My Everyday Blog

Kaho by Haruki Murakami Translated, from the Japanese, by Philip Gabriel Source and Credit : newyorker.com A long time passed as she walked everywhere, examining  countless faces as she went, yet she never found her own face.  What she saw were always the faces of others. She didn’t know  what to do. And before she knew it she was no longer a girl but  an adult woman. Would she never be able to find her own face  again She fell into despair. As she was sitting at the tip of a cape in a northern land, crying in utter hopelessness, a tall young man in a fur coat appeared and sat down beside her. His long hair gently waved in the wind from the sea. The young man gazed into her face and, smiling broadly, said this: “I’ve never seen a woman with such a lovely face as yours.” By then, the face she’d pasted on had become her true face. All sorts of experiences, all kinds of emotions and thoughts, had joined together to create...

White The White Book  By Han Kang Translated from the Korean by Deborah Smith Portobello Books Each moment is a leap forwards from the brink of an invisible cliff, where time’s keen edges are constantly renewed. We lift our foot from the solid ground of all our life lived thus far, and take that perilous step out into the empty air. Not because we can claim any particular courage, but because there is no other way. Now, in this moment, I feel that vertiginous thrill course through me. As I step recklessly into time I have not yet lived, into this book I have not yet written. - Page 7 All whiteness With your eyes, I will see the deepest, most dazzling place within a white cabbage, the precious young petals concealed at its heart. With your eyes, I will see the chill of the half-moon risen in the sky. At some point those eyes will see a glacier. They will look up at that enormous mass of ice and see something sacred, unsullied by life. They will see inside the silence of th...