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audentes fortuna juvat: Memories of Kafka on the Shore
ABOUT ME:
chalkleight
chalkleight
Los Banos, Laguna, Philippines
usually first impression s'kin mataray,masungit and the likes..uhm,sad to say totoo un kc hndi ako msyadong sociable unless there's something in one person that i really like..sbi ng mga close s'kin good listener dw ako but i think im better in ignoring what they are saying pero when i feel n kylangn mo tlga ng mkikinig sau game ako lalo n kung nkakarelate ako s topic mo..'yoko s mga self-proclaimed..those who say a lot 'bout themselves (who cares 'bout them,anyway?) hehehe..trip ko mga humorous kc moody ako..another thing 'bout me is ung temper ko..uhm,it's always at the edge, u knw what i mean..if u nid 2 knw more basahin mo mga testi s'kin kc im sure they say a lot of things 'bout me.. :]
https://www.blogger.com/profile/15896205344583116855
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Memories of Kafka on the Shore
Memories of Kafka on the Shore
Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of storm you need to imagine.
And you really will have to make it through that violent metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it. It will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You’ll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.
And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. that's what the storm is all about.
-Crow, pp. 5-6
Soon, I’d be launched into the rough adult world, and I knew I’d have to be tougher than anybody if I wanted to survive.
-Kafka, p. 10
A dark omnipresent pool of water.
It was probably always there, hidden away somewhere. But when time comes it silently rushes out, chilling every cell in your body. You drown in that cruel flood, gasping for breath. You cling to a vent near the ceiling, struggling, but the air you manage to breathe is dry and burns your throat. Water and thirst, cold and heat -- these supposedly opposite elements combine to assault you.
-Crow, p. 10
In traveling, a companion, in life, compassion…chance encounters keep us going. –Kafka and Sakura, p. 24
What does it matter what it's called? You've got your restrooms and your food. Your fluorescent lights and your plastic chairs. Crappy coffee. Strawberry-jam sandwiches. It's all pointless - assuming you try to find a point to it. We're coming from somewhere, heading somewhere else. That's all you need to know, right?
-Sakura, p. 25
Even chance meetings are a result of karma..that even in the smallest events there’s no such thing as coincidence.
-Kafka and Sakura, p. 35
Slowly, like a movie fadeout, the real world evaporates. I’m alone, inside the world of the story. My favorite feeling in the world.
-Kafka, p.62
Waiting was a boring task.
-p.90
Everything is there, but there are no parts. Since there are no parts, there’s no need to replace one thing with another. No need to remove anything, or add anything. You don’t have to think about difficult things, just let yourself soak it all in.
-p.90-91
But listening to it (D major), I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of – that a certain type of perfection can only e realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect.
-Oshima, p.118
As I sit there under the night sky, again a violent fear takes hold of me. My heart’s pounding a mile a minute, and I can barely breathe. All these millions of stars looking down on me, and I’ve never given them more than a passing thought before. Not just stars – how many other things haven’t I noticed in the world, things I know nothing about? I suddenly feel helpless, completely powerless. And I know I’ll never outrun that awful feeling.
-Kafka, p.142-143
You’re afraid of imagination. And even more afraid of dreams. Afraid of the responsibility that begins in dreams. But you have to sleep. When you’re awake you can suppress imagination. But you can’t suppress dreams.
-Crow, p.145-146
Silence is something you can actually hear.
-Kafka, p.146
You’ve got to look at it this way: this is war. You’re a soldier, and you have to make a decision. Either I kill the castor you kill me. One or the other. You need to make a choice right here and now. This might seem an outrageous choice, but consider this: most choices we make in life are equally outrageous.
-Jhonnie Walker, p.151
You have to look! That’s one of our rules. Closing your eyes isn’t going to change anything. Nothing’s going to disappear just because you can’t see what’s going on. In fact, things will be even worse the next time you open your eyes. That’s the kind of world we live in, Mr. Nakata. Keep your eyes wide open. Only coward closes his eyes. Closing your eyes and plugging up your ears won’t make time stand still.
