Norwegian Wood

I finished my book club book yesterday. First time I'd done this in - oh, wait, I did read Ender's Game late last year. There's less incentive to read the book club book when I'm not in the same city as the other clubbers.

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami is set in Japan in the late '60s and focuses on Toru Watanabe, who's just starting university in Tokyo. There's a love triangle element to the story, as Watanabe is interested in one girl who was his best friend's girl until his friend committed suicide. This girl - Haoko - also has her problems, so they can't be together.

While in Tokyo, Watanabe meets Midori, a girl in his History of Drama class who is distinctly different from Haoko. They befriend each other and move towards being more than friends, but Watanabe feels a commitment to Haoko.

There is quite a bit of sex in this book - not that that's bad thing, but it more than I've read in a book for, well, I'm not sure when I've read more of it in a book.

This reminds me of a translation tale about an English Canadian novel being translated into Japanese. The translator added a sex scene into the novel - completely superfluous to the story, because apparently the Japanese expect to read about sex in their novels. One often hears of how a translation goes wrong from the original author's intention - something being "lost in translation," as it were, but to add an entire scene or episode that wasn't in the original text - i.e., to find something in translation - seems a bit much to me.

However, if Norwegian Wood is any indication Japanese books have quite a bit of sex in them. All the more reason to read another Japanese novel.

And so it goes.

In Slaughter House Five, I believe, Kurt Vonnegut writes "And so it goes" every time a character dies.

Yesterday, Vonnegut died at 84, despite a life long smoking habit. He succumbed to injuries sustained in a fall, according to reports.

I've read several of his books, which are all interesting and worth the read. His particular style is unique, and I'm not sure that we'll see another author in the same vein: One who's satirical, and funny, yet rather than writing tomes like some other authors out there, writes little books, sometimes illustrated with a few drawings by the author.

And so it goes.

"When I go out with artists..."

So, I was out with artists Saturday night. There was a fund raiser for the Winnipeg Film Group, as its their 30th anniversary (actually, it's 34 years since the WFG started, but let's never mind that).

My friend Susan's brother did one of the 5 short films that the WFG commissioned for the anniversary and they were screened at the Winnipeg Art Gallery. Very nice showing. The 5 shorts were all quite different: a comedy-musical, a black & white arty piece done on 8 mm by Guy Maddin the best known of the WFG film-makers, a compilation of old footage from around the world with new narrative, an animation bit, and the longest short was about 25 min shot in the same couple of rooms with the same couple of actors but in five different styles, including black and white film noir, and a Tarrantino-esque bit.

It was a fun evening. But especially fun was who showed up that I knew. I went with my friend Susan, but I saw a neighbor there, who's friends with the person who did the animated bit. Also, a former neighbor who knew Susan's brother from way back. And then a guy that I met when I went to dinner this past Boxing Day at friend's of my parents.

It's often said that everyone in Winnipeg knows everyone else, or at the very least the six degrees of separation that there's supposed to be between people is much lower if the people in question are Winnipeggers. Saturday night was perhaps proof of that.

Sunday night in Winnie

So, I'm out to the Cinematheque for two purposes. To see Venus the recent film with Peter O'Toole and more importantly to score a ticket to the 30th Anniversary event that's honoring the Winnipeg Film Group, as a friend's brother is one of the people who's short film will be screened at this gala affair.

I get there and they hold the film for me, but the fellow on the door has no idea about the gala tickets, so he can't sell me one. I settle for a ticket to Venus and some popcorn with expressed intention of buying a gala ticket after the movie.

The movie is good, and quite funny in parts. O'Toole plays an elderly actor who befriends the daughter of a fellow actor's niece, who's come to London to look for a modeling job. She's unsophisticated but cure, and O'Toole, a life-long womanizer, is more willing to play along with her than his friend is. So it goes.

But after the flick, there's no one out front to even ask about a gala ticket, so I'm hooped for that. As I'm out, I figure I'll stay out and wander over to the King's Head for a drink.

I'm looking about the bar, which has recently expanded; someone had given me the head's up on this, but I can't recall who; Steven maybe. Anyway, I'm upstairs and thinking that I'm going to go back downstairs as there's TV there where I could hopefully watch a bit of sport.

However, I realize that the tune that's playing, which I'd almost overlooked as it's so familiar to me, is by Treat Her Right; you should know how I feel about them. When I realize who's playing, I stop 'cause I have to find out who's chosen to play them, as the whole first album is playing so it's no mistake.

I ask the barman for a pint of Big Rock Traditional Ale, and who's chosen the music. He says that he's playing the tunes.

So, I talk to Glen about Treat Her Right for awhile, and how we came to know them and some other musical interests we have. Very cool.

But that's what it's like here in Winnipeg on a Sunday.