Oct 09, 2023
Hmmmm...
There's a lot of symbolism scattered here, like how the river that leads to Tokyo is Styx and how Tokyo itself is the underworld (get it, because capitalism is dehumanising), and there's also an interesting spin on the erotic-thanatic dichotomy. That's all fine and good, but I can't help wondering if this isn't just a little bit vacant in meaning.
There seems to be a lot of aesthetic, but ultimately this whole thing would be muted were the narrator not come forward and tell us that hey, Freud's philosophy was garbage and we should actually listen to Nieztsche for authority over Greek duality.
I'm also not sure what your thesis is. Those who cling to life wish it'd last forever, with you so far. But then, those who wish for death want to change? How, though? I would've understood it if Sayuri would go to a different spot for suicide every day, if she were extremely impulsive, emotional, erratic, y'know. Dionysian. But instead, she's just the numbness of the 'life'. Really, it kinda feels like you wanna have your philosophy cake and eat it too.
When you architecture a piece on the foundation of an inexorable contrast, the hardest thing is to actually strike that contrast. If any one side of the scale leans too close to the centre, your message doesn't really fly. Nevertheless, whilst on a structural level this piece is a little blurry, the prose is pretty nifty. I commented early on on the symbolism, but I'd be remiss if I didn't point out how it was very nicely sneaked into the story. At times the underworld references feel kinda tacked on, but I can overlook that. The style is pretty solid, overall. Loved the repetition, like an echo.
Bubbles, out.
