Psychophant's Rants
28.2.10
Flood of words
[If you have not read Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami, read it instead of this. You will enjoy it more, and this may spoil a bit of that enjoyment]
I wonder how long this urge to string words together lasts, considering my track record. Several weeks, if I keep feeding the words in, as it has been years since I read so much.
It is interesting the trigger was Murakami's Norwegian Wood, a book I have given as a gift twice already. Then I buy a new copy, reread it, and change another tiny bit.
It is weird how a Japanese book can be so universal, how many people do identify with the characters. Also, for me, it is uplifting, which considering how half the characters end up killing themselves. Oops, I better add a note at the top, for people who have not read the book.
With some exceptions, Murakami's narrator is almost the same guy, an introverted jazz lover in his thirties, who gets caught in extraordinary events yet gets through by being himself, even if he changes along the way.
Although my thirties are way behind me, I have always felt close to the way of thinking of the characters. And lots of people must do, too, considering his success. Which may explain why the author took the success so badly. If there were millions of people that felt like I did, I might get anxious. And just in the same book, Nasegawa says: "If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking." Suddenly his book was the one everyone was reading, and everyone was thinking, for a while, as he did.
Having people think as I do at times, however, does not worry me. It would cut down with explanations, often. There are enough misunderstandings already. So I hope to find more Murakami lovers around. It will make me feel better. ¶ 1:08 PM
[If you have not read Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami, read it instead of this. You will enjoy it more, and this may spoil a bit of that enjoyment]
I wonder how long this urge to string words together lasts, considering my track record. Several weeks, if I keep feeding the words in, as it has been years since I read so much.
It is interesting the trigger was Murakami's Norwegian Wood, a book I have given as a gift twice already. Then I buy a new copy, reread it, and change another tiny bit.
It is weird how a Japanese book can be so universal, how many people do identify with the characters. Also, for me, it is uplifting, which considering how half the characters end up killing themselves. Oops, I better add a note at the top, for people who have not read the book.
With some exceptions, Murakami's narrator is almost the same guy, an introverted jazz lover in his thirties, who gets caught in extraordinary events yet gets through by being himself, even if he changes along the way.
Although my thirties are way behind me, I have always felt close to the way of thinking of the characters. And lots of people must do, too, considering his success. Which may explain why the author took the success so badly. If there were millions of people that felt like I did, I might get anxious. And just in the same book, Nasegawa says: "If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking." Suddenly his book was the one everyone was reading, and everyone was thinking, for a while, as he did.
Having people think as I do at times, however, does not worry me. It would cut down with explanations, often. There are enough misunderstandings already. So I hope to find more Murakami lovers around. It will make me feel better. ¶ 1:08 PM
27.2.10
Tracking the Magi
The year's holidays, a rail trip through Europe, became almost a religious pilgrimage.
My wife has always had a particular devotion (or weakness) for the Three Wise Kings, the Magi, that presented the baby Jesus with presents. They are very popular in Spain, anyway, as in Spain it is them who bring presents to children in Christmas, much more fitting gift-givers than that interloper, St. Nicholas.
She has always wanted to visit Cologne's cathedral, not only by the interest of the building, but because it houses the (supposed) relics of the three, and it is the only cathedral devoted to them in Western Europe. So when we started proposing the stops for the trip, Cologne was there from the start, as well as the starting point (Milan) and end point (London), as Inter-rail does not work in your own country, so we had to fly out and back.
In Milan things started to get weird. We had been a couple of times in Milan before, but we still like to walk around the city centre. Checking the recommended sights, I realized we had not seen the Portinari chapel, a Renaissance wonder just outside the old city walls. The walk, under the sun of the Ferragosto, was a bit harsh, but what are a couple of kilometers under the sun for a hardened tourist? So we reached the church of St. Eustorgio, a hidden wonder, full of surprises. The unexpected one was the sepulcher where the Three Kings came from Byzantium. The oxen that pulled the cart (in the IVth century) picked that spot to stop and refuse to move, so the church was built on site.
Then, on the XIth century, the bishop of Cologne, the most powerful of the Ecclesiatical fiefs in the Holy Roman Empire, besieged Milan on behalf of the emperor. As payment for doing it, he asked for the relics of the Three Kings, for the new cathedral that he was planning to build.
We learnt all that in St. Eustorgio, some five hours after we had reserved tickets to Cologne the following day. Also that in 1904, after centuries of begging, the German Church had acceded to return "some small pieces" to their original sepulcher.
After this sign, and the compulsory visit at the cathedral, we started noticing signs everywhere, mostly the Star, of course, even more so in Berlin, but even in Copenhagen's coat of arms.
Lacking some information turned a trip into something magical, the kind of complicity that has you laughing at a graffiti or feeling some special connection, just because we want to see links everywhere. And because magic exists, if we allow it, in the way we experience the world.
26.2.10
Music as an emotion reminder
Haruki Murakami has the narrator of his novel, Norwegian Wood, get dizzy when he hears the Beatles song of the same name, twenty years later.
Not twenty years later, but I have already mentioned (years ago) how certain songs bring out certain strong emotions when listened, as long as I do not use that power often. Like a bright stone that gets dull as you hand it, so you watch it for a while and then let it recharge.
After I finished re-reading the book, instead of sleeping I started to think about what songs had meaning, and what kind of meaning they had. And then, the curse of the technical obsessive, I had to go through the whole music library to check for emotional responses.
Soon I will have some new compilation of music from that exercise in sleep deprivation, but also, maybe because this blog is at times little more than a list of songs, I started to fill up with words. Words that I wanted to put down, unsuited to the quick response and impermanence of Twitter, and too general for personal correspondence.
That brought me back here, with no idea of how long will I last this time before wandering off again. But there is also a song that reminds me of the pleasures of writing for myself. Because, like dancing, this works mainly when you do it as if you were alone. Narrow daylight. ¶ 11:32 AM
Haruki Murakami has the narrator of his novel, Norwegian Wood, get dizzy when he hears the Beatles song of the same name, twenty years later.
Not twenty years later, but I have already mentioned (years ago) how certain songs bring out certain strong emotions when listened, as long as I do not use that power often. Like a bright stone that gets dull as you hand it, so you watch it for a while and then let it recharge.
After I finished re-reading the book, instead of sleeping I started to think about what songs had meaning, and what kind of meaning they had. And then, the curse of the technical obsessive, I had to go through the whole music library to check for emotional responses.
Soon I will have some new compilation of music from that exercise in sleep deprivation, but also, maybe because this blog is at times little more than a list of songs, I started to fill up with words. Words that I wanted to put down, unsuited to the quick response and impermanence of Twitter, and too general for personal correspondence.
That brought me back here, with no idea of how long will I last this time before wandering off again. But there is also a song that reminds me of the pleasures of writing for myself. Because, like dancing, this works mainly when you do it as if you were alone. Narrow daylight. ¶ 11:32 AM
