Kino - Haruki Murakami - translated by Philip Gabriel
- short story published in The New Yorker 2015
He simply waited patiently for curious people to stumble across this little backstreet bar
am I of value
am I worthy of notice
Like dry ground welcoming the rain, he let the solitude, silence, and loneliness soak in
is this my only somewhere
my nowhere important
Happiness? He wasn’t even sure what that meant
do I need others to make me happy
what, in fact, do I need to make me happy
The most he could do was create a place where his heart—devoid now of any depth or weight—could be tethered, to keep it from wandering aimlessly
tethered
my self-imposed prison
where I am safe
really safe
and then
the rains come
????????
Kino by Haruki Murakami
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
When worlds coincidentally collide, surreal, unsettling circumstances can emerge. Kino withdraws from his unfaithful wife's life, but it seems that there is some enigmatic agenda beyond his choice; a power beyond his power. Kamita, reading quietly in Kino's bar, a stray cat and two men in conflict become Kino's drive to explore the inner darkness, the feelings he has ignored for too long. The orbit of his other world still spins and wills to connect. With Kino as our guide, Murakami quietly follows the shadows of loose threads in our social fabric and lets us become absorbed in our own personal questions and reflections. Murakami's story deftly digs far deeper than mere narrative.
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