Thursday, 22 April 2010

Murakami In Pastels

there are times when, and you must know this, that your spirit rises up like mercury. silver shot and liquid and your word weave fits so perfectly into our waking dreams that acquiescence to your sprite like soul is the only affordable mode of being.
softly, softly, catchee monkey.
down past the golden dunes where the surf meets the fantasy of your piquant prose i tumble meekly into the milky void.
where the white winds whip passionate droplets of emotion like snowflakes taken and enlarged from screen size zero to screen size seventeen ten zero zero by seventeen ten zero zero.

snowflakes in brittle spring sun.
snowdrops in bitter winter winds. 
you compose your magic out of sinuous cobwebs titanium spun but with the fragile feel and look of rice paper. a captivating concoction that leans upon the rickety crutch of realism as it bends our thoughts like malleable plasticine into a lantern lit frame.
like vapour trails that look as though they were made of chromium but in reality are fragile lace.

shadow dancing on silk curtains. 
an epiphany of you.

for a fistful of your imagination i would cast my soul into the void.
to follow in your footfall is an impossible task as the road they take leads us into the heart of the sun and beyond and i am but a hollow icarus.

a shallow shadow in the pastel shades of you.


Anonymous said...

Hello C.J Duffy! Your writing is as creatively refreshing as I remember it :)

Don't know if you remember me - Pincushion (Anjali) from the blog 'The Glass Wall' - we even met once! And then I disappeared from the blogger world, as life intervened. Now I am back with a new blog 'LIFESCAPES'

Do drop by when you can!

twh said...

of course it should happen that i get to the end of my commentary and i try to scroll up to read your post one more time that it clears everything and goes to your most recent listing.

i shall return.

twh said...

of course, now that i'm attempting to recreate my response (with no previous notes) do i falter at the start. initially, i wanted to inquire whether murakami's use of color motivated your use of color. but i scrapped that.

instead i will pick your brain and ask what you thought about murakami's use of color as a metaphor. the most telling use i found was the 'guide' or 'signpost', if you will. it is generally a secondary, or even tertiary, character and invariably a woman that either wears a signature color or colorful clothes. if you recall in 'the wind-up bird chronicle', toru okada goes to meet malta kano for the first time and is fixated on her red vinyl hat which does not match her stylish clothes. not long after the initial meeting do things really start to get strange.

and when you get the chance to delve into 'hard boiled wonderland and the end of the world', you will encounter the same thing in the scientist's chubby, nubile granddaughter who wears only pink. it's rather like the last glimpse of light you get before you descend into the darkness which murakami's protagonists always seem to do. whether good or bad, sometimes it is the last profound color that the hero recalls.

color, as you well know, is a refraction of light and doesn't cast a shadow since it has no corporeal form. something to keep in mind when reading anything by murakami as it is never really made clear whether these colorful characters are merely a figment our the protagonist's imagination. a mental signpost perhaps guiding him there and back maybe?

my final thought is that i loved your lyricism and cut-up. do it again.

your thoughts?

Russell Duffy said...

Pincushion! Yes, of course I remember you. I loved your old blog and enjoyed meeting you all those years ago. I fear I was a grave disappointment. I'll pop by and take a look at your blog later/

Russell Duffy said...

Most of what I right, apart from my fictions, relies upon instinct, intuition and not the intellect. I tend to 'feel' something rather than intellectualize it. Having said that, yes, Murakami does use colours in his work and yes, I do recall that meeting and the way those vibrant hues somehow manifest another layer of narrative.

The facts of shadows being cast, or not, are undeniable but in the world of the immmateria, where I seem so often to live, such things are maya.

Glad you liked the cut-up techinique.

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A Utility Fish Shed Blog