Norwegian Wood is written by Haruki Murakami. And I read the version translated from the Japanese by Jay Rubin. The story is filled with an atmosphere of sorrow and ache. It is mainly a story among our protagonist Watanabe and his four female friends, including two lovers. All of those four women in this novel have a tragic life. They have been treated unfairly and lived in unease, which made m...
I was thinking about myself. I was thinking about the beautiful girl walking next to me. I was thinking about the two of us together, and then about myself again. It was the age, that time of life when every sight, every feeling, every thought came back, like a boomerang, to me. And worse, I was in love. Love with complications. Scenery was the last thing on my mind.
Once, long ago, when I was still young, when the memories were far more vivid than they are now, I often tried to write about her. But I couldn’t produce a line. I knew that if that first line would come, the rest would pour itself onto the page, but I could never make it happen. Everything was too sharp and clear, so that I could never tell where to start ⋯
"I suppose I don't really understand you yet," I said. "I'm not all that smart. It takes me a while to understand things. But if I do have the time, I will come to understand you - better than anyone else in the world."
"Don't you see? It's just not possible for one person to watch over another person forever and ever. I mean, suppose we got married. You'd have to work during the day. Who's going to watch over me while you're away? Or if you go on a business trip, who's going to watch over me then? Can I glued to you every minute of our lives? What kinds of equality would there be in that? What kind of relatio...
once upon a time, many year ago－just 20 year ago, in fact － i was living in a dormitory. i was 18 and a first-year student. i was new to tokyo and new to living alone, and so my anxious parents found a private dorm for me to live in rather than the kind of single room that most students took. the dormitory provided meals and other facilities and would probably help their worldly 18-year-old s...
My arm was not the one she needed, but the arm of someone else. My warmth was not what she needed, but the warmth of someone else. I felt almost guilty being me.
Kitty
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Loch~
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