Sunday, January 31, 2016

Passions Fade

2008. Mid-September. A cool breezy night. I, at nine years of age, was watching the Kennedy Marching Band perform for halftime at a football game. I was in awe of the formations and colors. The drums' vibrations were felt in my stomach. It was the only thing that tore my attention away from my nachos that night. I knew I wanted to be in the color guard from then on.

I became a member my freshman year. Though my skills were lacking, I worked hard and was a little obsessed with the activity. after all, it was a sort of dream of mine. I had such intimate friendships with other members and loved performing. It was something that I found joy in and never wanted to stop doing. Color guard was a piece of my identity back then. In the springtime, I found myself missing marching.

There was drastic improvement in the time between my freshman and sophomore years. Sophomore year was much more wholesome, as my effort had paid off. My skills were developed and my heart was still beating for performance. That was the senior year of so many of my friends, but  I never wanted it to end. We didn't rank well, but that wasn't an issue because the act of performance was enough to satisfy me.

Junior year. Almost all of my best friends in guard had graduated. We actually had some pretty snazzy costumes, and the show was Jekyll and Hyde, one of my favorite stories. We placed so well, and it was deemed one of the most successful years for the band in a while. You'd think that this would be heavenly for me. It would only make sense, yeah? Unfortunately, I found myself hating it at practices, and feeling little post-performance. Whatever I had felt before had left me. Even when we did so well at our biggest competition, I felt relatively nothing. Where did it go? My therapist suggested that it could be because my identity had developed past the need for color guard to be a large part of who I am. It was definitely a thought that stuck, and I think she could be right. I mean here I am, with a guaranteed spot as the leader next fall, instead choosing not to complete a four-year run in marching band. I have the skills and there are expectations for me to lead my teammates next year, but I just can't bring myself to dedicate so much of my life next year that I don't feel passionate about. I'm going to get so much slack for it, but I truly think I've just grown out of my state of being as a member. Though it's so incredibly disappointing, I really feel that it's my time to move on and just keep developing and that it's simply a sign of age.

High School Habits (Chinese students)

Every year, the school's Chinese program organizes a festival to celebrate the beginning of the Lunar New Year. This often takes place in late winter. The festival at school consists of a Hy-vee Chinese dinner, followed by performances created by students. I've taken Chinese for four years, and it feels like the same thing every year - a true testament to the progression of procrastination of an adolescent.

Choreography has always been my contribution. During my 8th grade year, it came in the form of motion's for my group's pitiful performance of I Love You, You Love Me, Chinese version. If you're thinking of the ol' song from Barney, you're thinking right. This one was pretty easy and didn't have any rushed planning, but this was pre-high school of course.

My freshman year was when my group did a fan dance to 恭喜恭喜(Gong Xi Gong Xi). That one was prepared maybe two weeks before our performance. It was pretty fast paced, and legitimately choreographed with effort. We worked hard and performed it well.

The next year, I choreographed a ballet solo/ribbon trio .The other two members of my group also made their own fan duo piece. It was definitely more messy than the year before, given it was also choreographed the week before we performed it. The anticipation was lessened too.


This year...ha. This year consists of a ballet solo, parasol duo, and fan trio. The performance is in a week, and we've just started to look at it today. There's little excitement and instead just loathing. We'll see how this one turns out...

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Sputnik Sweetheart: Chapters 9-END

Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami is a quick read. I read it over two days, with school and activities going on. I have to say, I was completely wrong in my expectations.

I thought Sputnik Sweetheart was going to be somewhat vanilla of a novel, but instead, I was plunged into the division of being, being eaten alive (or dead??) by metaphorical cats(?) and parallel worlds. Not to mention the ending, which was possibly the most resolved one of Murakami's that I"ve encountered so far. It's a very complicated end if you wish to ponder deeper meanings, but I, a tired high school student, decided to believe it as it was written. The simplest interpretation (in my opinion) is just to believe that Sumire returned from the alternate reality after realizing how much she depended on K. The issue with that is how could she bear to leave Miu? I'll think about it at a later point...


I found Sputnik Sweetheart a largely forgettable novel, but I also suspect that that is more an effect of my lacking a deeper focus and reading it during winter. I'll plan on rereading it this summer, when I can properly appreciate the summer atmosphere throughout the book.


Sunday, January 24, 2016

When Reading Murakami

Haruki Murakami is known to repeat elements in several of his novels. This is apparent to such an extent that illustrator and cartoonist Grant Snider has even made a bingo card. Though this turns many readers away from exploring Murakami’s numerous works, I’m not too bothered by it. To me, it’s just his flavor of writing, but on the other hand, I have become incredibly suspicious when reading his novels. These are some common thoughts that emerge in that process.


“Are they gonna die?”
What’s a Murakami novel without death? There is most certainly a ton of deaths in Murakami’s novels. The only books I’ve read by him so far without any character deaths are After Dark and South of the Border, West of the Sun. After Dark includes death threats from a Chinese gang member though, and South of the Border, West of the Sun also includes a potential love suicide. So yeah, can’t really say they’re void of death. Not to mention Dance, Dance, Dance, where death is a central theme. As a matter of fact, just moments ago, I grew impatient like I often do and skipped ahead in Colorless. The first word I saw was death. I doubt anyone's going to die, but it was a moment of “nope”. Yeah, I didn't read further in, and returned to my spot a few pages back. The struggle is real.


