Ianuarie 2021 este luna literaturii japoneze, dupa cum mi-am promis acum multa vreme.
Urmatoarele cuvinte mi-au atarnat de ganduri de-a lungul lecturii, si imi persista inca in zambet:
“The Forest of Wool and Steel has won several prizes in Japan – including the prestigious Japan Booksellers’ Award, in which booksellers vote for the title they most enjoy selling in store – and became a bestseller.”
Imi pare atat de gingasa si sensibila ideea votului – cartea pe care te bucura sa o vinzi; de ce?! raspunsul este presimtit si construit printre idei si emotii, iar raspunsul meu isi dezvaluie un strat de un val de tandrete…
Cartea este despre calea spre a deveni acordor de pian – inceputul, tanjeala, indoielile, tehnici, muzica, persistenta, emotii, profesia si universul, excelsior, cautarea sunetului perfect… o scriere placuta, care curge incetisor, insa apasator si sinestezic…
Doua citate din cele peste doua sute subliniate de-a lungul lecturii:
* Tuning is similar. You select things of beauty that have dissolved into the fabric of the world. You gingerly extract that beauty, careful not to damage it, and then you make it visible.
* ‘Tomura, are you familiar with Tamiki Hara?’
I’d heard the name. I didn’t think he was a piano tuner. Was he a concert pianist?
‘This is the way he put it.’ Mr Itadori cleared his throat and sat up. ‘Bright, quiet, crystal-clear writing that evokes fond memories, that seems a touch sentimental yet is unsparing and deep, writing as lovely as a dream, yet as exact as reality.’
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but then it hit me. Tamiki Hara was a novelist. A name I’d learned at school in Japanese literature lessons.
‘Tamiki Hara wrote that he was enraptured by this kind of writing, and when I first read his words I was carried away. I felt that this exactly described the ideal sound I was hoping for.’
He’d substituted sound for writing.