Tuesday, June 23

Murakami Discussion Post

Since this is a book club, this entry will be less of a review and more of a series of discussion launch-pads, chock full of spoilers. So finish reading the book! Think of it like attending tutorial in university :P

- One of the first things that struck me was the alleged conflict between Calcutecs and Semiotecs. Now I don't know if this is deliberate or a by-product of translation, but the term 'Semiotecs' immediately brings my mind to semiotics -- the study of signs and symbols, including how meaning is constructed in language. One of Ferdinand de Saussure's basic linguistic premises is that all information that enters our brains comes to us through language -- be it text, body language, visual information or whatnot. The three major components of delivering information are the sign, signifier and signified. The sign is the object conveying information. A tree is a sign, a stop sign is a sign, a smiley emoticon is a sign, the word 'cat' is a sign. Each sign is constructed of a series of signifiers and contexts, elements that our brains link to specific meanings, or signifieds. For example, in a smiley emoticon, the symbols : and ) have their own meaning in language, but paired together in :) they mean something different. Thus, context changes meaning, and different collections of signifiers have different signifieds. One of the most contentious issues raised in de Saussurian semiotics is that the link between signifier and signified (symbol and meaning) is completely arbitrary. There is no connection, for example, between the letters C-A-T and the meaning it conjures up. There is nothing feline about C, A or T, nothing to do with fur and claws and snooty independence. As such, language is not only a collective body -- a series of meanings agreed upon by everybody who speaks it -- but a changing, flexible and decomposing force.

This decomposition is truly evident in the nature of the Professor's sound cancellation -- when his granddaughter is sound-removed, her language makes no sense to the Calcutec officer. What happens when very fabric of communication breaks down? When the agreed upon symbols and signifiers no longer function to relate the same signifieds?

At first the book seems to pit the logic of numbers against the arbitrary nature of written language, but as the lines between Calcutec and Semiotec are blurred (and later become completely superficial), what does that mean? Yes, numbers are recognizable as a language just as arbitrary as any other. But what does it say when numbers/language; destruction/preservation; force/manipulation are different sides of the same coin -- and, ultimately, the same mind?


- Another thing about signifieds and communication I found fascinating was the complete lack of proper names in the book. None of the characters have names. They are all identifiable (and thoroughly developed) by their relationships to the protagonist and their personality traits. "Big Boy and Junior", for instance, could easily be replaced by their names -- but this way, the reader receives a more complete signified without any of the normal textual signifiers. Which is perhaps more honest, I think, making meaning that exists beyond language (despite the irony of being in a printed book). Throughout text, signifieds grow in our understanding as more and more of the plot is revealed to us, but normally the signifiers would stay static. 'Jane' at the beginning of a text is the same 'Jane' at the end of the text. In HBW, these character tags expand and contract over time. The librarian becomes "my reference desk girlfriend"; the "Professor's granddaughter" becomes "the chubby pink girl" both before her relationship to her grandfather is established and after she has (forcibly) claimed her independence in the protagonist's broken apartment. These tags explain more than 'Jane' could.
This also highlights the contrasting limitations of the End of the World, where one is purely defined by one's profession. There is no wiggle room in identity there; just as 'Jane' summarizes the entirety of Jane's life and personality, 'Librarian' or 'Gatekeeper' does the same. It encompasses a varied personality and reduces it to a title.

(A process which is interesting in and of itself, as that is what the brain does when receiving information -- taking the myriad facets of experience and observation and managing it so that it becomes useful information. After all, we don't spend much time thinking "okay, smooth brown trunk plus 8 feet tall plus wide spread of branches plus green or red palmate leaves equals maple tree.")


- The book, I think, embraces a movement away from simple text and speech as a reliable signifier, forcing the reader to be more analytical in the way they process what's going on. Not everything as it seems, and the complications of communication (like the sound-removed granddaughter, the clouded history of the library books, the puzzles of communication in The End of the World) become commonplace. The failure of communication becomes more accurate -- and more interesting -- than proper communication.


