If on a spring's night an author
It was a cold Monday evening when I found myself in a crowded train station. Almost. The passengers were glued to their mobile phones without the slightest interest in their surroundings. And I imagined myself to be Franz Kafka. I never felt so alone and isolated, as I've witnessed this image on a daily basis. I wanted to get out of it. I would keep on looking at the shadows, as someone might be lurking there. A helping hand would await me. My old man seemed proud of me after I told him about my impression of the Tokyo Metro. But I have read lots of books.
"The Woman in the Dunes" came to mind, of a schoolteacher who wanted to escape the monotony of an academic life. The gods might have read his mind, as a holiday in a fishing community led him to a house several feet below the surface of the sand dunes. It could be reached by placing a ladder. A woman lived there. The hospitality of the inhabitants duped him, where he found out too late that he was sent down the house to produce children. It took him some time to figure out that this was the liberty that he was seeking for years.
I wouldn't be surprised if KÅbÅ Abe was inspired by Franz Kafka's works, as his schoolteacher could be the lonely clerk in Prague. Besides, there was hardly any distinctive difference between the East and West. The locals would be accustomed to the silence, but I wouldn't misinterpret it for something else. They wouldn't hesitate to show their courteous side to the likes of me.
Lost in translation. Not!
Mom was surprised upon our arrival in Odaiba the following day. A replica of the Statue of Liberty would be found beside the chain of shopping malls. The Rainbow Bridge won't be far away. My old man swore that it was a good imitation of New York. It was past dusk, and there was no gust of the cold wind. Yet. A high-rise building could be found in the middle of the malls, where it lighted to different colors. It reminded me of Lego blocks.
This part of Tokyo clearly embraced the West, which was far from "The Asian Saga". I was pertaining to James Clavell's account of the Europeans in Asia particularly the period when the first (white) visitors witnessed the ways of the samurai. I tried to look for one, but I stumbled upon a ballooned figure of Smaug inside one of the malls. Fans of "The Hobbit" would be amused.
I don't mind the locals hardly speaking English, but I couldn't help but wonder about the effects of technology in this part of the world. Maybe I haven't forgotten what I saw at the Tokyo Metro the previous night. They could be Haruki Murakami's inspiration for his works, where his characters would struggle to make sense of their isolation. It might be rooted in Shinto, where the locals were taught to believe that humans were evil which was caused by evil spirits. Could it be the bright lights that would make the night less lonesome for some locals? It may be the mobile phones. I felt hungry all of a sudden. Mom thought it was a good time to look for a ramen restaurant.
