I finished “Tanz mit dem Schafsmann” by Haruki Murakami last night, wich put me in an interesting mood. It’s the third book by that man I’ve read. I sometimes have the feeling that he keeps writing the same book all over again all the time. Or that he just smashes that one manuscript and assembles something new from the pieces. I like the books, because they are beautifully written. I’m not quite sure what they are actually about, though.