- The lack of music, of art, of creativity in the End of the World is an interesting contrast to the Calcutec officer's life. I suppose it is impossible to know whether this is a by-product of the Professor's tinkering, the Calcutec's mind structure, or simply because in the deep hidden recesses of our minds there is no need for art, music, etc.
But suppose, theoretically, that the subconscious workings of the mind needs no art to regulate itself and keep its perfection. It even goes so far as to reject and prohibit art. Art will ruin its perfection. Does art, then, remind us of, or even facilitate, human imperfection, human struggle? Is that its value?
The Calcultec officer's conscious life is replete with art: classical music, Bob Dylan, old rock stars, Russian and French literature, wild west movies, fine whisky and delicious food. He relishes in these things as a counterpoint to his seemingly-mundane existence. Even his memories (or false-memories, like water-level rising in the underground temple) are conveyed through a filmic mode of communication.
Is this just a by-product of a mediatized world, or does art then become a way we filter experience?


- The Russian literature and American wild west films are particularly intriguing. Two of Japan's major cultural influences due to proximity and military influence. Their importance is probably (at least in part) because of Murakami's own post-war influences and the opening of Japan's cultural borders. But they also speak of the idea of the benevolent foreign universe: that somewhere outside this place is a world of culture and beauty and progress, and within this (cultural) prison, we can only catch glimpses.
As such, the End of the World could almost be a metaphor of pre-War Japan, closed off from the rest of the world. Idyllic, perhaps, but missing something. (Of course I've only had rudimentary study of Japanese history, so forgive my potential ridiculous statements :P)


- The metaphor of the shadow is an interesting one. One that I haven't quite puzzled through what it means. An integral part of us that we take for granted, whose burden we must bear at every choice. Youth, perhaps. First world status, perhaps. I'm not sure. It's a poignant metaphor nonetheless.


- The passage of time, and its emotional nuances, vary greatly between the two stories. Months pass for the Dreamreader, and Murakami is quick to impress upon his readers the changing seasons and their emotional weight. The sombre solitude and decline of winter feel crisp and deadly in comparison to soft, golden edge of fall. These passages read almost like protracted traditional Japanese haiku, which possesses kireji and kigo: the first, called the "cutting word", represents a turning point at the end of a line that lends structure and meaning; the latter is an (often indirect) allusion to the season in which the haiku occurs. Perhaps the titles of these chapters, less forthright that the chapter titles for the Hard Boiled Wonderland series, can be understood as the kireji.
Two weeks pass for the Calcutec officer, a much more abrupt and hard-boiled (haha) series of chases and escapes. Nearly every moment is documented, and he barely gets any sleep. The weight of the action here is made even heavier by the intellectual complications the Professor presents us with; much different than the moral obligations the Dreamreader bears.


- And, finally, my last question: what happens when you jump through the Whirlpool?

~Laine

23 comments:

G said...

PART 1:

First off, I am realizing what a giant task it is to be reading books with well, some of you literary experts! Sure I loved the book, but thought it was weird mostly. Plus I have not read a book, and analyzed it since Grade 12, and those were the good days of sparks notes!

I even spend sometime reading some reviews after, which were all rather basic, and boring. Plus they all start with some sentence to the effect of "there are two completely different worlds, the conscious and the unconscious" which I find beyond annoying. I am not really sure why :S

Your comment about art and culture is very interesting. Just to expand on that, in Chapter 35 the Calcultec guy is singing along to Danny Boy, which "made me terribly sad" and then when he asked the library girl "What time is it?" she answered "Nighttime." I really felt at this point that this was the end, that he would go to sleep and wake up in the End of the World. Which really is the end because the professor had told him he would live there forever right? Anyways, then the next chapter in the End of the World is the chapter about the Accordion. I mean, here we have music, or art, conveying some sense of humanity and emotion, because he ends of playing a few notes of Danny Boy, and he finds the mind of the library girl.

