books

Harboiled & Hard Luck - 04.12.24

At first, the title of this book reminded me of Haruki Murakami's 'Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World', which introduced me to Japanese literature a few years ago. I find they have a similar style of storytelling, the fantastic that sometimes borders on the strange or creepy. This book is a smooth read, two stories that, if I had to choose one word to describe them, it would be 'grief'.

The focus on the character's mourning is present in both stories - the first about the protagonist's girlfriend who has already died but continues to haunt her, and the second about a woman coming to terms with the reality that her sister is dying and that there's nothing that can help her. The contrast between grief over a dead and a living person is very interesting, and it shows how different people can react to death, as sudden as it was written by Yoshimoto.

The book centers itself more on the character's monologues than on the action scenes, becoming introspective and philosophical at times. There are things you have to accept that you won't understand, that are simply unusual, like Chizuru's obsession with cleaning and her ability to see ghosts. The protagonist's relationship with her feels like a broken puzzle piece that they both tried to fit together, something held together with tape that was seconds away from falling apart. I wonder if the hiker was a better person, if her life wasn't so affected by her relationship with her mother, if they could have worked it out.

"You still don't get it, do you? She continued. You always think your own life is the hardest, and as long as life is nice and easy and you're having all the fun you can, everything's fine."

The way Hiker's own mind tries to find closure on the anniversary of her former girlfriend's death is something I've found quite remarkable. I've heard of people who, after losing a loved one, often have a dream in which they say goodbye, and it manages to soothe some of the pain they feel. I think the hiker sometimes saw Chizuru as a sort of sad painting, not human, more like a ghost or a vase of wilting flowers, and it made me wonder if their love was real or not. If she was there because she wanted to be, or if she just needed it.

"And I had just looked on. In fact, that was why I liked watching her. Her life was like a pale shadow of life, given form by innumerable layers of anguish."

"I never shed a tear over Chizuru's death. Why not? And why was I so harsh to her earlier, in the dream? I should've been nicer, even if it mean lying to myself."

Their relationship was born out of the hiker's desire for a place to live, a need. What was Chizuru's? Perhaps companionship, I suppose. She seemed quite lonely throughout the story, and her reaction to Hiker moving out was extreme. I think they were both unhealthily attached, even if they didn't realise it.

At the farewell, I didn't understand what Chizuru meant by living a 'hard-boiled life', just the general idea of it - being indifferent to other people's opinions. But I really like the supernatural aspect of it, and how it is treated as mundane by everyone. The whole hotel scene and the hiker's encounter with the suicidal ghost seems to me to be a bit of a reflection of her own life.

"Oh, I'll be fine. I said this earlier, but it's true - you have strange nights no matter where you are. And they always pass. You just have to force yourself to act like nothing is wrong, and when morning comes everything is back to normal."

As for Hard Luck, I found it very sentimental, in a different way but similar to the first story. It's different to see someone slowly die in front of you than to hear it on the phone, I guess. I liked that you can see how this situation affects everyone who knew Kuni, the girl who had the stroke - her sister, mother, father, fiancee, colleagues, etc. The scene where the sister goes to collect all her things from her work building was quite emotional and showed us how we can affect the lives of others, even without knowing it.

"All these chores made me even sadder than the sight of Kuni hooked up to the respirator, eyes staring into space. I mentioned that to Kuni's coworker, and he said through his tears that he understood. Being with you is agonizing, he said, because it feels like I'm with Kuni. The way you talk, your gestures - it forces me to admit that she's gone, he said. You make me remember her.

The figure of Sakai, the brother of the patient's fiancee, was someone who brought catharsis to the sister. He comforted her and made her see things from a different perspective, even if he was a bit odd. The main point of the book is sadness, but I found myself laughing at some points.

"I've got it! He looks like he writes manga! Either that or a chiropractor, I guess."

"I probably hadn't cried that way, with that same degree of oblivious intensity, since I was a baby."

"Today is your crying day. Go ahead and cry."

Is a more detailed grieving process that brings two people together. The guilt, grief, scepticism and hurt are portrayed as a healing bruise - ugly, but getting better with time. Having a sibling, it was easy for me to put myself in her shoes. It reminded me of visiting my grandmother in hospital before she died - how helpless you feel and the sadness that clings to you.

"absent presence"

"Sometimes I would burst out sobbing. One evening when I was taking a bath, for instance, I noticed that the Bulgari animal soap she has brought back for me as a souvenir of a trip overseas had lost its animal shape, even though it had seemed like it would last forever, and it was now just a round blob."

"Death isn't sad. What hurts is being drowned by these emotions."

Eventually the narrator finds peace in accepting her sister's death:

"And it struck me that if anything was a miracle, it was this: the lovely moments we experienced during the small, almost imperceptible periods of relief. The instant the unbearable pain and the tears faded away, and I saw with my own eyes how vast the workings of the universe were, I would feel my sister's soul."

It's also about tragic romance - meeting the right person at the wrong time. It teaches patience, not to rush things when everything is so new and fragile. Let time heal.

"We'll go out every afternoon for pasta, and the sky will be clear, and we'll go and see all kinds of scenery. We'll walk until our feet hurt, and drink wine, and we'll sleep in the same room. We'll look out new windows, and feel different from the way we do now with all that summer light pouring down around us, when it's so hot we can't stand it. I'll wait until then - I won't forget you. I don't want things to end like this, only having known you during this strange time. But right now, I just can't think about the future."

