Definitivamente um livro muito bem escrito.
O primeiro de muitos Haruki Murakami que irei ler.
Incrivel como os livros caem em minhas maos exatamente nos momentos em que preciso le-los, ou - como no caso deste, no momento em que preciso ir fundo.
Tenho vivido de uma insonia constante. Demoro a dormir e tenho acordado pela madrugada, quase sempre entre 04:20 e 04:32. E depois, nao volto mais a dormir. Os pensamentos me tomam de assalto. Mergulho em aguas ansiosas. Sem respostas claras, o sono nao volta.
Dores de cabeca sao frequentes.
To ficando velho. Older and Older day by day. Deve ser isso.
Vou repassar alguns trechos do livro. Dois ou tres, curtinhos. Alguns me tocaram.
Se gostar, te empresto depois. OK?
"We were, the two of us, still fragmentary beings, just beginning to sense the presence of an unexpected, to-be-acquired reality that would fill us and make us whole. We stood before the door we'd never seen before. The two of us alone, beneath a faintly flickering light, our hands tightly clasped together for a fleeting ten seconds of time."
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"Our world's exactly the same. Rain falls and the flowers bloom. Noo rain, they wither up. Bugs are eaten by lizards, lizards are eaten by birds. But in the end, every one of then dies. They die and dry up. One generation dies, and the next one takes over. That's how it goes. Lots of diferent ways to live. And lots of diferent ways to die. But in the end that doesn't make a bit of difference. All that remains is a desert."
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"(...) Nat King Cole was singing 'South of the border'. How many years had it been since I heard that tune?
'When I was a kid and listened to this record, I used to wonder what it was that lay south of the border', I said.
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'Me too', she said. 'When I grew up and could read the English lyrics, I was disappointed. It was just a song about Mexico. I'd always thought something great lay south of the border'.
'Like what?'
Shimamoto brushed her hair back and lightly gathered it behind. 'I'm not sure. Something beautiful, big and soft.'
'Something beautiful, big, and soft', I repeated. 'Was it edible?'
She laughed. Her white teeth showed faintly. 'I doubt it'.
'Something you can touch?'
'Probably'."
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" 'But what is there, west of the sun?' I asked."
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"As I had looked deep into her eyes and called out her name, my own body was dragged down into those depths. As if a vacuum had sucked out all the air around me, that other world was steadily pulling me closer. Even now I could feel its power. It wanted me.
I closed my eys tight. And drove those memories from my mind.
I reached out and stroked her hair. I touched her ears, rested my hand on her forehead. Her body was warm and soft. She sucked on my penis as if trying to suck out life itself. Her hand, communicating in some secret sign language, continued to move between her legs, under her skirt. A short time later, I came in her mouth; her hand under her skirt ceased moving, and she closed her eyes. She swallowed down the very last drop of my semen."
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"Inside that darkness, I saw rain falling on the sea. Rain softly falling on a vast sea, with no one there to see it. The rain strikes the surface of the sea, yeat even the fish don't know it is raining.
Until someone came and lightly rested a hand on my shoulder, my thoughts were of the sea."
