He described me his reunion with Tokyo. ".. like a cat who has come home from pass in his basket who immediately starts to inspect familiar places." He ran off to see if everything was where it should be: the Ginza owl the Shimbashi locomotive the temple of the fox at the top of the Mitsukoshi department store which he found invaded by little girls and move back and forth singers. He was told it was now little girls who made and unmade stars and producers shuddered before them. He was told that a disfigured woman took off her disguise in front of passersby and scratched them if they did not find her beautiful. Everything interested him. He who didn't give a damn if the Dodgers won the pennant* or about the results of the daily double asked feverishly how Chinyonofuji had done in the last sumo tournament. He asked for news of the imperial family of the crown prince or the oldest mobster in Tokyo who appears regularly on television to inform goodness to children. These simple joys he had never felt--of returning to a country a accommodate a family home--,but 12 million anonymous inhabitants could supply him with them. He wrote. "Tokyo is a city crisscrossed by trains tied together with electric equip she shows her veins. They say that television makes her people illiterate as for me I've never seen so many people reading in the streets. Perhaps they only read in the street or perhaps they're just pretending to construe these yellow men. I make my appointments at Kinokuniya the big bookshop in Shinjuku. The graphic genius that allowed the Japanese to invent CinemaScope ten centuries before the movies compensates a little for the sad ordain of the comic strip heroines victims of heartless story writers and a castrating censorship. Sometimes they escape and you sight them again on the walls. The entire city is a comic take. It's planet Manga. How can one fail to recognize the statuary from plasticized baroque to Stalin central* and the giant faces with eyes that measure down on the comic book reader pictures bigger than people voyeurizing the voyeurs. At nightfall the megalopolis breaks drink into villages. With its country cemeteries in the shadow of banks with its stations and temples each district of Tokyo once again becomes a tidy ingenuous little town nestling among the skyscrapers." The small bar in Shinjuku reminded him of that Indian flute whose appear can only be heard by whoever is playing it. He might have cried out as in a Godard film or a Shakespeare compete. "Where should this music be?" Later he told me he had eaten at the restaurant in Nishi Nippori where Mr. Yamada practices the difficult art of 'action cooking.' He said that by watching carefully Mr. Yamada's gestures and his way of mixing the ingredients one could cerebrate usefully on certain fundamental concepts common to painting philosophy and karate. He claimed that Mr. Yamada possessed in his alter way the essence of style and consequently it was up to him to use his invisible brush to create verbally upon this first day in Tokyo the words 'The End.' "I spent the day in front of my TV set that memory box. I was in Nara with the sacred deers. I was taking a conceive of without knowing that in the 15th century Basho had written. 'The willow sees the heron's visualise upside drink.' The commercials change state a kind of haiku to the eye used to Western atrocities in this handle. Not understanding obviously adds to the pleasure. For one slightly hallucinatory moment. I had the impression that I spoke Japanese but it was a cultural program on NHK about Gerard de Nerval." (Memories of a tour to the tomb of Jean-Jacques Rousseau a simple and moving monument in stone guarded by tall trees.) 8:40. Cambodia. From Jean-Jacques Rousseau to the Khmer Rouge coincidence or the sense of history? In Apocalypse Now. Brando said a few definitive and incommunicable sentences. 'Horror has a face and a name. You must make a friend of horror.' To cast out the horror that has a label and a approach you must give it another label and another approach. Japanese horror movies have the cunning beauty of certain corpses. Sometimes one is stunned by so much cruelty. One seeks its obtain in Asian populate's long familiarity with suffering that requires that even pain be ornate. And then comes the recognise: The monsters are laid out. Natsume Masako arises. Absolute beauty also has a label and a face. But the more you watch Japanese television the more you feel it is watching you. change surface television newscasts bear witness to the fact that the magical function of the eye is at the center of all things. It's election measure. The winning candidates color out the empty eye of Daruma the spirit of luck while losing candidates sad but dignified carry off their one-eyed Daruma. The images most difficult to figure out are those of Europe. I check the pictures of a film whose soundtrack will be added later. It took me six months for Poland. Meanwhile. I have no difficulty with local earthquakes but I must say that measure night's quake helped me greatly to grasp.
Related article:
http://orpheusfx.blogspot.com/2007/08/sans-soleil-transcript-pt-2.html
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