Monday, May 9, 2011

Aimless Reading: The M's, Part 63.3 (Haruki Murakami)

After Dark by Michael_Kelleher
After Dark, a photo by Michael_Kelleher on Flickr.

Murakami, Haruki
After Dark

Purchased at Talking Leaves…Books.

Yet another unread book by Haruki Murakami on my shelves. Actually, it has been read, as have all of them, just not by me. Lori has been reading through my library since we met ten years ago, so we have read a lot of the same books. It's actually kind of nice to have a few that aren't mutual. But I do plan to get around to these some day. And that will be the day that Mr. Murakami accepts my invitation to Buffalo. (Aside: I am hoping one of these entries reaches his desk some day, gently nudging him toward an affirmative response to my invitation.)

Note to the reader: I am sorry for being so sporadic and repetitive of late. We are having a baby and selling our house simultaneously and've spent the past month working to prepare the house for sale. Our open house took place this past Saturday, so hopefully I'll now have a bit more time for rumination, reminiscence, writing.


from After Dark

Eyes mark the shape of the city.

Through the eyes of a high-flying night bird, we take in the scene from midair. In our broad sweep, the city looks like a single gigantic creature—or more like a single collective entity created by many intertwining organisms. Countless arteries stretch to the ends of its elusive body, circulating a continuous supply of fresh blood cells, sending out new data and collecting the old, sending out new consumables and collecting the old, sending out new contradictions and collecting the old. To the rhythm of its pulsing, all parts of the body flicker and flare up and squirm. Midnight is approaching, and while the peak of activity has passed, the basal metabolism that maintains life continues undiminished, producing the basso continuo of the city’s moan, a monotonous sound that neither rises nor falls but is pregnant with foreboding.