“Are they going to disappear?”
This one is especially frequent while reading Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage. First, his friends all shun him, then the only other friend he’s made disappears twice - the first time on family business, the second time final and without explanation. There’s this feeling that Sara will abandon Tsukuru as well, just like everyone else in his life, but who knows. A Wild Sheep Chase and Dance, Dance, Dance also face the disappearance of the nameless protagonist’s girlfriend, Kiki. There’s also Eri’s somewhat disappearance in After Dark, where her body is present, but no one has witnessed her consciousness in months.


Is any of this actually real?
This one really became a question asked after South of the Border, West of the Sun. South of the Border is quite reminiscent of American Psycho in some ways, but in the context of unfaithfulness. At the end, the protagonist is revealed to have possibly imagined everything. Murakami loves to dwell in a space between reality and something else. Fun stuff, really.


The ending is going to be a cliffhanger.
This one isn't even a question.



My Experience Reading Dance, Dance, Dance and A Wild Sheep Chase (a short, somewhat humorous post)

I read Dance, Dance, Dance before A Wild Sheep Chase. If this was a mistake, I don’t know, but I must say that it made for some humorous thoughts. Dance, Dance, Dance is regarded as a stand-alone novel, but there are definite connections to A Wild Sheep Chase.


Some thoughts I had while reading Dance, Dance, Dance:


“What is the Dolphin Hotel?”


“Kiki….? Who?”


“what”


“Who is the Sheep Professor?”


“Sheep Man…..?”


“Who is the Rat? Does it even matter since he’s dead?”


“what”


So it was a little difficult to read fluidly, but was still a good book regardless. I read it over my winter break from school, which was excellent because the exposition takes place during the winter season.


A Wild Sheep Chase is actually the third book in Murakami’s Rat Trilogy, but again, it functions as a separate piece as well. There are still some details that I feel would read more smoothly with prior reading of Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973. A Wild Sheep Chase was definitely weirder than Dance, Dance, Dance, but I also felt that it was slower in its plot development ( that is, until death and explosions came in). Both books have humor, but I felt that A Wild Sheep Chase overall had more humorous writing. There were several odd funny parts, as well as comedically blunt chapter titles. For example, “We are not whales - and this constitutes one great theme underscoring our sex life” in the chapter “The Whale’s Penis and the Woman with Three Occupations”. The books have a funny sort of dynamic between them. Whether this is intentional or just me being goofy, I don’t know. For example, I was thinking about the presence of death in both, and decided A Wild Sheep Chase is like “Dude, I’m dead,” while Dance, Dance, Dance is more like “Dude, you’re dead…who’s next?”

I plan to read the first two pieces in this series, Hear the Wind Sing and Pinball, 1973 after Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and Sputnik Sweetheart.

Sputnik Sweetheart : Chapters 1-8

My most recent posts are all Murakami-centric. For this fact, I am not sorry. The guy write some weird and fantastic books. 10/10 would recommend.

Beforehand: 

Before beginning Sputnik Sweetheart today, I read Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki over Wednesday and Thursday, as well as A Wild Sheep Chase before that. Both aren't out-of-this-world weird on the surface, but were definitely not ordinary. A Wild Sheep Chase is unapologetically odd. Like, really odd. The tone is ironically pretty passive and neutral though, constant with Murakami's style of protagonists and magical realism. The plot was a slow one too, until the explosive end (that was a pun). On the other hand, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki is headache-inducing when you think deeply over the plot and its symbols. I needed to give my mind a rest, so I settled on reading Sputnik Sweetheart next. Sputnik is known as one of Murakami's more traditional novels, along with Norwegian Wood which is also similar in length, and the first Murakami book I read. 

So far:

First off, I have to say, for such a short book (210 pages), Sputnik Sweetheart has a long exposition. It was only at about halfway through the book that I began turning pages more consistently. Though definitely not bad, it seems to take quite a while to get into the story. Colorless had a very distinct gloomy mood to it, but I struggled to distinguish a feeling for the first half of Sputnik. Personally, I also struggled to get a good picture of the setting.

 This starts to change where I am right now, at the end of the eighth chapter. K has just arrived in Greece after Miu called him, alerting him of Sumire's disappearance. After he arrives on the island, the pictures formed much more easily in my mind and are gorgeous. The mood of summer is also illustrated beautifully. While reading, I was filled with summer longing and nostalgia. I look forward to the events unfolding in this setting.

On what's to come:

Though I'm eager to continue reading, I'm also scared. Why? Because Haruki Murakami, that's why. A disappearance almost certainly means death, or disappearance from this dimension entirely. Is Sumire dead? Did she literally just stop existing? I have not read on Murakami book that didn't have an open-ending either, so who knows? Seriously, the book might never say what happened to her...