25 May 2014

Kafka on the Shore

I don't feel that I understand much of what I'm reading these days. Not the couple Vonnegut books  (While Mortals Sleep is so so good) I've finished, not the Girl Queen manga (was much irritated until I decided to go with couple assumptions and accept that the ending wasn't meant to tie anything up. Time loops are so rarely done well, Tsubasa's was so confusing as well), and definitely not Kafka on the Shore.

The weird thing is, I didn't even realize how badly tied up the loose ends of this book's plot is until I'm googling its reviews afterwards. Nothing is given a logical explanation, yet somehow I feel content. A refreshing change from how I feel about the Girl Queen manga (which is similar to how I feel about Arcana and Ciel, but I'm going to reread Ciel once it finishes to see if I can make more sense out of it). Don't remember how Norwegian Wood ended, but I believe I felt content by it too. The (translated) writing is still as beautiful as ever though.

I feel as if the following lines are very true:
In dreams begin responsibilities.

"Every one f us is losing something precious to be," he says after the phone stops ringing. "Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own hearts we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower cases. In other words, you'll live on forever in your own private library.

"You'd better get some sleep," the boy named Crow says. "When you wake up, you;ll be part of a brand-new world."
You finally fall asleep. And when you wake up, it's true.
You are part of a brand-new world.

and these two just sounds nice
The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future. In truth, all sensations is already memory (Matter and Memory)

Time weighs down on you like an old, ambiguous dream.

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