But it doesn’t make sense…
The dog’s eyes were as glazed and lifeless as glass beads congealed from swamp water. (p. 122)
Now I like Murakami for his simple writing style and great story, but I love metaphor and simile and when I come across a good one, I melt like chocolate on a sunny dashboard. I get the picture Murakami is drawing here, swamp water would be murky yet translucent. But lifeless? Swamps are notorious for being chockfull of life. Why there are more living things in one drop of swampwater than there is likely to be in a square inch of fresh air.
I’m perhaps a bit overwrought lately and thus not as forgiving and generally all-around nice as I normally can (and hope I can remember to) be.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology