Mairona West’s Neighborhood

This was my second book by Murakami. I picked this one up for two reasons. First it's his most popular book in Japan and the book that created his notoriety. Second, it's the only book he wrote that is straight-forward. He said in an interview that his reason for writing this book was to see if he could write a story without magical realism.

This book gave me a better feel for Murakami. In the future if someone asks which book to start with I'll recommend this one.

As in Kafka on the Shore I had a really hard time believing in the characters (they all feel like the same person to me) and caring for them (they feel two-dimensional).

The part that really didn't work was Murakami, a man, writing about female sexual experiences. It just didn't ring true at all. Just one example: two women had sex with one particular man and it was so good they swore off sex for the rest of their lives.

But, as in the previous book, I did appreciate the overarching story. What would it be like to continually know people close to you committing suicide? Or to continually be involved in three-way friendships?

My big girl had her first real trick-or-treat tonight.














She LOVED it. It was hard to peel her off the sidewalk when her little nose became red and chapped and it was time to bundle her up and bring her home. She thought she was the coolest thing ever, strolling from driveway to driveway, holding up her mini pumpkin bag and speaking gibberish for "trick or treat!" She had a BIG "HI!" for every person she passed and wanted to show off the contents of her Halloween goodie bag for them.




She is a busy, busy girl, and she really wears me out sometimes, but boy is life fun with a little one around. I live for days like these :)

What I learned from this sad to disturbing collection of Christmas tales is that Sedaris has major psychological issues with Christmas.

Six in all, the pieces are a mix of essays and short stories. The short stories include baby murder and intentional self-dismemberment.

The essays are not quite as disturbing, but still not what I would call funny. Even Santaland, which is one of the author's most famous pieces, was never one of my favorites. But most people find that one fall down funny. I don't get it.

Maybe I don't get it because I can't join the Christmas -is-the-most-depressing-time-of-year mentality. I mean, it's not like my favorite time of year, but I think we've all become a little too dramatic about how depressing we think the holidays are.

I'm starting to think I'm a freak just because I can accept the holidays as another day, and I don't spend the rest of the year either dreading them, plotting against them, or harassing people who say Happy Holidays as opposed to Merry Christmas. Times are weird.