I liked wind a lot more than pinball (3 and 1 stars respectively). Both read like brief novel opening ideas/impressionist sketches of ideas. In wind, it works. The reader is left with a nice impression of college and late night bars in 60s Japan, a sense of melancholy and longing, and in general you get a glimpse into some of the beautiful ways Murakami's writing later developed.

In pinball, the main idea sketched out is... The narrator sleeping with two twins he can't tell apart who live in his apartment for no reason and basically act like naive children/furniture? I know Murakami doesn't have the best track record when writing women but for fucks sake. Pinball was a chore to finish because of that alone, and the only real redeeming part was the quality of the prose. The man can write, and has written some great stuff. This isn't one of them.