I didn’t hate it, but I can’t say I was too thrilled about this book either. When I pick up a Murakami title I’m expecting something outside the box. A story set in a reality with no rules. Norwegian wood was a book that took a break from this and still told a very engaging story. Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki just wasn’t up to par with that. This story felt like an afterthought compared to the other Murakami Titles I’ve read, I know Murakami is capable of much greater story telling.

Reading this book felt like a culmination of all the leisurely strolls I’ve ever taken in my life

I read half way through this book and felt like I was still reading the first chapter. It felt as though I was waiting for some sort of definitive point or in depth analysis but all I got was anecdote after anecdote and I just had to throw in the towel. I have half a mind to throw my copy in the trash...