I always believed books have the ability to snatch us from reality and into a world of our own but I could have never imagined the extent of this ability. I dare say reading this book messes one up; quite literally, turns one into a physiological mess. 
 I felt as though my frontal lobe has been temporarily paralyzed, blocking any sort of rational thinking and logical reasoning. 
 The book is best described as a mind-bending page-turner. It had all the right elements that lured me in and kept me wanting more - all of course except "rightness." 
 It's wealthy with rich dialogues in literature and music that came up out of nowhere but make perfect sense to be there, bold incest and raunchy pages, allegories and metaphors creating mystery that kept me at the edge of my seat - all the while blended with the normalcy of everyday chores which the characters get to do despite their abnormal situations. 
 The characters are all well-placed, and relatable. Each character magically charmed me in, forced me to submit to the world of Murakami. Their emotions felt vaguely familiar, and sometimes spot-on exact. Like with *spoiler alert* (view spoiler)[Horishomo's accepting his own submission to the plotline, or Kafka's fatalism and acceptance of the curse laid upon him (Oedipus myth), and very much like the projections in it, I projected their emotions onto me and my submission to each page. (hide spoiler)] 
 Half way through, I couldn't and wouldn't put the book down yearning for an explanation, and guiltily enjoying it a bit too much. 
 Little did I know, an explanation is not something the book easily hands you. 
 "Better not to try to make sense, he decided, of what basically doesn't make any. Pointless thinking is worse than no thinking at all. " 
 I highly recommend the book to anyone who takes a liking to symbolism and metaphysical realm 
 However, read it at a time when you're willing to have your sanity compromised for a while.