MURAKAMI - 1Q84
DON’T LET APPEARANCES FOOL YOU
The taxi’s radio was tuned to a classical FM broadcast. Janacek’s Sinfonietta—probably not the ideal music to hear in a taxi caught in traffic. The middle-aged driver didn’t seem to be listening very closely, either. With his mouth clamped shut, he stared straight ahead at the endless line of cars stretching out on the elevated expressway, like a veteran fisherman standing in the bow of his boat, reading the ominous confluence of two currents. Aomame settled into the broad back seat, closed her eyes, and listened to the music. How many people could recognize Janacek’s Sinfonietta after hearing just the first few bars? Probably somewhere between “very few” and “almost none.” But for some reason, Aomame was one of the few who could.
MUrAkami - 1Q84
The short interlude of modernism and democracy was ending, giving way to fascism.
Aomame loved history as much as she loved sports. She rarely read fiction, but history books could keep her occupied for hours. What she liked about history was the way all its facts were linked with particular dates and places. She did not find it especially difficult to remember historical dates. Even if she did not learn them by rote memorization, once she grasped the relationship of an event to its time and to the events preceding and following it, the date would come to her automatically. In both middle school and high school, she had always gotten the top grade on history exams. It puzzled her to hear someone say he had trouble learning dates. How could something so simple be a problem for anyone?
“I'm Scottie Pippen, but I ball like a Piston”- YBN CORDAE
“Me, blue? Ha, No, it's just a pigment of your imagination.”- papa smurf
“Baby your love dey high me like choko” - BURNA BOY
MURaKAMI - 1Q84
“Aomame” was her real name.
Telling people her name was always a bother. As soon as the name left her lips, the other person looked puzzled or confused.“Miss Aomame?”“Yes. Just like ‘green peas.’ ”Employers required her to have business cards printed, which only made things worse. People would stare at the card as if she had thrust a letter at them bearing bad news. When she announced her name on the telephone, she would often hear suppressed laughter. In waiting rooms at the doctor’s or at public offices, people would look up at the sound of her name, curious to see what someone called “Green Peas” could look like.
EDI
Some people would get the name of the plant wrong and call her “Edamame” or “Soramame,” whereupon she would gently correct them: “No, I’m not soybeans or fava beans, just green peas.
STACEY
Pretty close, though. Aomame.” How many times in her thirty years had she heard the same remarks, the same feeble jokes about her name?
LEIGH
My life might have been totally different if I hadn’t been born with this name. If I had had an ordinary name like Sato or Tanaka or Suzuki, I could have lived a slightly more relaxed life or looked at people with somewhat more forgiving eyes. Perhaps.
KRIS
Eyes closed, Aomame listened to the music, allowing the lovely unison of the brasses to sink into her brain. Just then it occurred to her that the sound quality was too good for a radio in a taxicab.
MURaKAMI - 1Q84
“Look over there. See that turnout just ahead?”
… he asked, pointing. “See? Near that Esso sign.”Aomame strained to see through the windshield until she focused on a space to the left of the two-lane roadway where broken-down cars could pull off. The elevated roadway had no shoulder but instead had emergency turnouts at regular intervals. Aomame saw that the turnout was outfitted with a yellow emergency phone box for contacting the Metropolitan Expressway Public Corporation office. The turnout itself was empty at the moment. On top of a building beyond the oncoming lanes there was a big billboard advertising Esso gasoline with a smiling tiger holding a gas hose.
“Thank you for being a friend
Traveled down a road and back again
Your heart is true, you’re a pal and a confidant.”
