reading Rubin’s Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words four years ago, made me think ..

Finished reading Haruki Murakami and the Music of Words a few days ago. It is written by Harvard professor Jay Rubin who also translated a few of his books. Some food for thought:

“Neither of us is interested, essentially, in anything but ourselves. OK, so I’m arrogant and he’s not, but neither of us is able to feel any interest in anything other than what we ourselves think or feel or do. That’s why we can think about things in a way that’s totally divorced from anybody else.”

I really wonder whether I am like that, that I am unable to feel any or even slight interest in anything other than what I self think or feel or do. Did I tell you I think I am pretty arrogant, self-conceited and selfish? Then again, some people think being selfish (Ayn Rand) is a good thing. Ok, next quote:

“Haven’t you offered up some part of your Self to somone (or some thing), and taken on a ‘narrative’ in return? Haven’t we entrusted some part of our personality to some greater System or Order? And if so, has not that System at some stage demanded of us some kind of ‘insanity’? Is the narrative you now possess really and truly your own? Are your dreams really your own dreams? Might not they be someone else’s visions that could sooner or later turn into nightmares?”

This second quote reflects a big fear of mine, and something I see in a lot of people. In exchange for yourself, for your ability to critically think, we receive a narrative in return that makes the decisions for us, what to do in moral dilemmas, how to live our lives and even what we shoud like. We are being told what to do, feel, like and think. The concept of Insanity in this regard, then, takes on a different meaning than just ‘being crazy’, but instead reminds me of Foucault who regarded insanity as a normalizing discipline by way of categorizing (behavior, norms, etc) in an attempt to regulate society. Insanity, thus, is an unconditional trust in this morally superior narrative, excluding any other “crazy” one. After all, you know something the other does not know. [..] Scares the hell out of me.