-Jhonnie Walker, p.155
Kafka, in everybody’s life there’s a point of no return. And in every few cases, a point where you can’t go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive.
-Oshima, p.171
..what I’m getting at is no matter who or what you’re dealing with, people build up meaning between themselves and the things around them. The important thing is whether this comes about naturally or not. Being bright has nothing to do with it. What matters is that you see things with your own eyes.
-Mr. Hagita, p.201
Yup, you’re in a strange position, all right. You’re in love with a girl who is no more, jealous of a boy who’s gone forever. Even so, this emotion you’re feeling is more real, and more intensely painful, than anything you’re ever felt before. And there’s no way out. No possibility of finding an exit. You’ve wandered into a labyrinth of time, and the biggest problem of all is that you have no desire to get out. Am I right?
-Crow, p.253
As long as there’s such a thing as time, everybody’s damaged in the end, changed into something else. It always happens, sooner or later.
-Miss Saeki, p.259
If a pistol appears in a story, eventually it’s got to be fired.
-Anton Chekhov (Colonel Sanders), p.300
…necessity is an independent concept. It has a different structure from logic, morals or meaning. Its function lies entirely in the role it plays. What doesn’t play a role shouldn’t exist.
-Colonel Sanders, p.300
…whether you come to a place to live or to die, the things you do everyday are about the same.
-Miss Saeki, p.304
The people who build high, strong fences are the ones who survive the best. You deny that reality only at the risk of being driven into the wilderness of yourself.
-Oshima, p.329
Taking crazy things seriously – is a serious waste of time.
-Hoshino, p.352
Pointless thinking is worse than no thinking at all.
-Colonel Sanders, p.352
…but until things happen, they haven’t happened. And often things aren’t what they seem.
-Oshima, p.365
But this is something you have to figure out on your own. Nobody can help you. That’s what love is all about, Kafka. You’re the one having those wonderful feelings, but you have to go it alone as you wander through the dark. Your mind and body have to bear it all. All by yourself.
-Oshima, p.365
…It doesn’t matter what form she takes – a living spirit, an illusion – but you have to see her, have to have her beside you. Your brain is so full of her it’s ready to burst, your body about to explode into pieces. Still no matter how much you want her to be here, no matter how long you wait, she never appears. All you hear is the faint rustle of wind outside, birds softly cooing in the night. You hold your breath, staring off into the gloom. You listen to the wind, trying to read something into it, straining to catch a hint of what it might mean. But all that surrounds you are different shades of darkness. Finally, you give up, close your eyes, and fall asleep.
-Crow, p.369
Chance is a scary thing.
-Hoshino, p.380
Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.
-Miss Saeki, p.408
Like I’m being shoved from behind by sine huge heartbeat, I continue on and on through the forest. The path leads to a special place, a light source that spins out the dark, the place where soundless echoes come from. I need to see with my own eyes what’s there. I’m carrying an important, sealed, personal letter, a secret to myself.
-Kafka, p.416
A theory that still doesn’t have a good counterevidence is one worth pursuing. And right now, pursuing is the only choice you have. Even if it means sacrificing yourself, you have to pursue it to the bitter end.
-Crow, p.419
I want you to remember me. If you remember me, then I don’t care if everybody else forgets.
-Miss Saeki, p.460
When you stab the enemy, you’ve got to twist and slash, to cut his guts open. Otherwise, he’ll do it to you. That’s the way the world is outside.
-tall soldier, p.465
If you don’t get it across in words then it’s better not to try.
-Sada, p.480
Everyone of us is losing something precious to us. 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 heart 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 vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.
-Oshima, p.485
Time weighs down on you like an old, ambiguous dream. You keep on moving, trying to slip through it. But even if you go to the ends of the earth, you won't be able to escape it. Still, you have to go there --- to the edge of the world. There's something you can't do unless you get there.
-p.488
