Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore

Geniuses like that don't have it easy, Hoshino thought, impressed, and laid down his book. He remembered the bronze bust of a scowling Beethoven in the music room of his school, but until now he'd had no idea of the hardships the man had endured. No wonder the guy looked so sour. I'm never gonna be a genius, that's for sure, Hoshino thought.

He looked over at Nakata, who was deep into a photo collection of traditional folk furniture, and working an imaginary chisel and plane. These photos must've made him unconsciously feel like he was back at his old job. And Nakata-who knows? He might become a great person someday, Hoshino thought. Most people can't do the kinds of things he does. The old codger's definitely in a class all his own.

After twelve, two other readers, middle-aged women, came into the reading room, so Hoshino and Nakata used the opportunity to take a breather outside. Hoshino had brought some bread along for their lunch, while Nakata was lugging around his usual thermos of hot tea. Hoshino first asked Oshima at the counter whether it was all right to eat on the library grounds.

"Of course," Oshima replied. "It's nice to sit on the veranda overlooking the garden. Afterward, feel free to come in for a cup of coffee. I've already made some, so help yourself."

"Thanks," Hoshino said. "This is quite a homey place you have here."

Oshima smiled and brushed back his hair. "It is a little different from your normal library. Homey is a good way to describe it. What we're trying to create is sort of an intimate space where people can relax and enjoy reading."

Hoshino found Oshima an appealing young man. Intelligent, well groomed, obviously from a good family. And quite kind. He's got to be gay, right? Not that Hoshino cared. To each his own, was his thinking. Some men talk with stones, and some sleep with other men. Go figure.

After lunch, Hoshino stood up, stretched his whole body, then went back to the reception area to take Oshima up on his offer of a cup of coffee. Since Nakata didn't drink coffee, he stayed on the veranda sipping his tea and gazing at the birds flitting around the garden.

"So, did you find anything interesting to read?" Oshima asked Hoshino.

"Yeah, I've been reading a biography of Beethoven," Hoshino replied. "I like it. His life really gives you a lot to think about."

Oshima nodded. "He went through a lot-to put it mildly."

"He did have a tough time," Hoshino said, "but I think it was mainly his fault. I mean, he was so self-centered and uncooperative. All he thought about was himself and his music, and he didn't mind sacrificing whatever he had to for it. He must've been tough to get along with. Hey, Ludwig, gimme a break! That's what I would have said if I knew him. No wonder his nephew went off his rocker. But I have to admit his music is wonderful. It really gets to you. It's a strange thing."

"Absolutely," Oshima agreed.

"But why did he have to live such a hard, wild life? He would've been better off with a more normal type of life."

Oshima twirled the pencil around in his fingers. "I see your point, but by Beethoven's time people thought it was important to express the ego. Earlier, when there was an absolute monarchy, this would've been considered improper, socially deviant behavior and suppressed quite severely. Once the bourgeoisie came to power in the nineteenth century, however, that suppression came to an end and the individual ego was liberated to express itself. Freedom and the emancipation of the ego were synonymous. And art, music in particular, was at the forefront of all this. Those who came after Beethoven and lived under his shadow, so to speak-Berlioz, Wagner, Liszt, Schumann-all lived eccentric, stormy lives. Eccentricity was seen as almost the ideal lifestyle. The age of Romanticism, they called it. Though I'm sure living like that was pretty hard on them at times. So, you like Beethoven's music?"

"I can't really say if I do or not. I haven't heard that much," Hoshino admitted. "Hardly any at all, actually. I just kind of like that piece called the Archduke Trio."

"That is nice, yes."

"The Million-Dollar Trio's great," Hoshino added.

"I prefer the Czech group, the Suk Trio, myself," Oshima said. "They have a beautiful balance. You feel like you can smell the wind wafting over a green meadow. But I do know the Million-Dollar Trio version-Rubinstein, Heifetz, and Feuermann. It's an elegant performance."

"Um, Mr.-Oshima?" Hoshino asked, looking at the nameplate on the counter. "You know a lot about music, I can tell."

Oshima smiled. "Not a lot. I just enjoy listening to it."

"Do you think music has the power to change people? Like you listen to a piece and go through some major change inside?"

Oshima nodded. "Sure, that can happen. We have an experience-like a chemical reaction-that transforms something inside us. When we examine ourselves later on, we discover that all the standards we've lived by have shot up another notch and the world's opened up in unexpected ways. Yes, I've had that experience. Not often, but it has happened. It's like falling in love."

Hoshino had never fallen head over heels in love himself, but he went ahead and nodded anyway. "That's gotta be a very important thing, right?" he said. "For our lives?"

"It is," Oshima answered. "Without those peak experiences our lives would be pretty dull and flat. Berlioz put it this way: A life without once reading Hamlet is like a life spent in a coal mine."

"A coal mine?"

"Just typical nineteenth-century hyperbole."

"Well, thanks for the coffee," Hoshino said. "I'm happy we could talk."

Oshima gave him a big grin in reply.

Hoshino and Nakata read books until two, Nakata going through his carpenter's motions as he leafed through the collection of furniture photographs. Besides the middle-aged ladies, three other readers had joined them after lunch. But only Hoshino and Nakata asked to join the tour of the library.

"You don't mind if it's just the two of us?" Hoshino asked. "I feel bad you have to go to all this trouble just for us."

"No trouble at all," Oshima said. "The head librarian is happy to conduct the tour, even for one person."

At two on the dot a good-looking middle-aged woman came down the stairs. Back held straight, she had an impressive walk. She wore a dark blue suit with severe lines, black high heels, a thin silver necklace at her wide, open neckline, her hair gathered in the back. Nothing extraneous, altogether a highly refined, tasteful look.

"Hello. My name is Miss Saeki. I'm the head librarian here," the woman said, and smiled calmly.

"I'm Hoshino."

"I'm Nakata, and I'm from Nakano," the old man said, hiking hat in hand.

"We're glad you've come to visit us from so far away," Miss Saeki said.

A chill ran down Hoshino's spine at Nakata's words, but Miss Saeki didn't look suspicious.

Nakata was typically oblivious."Yes, I crossed over a very big bridge," he said.

"This is a wonderful building," Hoshino interjected, trying to cut off any talk of bridges.

"The building was built in the early Meiji period as the library and guesthouse of the Komura family," Miss Saeki began. "Many literati visited and lodged here. It's been designated a historical site by the city."

"Litter oddy?" Nakata asked.

Miss Saeki smiled. "Artists-poets, novelists, and so forth. In the past men of property in various localities helped support artists. Art was different back then, and wasn't viewed as something one should make a living at. The Komuras were men of property in this region who sponsored culture and the arts. This library was built, and is operated, to pass down that legacy to future generations."

"Man of property-Nakata knows what that means," Nakata said. "It takes a long time to become one."