Monday, June 18, 2007

A giant octopus living way down deep at the bottom of the ocean

While I was reading this passage in Murakami’s latest novel, After Dark, I was reminded of OCTOPULPS and the related Octopia Blog

“So once I started having thoughts like this, everything began looking different to me. To my eyes, this system I was observing, this ‘trial’ thing itself, began to take on the appearance of some special, weird creature.”
“Weird creature?”
“Like, say, an octopus. A giant octopus living way down deep at the bottom of the ocean. It has this tremendously powerful life force, a bunch of long, undulating legs, and it's heading somewhere, moving through the darkness of the ocean. I'm sitting here listening to these trials, and all I can see in my head is this creature. It takes on all kinds of different shapes--sometimes it's "the nation," and sometimes it's "the law," and sometimes it takes on shapes that are more difficult and dangerous than that . . . and this creature, this thing doesn't give a damn that I'm me or you're you. In its presence, all human beings lose their names and their faces. We all turn into signs, into numbers.”

BTW, if you haven’t submitted your 6 Degrees of Casey Serin™ to Tony the Tiger entry, the voting will soon begin, so hurry up!

8 comments:

Akubi said...

Murst!
More on the novel...
While I didn’t think _After Dark_ was one of Haruki Murakami’s best novels, I still love everything he writes and this is another intriguing passage:

“You know what I think?” she says. “That people’s memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive. Whether those memories have any actual importance or not, it doesn’t matter as far as the maintenance of life is concerned. They’re all just fuel. Advertising fillers in the newspaper, philosophy books, dirty pictures in a magazine, a bundle of ten-thousand-yen bills: when you feed ‘em to the fire, they’re all just paper. The fire isn’t thinking, ‘Oh, this is Kant,’ or ‘Oh, this is the Yomiuri evening edition,’ or ‘Nice tits,’ while it burns. To the fire, they’re nothing but scraps of paper. It’s the exact same thing. Important memories, not-so-important memories, totally useless memories: there’s no distinction-they’re all just fuel.”

Schnapps said...

I think maybe I should read that.

Really, Akubi, you should start a book list in the sidebar or something :)

Akubi said...

Totally monetizing that angle, Schnapps.
I believe I now have enough passive income to buy a mocha at Starbucks this month, but I don't like Starbucks and I don't like sugar in my coffee (or tea, for that matter).

Schnapps said...

But you could get a shot of wheatgrass instead :>

Akubi said...

K,
I must confess I like wheatgrass shots.

Schnapps said...

Can't say I've ever tried it.

Although, I have to say, that's almost TMI :>

Ogg the Caveman said...

Hmm. From the title I was expecting something a bit more Lovecraftian.

Akubi said...

Actually, I grew my own wheatgrass for a while. It really isn't so bad - particularly when you happen to be stuck somewhere with crappy produce and want some greens.

Ogg, Murakami is better than Lovecraft, but a different genre...