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Diary Entry 1981-2 : To Vancouver !

Tag: English 1981 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1982 ← Please click here.
Tag: English 1983 ← Please click here.
Other English Version ← Please click here.

b0071688_19025264.jpg

# To Vancouver!

I am finally breaking away from Japan. Japanese society is oppressive, and I haven’t been able to find my place in it. I don’t perceive myself as a “Japanese”. I have never managed to “become a member of society” in this country.

And now, “This useless garbage is leaving for Canada!”
I was born in 1952, and raised in Japan. As such, I can’t even imagine the chaos of war and government oppression that once pervaded my country.


In 1998, the number of truant elementary school children in Japan rose above a hundred thousand. I went to school until the 5th grade and then I stopped attending it. But I never had problems because of the lack of schooling. This is because I never had to write a CV for a job application or a family chart and personal history for a formal marriage interview, owing to the fact that I never had to worry whether I’d be able to provide food on my table.

Even though I’m 28, I am really like a small girl. When my life turned into the fight against illness, I made a habit of withdrawing into my own world. I’d lived without facing any of the real world’s hardships、 focusing solely on my own body.

When I was 22, I was taken to madness of loosing my sight and my hearing. I was in a world of darkness, in which my whole body had been benumbed and I constantly suffered from flatulence. In my despair I even considered suicide. On windy days or before rain, my body hurt so much I’d want to die. I asked myself if there was any good from me living in this world.

The world I live in is a special world between “this world” (sag) and “the next world” (navyug). My parents left me in care of a spiritualist once, and she told me then, “With so many spirits coming to you, you will never be able to lead a life free of suffering.”

Like Prince Chagum, I myself have an experience of turning into a pure spirit and flying to spirit world. I swear the person who led me the way was the very same “Zarathustra” of Nietzsche’s.

The misery of carrying the weight of not only the suffering of people of this world, but that of people of the next world too is expressed in music of Robert Schumann. That is why I love Schumann.


I am a synaesthete, like Vladimir Nabokov. Synaesthetes are people whose senses of sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste are jumbled together. Those with such ability often have extraordinary faculty of memory. What is characteristic for synaesthetes is that their perception of time is different from other people.

Nabokov, Rimbaud, Proust, Joyce, Scriabin and Richter were all synaesthetes. When a synaesthete hears a sound, they also feel colours, shapes, scents and tactile sensations. When they feel a sound, synaesthetes can express its colour.
“I don’t like the sound of Wilhelm Backhaus’ music because it is brown.”
“I dislike Claudio Arrau’s music because it feels hot.”
I personally am quite fascinated by G major. This is because I love the temperature of pastel colours, which is neither hot nor cold, and because I don’t like sounds that remind of thick colour.

I think Nietzsche – though I do love him – would not be able to understand me. That is why I envy Nijinsky (a ballet dancer) who claimed, “I trust Nietzsche can understand me.” However, I believe Nabokov could understand me.

I wonder if Gould will really be able to accept me. I wonder if the day will come in Canada when my longtime hopes get through to him.


I am thinking about my uncle who died in the Pacific War. There are those who have to die even though they don’t want to die. My uncle, who was a geologist, was good at piano. He played Beethoven’s sonatas the morning he went to the front. He was conscripted as a civilian in military employ. He died one year and four months later when, at midnight on the 1st of April 1945, the Awa Maru that was on its way back home to Japan was attacked and sunk by an American submarine off the coast of Taiwan. He was 28 years and six months old at the time.

Both my uncle and I were born in September in the Year of the Dragon. My uncle loved music, and he left that love in this world before dying. Honouring those feelings is one of the reasons why in Canada I want to stop wishing for death.
Without a doubt, our ancestors’ feelings sleep buried deeply in our hearts. I have felt my uncle’s love of music flowing in my blood.

I wonder what experiences are waiting for me in Canada. But I have no fears, because Glenn Gould will be there. It is common knowledge that if one’s fan turned into a bit of a stalker one can go about one’s business without much fear. I can only be an object of Gould’s dislike for being a nuisance, or he could come to receive me with some friendly feelings.

“There is no way Gould will agree to meet me. But in spite that, I have to go.”
It is sad to see that people who love exquisite things, most often end up leading trivial and mediocre lives.



Translated by Saiko  


Previous page : Prologue Departure

Japanese version of this page ・81年2・ヴァンクーヴァーへ 


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by mhara21 | 2017-06-24 19:45 | 後追い日記81年 | Comments(0)
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