Anyways, so the question about the importance or effect of art is that it does remind us of humanity. I mean, I am not sure of the song choice, because it is a very sad song, and according to Wikipedia also a popular funeral song. So, its context makes sense for the end of Chapter 35. The same song is mentioned in Chapter 1, at a point where the Calcutec guy realizes he might be stuck in the elevator. I mean, part of the lyrics are even quoted in the text, which does mentioned summer and winter, sunshine and shadow.
So, I think the fact that it is played on the accordion might give an indication that music reminds us of connection with humanity. I mean, in the End of the World, the only reason the topic of music comes up is because the Dreamreader, or the narrator, is talking about the library girl's mother. I guess the mother used to sing, so I think it is again associated with being human, and having feelings. I mean, maybe not necessarily a struggle, but at least an emotion.

Also, then the next chapter (after the Accordian, and so the next chapter in Hard-Boiled World) is about waking up and the glowing skull. I just wonder what the significance of the glowing skull is?

Just to go back to the finding of the Accordion it seems that afterwards the Dreamreader is all of the sudden not completely sure about leaving the town anymore. I think that is the point also, where he finds purpose in helping the library girl?

Anyways, about the Pool. I just thought that if he jumped into it he would wake up in his car listening to the same Bob Dylan song that he fell asleep to. Maybe his brain would get a good whirl, and the three input/output streams would interconnect, and he would realize that the End of the World was just a funny dream in his imagination? Anyways, I thought that that was gonna happen.

G said...

PART 2:

Just a thought about the shadow. If the shadow signifies the existence of a mind, of being able to make choices, about having some element of humanity, maybe the shadow signifies the imprint of our existence on others, and the imprint of others on us. Then, when the shadow dies, there is no more feelings, of love or hate:

"First, about the mind. You tell me there is no fighting or hatred or desire in the Town. That this is a beautiful dream, and I do want your happiness. But the absence of fighting or hatred or desire also means the opposites do not exist either. No joy, no communion, no love. Only where there is disillusionment and depression and sorrow does happiness arise; without the despair of loss, there is no hope."

So then our shadow is our conscious. But then again, I haeve no idea!

I feel like I should be able to answer your point about Japanese history ... since I have taken a couple of courses in its history. Anyways, I don't think that in Japan there has been a drastic change in interest/access/knowledge of Western culture/art after the Second World War. That existed before World War One. In fact, Japan's culture has been highly influenced by Westerners from early on, despite a period of isolationism which ended in the 1850's or something. I think that the interest in Bob Dylan for example is mostly because of access and technology. Plus that was overly popular everywhere in Japan.

this site might be interesting:
http://www.exorcising-ghosts.co.uk/endoftheworld.html

That's my two-cents for now. I also promise I won't write such long comments anymore ...

Cindy said...

Okay, so I never attended any novel analysis tutorials in university so I feel a little out of my element here.....but here goes.....

It might be just me, but it wasn't until I finished the book that I realized that I didn't know the main character's name....and that none of the characters actually had names (I don't remember who Jane was so therefore she wasn't important). And yet they were all clearly identifiable and developed without the usual pre-cursory identity stamp.
In HBW, all the characters are identified through an visual trait or their relationship to others. The lack of names is an interesting deliberate deletion on the author's part. It is interesting to me because that is how I actually remember people initially. I don't remember names until the 3rd time I've met someone or have established that person in some relationship to myself. For me, it allowed me to actually remember the separate characters more clearly than if the author had presented a name for each character and used it as reference. I have found myself having to search back in other novels to remember who Mr.So-and-so and Mrs.Whats-her-face was, because I would forget what their relationship to the main character was. In HBW or even EofW, there was no such need.
In EofW, they are identified by their permanently-assigned profession (when they part with their mind). However I wonder if it probably a necessity of the environment. Since without a profession, the characters would have no purpose and all of them would be the same. A profession gives the characters a task and direction in the town and (with nothing else to contribute) becomes how they are identified.

