I’ve been an aspiring Murakami fan — by aspiring, I mean I could really get into his oeuvre if I had a bunch more time for fiction (sigh) — ever since our good-excuse-for-some-martinis-in-the-East-Village book club ran with “Hard-Boiled Wonderland and The End of the World” (1993) back in, I think, ’96. (Dar, Steve, that about…
