Murakami

I feel like bowing down at the altar of Haruki Murakami. I find myself singing his name – a soft chant, a wind. This weekend I finished reading his novel, Norwegian Wood, with the same kind of satisfaction that I’ve only experienced when I feel like someone truly understands what I am saying. The kind of feeling that makes me want to stand up (fist in air) and say Yes!

The story is nothing so new, I suppose. It is about a young man in love. It’s about love surrounded by death. It takes place in Tokyo during the 60’s and uses the music of the Beatles as nice little focal points of emotion (hence, Norwegian Wood). But it is not a story about the Beatles, or even about a young man who loves the Beatles, but about the way that a life can resonate with the very music itself.

Compared to The Wind Up Bird Chronicle, which is perhaps a more brilliant book, Norwegian Wood is a relatively normal story with relatively normal characters, except that a few of them reside in a glorified mental institution cum commune. Time progresses in a mostly linear fashion, I suppose, but when I was reading the book I was too enveloped in its somber intensity to be too concerned about how one moment would flow to the next. And here I am being vague again. Loving the book without really knowing why. Bowing down at the altar and whispering the name of the author to myself.

When I think about my own experiences at the university and in this past year since graduation, I cannot but help hearing their echo in the world of Toru Watanabe. The ridiculous roommates… the bizarre, earnest conversations… the attempts to be close to people and realizing that you can only get so close. And yet it is more than that. I’ll tell you what – read some Haruki Murakami and then we’ll talk.

The Best Part

I have to agree with Lauren – although we had talked about staying a weekend in Grass Valley and going skiing at Tahoe, I didn’t actually think it would ever happen. But it did. I could say that sailing down the mountains with a serene blue sky over head and a silvery lake below was the best part, but it wasn’t. That sort of thing never is. The best part was nearly being blown off the top of the mountain in blizzard like conditions and saying, quite seriously, that there was no way we were going to make it down alive. The best part was singing ‘Ring of Fire’ with Lauren in our twangiest voices while on the chairlift – and later watching Lauren sail head first into a giant snow bank a la America’s Funniest Home Videos. The best part was being told to stand aside by the paramedics as they brought someone down the mountain in a stretcher… then realizing that the person in the stretcher was Theresa! Theresa looked up and waved and asked me to take her picture, but I was in too much shock. Good God! We’ve killed Theresa, I had thought. But we hadn’t. The powder was perfect and the skiing quite lovely, but honestly, laughing with the roommates on the drive back down the mountain was… the best part.

Resolutions

Last week at work a nice young man (with quite nice hair) stopped by my desk to wish me a Happy New Year and asked if I had any New Year’s Resolutions – I realized that I did not. Not that I usually sit down and write resolutions, but on the first day of January I will often lay in bed, feeling pretty glazed, and make a few mental notes to myself, such as: Do not get hung-over again, go to the gym, be kinder to people, write more and talk less. There are variations on these resolutions (e.g. be healthier, instead of go to the gym, and stop incessantly teasing x person, instead of be kinder, etc.) – but inevitably they are always the same.

Perform a quick survey and you will find that most people’s New Year’s Resolutions are not much different than mine. They are all the same little cupcakes, but with different colored frosting – and most of them are just attempts to redress the wrongs one has committed over the holidays. They have nothing to do with the year as a whole. In fact, they are hardly resolutions at all because you almost never keep them. For example, on December 24th you ate an army of Gingerbread men – resolution: cut back on sweets and get in shape. On December 25th you called your 6 year old cousin Jimmy an asshole in front of the entire family – resolution: be kinder to people.

So how do I get out of this vicious cycle and make some resolutions that really count? (I ask myself as I spout off the same old resolutions to the nicely coiffed young man). One solution is to not make any resolutions at all. That way there is none of the usual disappointment when you realize that you have to make the same resolutions that you made last year. But then again, perhaps the key to making really good resolutions is to make them very specific so that at some point or other during the year I can check them off with a fat, black sharpie. I realize that we’re getting close to mid-January and it’s really too late to be making Resolutions, but I think I’ll try any way.

1. Go to the gym (did not specify how often. went last night. that definitely counts. check!)
2. Go skiing (will be able to check this one off this weekend – score!)
3. When I find myself unemployed on February 3rd do not go apply for a job at Cost Plus (might fail at this one, but if they were all easy, there would be no point.)
4. Write more hand-written letters to the following people: Tracy, Katy, and any person who requests more hand written letters.
5. Give someone a compliment tomorrow that is not related to his or her appearance (what do you think of: Your aura feels really good today! Or, just: You’re nice! hm?)
6. Do not trust other people’s taste in music. I do not care what any of you say, I will never like Abba.
7. Make 2 significant life-style changes that will reduce my use of energy and dependency on foreign oil. Possible option – less blogging. Uses both electricity and finger power. Potentially wasteful and terrorist-supporting activity.
8. Start the Bentley House Society of Unscholarly Activity. Interested? Applications are now being accepted. Weekly meetings will commence in the next few weeks. (Warning: actual formation of this society may be usurped by duties required by All Talk, No Action).