Overall, I really enjoyed this book, but I don't know if I would recommend it to someone who has recently lost a loved one. The writing was profound and very easy to understand and I liked the female protagonists a lot. I will probably read more of Banana Yoshimoto's work after this one.

movies

Dreams - 18.05.24

In May, Dad and I watched Akira Kurosawa's film 'Dreams'. Usually, I'm not one to like movies, or going to the cinema, because I almost always end up feeling like I have wasted precious time, specially when I start early and finish it at noon. But, I liked it a lot - it was certainly very different from any western modern media that I see being popular today - it was more like Miyazaki's pieces, in the way that explored themes like Japanese mythology, nature, war and art.

I think my favorite moments were:

Spoilers

"Sunshine Through the Rain" we do not know if the boy received the kitsune's forgivness or if he had to commit suicide. I think that the fact that the mother kicked him out of the house made it seem, at the same time, more realistic and more fantastical.


"The Peach Orchard" also stood out to me because I've been reading works regarding japanese tree yoikai, so it was very cool to see how they would look visually, without descriptions.


"The Blizzard" was a brilliant move and carefully crafted. The way the sounds of harsh breathing drag longer than you'd expect and the visual impairement makes you feel uneasy, unlike modern day filming who focuses on the actors more than in the nature of the scene. It's like you are there with them, and the despair seems to choke you from the screen. I was surprised by the happy ending, but as Kurosawa said before: "Even in tragic stories, there should be some happy parts."


"The Tunnel" was one of those media moments that nests in your heart for you to remember for a long while. The way the soldier wanted to go back home, the dog with the weaponry, the revelation that only the commander survive from a huge platoon, when he cries, whising he could have gone with them...it was very unsettling. I loved


"Crows", and I guess Van Gogh would have love it too. It was a beautiful show of surrealism and impressionist art. When he entered the first frame I was spechlees by the dedication put on having the setting to be so perfect, I felt I was inside them too!


"Mount Fuji in Red" was that type of dream you get in the night when you wake up from a nightmare with sweat all over your body - like when imagining a zombie apocalise. I think the worst part is the truthfulness of it, and the way they had to abide their deaths, beacuse there was no fight to battle over - the enemy had alredy won.


"The Weeping Demon" show us the aftermath of the last dream, and the future that await us. The way society still has its power even during th end of times was a topic that stuck with me - demons with 2 or 3 horns were on the top of the food chain, and were important people while humans, that is why they eat the weak and lower demons.


Admist all of this suffering, "Village of the Watermills" gives us hope. If we can work towards embracing nature again, perhaps what happened during the previous nightmares won't befall on us. All throughout the movie I felt that Kurosawa captured exactly the reality of a dream, - the boldness you get from being asleep, the fear of it being real, the calm and acceptance that drugs your body... At least it's how I saw it.

People go on about how hard life is, but that's just a lot of talk. Honestly, it's good to be alive. It's quite exciting.

- Dreams, 1990 dir. by Akira Kurosawa

Wolverine & Deadpool - 02.10.24

Honestly, the only scene that really stood out to me was the openning - the fight after Wade unsucessfully tries to recover Logan's body - because of the choreography and the song. I felt that, despite the rating and promisse of dark imagery both on the premisse and the trailer, the movie failed to deliver a deep narrative that could've debated strong topics and more serious dialogue. Maybe I just wish it was a bit more dark, without missing the comedic value.

This is a recurring frustration of mine when I watch the recent Marvel and Super-Hero themed movies - it seems as if they catter to much to the young audience, consequently dumbing down the story with flat jokes and uncompelling characters - like 'Thor: Love and Thunder', which was a painfull experience. The quality of the prodution of movies has, somewhat, declined for the past years - at least when we talk about big names like Disney and Netflix.

Of course, we can still find amazing works nowadays, but I think that the audience has stabilished a new low on what is acceptable regarding effort and quality of media. Take for example the new Live Action adaptations of classics recently, 'The Little Mermaid' and now 'Snow-white'. Not to say that they were all bad or that they are just lazy forms of gaining money, but...they kind of are. I really liked the 'Cinderella' adaptaion when I was a kid, because it was something new and exciting, though, after you see the same thing happening to all of the movies you have already seen before, it just feels repetitive and uninspiring. That's why I am focusing now on non-western media, to see if I can find some diversity in terms of content and new narratives.

Want To

Oyasumi, Punpun

A coming-of-age drama story, it follows the life of a child named Onodera Punpun, from his elementary school years to his early 20s, as he copes with his dysfunctional family, love life, friends, life goals and hyperactive mind, while occasionally focusing on the lives and struggles of his schoolmates and family.

Oyasumi, Punpun is the classic work not to be judged by its cover, or after reading only a few pages. In fact the mascot-like appearance of the protagonist, is nothing but a smokescreen. Asano himself confirms it: I wanted [to] take the readers coming to the book because they thought Punpun was cute, and upset them. (laugh) I wanted to say to the reader,

'Here's a different kind of manga. Look at what kind of depths of reality manga can plumb.'

- Asano Inio

This statement reflects upon Oyasumi, Punpun' solid and monochromatic embossed covers. The first volumes, focusing on Punpun's childhood, ae vivid and bright colours; the subsequent ones progressively lose saturation, until they reach the two last tankobon, the penultimate completely black and the last one completely white. As if the author wanted to represent the downfallen spiral path of depression in which Punpun tumbles throughout the story.

By Vieilocean's [Analysis] Oyasumi, Punpun – Goodnight, Punpun