Friday, November 14, 2008

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

I recently read Murakami's What I Talk About When I Talk About Running (of course I dig the reference), and though the book's taken a good deal of flack for its 'inanity' and lack of fluidity post-translation, I really liked it. So what if it's a little disorganized; actually, this seems almost fitting, the way he dips in and out of topics, sometimes returning to point A, other times not. Running's like this, after all, marked by all sorts of wayward/tangential thought patterns. And the 'inane' claim I think is unduly harsh/unreasonable, as the mental aspects of running can/do lend pretty readily to cliche--often because this really is the best way to explain it, you know? But, then, I suppose this claim can be made about any number of things. Aaanyway, it's hardly flawless, but the book has enough redeeming elements to have made it well-worth my reading-while. Here are a few passages that stood out for me:

"...for some reason I never cared all that much whether I beat others or lost to them. This sentiment remained pretty much unchanged after I grew up. It doesn’t matter what field you’re talking about--beating somebody else just doesn’t do it for me. I’m much more interested in whether I reach the goals that I set for myself, so in this sense long-distance running is the perfect fit for a mindset like mine."

"As I run I tell myself to think of a river. And clouds. But essentially I’m not thinking of a thing. All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says."

"No matter how slow I might run, I wasn’t about to walk. That was the rule. Break one of my rules once, and I’m bound to break many more. And if I’d done that, it would have been next to impossible to finish this race."

"To deal w/ something unhealthy, a person needs to be as healthy as possible. That’s my motto. In other words, an unhealthy soul requires a healthy body. This might sound paradoxical, but it’s something I’ve felt very keenly ever since I became a professional writer. The healthy and the unhealthy are not necessarily at opposite ends of the spectrum. They don’t stand in opposition to each other, but rather complement each other, and in some cases even band together. Sure, many people who are on a healthy track in life think only of good health, while those who are getting unhealthy think only of that. But if you follow this sort of one-sided view, your life won’t be fruitful. ... Some writers who in their youth wrote wonderful, beautiful, powerful works find that when they reach a certain age exhaustion suddenly takes over. The term ‘literary burnout’ is quite apt here. Their later works may still be beautiful, and their exhaustion might impart its own special meaning, but it’s obvious these writers’ creative energy is in decline. This results, I believe, from their physical energy not being able to overcome the toxin they’re dealing w/. The physical vitality that up till now was naturally able to overcome the toxin has passed its peak, and its effectiveness in their immune systems is gradually wearing off. When this happens it’s difficult for a writer to remain intuitively creative. The balance between imaginative power and the physical abilities that sustain it has crumbled. The writer is left employing the techniques and methods he has cultivated, using a kind of residual heat to mold something into what looks like a literary work--a restrained method that can’t be a very pleasant journey. Some writers take their own lives at this point, while others just give up writing and choose another path."

Good stuff.

Posted by princess kanomanom @ 3:40 PM