Haruki Murakami: After the Quake
Along with the gas attack on the Tokyo Subway at the hands of a religious cult, the Kobe earthquake was a significant event in Japan in the 1990s. As with the Tokyo gas attack, Haruki Murakami tackles the after-effects of the earthquake on the media and public opinion, and highlights how such an incident can affect the public collectively on a national level and on the level of individuals; in contrast with his journalistic and factual approach to the former, he instead uses the earthquake as a starting point for a collection of short fictional works. In that sense, After the Quake is a concept album of short stories: none of them depict that infamous natural disaster that struck Kobe in 1995, but instead take a number of people and situations within Japan who are connected to the event in more indirect and abstract ways. Directly or not, all are connected to a common theme: that of a natural disaster coinciding with turning points in their lives.
After the Quake can be enjoyed as a stand-alone anthology of his short stories in the same way as, say, his Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman or The Elephant Vanishes collections. This particular selection however can also be read as a cohesive whole, thanks to that common thread: allusions to earthquakes and the mysteries of nature and coincidence. Inevitably some stories will work better than others from reader to reader, depending on what exactly one wishes to draw from what they have to tell. Some are shocking, some are touching while others are just plain odd - all however exhibit Murakami’s trademark pop culture references, dabblings in the supernatural and brilliantly-realised observations relating to the everyday.
The style of music performed by Irish outfit God is an Astronaut falls under a number of categories that are somewhat constrictive and inaccurate, rarely doing their own individual style justice. Post-rock, shoegaze, nu-gaze, dreampop - none of these really capture it, which is especially apparent when you read of their live shows’ reputation for their visual as well as musical inventiveness. GiaA and similar artists such as Mogwai and Sigur Rós are nevetheless experimenting with how modern music can be redefined while still being melodic and are doing a fine job of it, as the EP A Moment of Stillness ably demonstrates.
MBV effectively drew a line under the ’shoegaze’ scene with their album Loveless but its predecessor Isn’t Anything is a timely reminder of how they themselves helped define the genre in the first place. It may lack the polish and perfectionism of what followed yet in some aspects it actually meets the greatest heights that Kevin Shields and co attained. One point on which this album scores higher than Loveless is how each song, whether the listener finds it to be a highlight or not, is a separate part of the whole rather than a succession of pieces that blur into one; that is to say, it is an album that contains memorable songs that stand out as individual pieces.
There’s some magical quality to the music of the Pillows that, regardless of time or mood, it can somehow make everything seem that little bit brighter and happier. Even when they’re dealing with issues such as lost love and regret for good times gone, their own brand of upbeat guitar pop lifts me without ever coming across as trite or insincere. How in heaven’s name do they do it?
It is hard to believe that Hugh Laurie, the acting talent behind the bumbling Prince George in Blackadder, would go on to take the role of television’s grouchiest and most brilliant medic and win a Golden Globe for his efforts. In an industry that churns out one formulaic drama series after another, it might also seem strange that House M.D., another part of a very crowded ‘medical drama’ genre, could garner so much acclaim; it is after all fundamentally formulaic. The misanthropic hero and his team of talented specialists take on a seemingly insoluble case, which is followed by a slew of potential diagnoses, a patient’s life hangs in the balance then there’s the eventual resolution; it is a polished and modern blend of Quincy and Sherlock Holmes that takes a ‘case of the week’ approach. Within this structure though there is what could possibly be the smartest and most engrossing televised drama of recent years.
After the almost embarrassing brevity of Zwan and a solo album that for some reason never made much of an impact, it’s easy to focus on the circumstances surrounding the revival of the Smashing Pumpkins instead of the songs; even calling it a ‘reunion’ is stretching it a bit when the latest effort contains only half of the original line-up. For all the gossip and sniping at the motivations surrounding Billy Corgan’s decision to reform his old band, the important thing is what should be the outfit’s raison d’etre: the music itself.
Murakami’s follow-up to Kafka on the Shore is a surprisingly short novel but carries on the themes of loneliness, isolation and chance meetings of his previous works, not to mention his characteristically quirky and surreal style. As the title suggests, the story takes place between sunset and sunrise, focusing on an assorted selection of characters who are going about their business while the rest of the world is asleep and unaware. A girl named Mari sits in a Denny’s fast food restaurant when she meets a student named Takahashi, who is practising with his band in a nearby basement; meanwhile Mari’s sister Eri is alone at home in a state of unnaturally deep sleep as her sibling is called into a nearby love hotel to help in an incident involving one of its guests.
