Saturday, July 14, 2007

elegir las palabras como si fueran notas musicales

OK, basta con Murakami, aunque sin duda es un autor que leo, que recuerdo con todo cariño (sí, Tokio Blues, que ahora es casi lectura obligatoria) y me gustan sus cuentos y aun tengo un libro entero de cuentos suyos para leer en un momento pero mientras tanto...

me enviaron este link del NY Times q coincide con la aparición de su nuevo libro, AFTER DARK, al que le tengo ganas
(soledad, tokio, love-motels, alienación, un Denny´s donde suena Hall & Oates aunque prefiero el Murakami menos fantasioso que aquel casi magico-realista) donde Murakami escribe sobre sus orígenes como músico. Quiso tocar jazz antes que escribir. Interesante lo que dice:

"Practically everything I know about writing, then, I learned from music. It may sound paradoxical to say so, but if I had not been so obsessed with music, I might not have become a novelist. Even now, almost 30 years later, I continue to learn a great deal about writing from good music. My style is as deeply influenced by Charlie Parker’s repeated freewheeling riffs, say, as by F. Scott Fitzgerald’s elegantly flowing prose. And I still take the quality of continual self-renewal in Miles Davis’s music as a literary model.

One of my all-time favorite jazz pianists is Thelonious Monk. Once, when someone asked him how he managed to get a certain special sound out of the piano, Monk pointed to the keyboard and said: “It can’t be any new note. When you look at the keyboard, all the notes are there already. But if you mean a note enough, it will sound different. You got to pick the notes you really mean!”

I often recall these words when I am writing, and I think to myself, “It’s true. There aren’t any new words. Our job is to give new meanings and special overtones to absolutely ordinary words.” I find the thought reassuring. It means that vast, unknown stretches still lie before us, fertile territories just waiting for us to cultivate them"