The Melancholy of Resistance (Laszlo Krasznahorkai)
Pressing on to get all of Krasznahorkai's novels polished off within an
extended length of time, "The Melancholy of Resistance" is the next
on the list. As with his other novels, again he uses the extended passages of
punctuation-less text to allow you to get deep into the heads of the
protagonists. This style worked best in his "War and War", though
"Melancholy..." is more along the lines of "Satantango" in
that the chapters switch between different individuals, rather than the story
taking place inside the mind of one man alone.
Like "Satantango", a desolate village is the setting. But
instead of awaiting the return of its prodigal son, the village in question
sees a circus move into town; a circus with the unique selling point of a
stuffed, life-size whale. But along with it, the circus sees a ragged bunch
arrive in the village, simply laying in wait, following the circus from village
to village, leaving chaos in every location they venture to. After some time in
the village, the men begin to wreak their havoc, destroying the already
destroyed, leaving the locals simply powerless to resist. A village where
nothing ever happens, the individuals of focus respond differently to the
riotous behaviour: wanting to either hide away; observe it as it happens; or
take it an opportunity to seize power within the village.
Written in the late Eighties, this definitely has more in common with
"Satantango" than his other works in terms of story and setting, though
the revelations towards the end are similar to those of "War and
War"; though is perhaps weaker than both, not that this fact makes it a
poor book. The men of the riotous mob blindly follow, with havoc leading to yet
more havoc, to the point where no one knows as to why they are doing what they
do: A juggernaut that cannot be stopped, though nobody knows as to why.
Days to read: 17
Days per book: 15.2
Dogs and Demons (Alex Kerr)
With his first book "Lost Japan", Alex Kerr showed himself to
be a man in a love-hate relationship with his adopted home country. But while
"Lost Japan" looks at how the things he loves about Japan are slowly disappearing, his second book
"Dogs and Demons", published around nine years later, shows how they
are well and truly dead.
Dividing aspects of Japanese society into different chapters, what
follows is a tirade against all aspects of modern Japanese living, systems,
governance, art, education, landscape; you name it, Kerr will shame it.
Now, I am always a little sceptical of books of this nature; books that
are largely designed to criticise can tend to look for statistics that support
arguments, leading you to wonder as to the source as well as any possible
balanced counterarguments. Lots of numbers are thrown around here, and while
I'm sure these have been thoroughly researched, more balance is needed.
"Dogs and Demons" becomes far too one-sided in its arguments, making
it a little tedious, repetitive and ultimately depressing.
While Kerr's passion of Japanese culture is without question, and his
writing this book is aimed as a wake-up call to the Japanese to correct their
errors, the good points it makes get lost in a stream of figures and criticism.
The book lacks a natural flow to read, piling on extra bits to further the argument
and as such could have been shorter to avoid repetition in places.
But what is interesting is that written many years ago now, with its
criticisms of destroying landscapes, extensive bureaucracy, wasteful education
systems, etc., etc., in criticising Japan for being behind the times, Kerr has
unwittingly almost written the blueprint for many nations subsequently. As
London chooses to build odd-shaped skyscrapers and tasteless housing, in this
sense, Japan was ahead of the times.
The message of this book is clear, and certainly good points are made
along the way, with much that needs to be heeded for things to improve. The
journey, however, is not always so enjoyable.
Days to read: 22
Days per book: 15.3
The Gate (Natsume Soseki)
Every now and again, I feel "Ooo, I should read some Natsume
Soseki." That recently happened again, and choosing between the various
(three in total) different editions of "The Gate" that Foyles of
Charing Cross Road had to offer, I opted for the cheapest.
Sosuke and wife Oyone rent their lodgings in Tokyo. Here they live a
relatively quiet and peaceful life, where little happens and that's the way
they intend to keep it. But while little happens on the surface, there are
undercurrents of a troubled past, disputes with relatives over finances and
Sosuke's younger brother's potential slip into alcoholism, as well as the
hanging cloud of their childless marriage.
The couple try and avoid direct confrontation as much as possible,
always putting off problems that need to be solved until another time. As such
their lives are constantly on edge due to their lack of activity, as tomorrow
will always be there.
As ever, Natsume's working of a story about the inner-workings of the
human soul and how this affects outer lives is expertly crafted, with some
brilliantly written passages that can only suggest that my reading "now
and again" should be "very often." Why put things off until
tomorrow?!...
Days to read: 17
Days per book: 15.3
Sixty-Nine (Ryu Murakami)
After some heavy and/or politically-charged writings about the human
condition, some light relief was called for. "Sixty-Nine" by Ryu
Murakami was one such book. Not about oral sex, it is in fact set in the year
named after the sex act.
Set in Murakami's hometown of Sasebo about a seventeen year old in '69,
there is definitely something of an autobiographical slant to this work.
Written from the viewpoint of a thirty-something narrator looking back on his
teenage school years, this is a tongue-in-cheek memoir full of self-deprecating
humour; with grandiose recalling soon shot-down by the reality.
Murakami's novels can tend to be quite sex-heavy, but despite its name,
"Sixty-Nine" has more innocence to it than its antithesis,
"Almost Transparent Blue". The latter looks at disaffected youth, in
days of hedonism with sex and drugs and rock n roll; whereas the former looks
more at the naivety of everyday teenagers. While wanting revolution, the
characters' motivations are hollow, purely to get the attention of girls in
attempts to lose their virginity; which of course, they do not. There is little
referencing to drug taking; and music is a passion of youth, rather than a
temporary voice for the disenfranchised.
"Sixty-Nine" isn't what you'd call groundbreaking, but is a
nicely written pseudo-memoir that flows easily in the mind.
Days to read: 5
Days per book: 15.2
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