smiled.
Wow, I thought. This guy says he’s doing just enough to keep up, and he can still succeed in grad school, not to mention that whenever he’s not studying he’s writing another article or doing some sort of preliminary research, surveying the literature or something.… He must be really good at this academic stuff. I was impressed.
“I studied my ass off all that time, and then one day, just like that, it hit me. I’m on track to finish my coursework, there’s no question about that, and as long as I keep at it with the articles I’ll definitely get my Ph.D. And then I can go on the market in Japan, and the chances are that there will be a good match somewhere, and I’ll find a position at some institute. Only I’m not sure that the future will be all that bright if I just go on like this—if I stay here in Japan, I mean. So I’ve been mulling things over. I kind of think it might be good to go somewhere else. That never occurred to me before. Until now, it was all I could do just to stay alive.”
All along, Nakajima’s tone had remained measured and easy.
“That’s not anything I’d know about,” I said, “but if you’ve been able to manage this much, I’m sure you can do anything. I mean it—anything. You just have to put your mind to it.”
Somewhere else. I.e., somewhere outside Japan. I.e.… we split up?
So as far as he’s concerned, my apartment is just one step in the great escape?
I had the feeling that it wasn’t yet time to talk about that.
Nakajima had said he wanted to go see his friends, and yet whenever he talked about it his expression got incredibly gloomy. So I asked him about it.
“Do you feel a need to see these friends of yours now?”
“No, it’s not that,” he said. “I feel like maybe now I can.”
“If I come along, you mean?” I asked.
“Exactly … I mean, you’re so cheerful,” Nakajima said.
“Maybe I’m not as cheerful as you think,” I replied.
It wasn’t that I was annoyed; I just didn’t want to let him down.
I had the feeling that Nakajima was taking one aspect of me—the straightforward, easy-going part that emerged when I was with him, the cheerful surface that I had inherited from my mom—and blowing it all out of proportion. If so, he might feel terribly betrayed when my dark, somber side eventually showed its face.
“No, I know that, it’s just … I know I can’t express it very well, no matter how I phrase it, but you’re just right . This sounds kind of odd, but your proportions are just right.”
I sort of knew what he was trying to say.
Considering how smart Nakajima was, I bet he could have found a way to express more precisely what it was like to push his body to the limit while studying, or his perspective on the way my emotions were structured inside me. He was just being nice, communicating on my level. That’s what made it sound vague.
Still, I had the sense that right then it helped for him to be talking about something, and so I decided to draw him out. I intentionally cocked my head slightly, feigning puzzlement.
“I mean, for you love is more important than anything else, right, Chihiro?” Nakajima said. “But you don’t try to control other people, do you?”
“I guess that’s pretty true,” I replied.
“And you cherish the memory of your mother? Of course, everyone has little knots in their hearts, no matter what their families are like—but wouldn’t you say that in your case you feel love and hate in ordinary, healthy amounts? Even if one may seem a bit stronger at times?”
“Yeah, I’d agree with that.”
“And you don’t hate your father, do you?”
“No, I don’t. If anything I think he’s kind of lovable. The environment we lived in wasn’t ideal, but I suspect that it actually made it easier for us to express our love than in your average family. We didn’t fit into any ready category, so we all had to work that much harder.”
“Exactly—you don’t have that
Wow, I thought. This guy says he’s doing just enough to keep up, and he can still succeed in grad school, not to mention that whenever he’s not studying he’s writing another article or doing some sort of preliminary research, surveying the literature or something.… He must be really good at this academic stuff. I was impressed.
“I studied my ass off all that time, and then one day, just like that, it hit me. I’m on track to finish my coursework, there’s no question about that, and as long as I keep at it with the articles I’ll definitely get my Ph.D. And then I can go on the market in Japan, and the chances are that there will be a good match somewhere, and I’ll find a position at some institute. Only I’m not sure that the future will be all that bright if I just go on like this—if I stay here in Japan, I mean. So I’ve been mulling things over. I kind of think it might be good to go somewhere else. That never occurred to me before. Until now, it was all I could do just to stay alive.”
All along, Nakajima’s tone had remained measured and easy.
“That’s not anything I’d know about,” I said, “but if you’ve been able to manage this much, I’m sure you can do anything. I mean it—anything. You just have to put your mind to it.”
Somewhere else. I.e., somewhere outside Japan. I.e.… we split up?
So as far as he’s concerned, my apartment is just one step in the great escape?
I had the feeling that it wasn’t yet time to talk about that.
Nakajima had said he wanted to go see his friends, and yet whenever he talked about it his expression got incredibly gloomy. So I asked him about it.
“Do you feel a need to see these friends of yours now?”
“No, it’s not that,” he said. “I feel like maybe now I can.”
“If I come along, you mean?” I asked.
“Exactly … I mean, you’re so cheerful,” Nakajima said.
“Maybe I’m not as cheerful as you think,” I replied.
It wasn’t that I was annoyed; I just didn’t want to let him down.
I had the feeling that Nakajima was taking one aspect of me—the straightforward, easy-going part that emerged when I was with him, the cheerful surface that I had inherited from my mom—and blowing it all out of proportion. If so, he might feel terribly betrayed when my dark, somber side eventually showed its face.
“No, I know that, it’s just … I know I can’t express it very well, no matter how I phrase it, but you’re just right . This sounds kind of odd, but your proportions are just right.”
I sort of knew what he was trying to say.
Considering how smart Nakajima was, I bet he could have found a way to express more precisely what it was like to push his body to the limit while studying, or his perspective on the way my emotions were structured inside me. He was just being nice, communicating on my level. That’s what made it sound vague.
Still, I had the sense that right then it helped for him to be talking about something, and so I decided to draw him out. I intentionally cocked my head slightly, feigning puzzlement.
“I mean, for you love is more important than anything else, right, Chihiro?” Nakajima said. “But you don’t try to control other people, do you?”
“I guess that’s pretty true,” I replied.
“And you cherish the memory of your mother? Of course, everyone has little knots in their hearts, no matter what their families are like—but wouldn’t you say that in your case you feel love and hate in ordinary, healthy amounts? Even if one may seem a bit stronger at times?”
“Yeah, I’d agree with that.”
“And you don’t hate your father, do you?”
“No, I don’t. If anything I think he’s kind of lovable. The environment we lived in wasn’t ideal, but I suspect that it actually made it easier for us to express our love than in your average family. We didn’t fit into any ready category, so we all had to work that much harder.”
“Exactly—you don’t have that
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