So many contradictions exist within this infamous novel—I’m not quite sure what to think of it. It would certainly be a racy choice for a book club. Murakami’s writing is beautiful, and the story is incredibly misogynist. I enjoyed the literary devices and evocative scenery, but the amount (and often, the context) of sex seemed gratuitous. I found myself wondering if I should ever again read a book written by a man, while also harboring curiosity about the rest of Murakami’s bibliography. Nevertheless, it is a melancholy coming-of-age story about figuring out how to live and love amid a world of loss.