“My goal is to write this blog without ever deleting a word. Mind stream~

Reading. I wouldn’t go as far as saying, “”ah, I wished I had read more when I was younger,”" because I certainly feel like I made proper use of my time as a teen. BUT, with the amount of reading I’m doing now, I find it surprising I didn’t read more when I was but a child. Perhaps, it’s because now I’m reading in Japanese.

I’ve never really been into novels. I read a grand total of …well very few novels until college. That’s not to say I didn’t read or hate books: I was reading sports magazines, nutrition books, and fitness articles everyday in high school. I also read a wealth of books on Japan and Zen Buddhism. However, these are definitely not novels and far from what I consider ‘creative writing.’ There’s a certain element in ‘novels’ that simply doesn’t exist in other forms of ‘literature.’ Anyway, I’m not very good at Japanese. I thought it would be good for me to practice reading during my free time – i.e. the morning train – instead of just listening to music. Luke, the British bloke who lives next to me, recommended a Haruki Murakami (the same guy who wrote Tony Takitani – yes, it was a book first) novel called, “”Kokkyou no Minami, Taiyou no Nishi”" which translates to “”South of the border, west of the sun.”"

“”Murakami,”" explain Luke, “”writes in a very western style. It is easy for people without ample skill to understand his books.”" Oh I see. Now I thought to myself, “”This is a proper Japanese book, it’s not a high school textbook. This is something that a normal Japanese person reads for leisure. There is no way that I would be able to understand this with my current level of Japanese.”" Regardless, I wanted to give it a shot and bought a copy at the bookstore in Kawasaki station. I also purchased a denshijisho, or electronic dictionary. So, what is it like reading a book in Japanese? To me, it’s something like this:

Imagine being dropped off in a town you’ve never been to. Yes, of course it’s scary at first. You have no clue where you are, you have no clue where the hots spots are, and no clue where you need to go for the necessities. The going is slow. Gradually you being to explore the foreign town things fall into place. Like any town, there is a supermarket, a city hall, and great restaurants. The more time you spend time in the town the more things make sense to you – after a while everything begins to feel natural. “”Sure enough, this is simply another town, similar to my own, but with its own unique beauty.”"

To me, that’s what reading a book in Japanese feels like. At first it seemed impossible. There would be paragraphs when I understood little to none of what was written. But, the more I read, the more I pick up. Not only that, but I seem to be subconsciously picking up new words and grammar points as I read. It’s fan-tas-tic.

Finally, and probably most importantly, I’ve discovered what a joy it is to read novels. Of course it’s hard to appreciate everything in a foreign language, but there are passages when I distinctly pick out the metaphor or subliminal meaning. Those are the times that really make me smile. After having a blog of my own and learning to appreciate writing, it makes reading a completely different experience. I don’t mean to sound like your parents, but if you’re not a reader, I would definitely recommend picking up a book or two the next time you pass borders. Hell, you might even be able to find a translation of a Murakami book, or two.

I read somewhere its always best to close with a quote, so here is the intro to the book I’m tearing through. I’ll provide the Japanese and English translations:

Boku ga umareta no ha senkyuugojuuichi nen no ichi gatsu yokka da. nijuu seiki no kouhan no saishou no nen no saishou no gatsu no saishou no shuu to iu koto ni naru. kinenteki to ieba kinenteki no ienakumonai. sono okage de, boku ha ‘hajime’ to iu namae wo ataerareru koto ni natta. Demo, sore wo betsuni sureba, boku no shusshou ni kanshite tokuhitsu subekikoto ha hotondo nanimonai.

I was born on January 4th, 1951. It was the first week of the first month of the first year in the second half of the twentieth century. Maybe you can call it call it a commemoration, maybe not. Anyway, by that means I was give the name “”Beginning.”" But beyond that, my my birth is nothing to celebrate.

Train hard!”