On my own magic realism tangent at the moment. Contemplating, the role of magic realsim in the world. My husband Eric and I were talking about it today on our train ride into Kobe. Specific instances, blurring of metaphor and reality. Eating spicy food and realizing your body is on fire. Looking out the windows from our bedroom, the apt. lights through the back yard trees became Lothlorien for a moment.
I'm an avid reader and a writer, traveller. Eric and I are planning trips to Tibet, Nepal, India during our time in Japan. I'm interested in the magic realism of the cultures, the complete blending of fact and fiction in the oral tradition. We may stay with Lama Dawa, Eric's old teacher when we go to Nepal. I want to tape him, record his history as I attempted to record my grandmother's history before she died. As I attempted to record my friend's lives in Belfast and sought in vain for old folktales on the Aran Islands. The telling of stories is deeply interesting. It's what most deeply influenced Marquez, his grandparent's story telling. It's the direction I want my own writing to take and I'm seeking it out everywhere. Started reading Haruki Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun today. Not as magic real as some of his other novels but he writes
with exquiste simplicty, touching on adolescent emotions and blunt cravings, honest and lucid.