夕ご飯の後、お茶を淹れてくれていた彼に私は公園に行きたいと言った。
今日は夕方スーパーに買い物に行ったのを除けば外出していなかったし、夜風にあたって少し歩きたい気分だった。ちょうど新宿中央公園の広場がEvening Barという夏限定のイベント会場になっていて、屋台を乗せた軽トラが幾つか軒を並べ、人口の滝をバックにテーブルと椅子も準備されていて、仕事帰りのサラリーマンやOLが新宿の高層ビルが放つ夜景をビールを手に楽しんでいた。この広場は朝はラジオ体操の場所であり、昼間はスケボーや演劇を練習する若者が集い、そしてときにホームレスが食料の供給を受ける場所にもなる。目の前にあるビルは都庁。その先にも未だに溜息が出るくらい高いビルが幾つも並ぶ。こんな大きな街に住むのは私は初めてのことだ。高校を卒業するまではのどかな信州松本で育ち、上京してからは大学のあった世田谷区のできるだけ静かな住宅街を探して、等々力という大井町沿線の町に2年住んだ。それから渡米して10年ほどアメリカの南部や中西部で暮らしたが、どの町も大きくはなかった。
新宿中央公園には私の知る限り野良猫が3匹いて、その中で最も愛嬌があるのがメスの三毛猫「ほっこり」だ。今夜もほっこりにあげるための餌をポッケに入れて公園に行った。ほっこりは今朝ラジオ体操の時に見かけたのと同じベンチに座って、知らない男の人になでられて目を細めていた。その人が去って行った後にすかさずほっこりに餌をあげようと近づいたが、さほどお腹がすいていなかったらしく、あまり餌にも私にも関心を示そうとしなかった。
公園内の「アスレチック」をひととおり試してみた後、私達はいつもとは違う道を通ってアパートに帰ることにした。信号を渡ればすぐ、というところでポツ、ポツ、と雨が降り始めて、あっという間に大粒の雨に変わり、家に着く頃には雷混じりの豪雨になっていた。これから銭湯に行こうと話していた矢先だったので、暫くは外に出られないね、と雨でびしょぬれになった彼の髪を、エレベーターの中でそっとなでた。
その雨はどうやら通り雨だったらしく、30分もすると小降りになっていた。雨が止むのを待ち構えていた私達は、銭湯道具をかごに入れてそれっと外に飛び出した。外に出ると近くのスナック・カラオケから出て来た5〜6人の客が輪になって何かをしきりに話し、通りを塞いでいて、私達はなかなか前に進めない。やっと気付いたその中のひとりが「ほら、邪魔だよ」と通りの真ん中にいた女性を端の方に追いやってくれた。彼は念のために持って来た傘を手に持っていたので、さっき道を塞いでいた女に傘で『こて!』とか言って突然剣道の小手をしたら面白かったよね、と私が冗談で言ったら、こてって何?と彼。私が中学の体育の授業で剣道が大好きだったことや、ユーモラスかつ技巧的な小手の極意などを話しながら、銭湯までの細い道をふたり歩いた。そんな夜だった。
Friday, July 19, 2013
Monday, July 1, 2013
"reader's high"
June came and went. July suddenly appeared out of nowhere, without notice, and I haven't the faintest idea how quickly time can pass. The weather has been beautiful despite it supposedly being the rainy season in Japan. I read three books. As soon as I finished reading "The Notebook", I started reading two books simultaneously. One is Haruki Murakami's new novel, "Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage" and the other is「怒らない禅の作法」—a book about zen. Then I moved on to a new book (essay) by Mariko Hayashi, which was too trashy to even mention the book title.
Now I'm reading "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Why Gatsby? Two reasons. Because I saw the movie recently and was curious how the novel was written originally. Also, I found out that it happened to be Haruki Murakami's favorite book of all time. In an essay entitled "As Translator, as Novelist," Haruki Murakami notes, "When someone asks, 'Which three books have meant the most to you?' I can answer without having to think: THE GREAT GATSBY, Dostoevsky's THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV, and Raymond Chandler's THE LONG GOODBYE. All three have been indispensable to me (both as a reader and as a writer); yet if I were forced to select only one, I would unhesitatingly choose GATSBY. Had it not been for Fitzgerald's novel, I would not be writing the kind of literature I am today (indeed, it is possible that I would not be writing at all, although that is neither here not there)."
Anyway...why can I not stop reading lately? Am I experiencing the "reader's high"? Last fall, I experienced what seemed like the runner's high for the first time and this spring I had the writer's high after finishing up the master's thesis I'd written for 1 year. As a reader's high symptom, I feel restless unless I have new books waiting in the queue. I'm already chapter 3 of Gatsby and starting to feel anxious about the next book. I'm thinking of reading some old books by Murakami. There are still a surprising number of books by him that I haven't read yet, and his famous"Kafka on the Shore" may become my next victim.
Now I'm reading "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Why Gatsby? Two reasons. Because I saw the movie recently and was curious how the novel was written originally. Also, I found out that it happened to be Haruki Murakami's favorite book of all time. In an essay entitled "As Translator, as Novelist," Haruki Murakami notes, "When someone asks, 'Which three books have meant the most to you?' I can answer without having to think: THE GREAT GATSBY, Dostoevsky's THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV, and Raymond Chandler's THE LONG GOODBYE. All three have been indispensable to me (both as a reader and as a writer); yet if I were forced to select only one, I would unhesitatingly choose GATSBY. Had it not been for Fitzgerald's novel, I would not be writing the kind of literature I am today (indeed, it is possible that I would not be writing at all, although that is neither here not there)."
Anyway...why can I not stop reading lately? Am I experiencing the "reader's high"? Last fall, I experienced what seemed like the runner's high for the first time and this spring I had the writer's high after finishing up the master's thesis I'd written for 1 year. As a reader's high symptom, I feel restless unless I have new books waiting in the queue. I'm already chapter 3 of Gatsby and starting to feel anxious about the next book. I'm thinking of reading some old books by Murakami. There are still a surprising number of books by him that I haven't read yet, and his famous"Kafka on the Shore" may become my next victim.
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