On the topic of the lack of art in EofW, I would note that the Dreamweaver was actively struggling to bring art into EofW. He recognized his need for art (music in his case) and searched for an instrument and forced a song to resurface in his mind. It wasn't necessary for the town before his appearance because the town was created for him. However now stuck in the perfect walls of the town, he recognized what was lacking and he then created it, bringing it into the town.
I would be interested in what is effected by this new addition into the perfect environment of the EotW. I don't think the town went as far as prohibiting art, but it was more like they didn't recognize it as a reality or an entity or even a possibility. I however agree that art will ruin the town's perfection, because art is imperfect. How will it now effect the mind-less inhabitants? Will it bring back emotions? The Librarian cried after listening to the accordion. However, how can you cry or feel anything if one does not have a mind to understand or conduct emotion? (Refer back to the issue of the Librarian not being able to love.) If music brings emotion, and emotion is linked to the mind, then does that mean the mind will return? Will the town work if they have minds?

Cindy said...

The concept of time in interesting to me, or more specifically the timelines of the two worlds. Are they moving parallel to each other as the novel proceeds? Does the subconscious Dreamreader encounter new characters and issues as the conscious Calcutec encounters individuals in his life? But then the short two weeks of the Calcutec would have to equal the months that the Dreamreader passes through. But then time may move quicker in the EofW.
The alternative is that the Dreamreader initially enters the town when the Calcutec officer falls asleep in his rental car. Which seems more likely to me. But then what happens now that the shadow jumps through the Whirlpool? Does the Calcutec officer in a deep freeze cooler in the chubby pink girl's lab start waking up since part of his subconscious(the part with carrying memory, choices, and the mind) has returned to the "body"? But then what happens to the part that is still in the town? What part would be missing from the Calcutec then?

I hope that made sense to people. Now I know why I don't analyze novels in depth....they create more questions than answers.

Cindy

G said...

more questions than answers -> amen to that.

Laine said...

G: What I find annoying about the statement "there are two completely different worlds, the conscious and the unconscious" is that it's highly problematic and completely misses the point of the book. :P There aren't two "completely different worlds"; they are facets of the same world, with common themes and elements and experiences overlapping each other. In the end, both worlds are trying to make meaning out of the jumbled construction of life.


Interesting thought about the Shadow being humanity -- if the Shadow is the external/Calcutec manifestation of his identity, and the Dreamreader is his internal identity, what then is he giving up by choosing to simultaneously re-enter the world and stay within his mind? What happens if he has his conscious mind but not his unconscious mind when he remerges into real time?

Laine said...

Cindy:
It wasn't necessary for the town before his appearance because the town was created for him. However now stuck in the perfect walls of the town, he recognized what was lacking and he then created it, bringing it into the town.

Intriguing!
Would that make the Dreamreader, then, not the Calcutec's unconscious mind, but rather his conscious one?
So that once he becomes aware of EotW, he begins to rectify it by drawing from his conscious awareness?
That would explain why he "goes away" in the real world, if his conscious mind has entered his subconscious.

Another question for you: what happens to the unicorns if the inhabitants of the EotW start regaining their minds?

G said...

Hmmm ... to continue this discussion and answer Laine's 7:35 question: Maybe it is not so much about giving something up as not giving something up. I mean, if the mind dies when the shadow does, we don't know what happens to the mind now that the shadow disappears. The dreamreader also does not know what would happen, so he would give up the library girl and the life he knows in the Town to jump into uncertainty. So it seems from his last conversation with the Shadow that he thinks he can save himself and the town from mere existence. But then again, with the Shadow gone how does the Dreamreader change?

So confused :S

As for the 7:38 question. I just wonder why he choose unicorns, you know. To me they are associated with happiness ... but Murakami has them dying in a dreary, cold world. So what happens to the unicorns: something happy I hope.

Anyone else?

Laine said...

