autumnsoliloquy90 | the woman in the dunes (abe kobo, teshigahara hiroshi) (Reply)

“I didn’t understand. But life isn’t something one can understand, I suppose. There are all kinds of life, and sometimes the other side of the hill looks greener. What’s hardest for me is not knowing what living like this will ever come to. But obviously you can never know, no matter what sort of life you live. Somehow I can’t help but feel it would be better to have a little more to keep busy with.”

-- The man, The Woman in the Dunes, Abe Kobo

This is the first time I've actually liked the film adaptation as much as the original novel itself, not one more than the other. In its very essence, the story is a very simple one, that of a lost person finding his purpose in nothingness. (Or is it the sound of settling? the devil asks.) Actually this whole finding yourself and your happiness in the most unlikely places, especially that in letting go of the typical material things sounds so Buddhist to me. The whole Nirvana concept. Except Kobo Abe isn't exactly Buddhist. Nor of the Japanese Shintoism.

I read the English translation of the book so much more insightful stuff must have been lost in translation. But nevertheless, despite the simplicity of it, its message is actually very profound. It sounds like a cliche, but cliches were once truth and probably are still the real truths, until familiarity breeds contempt and degrades them to such a contemptible term like "a cliche". It reminds me of that legendary D.F. Wallace commencement speech in a way.

I wonder if Niki Jumpei is basically representative of all men (and women). Maybe that's why we are familiarised with him more as "the man". We only truly find out his name at the very end. This was the film that made me so happy few months ago. Er, actually "happy" doesn't quite describe what it was. It was uplifting and depressing at the same time. In my own interpretation (and this might be completely off compared to what the author really intended) the main point or "message" (LOL it sounds like "the moral of the story is...") -- the main point is that life wasn't supposed to be the grand thing we all expect it to be. I was about to say "the grand thing media and corporate world are making it out to be", but while yes, they deserve the blame for almost every screwed-up shit in the world, repeating such a mantra encourages active ascribing of blame to external forces. Now doesn't that promote narcissism?

Back to the main point. There isn't a Next Big Thing. Or even The Big Thing. Or The One. Or maybe you and I were never meant to be that great. (Funny though -- JKR once told this to herself prior to HP phenomenon.) You can try, and according to the old, well-proven adage that with hard work you can accomplish anything, after several attempts even a fool can become intelligent. But there is no great thing. If I were religious, I would even say that there is no great thing in this life because it doesn't exist on this earthly world. Everyone's life is just as shitty as yours. See what I mean by it being consoling and depressing at the same time.

It's so easy to settle, but how do you even define settling? Did The Man settle by feeling like "he was still in the hole but he felt like he were already out of it"? Or is it true happiness, accepting that "such is life", truly accepting these things and having a burden off your shoulders and basically feeling true bliss and lightness of being? You can say it's all determined by your feelings. If you feel regret or doubt or hesitation then it is settling for less, if euphoria or even just carefree equanimity (word of the day from jm) then it's true happiness. But who's to say that such feelings ever came from the decision itself? Like I always say, man is but a function of hormones.

As for the eponymous Woman in the Dunes, she is never named. For some reason I think she is representative of Yamato Nadeshiko, the classic Japanese idea of a beautiful woman. You know, the typical cliched shit about Japanese/Asian women -- submissive, never looking a man directly (except to seduce, according to Memoirs of a Geisha *snort*), fair-skinned, voluptuous beneath those layerific robes, lacking in opinion. While the Woman fulfills the personality criteria but not the physical description (quite the opposite, in fact), it is exactly her passive subservience and resignation to her fate that disgust him, and he is attracted against his will to her dark, rough and overly ripe body. A sign of changing tastes of post-war Japanese men, or is this Kobo Abe's commentary on something else deep within Japanese society? No idea.

Despite the Woman's seemingly repulsive character traits, by the end of it it is obvious that the Man is able to sink lower than a dog for survival, once again putting the female on a pedestal. Now I love this reverse sexism, but what's with Japanese obsession with romanticising the female? It's a nice touch, but still... it can lead to some weird uh.. stuff.

I really like Kobo Abe's works. I've just started on The Box Man and I already love it. Maybe I subconsciously want to like it because of my similar background to the author, but that's just over-self-psychoanalysis. Times like these I wish I could read Japanese. I can't tell much about his writing style from the translated work, apart from that he structures his sentences concisely and he has a very scientific voice throughout his novels. But maybe that's just a quirk of Japanese language. I have no idea. I love his description of the sand, which almost always makes me feel like I'm living in a desert with the grains of 8mm sand sticking everywhere. It adds to the uncomfortable feeling the Man has being stuck in a hole with no hope of future prospects.

I guess in the end every student revolutionary, every passionate idealistic youth, every tree-hugging hippie, every underground band would sell-out, sell their souls to The Man (not Niki Jumpei but er, The Man). Maybe it isn't so bad after all. Maybe happiness is really all just in the mind.