The following quote about the wind-up bird suggests that it is rather a menacing omen:
“The cry of this bird was audible only to certain people, who were guided by it toward inescapable ruin” (525).
It appears that those certain people have the same blue mark on their faces as Toru Okada and Cinnamon have.
It appears that those certain people have the same blue mark on their faces as Toru Okada and Cinnamon have.
What, in your opinion, is the meaning, or clues to the meaning, of "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle?"
Yes, the mysterious wind-up bird began as a more positive presences "winding up the spring of the world" - keeping time moving almost. Later it is definitely 'menacing' and only heard by certain individuals who are 'marked' or 'doomed'. Those characters in the novel who discover other dimensions in the world and themselves have special abilities, and may see the future or the underlying truth. I'm thinking of Mr Honda, Malta & Creta, Cinnamon & Numeg, then Toru himself.
ReplyDeleteThe blue mark is another 'connection' or link between past and present, and between characters, but perhaps it is also a visible sign of inner transformation. I confess I'm not at all sure about this. One idea I had is that characters sometimes seem to be 'mirror selves'. Kumiko shape shifts into different women (or aspects of her do). When Creta wears her clothes it is like she is wearing her skin. Sometimes her voice is isolated, or she is remembered in fragments, like her naked back as Toru zips her dress, or the tip of her ear (like May Kasahara's ear)... This is both magical and 'true' if you lose someone. Maybe Cinnamon is part of Toru, and Nutmeg's vet father is reimagined (brought back to life) inside Toru's head - so he too is part of Toru. People live both in the real world and in the imaginations and memories of others, don't they?
As to why this is the title, I'm not sure either. It is a "chronicle" because it is a broadly chronological account of Toru's story, but it is no ordinary history and the wind-up bird is no ordinary bird. Maybe the bird is the motif that allows different stories from different times and places to be interwoven as one. He's a unifying device, perhaps.
Yes, I think that it is very true that the blue mark is a "visible sign of inner transformation." The following quote crossed my mind:
Delete"I felt as if I were in the grasp of a foreign substance. It was heavy and stiff, and seemed not to match the contours of my body... I felt uncomfortable" (37).
It brings to light Toru's awareness of something happening to him, whether in the form of a suit or the disappearance of his polka-dot tie. I am not sure about the phrase's exact meaning, but it may be a hint to why he quit his job, though his reasons for doing so are not clear, at least not convincing.
It is true that the title of the novel is interesting. The New York Times explains briefly that the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle refers to "to a weird, unseen bird, whose cry is a recurring harbinger of evil." This is interesting because just like Akshay mentioned in an earlier post, it is a very weird novel. In that perspective, the title then seems to fit the novel perfectly. Since the beginning of the novel, with that phone call, to the fact that most of the novel continues in Toru's dream; so much so that we can't tell whether we are in his dream or in reality. As for the evil, it is clear that things have been happening with (if we can say) "evil intentions". Kumiko's brother raping Creta, Toru's lost wife, etc. One can say that the title does in fact fit the storyline well.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.nytimes.com/books/97/11/02/reviews/971102.02jamest.html
Good review at this link, Shaharazade. Thanks for posting!
DeletePerhaps the wind-up bird, never seen and detected only by its cry, is a metaphor for this other reality that Toru is confronted with. The bird is surreal, in a sense, existent and non-existent at once. In the same way that its cry is real but its existence in the real world is questionable, the mark on Toru's cheek is real, but the source and meaning of it is hidden in the confusion of two intertwined realities. Just as the wind-up bird, Toru is both real and unreal, transcending from one into the other as if they were one. I believe that part of his isolation originates from his indecisiveness, helplessness or inability to distinguish between the two.
ReplyDeletePerhaps, the wind-up bird is a symbolic presence that not only connects those who hear it, but also becomes part of their lives. In other words, perhaps the wind-up bird is more mythical than real, and those who believe in its existence are encompassed by the ominous myths that accompany it.
This is just a speculation, but it may be that the bird really doesn't exist, only its cries do. I was thinking about the statue of the bird in the garden of the vacant house. The description of it is symbolic; it resembles a living thing that became stone by the touch of some cold evil force:
"The bird... had its wings open as if it wanted to escape from this unpleasant place as soon as possible" (14).
As you said, Mrs. Mkinsi, "the mysterious wind-up bird began as a more positive presence 'winding up the spring of the world' - keeping time moving almost." Maybe it has become stone and can no longer wind the spring. It is almost as if Toru's quest is to bring it back to life or something. At least the wind-up bird seems to be connected to the stone sculpture, since, later in the book, when he stands in the dark, bat in the hand, waiting for the man with the knife to move, he thinks this:
"In order to obliterate my presence here, I made myself one with that image of a bird. There, in the sun-drenched summer garden, I was the sculpture of a bird, frozen in space, glaring at the sky" (584).
The garden has a positive connotation again; it is "sun-drenched" and bears a feeling of safety. Toru is in exact the same position as the sculpture, whose only wish is to escape from the current situation, and that unifies them. He, too, is frozen, paralyzed by the threat surrounding him. Toru's wish is for the moment to pass, for the threat to move away, and for the wind-up bird to wind the spring again so that time may move on. It is unlikely for the sculpture to come alive, but maybe the cry of the wind-up bird no longer brings with it balefulness as Toru fights for the wheel of time to keep spinning.
It may be that each and every one of us is wound-up by some greater force once in a while.
I think this theory is very feasible! I especially like the link you've made between the wind-up bird and the stone bird sculpture, and then Toru himself... In the end, I suppose, things have the meanings we give them - and this is true of reading a novel too.
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