Facing the Bridge by Yoko Tawada

Author:Yoko Tawada
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780811223492
Publisher: New Directions
Published: 2013-05-15T06:00:00+00:00

SAINT GEORGE AND THE TRANSLATOR

… in, approximately, ninety percent, of the victims, almost all, always, on the ground, lying, shown as, desperately raising, heads, on display, are, attack weapons, or, the points of, in their throats, stuck, or …

Gripping my fountain pen as if it were a knife I looked out the window. Dark cacti protruded sporadically from the sandy slope stretching out before me for a distance that might have been far or near I couldn’t tell which before being swallowed up by ominous waves of banana trees with the sea beyond although there was no visible boundary to show where water turned into sky. The sea doesn’t ascend and gradually become sky nor are sea and sky like two countries that meet at the border; in fact they exist entirely independently of each other so it’s odd to regard them as two colors side by side as if looking at a landscape painting. It seems wherever you go the scenery appears exactly like a picture and I hate that. Furthermore as I didn’t come to the Canary Islands for sightseeing it was embarrassing to look out the window and find myself gazing at the ocean like a tourist.

On the sea’s purple surface I could see stripes that I assumed were waves though they seemed to be stuck or frozen. So perhaps they weren’t waves at all and something entirely different caused this striped pattern to appear on the water. Besides the sea could be farther away than I thought. Seen from a distance moving objects do sometimes seem to be standing still. The moon for instance is in constant motion but you wouldn’t know just by glancing up. Upon further consideration there was actually nothing surprising about stationary waves. I couldn’t hear them either for that matter nor could I smell the rank odor of seaweed or dead fish so the sea must have been far away after all. My friend wasn’t lying when she described this place as “a house with an ocean view”; it was just that the “view” was from a distance. But this didn’t bother me in the least. I hate to swim anyway so it didn’t matter if the sea was near or far and in fact the further away it was the less I had to worry about it which suited me perfectly.

Though the ocean was static I could see the heavy leaves on the banana trees in front of it stir in unison every time the wind picked up even though the banana grove was also quite a distance away. I was there only yesterday which made the grove seem close but when I remembered how far I walked I could hardly call it near.

The moment I thought of the banana grove my right arm started to itch. Especially around the wrist and elbow it stung like vinegar so I stuck my arm out the window into the light but as usual all I saw were skin pores. Bright sunlight sometimes makes me itchy.

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