January 02, 2005
Year end
The year-end list I’d like to see is a list of passages you read that were so good you had to find someone to read them to. I read about 20 novels in 2004, but there were only two passages that moved me to stop and find someone to read them to. One was a passage from Dot in the Universe, by Lucy Ellmann. I was on the subway when I read it, and I had to stop and lean in to read it to my companion. I liked that book so much I ended up lending it to everyone I know and insisting they read it, and now the book is lost, so I couldn’t tell you what the passage was to begin with.
The other book that drove me to read some of it out loud to someone was Kafka On the Shore. The book is coming out this month, but a friend of mine gave me an early edition. I read this passage, and for whatever reason it hit me, and I had to find someone to read it out loud to. It’s a conversation between the fifteen-year-old narrator, Kafka Tamura, and his friend Oshima, who is a librarian.
"In the Penal Colony," Oshima says. "I love that story. Only Kafka could have written that."
"That's my favorite of his stories."
"No Kidding?"
I nod.
"Why's that?"
I takes me a while to gather my thoughts. "I think what Kafka does is give a purely mechanical explanation of that complex machine in the story as a sort of substitute for explaining the situation we're in. What I mean is..." I have to give it some more thought." What I mean is, that's his own device for explaining the kind of lives we lead. Not by talking about our situation, but by talking about the details of the machine."
"That makes sense," Oshima says and lays a hand on my shoulder, the gesture natural and friendly. "I imagine Kafka would agree with you." He takes the cordless phone and disappears back into the building. I stay on the veranda for a while, finishing my lunch, drinking my mineral water, watching the birds in the garden. For all I know they're the same birds from yesterday. The sky's covered with clouds, not a speck of blue in sight.
Oshima most likely found my explanation of the Kafka story convincing, to some extent at least. But what I really wanted to say didn't get across. I wasn't just giving some general theory of Kafka's fiction, I was talking about something very real. Kafka's complex, mysterious execution device wasn't some metaphor or allegory--it's actually here, all around me. But I don't think anyone would get that. Not Oshima. Not anybody.
That’s it. Happy new year.
