August 26, 2005
Post-quake anxiety
I've just finished reading After the Quake by Haruki Murakami. On a whim, I decided to try and find The Wind-up Bird Chronicle in the library, but apparently the computer didn't tell me it was checked out. The only other book of his they had that I hadn't read yet was this slim, black, hardcover volume that had some weird splotches on the otherwise solid black cover. I checked it out that day and finished it the next.
Before I even finished reading the thin book of short stories, I knew I would have to re-read it. There was subtlety in some of the stories that my otherwise distracted mind couldn't quite tease out; meaning behind the fantastic pictures and tales that Murakami paints onto an otherwise bleak background of concrete towers, snaking locomotives and smoky night skies.
Mark joked that I might be a Japanophile the other day. Being accused of such doesn't necessarily bother me, but sometimes I do wonder that about myself. I listen to a lot of Japanese music, and one of my favorite authors as of late has been Japanese as well. I'm currently watching a Japanese drama, and I do indeed hope to go to Japan again in the near future. I am more interested in Japanese culture and Japan than the typical college student, and a goal I hope to achieve in the near future is to become fluent in Japanese.
Japanophile though? I don't think the statement is fair. I want to say something along the lines of "Obsession is a word that lazy people use to describe the dedicated", but that's probably not too fair either. I'd like to think that even talking about this implies that I've yet to fall into the abyss of blind obsession with another culture, but who really knows. In any case, a joking comment from a friend hardly warrants a wordy defence, though it still is cause to think about the kernel of truth behind the humor.
After the Quake is a collection of slightly long-ish short stories that deal with the reactions of various people to "the Great Hanshin earthquake", referred to simply as "the Kobe earthquake" within the stories. As fuzzy-minded as I was during the reading, I failed to think much about the related themes of each of the five stories and instead simply read them and allowed myself to view the world on their terms.
Some might say that that's really the whole point of reading, but yet I still find that analyzing the author's intent and thoughts through reading the story is essential to understanding what it is about the story that reaches out to you, the reader. Maybe too many English classes have destroyed my ability to simply read a book without thinking of these things.
If someone were to ask me what impression the stories left on me, I'd have to say that they made me sad, yet hopeful. Murakami stories are rife with people who've made poor choices or are in terrible situations and yet continue on. They live "lives of quiet desperation", wishing for happiness of some sort and never really being able to reach it. I suppose it's the humanity of the characters that appeals to me; I empathize with them strongly, and can imagine my own thoughts in a similar situation. Their plight is horrific, and yet life WILL go on. There would be no hope without regrets I suppose.
And so, After the Quake deals with hope, delusion, courage, God, sex and even a bit about earthquakes. As readers, we begin to read the book with thoughts about the earthquake in mind. It killed thousands and caused something around a hundred billion dollars in damage, the "costliest natural disaster to befall any one country" says the Guinness Book of World Records. However, much as with 9/11 here, there are many who say they are largely unaffected by the quake.
Each of the protagonists is asked whether they had any relatives in the Kobe area; whether the quake has personally affected them in some way and in turn each of them responds "not really". In some sense, After the Quake posits that no life can be unchanged by such a catastrophe, such a tragic loss of lives. No matter how their minds rationalize it, the protagonists are desperately trying to cope with the events of the earthquake. Murakami delves into the quiet lives of these mostly average folk and for just one moment makes you feel like people might be more human than you might give them credit for.
