sheep or face dire consequences. Thus begins a surreal and elaborate quest that takes our hero from the urban haunts of Tokyo to the remote and snowy mountains of northern Japan, where he confronts not only the mythological sheep, but the confines of tradition and the demons deep within himself. Quirky and utterly captivating, A Wild Sheep Chase is Murakami at his astounding best. |
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Page 300
With his left hand the Sheep Man pulled at the fingers of his black right glove , one after the other . After a number of the glove slipped off , revealing a flaking blackened hand . Small but fleshy , an old burn scar from the base of ...
With his left hand the Sheep Man pulled at the fingers of his black right glove , one after the other . After a number of the glove slipped off , revealing a flaking blackened hand . Small but fleshy , an old burn scar from the base of ...
Page 319
I brought my right hand up in front of my face and wiped my mouth . The me through the looking glass went through the same motions . But maybe it was only me copying what the me in the mirror had done . I couldn't be certain I'd wiped ...
I brought my right hand up in front of my face and wiped my mouth . The me through the looking glass went through the same motions . But maybe it was only me copying what the me in the mirror had done . I couldn't be certain I'd wiped ...
Page 325
I pressed the palm of my hand against my cheek . The face my hand felt in the dark wasn't my own , I didn't think . It was the face of another that had taken the shape of my face . But I couldn't remember the details .
I pressed the palm of my hand against my cheek . The face my hand felt in the dark wasn't my own , I didn't think . It was the face of another that had taken the shape of my face . But I couldn't remember the details .
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LibraryThing Review
User Review - donhazelwood - LibraryThingThis book ... this book ... this book came at me like Kurt Vonnegut on Risperidone telling his version of Moby Dick. A great read - I don't quite know what Murakami was trying to say - but I throughly ... Read full review
LibraryThing Review
User Review - Aug3Zimm - LibraryThingIntellectually interesting but not emotionally engaging. One thing I really enjoy about Murakami is how he portrays a sense of disconnectedness between people. That feeling was more prevalent in the ... Read full review
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