Thursday, December 24, 2009

CRACK!!!

my computer monitor
CRACKS! at night
as its plasticizer
takes flight

Thursday, December 10, 2009

South of the Border, West of the Sun (Haruki Murakami)

This book has been compared to the movie Casablanca. Maybe it's because both involve a man and a woman who love each other but cannot be together (or choose not to be together) in the end. South of the Border, West of the Sun isn't a story of love, though; it is a story of life.

The thirty-seven year old Hajime had quite a pleasant life. He had a wife who loved him and two daughters whom he adored, not to mention two successful jazz bars. A happy family and a fulfilling career. This quiet life, however, changed when he met the beautiful Shimamoto-san.

Hajime and Shimamoto (one given name and one surname; I know it sounds strange, but Murakami-sensei didn't actually give full name to all his characters in this book) were childhood friends. Shimamoto had always been an important person to Hajime, even though he had never met her for twenty-five years. Meeting her again just made him realize how he needed her, to the point that he was ready to leave everything behind just to be with her. So, he was devastated upon finding out one morning that she had left. There's no way to ever find her because she refused to tell him in details about her past and present life. That last time, she disappeared from his sight for good.

Their relationship, I believe, is important not in itself but rather because of what it represents. It represents something lost that you wish wasn't but, were things to be repeated once more, would still be lost anyway. Hajime often wondered what would've happened if he had mustered the will to come over to Shimamoto's house even after they went to different junior highs. But he knew that that wouldn't have been the case; his thirteen year old self would not bother to go to a girl's home two train stops away. (And even though it hurt him to hurt his high school girlfriend, Izumi, he knew that he would've cheated on her with her cousin all over again.)

While we're at it, I should mention the title. "South of the Border" refers to the Nat King Cole's song Hajime and Shimamoto used to listen to as kids. They didn't really understand what the song was all about, so they used to think that there was something amazingly wonderful south of the border. Alas, it's only Mexico. As for west of the sun, it has something to do with Siberian farmer going mental, walking on and on to the west until he collapses to the ground and dies. So, the title possibly implies the concept of hope versus despair.

That's what life is all about, isn't it? You love and be loved, you hurt and being hurt; you hope and you lose hope; you acquire something, you're missing something. The question is: can you deal with it? Or would you rather die?