Rouse Up O Young Men of the New Age!

Rouse Up O Young Men of the New Age!

Kenzaburo Oe

Language: English

Pages: 272

ISBN: 080213968X

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Wise and illuminating, Rouse Up O Young Men of the New Age! is a masterpiece from one of the world's finest writers, Kenzaburo Oe -- winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature. K is a famous writer living in Tokyo with his wife and three children, one of whom is mentally disabled. K's wife confronts him with the information that this child, Eeyore, has been doing disturbing things -- behaving aggressively, asserting that he's dead, even brandishing a knife at his mother -- and K, given to retreating from reality into abstraction, looks for answers in his lifelong love of William Blake's poetry. As K struggles to understand his family and assess his responsibilities within it, he must also reevaluate himself -- his relationship with his own father, the political stances he has taken, the duty of artists and writers in society. A remarkable portrait of the inexpressible bond between this father and his damaged son, Rouse Up O Young Men of the New Age! is the work of an unparalleled writer at his sparkling best.

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questioned me closely about my impressions of M based on having known him while he was alive. At some point, I observed that while he was famous for having built himself up with weight lifting, M had actually been short even for a Japanese. “Now that you mention it, I always had trouble picturing his aesthetics of death and violence as the writing of a big man with bulging muscles.” This indication from Martha that M's stature made sense to her was abruptly interrupted by my son in a voice so

requested exposed beams throughout the living and dining areas. “I was thinking about what the driver said about family suicide,” I began. “Don't you think it was more the fact that we were going to the mountains in the middle of a typhoon than anything he saw in me and Eeyore or in you that made him say that? There may have been incidents like that in the past….” My wife declined my invitation to generalize and spoke instead the words she must have been considering deep inside herself until

be unable to stand by his side. But I knew that Eeyore would be able to say, turning to himself as dreamer, “It's all right. It's all right, it's just a dream.” Why should I torment myself? Eeyore would be able to turn to himself and continue, “You re just dreaming! There's nothing at all to be afraid of. It's just a dream!” 5: The Soul Descends as a Falling Star, to the Bone at My Heel It is extraordinary how the grotesquely odd and the familiar can reside together in Blake's invention. I

with the students over lunch. Eeyore seemed reluctant to interrupt his game with Unami, and remained in the room with his mother. His mood was cheerful, a rare occurrence at the stage he was in: in the brief time since he had arrived, Unami, whose hair was unfashionably short for those days, cropped so closely you could see his shiny skull, and who fit my wife's description so perfectly that I couldn't help smiling, had managed to charm both Eeyore and his mother with his ebullient chatter. The

think that the dark surface of the Tama must have evoked something in her as well. T's new piece for piano, “Rain Tree Sketches,” was performed by the female pianist A, who had recently softened the unique scientific precision of her style with something richer and more mellow. The piece was a lucid and persistent restatement of the rain tree theme T had already used in his chamber music, but, short as it was, it was more than simply a restatement—T's “rain tree” as musical metaphor had grown

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