G, regarding unicorns: Surely you recognize by now that Murakami is never one to do something because everyone else has :) As he explains in the text, unicorns have not historcally been happy white creatures with sparkles and rainbows :P

Plus, mythologically speaking, the unicorn is represented as a creature outside of the cycle of life, a mystical creature of infinite wisdom and compassion (or infinite virility, depending on which version you seek) that dies only when slaughtered by the impure deeds of mankind.

At the EotW, unicorns are just creatures again, caught up in the cycle of life and death -- of growth and decay -- that everything, even a perfect subconscious, must face.

At the EofW, the meaning of everything becomes flipped. That which is constant is no longer (the Shadow being removed); the wise, otherworldly, immortal unicorn becomes mortal and fuels death of wisdom; the mundane becomes sublime (the simple act of playing the accordion in a world without music).

The Dreamreader does not read dreams (possibilities), but minds and memories (lost chances); the Librarian does not archive information but emotion (seemingly the opposite of information); the Gatekeeper is an Undertaker, monitoring the ins and outs not of the city but of mental life.

...basically what I'm trying to say is that, at the End of the World, things that are normally happy aren't.
(or, in Old Country, Unicorn kills you!)

G said...

Okay, so I went back to reread the first chapter of EotW and it def. makes more sense now! What I had forgotten about was the idea that for one week in the spring the beasts fight - when "instinct compels the males to clash" (17). Interesting!

But when the unicorns are introduced at first, they are golden beasts with blue eyes and white horns. So at some point that image changes?

I really need to study for an exam ... but I will be contemplating the idea that everything in EofW is flipped ... because I hadn't really deduced that.

Miss. Scarlett said...

I'm late to the party but here are my thoughts that hopefully make sense but probably do not:

The lack of proper names was something I noticed right away and I think that follows really well with what Laine was saying about Saussure's idea of the sign, signifier, signified. If we had assigned the name of "Mary" to the chubby pink girl, we will automatically in our minds identify the word "Mary" every time we see it with a Chubby Pink Girl but the word "Mary" in itself doesn't mean that at all. I think Murakami uses this as one of the devices to force us to question the assigned meanings we give to our common signs and how it is that those signs manage to take on its respective signifiers.

One of the other things I noticed was the lack of identifiable time period. Asides from the pop cultural references of Bob Dylan and Lauren Bacall in the HBW, one assumes that it happens in the present time yet there are such futuristic aspects being described. The same goes with the EotW chapters. The impression that I got was that it was taking place in the past because of the lack of descriptions about technology such as cars and electricity. Plus, the inclusion of the unicorns almost gave it a mythical-dated feel. But like has been previously mentioned, why do we automatically assume the Unicorn as a mythical, historic creature? Simply because we do not see them anymore and that they have been associated with the medieval times?

The present world is rather mundane, no flying cars or robots running around but at the same time, there are such fantastical things going on that it seems like the common people don't know about i.e. the couple listening to Duran Duran in the car. Does this mean that they are simply not observant to the things that are going around them, or are they simply not chosen to be perceptive to the reality of what is going on. That plus in the EotW, the people are all assigned jobs, and they are identified by their jobs. They have no choice about it, and they cannot deviate from it. These two ideas sort of remind of a Calvinism theology where it states that God has a chosen plan for everybody and one cannot deviate from it. Therefore, only certain people are meant for salvation and others are not.

The idea of the 'Shadow' is one that is interesting as well. Shadow is typically a metaphor for your "Dark" side. Your negative thoughts and the embodiment of your primal instincts that your physical self controls with taught values and morals. Yet, in the Town, when one is cut-off from their Shadow, they start to lose their "mind" and their inclination for the arts and also, any signs of genuine emotion. The Librarian expresses fear of the whirlpool but that fear does not seem genuine and rather that it was taught. Perhaps the metaphor for the shadow being cut off is that without allowing yourself to feel genuine emotions and your own state of mind, art cannot be feasible or exist. The concept of "art" cannot exist without it and one's soul is only half complete without the shadow.

Laine said...

