The photography of a wild sheep has appeared on a magazine. A story about obsessive quests, unfruitful chases, memories of what's been lost, weakness, casual sex, beautiful ears, loneliness, being nameless, the constant of mediocrity, inside demons. And an unexpected supernatural touch.Some facts about reading this book:* It's my first Murakami. After this weird dream I had a few weeks ago, I just felt like reading some of his work. Thank's to The Holy Terror, I decided to start with this one.* Reading the english version was more enjoyable than the spanish version. BY FAR. A real shame, so many things get lost in the translation.* After I finished it, I realized there were no names in this book. How on earth did I manage to not get lost? Ask Mr Murakami. Kind of a genius, that guy.* Once you start reading it, just. Can't. Stop. Even though your brain may need a break.* One third of the book was beautiful, captivating, musical, passionate, almost heartbreaking. "The light of morning decomposes everything." One third of the book was intriguing, dynamic, chaotic, surreal. "Your chaos is also my chaos." And the last part of the book gave me the creeps. I have this weird feeling I can't put down in words. Like watching Donnie Darko or listening to Darkness by Peter Gabriel. "There's nothing worse than waking up in total darkness. It's like having to go back and live life all over from the beginning." " What the sheep seeks is the embodiment of the sheep thought. "* Even though I'm sure there's so much deep meaning that I didn't get, this book felt very accessible. Definitely out of my comfort zone. Not painful at all.* I have no idea what shelf should I use with this book, so I've decided I'll give Haruki M. a shelf just for him alone.