按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
understand how happy you've made me。 I know it's going to save me
if anything will。 I may not show it； but it's true。〃
〃I'll e to see you again；〃 I said。 〃And what is the other wish？〃
〃I want you always to remember me。 Will you remember that I
existed； and that I stood next to you here like this？〃
〃Always；〃 I said。 〃I'll always remember。〃
She walked on without speaking。 The autumn light filtering through
the branches danced over the shoulders of her jacket。 A dog barked
again； closer than before。 Naoko climbed a small mound； walked out
of the forest and hurried down a gentle slope。 I followed two or three
steps behind。
〃e over here；〃 I called towards her back。 〃The well might be
around here somewhere。〃 Naoko stopped and smiled and took my
arm。 We walked the rest of the way side by side。 〃Do you really
promise never to forget me？〃 she asked in a near whisper。
〃I'll never forget you；〃 I said。 〃I could never forget you。〃
Even so； my memory has grown increasingly dim； and I have already
forgotten any number of things。 Writing from memory like this； I
often feel a pang of dread。 What if I've forgotten the most important
thing？ What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all
the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud？
Be that as it may； it's all I have to work with。 Clutching these faded；
fading； imperfect memories to my breast； I go on writing this book
with all the desperate intensity of a starving man sucking on bones。
This is the only way I know to keep my promise to Naoko。
Once； long ago； when I was still young； when the memories were far
more vivid than they are now； I often tried to write about her。 But I
couldn't produce a line。 I knew that if that first line would e； the
rest would pour itself onto the page； but I could never make it happen。
Everything was too sharp and clear； so that I could never tell where to
start … the way a map that shows too much can sometimes be useless。
Now； though； I realize that all I can place in the imperfect vessel of
writing are imperfect memories and imperfect thoughts。 The more the
memories of Naoko inside me fade； the more deeply I am able to
understand her。 I know； too； why she asked me not to forget her。
Naoko herself knew； of course。 She knew that my memories of her
would fade。 Which is precisely why she begged me never to forget
her； to remember that she had existed。
The thought fills me with an almost unbearable sorrow。 Because
Naoko never loved me。
10。txt
Norwegian Wood
10
Thinking back on the year 1969； all that es to mind for me is a
swamp … a deep； sticky bog that feels as if it's going to suck off my
shoe each time I take a step。 I walk through the mud； exhausted。 In
front of me； behind me； I can see nothing but the endless darkness of a
swamp。
Time itself slogged along in rhythm with my faltering steps。 The
people around me had gone on ahead long before； while my time and I
hung back； struggling through the mud。 The world around me was on
the verge of great transformations。 Death had already taken John
Coltrane who was joined now by so many others。 People screamed
there'd be revolutionary changes… which always seemed to be just
ahead； at the curve in the road。 But the 〃changes〃 that came were just
two…dimensional stage sets； backdrops without substance or meaning。
I trudged along through each day in its turn； rarely looking up； eyes
locked on the never…ending swamp that lay before me； planting my
right foot； raising my left； planting my left foot； raising my right；
never sure where I was； never sure I was headed in the right direction；
knowing only that I had to keep moving； one step at a time。
I turned 20； autumn gave way to winter； but in my life nothing
changed in any significant way。 Unexcited； I went to my lectures；
worked three nights a week in the record shop reread The Great
Gatsby now and then； and when Sunday came I would do my washing
and write a long letter to Naoko。 Sometimes I would go out with
Midori for a meal or to the zoo or to the cinema。 The sale of the
Kobayashi Bookshop went as planned； and Midori and her sister
moved into a two…bedroom flat near Myogadani； a more upmarket
neighbourhood。 Midori would move out when her sister got married；
and rent a flat by herself； she said。 Meanwhile； she invited me to their
new place for lunch once。 It was a sunny； handsome flat； and Midori
seemed to enjoy living there far more than she had above th e
Kobayashi Bookshop。
Every once in a while； Nagasawa would suggest that we go out on one
of our excursions； but I always found something else to do instead。 I
just didn't want the hassle。 Not that I didn't like the idea of sleeping
with girls： it was just that； when I thought about the whole process I
had to go through … drinking in town； looking for the right kind of
girls； talking to them； going to a hotel … it was all too much effort。 I
had to admire Nagasawa all the more for the way he could continue
the ritual without ever getting sick and tired of it。 Maybe what
Hatsumi had said to me had had some effect： I could make myself feel
far happier just thinking about Naoko than sleeping with some stupid；
anonymous girl。 The sensation of Naoko's fingers bringing me to
climax in a grassy field remained vivid inside me。
I wrote to her at the beginning of December to ask if it would be all
right for me to e and visit her during the winter holidays。 An
answer came from Reiko saying they would love to have me。 She
explained that Naoko was having trouble writing and that she was
answering for her。 I was not to take this to mean that Naoko was
feeling especially bad： there was no need for me to worry。 These
things came in waves。
When the holidays came； I stuffed my things into my rucksack； put on
snow boots and set out for Kyoto。 The odd doctor had been right： the
winter mountains blanketed in snow were incredibly beautiful。 As
before； I slept two nights in the flat with Naoko and Reiko； and spent
three days with them doing much the same kind of things as before。
When the sun went down； Reiko would play her guitar and the three
of us would sit around talking。 Instead of our picnic； we went cross…
country skiing。 An hour of tramping through the woods on skis left us
breathless and sweaty。 We also joined the residents and staff
shovelling snow when there was time。 Doctor Miyata popped over to
our table at dinner to explain why people's middle fingers are longer
than their index fingers； while with toes it worked the other way。 The
gatekeeper； Omura； talked to me again about Tokyo pork。 Reiko
enjoyed the records I brought as gifts from the city。 She transcribed a
few tunes and worked them out on her guitar。
Naoko was even less talkative than she had been in the autumn。 When
the three of us were together； she would sit on the sofa； smiling； and
hardly say a word。 Reiko seemed to be chattering away to make up for
her。 〃But don't worry；〃 Naoko told me。 〃This is just one of those
times。 It's a lot more fun for me to listen to you two than to talk
myself。〃
Reik