G: Think of the unicorns like arctic animals that shed their coats and turn a different colour in the fall. I think the golden coat the unicorns have is something they grow in the winter for warmth, perhaps.

Laine said...

Sherry:
Does this mean that they are simply not observant to the things that are going around them, or are they simply not chosen to be perceptive to the reality of what is going on.

Interesting! I always thought of the Calcutec/Semiotec business to be like a classified government organization. Something that people normal people aren't privy too. But you raise an interesting point in that they are not chosen to know about it. With all of the Professor's actions, the Headquarters chose who who could know about the shuffling procedures. They deliberate establish who has information, and thereby who has power.
Does this affect how able we are to live our (conscious) lives? Ignorance is bliss, surely.



Therefore, only certain people are meant for salvation and others are not.
Tying this to the events at the EotW, are only those with Shadows/minds meant for salvation? Or is it the opposite -- that the perfect city is salvation, and only in relinquishing an important part of us can we gain access into heaven?

What is salvation at the EotW? A return to conscious life? Or a rejection of conscious life?

G said...

Whoot! I found a searchable copy of the book on esnips! Because I had to look up the Duran Duran reference Sherry made. I was going to say exactly the same thing Laine said. About classified government/business projects.

I mean,the Professor engaged in research, and selected a group of 26 candidates, of which the narrator is the only one that survived, because according to the Professor he already had two identities.

It did made me rethink that Chapter, because the Professor made a video of core consciousness into a story. Now, the Professor edited and visualized this story (269). So is this the End of the World? I find it interesting that the Professor relates this to musicians, painters and writers as doing the same thing(262). This has to have some connection to our earlier discussion about art right?

Anyways, to get back to the point about being chosen, I had just thought the being chosen was more about fitting the criteria for research (and the ability to survive the process!).

Interesting relation to Calvinism though! Interesting to me, because this has to be the most godless novel I have ever read. Unless I am missing something, but I can't really think of any references to a higher being. Hmmm ... that just made me think. Is there ever any mention or allusion to a meaning of life? a purpose?

I could probably reread this book and understand it much better :S

Reading the Professor's comment that "everythin' that's in this world here and now is missin' from that world. there is no time, no life, no death. no values in any strict sense"(270)I just want to double check, Laine, is that what you meant by everything being flipped?

I am still pondering the idea of salvation ... because salvation is solely a religious concept. I mean, if salvation is meant to save us from something, what in this novel is anyone to be saved from? And Laine, further to your comment, the Dreamreader is the only one that still had a shadow/mind right? And when you refer to the perfect city, you mean the city in EoftheW?

Laine said...

G:
Yes, that's what I meant by everything being flipped -- it's not a malicious or even probably intentional flippage. It's just that everything at the end of the world is simply the opposite (or, at the most, only tangentially related) to the conscious world. Which I think is a reflection of the nature of the subconscious mind.

The Dreamreader is currently the only person with a live Shadow left in the EotW, but the people who live in the forest, (where the Librarian thinks her mother might be) still bear the vestiges of minds that have not successfully been eradicated.

(And yes about the perfect city)


And yes, it's a very secular book, haha. In terms of purpose, I think Murakami questions both sides of purpose. He both questions people who go about their lives not thinking about whether they have a purpose (ie the Calcutec officer), as well as those who believe their purpose is stricly and unflexibly denoted from outside themselves (ie the inhabitatents of the EotW). I think in real life we have to strike a balance between the two.

G said...

Just talking about purpose ... that made me think of the men in EotW that were digging a hole, for no apparent reason. Maybe in EotW there is no purpose at all, with the exception of a job to do, there seems to be a process of work, but it is mostly an endless cycle with no end. I mean, they are not really working towards anything, and since they are immortal they are just living without an end, or a goal for eternity! Although if they are living for some purpose outside of themselves, and have no control whatsoever ... gah. I would have jumped into the pool!

Laine said...

G: Haha, you only say that because you're thinking about it with a conscious mind.

