Posts

Showing posts from January, 2013

1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

He excised any hint of ego, shook off all extraneous embellishments, and sent all transparent signs of imposed logic into the back room. He was a born technician, possessing both the intense concentration of a bird sailing through the air in search of prey and the patience of a donkey hauling water, playing always by the rules of the game. It was a free calendar from the bank containing the photos of Mount Fuji. He had never climbed Mount Fuji. He had never gone to the top of the Tokyo Tower, either, or to the roof of a skyscraper. He had never been interested in high places. He wondered why not. Maybe it was because he had lived his whole life looking at the ground. August ended, and September came. As he made his morning coffee, he found himself silently wishing that this peaceful time could go on forever. If he said it out aloud, some keen-eared demon somewhere might overhear him. And so he kept his wish for continued tranquility to himself. But things never go the way you want them