By Haruki Murakami, Translated from the Japanese by Jay Rubin, Philip Gabriel
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Additional resources for 1Q84
Komatsu contorted his lips and folded his hands on the table. ” Tengo picked up his coffee cup and stared at the puddle inside. Then he put the cup down again. Komatsu still had not spoken. ” Komatsu narrowed his eyes like a teacher gazing upon his prize pupil. ” There was something inscrutable about this man Komatsu. You couldn’t easily tell from his expression or tone of voice what he was thinking or feeling. He appeared to derive a good deal of pleasure from keeping others guessing. Mentally, he was very quick, that was for certain.
She has something important. I don’t know what it is exactly, but she has it, that much is clear. It’s obvious to you, and it’s obvious to me. Anybody can see it, like the smoke from a bonfire on a windless afternoon. ” Komatsu contorted his lips and folded his hands on the table. ” Tengo picked up his coffee cup and stared at the puddle inside. Then he put the cup down again. Komatsu still had not spoken. ” Komatsu narrowed his eyes like a teacher gazing upon his prize pupil. ” There was something inscrutable about this man Komatsu.
She closed her eyes again and concentrated on the music. She knew nothing about Janáček as a person, but she was quite sure that he never imagined that in 1984 someone would be listening to his composition in a hushed Toyota Crown Royal Saloon on the gridlocked elevated Metropolitan Expressway in Tokyo. Why, though, Aomame wondered, had she instantly recognized the piece to be Janáček’s Sinfonietta? And how did she know it had been composed in 1926? She was not a classical music fan, and she had no personal recollections involving Janáček, yet the moment she heard the opening bars, all her knowledge of the piece came to her by reflex, like a flock of birds swooping through an open window.
1Q84 by Haruki Murakami, Translated from the Japanese by Jay Rubin, Philip Gabriel