Also, it sounds a bit like purgatory, no?

Miss. Scarlett said...

So I literally have about 3 pages left to read that were rudely interrupted by my commute ending but here are some random thoughts:

If I understand correctly, the EotW is a universe that the protagonist created and it got me thinking as to why he would create such a world. Surely, there were outside influences that shaped certain aspects of it, but I wonder why one's interpretation of a "pure" world is one without purpose...which got me thinking how similar the words "pure" and "purpose" are. It also calls back to the concept that there is no such thing as a truly selfless act, especially if one takes delight in performing it as that feeling that one gets from it cancels out the selfless nature of it. In some part, when one does a kind need for one, it is also to satisfy yourself.

I think it's very much a "secular" novel and I don't think Murakami had any intention of putting "God" in it, but I think it does lend itself to the suggestion of a supreme being or at least some form of spirituality. The somewhat "supernatural" aspects of the storytelling would suggest so.

And interesting comparison to Purgatory. Purgatory in Catholic theology is sort of the "waiting room" for heaven/hell. That's where the souls go after death until they are prayed out of it.

Laine said...

sherry: I don't think that a good deed needs to be selfless, though. Just because you enjoy helping someone doesn't negate the fact that you did something kind or thoughtful.

It's like the Dreamreader. Yes, he's helping the Librarian discover what's left of her mind, but his motivation is mixed between kindness, curiousity and the desire for her to actually love him. That doesn't mean he's a terrible person.

Miss. Scarlett said...

Oh no, I didn't mean to say that it makes you a bad person. Selfish tendencies don't make you a bad person. Obviously, it is better to actually enjoy helping people rather than to begrudgingly do it.

G said...

Question. Laine you mentioned "perfect city" and Sherry you mentioned "pure world" when talking about the EotW, and I tried to look back into the book to see where it is described as such. Anyways, is it?

About Purgatory, at the end you go into heaven or hell right? I mean, there is at least something to look forward to there, right?

Theresa said...

Hmmm... I agree with G- I'd jump into the pool too :)

A few comments (although I have to admit, I skipped a few chapters, so my understanding of the book is not complete):

1) A couple things about purgatory, since it was brought up:
-You only go to purgatory if you're eventually going to heaven. Purgatory is a place of purification, where our love is purified of all its selfishness and pride and sinfulness. This is necessary so that we can be perfectly united to God, who is the only perfect Love.
-We are not prayed out of purgatory (only God brings us to heaven, when we're ready to meet Him), but God wants us to pray for those in purgatory.

2) The thing about purpose, I think I agree with Elaine, and therefore EotW can't be the "perfect world".

Murakami "both questions people who go about their lives not thinking about whether they have a purpose (ie the Calcutec officer), as well as those who believe their purpose is stricly and unflexibly denoted from outside themselves (ie the inhabitents of the EotW). I think in real life we have to strike a balance between the two."
-I think the Calcutec is missing out of the best part of life, by not searching to know and live his purpose in life.
-I think the people of EotW can't be truly happy, because they don't believe they have any role in determining their purpose. If they haven't had free choice in the matter (even if that free choice is to give their freedom over to a power greater than themselves) and if they don't know the truth of who they are, their past, etc(ie EotW), I don't think they can have perfect happiness.

Hope those ramblings make sense. I'll try to be better iwht the next book :)

jennmch said...

I stumbled into this discussion while researching translation issues in Murakami's works. Just a quick thought about shadow:

Imagine an Antoinette Cosway without Bertha Mason. Or, alternately, a Bertha without Antoinette. You lose a depth of character/perspective when you have one without the other. I would posit that the loss of shadow is a complete submission to one hegemonic dogma. You lose your ability to think, question, be critical, and have regrets, because everything is "perfect." Time stops (the hands on the clocktower are frozen) and you are stuck at one synchronic cross-section of data. You look at the woman in the attic and see only mad Bertha.

You could probably glean more from the text, but that's what I got offhand. Hope that's worth something!