UFO in Kushiro

If bad things never happened in our stories, there would never be any arc or change in our narratives. We talked about this a bit the other day in class. If everything is great all the time for our characters, it makes for a boring story. If Odysseus never left home, the Odyssey would probably be a very short story. But I think there's more to it than this. Plenty of bad things happen in life and one of the cool things about literature is that it can show us that we are not alone in our misfortunes. I think we also all admire a degree of realism in art and literature, even in highly abstract work. It's nice to be able to find relationships in the world–– if a story has no bad events in it, it may be hard to relate to.

At the same time, I think it is also cool to be surprised or confused by stories, I doubt anyone without curiosity would think to pick up a book. In 'UFO in Kushiro,' the ambiguities of the story move the narrative, they suggest change, but are never completely resolved. Komura's impotence, for instance, seems to mirror some part of his environment or emotional state–– "these things happen [...] men always let it bother them," Shimao tells him, but this impotence is never explained, Komura says "nothing." Similarly, the disappearance of Komura's wife, the contents of the box, the bears, and the presence of the UFOs are never explained, they seem to somehow be related, to signify something perhaps related to the earthquake, but again, these mysteries are never resolved. Kuroma's momentary urge to commit "an act of overwhelming violence" is mysterious as well. Like the "highways, flames, smoke, piles of rubble, cracks in the streets" these events all seem to be a "chain of silent images," or if not images, symbols. Mysteries are not necessarily bad events, but they work in the same way, they reveal a change or potential change in the narrative, they often create a need or a gap that we feel must be resolved in the plot. I think people like closure in stories for the same reasons we like closure or resolution in anything, in musical chords for instance, closure somehow conforms to a greater aesthetic sense we all seem to share. And Murakami plays with this sense–– Komura is somehow empty or made of air, as readers we want to figure out what is missing and see this space filled in (assuming we identify with Komura, or like him as a character). I've read a handful of Murakami stories before, they all seem to be equally mysterious, stories where Murakami flirts with creating some kind of metaphor or system of symbols, but ultimately leaves these suggestions incomplete. I think he is very fun to read for this reason. He is unpredictable, playful with our expectations of short stories, and often very humorous. Murakami also has killer style, which never hurts.