I am traveling at a leisurely 25 mph, down the winding road that takes me to my home. I look around and see the couples walking, pushing a stroller, kids on their scooters and bikes, a woman walks out of her home and up to her mailbox where she extracts a handful of junk mail, mail that has no purpose other than keeping our postal system alive and kicking; I am in the business of sending out this mail, I know.
I raise my eyes and look around at all the identical homes, the manicured gardens, the flowers blooming in the little patch right outside everyone’s front door, adding curb appeal. There are some signs telling people that a certain property is for sale. It is a good time to buy a home, I am told, but not a good time to sell. Considering the signs have been around for over a year, I suppose it isn’t a good time to buy or sell.
I take in these scenes again as I do every day. On most days my mind is blank as I navigate this stretch on autopilot, but today one thought crosses my mind: what if this is all a grand illusion?
There is nothing novel about this thought; in fact it’s rather clichéd, as thoughts go. Who hasn’t wondered about the illusory nature of all we see, all we experience? Even if in my mind’s eye I see it all rusting and rotting and razed to the ground; the kids in the strollers now pushing walkers or wheezing around in wheelchairs, mailboxes and mail – obsolete, the entire neighborhood reincarnated as something unimaginable, at some indeterminate date in the future, it still isn’t a unique thought.
In fact it occurred to Haruki Murakami, someone whose eloquence I couldn’t even begin to match, in a most intriguing and engaging manner when he wrote Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World, in 1985.
This was the third Murakami book I picked up. I was hooked after the first one – The Wind Up Bird Chronicles; the hooks sank deeper with After Dark; and there is no looking back now, after having read Hardboiled Wonderland. Some common themes start to emerge as one reads this author whose stunning imagination leaves one’s mind reeling with thoughts, ideas and never before considered perspectives.
The fact that this book was written in 1985, and the story was interwoven with technological precepts that were not around until about a decade ago shows amazing prescience on the author’s part.
Article comments