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"Absolutely," Oshima agreed.
"But why did he have to live such a hard, wild life? He would've been better off with a more normal type of life."
Oshima twirled the pencil around in his fingers. "I see your point, but by Beethoven's time people thought it was important to express the ego. Earlier, when there was an absolute monarchy, this would've been considered improper, socially deviant behavior and suppressed quite severely. Once the bourgeoisie came to power in the nineteenth century, however, that suppression came to an end and the individual ego was liberated to express itself. Freedom and the emancipation of the ego were synonymous. And art, music in particular, was at the forefront of all this. Those who came after Beethoven and lived under his shadow, so to speak-Berlioz, Wagner, Liszt, Schuma
"I can't really say if I do or not. I haven't heard that much," Hoshino admitted. "Hardly any at all, actually. I just kind of like that piece called the Archduke Trio."
"That is nice, yes."
"The Million-Dollar Trio's great," Hoshino added.
"I prefer the Czech group, the Suk Trio, myself," Oshima said. "They have a beautiful balance. You feel like you can smell the wind wafting over a green meadow. But I do know the Million-Dollar Trio version-Rubinstein, Heifetz, and Feuerma
"Um, Mr.-Oshima?" Hoshino asked, looking at the nameplate on the counter. "You know a lot about music, I can tell."
Oshima smiled. "Not a lot. I just enjoy listening to it."
"Do you think music has the power to change people? Like you listen to a piece and go through some major change inside?"
Oshima nodded. "Sure, that can happen. We have an experience-like a chemical reaction-that transforms something inside us. When we examine ourselves later on, we discover that all the standards we've lived by have shot up another notch and the world's opened up in unexpected ways. Yes, I've had that experience. Not often, but it has happened. It's like falling in love."
Hoshino had never fallen head over heels in love himself, but he went ahead and nodded anyway. "That's gotta be a very important thing, right?" he said. "For our lives?"
"It is," Oshima answered. "Without those peak experiences our lives would be pretty dull and flat. Berlioz put it this way: A life without once reading Hamlet is like a life spent in a coal mine."
"A coal mine?"
"Just typical nineteenth-century hyperbole."
"Well, thanks for the coffee," Hoshino said. "I'm happy we could talk."
Oshima gave him a big grin in reply.
Hoshino and Nakata read books until two, Nakata going through his carpenter's motions as he leafed through the collection of furniture photographs. Besides the middle-aged ladies, three other readers had joined them after lunch. But only Hoshino and Nakata asked to join the tour of the library.
"You don't mind if it's just the two of us?" Hoshino asked. "I feel bad you have to go to all this trouble just for us."
"No trouble at all," Oshima said. "The head librarian is happy to conduct the tour, even for one person."
At two on the dot a good-looking middle-aged woman came down the stairs. Back held straight, she had an impressive walk. She wore a dark blue suit with severe lines, black high heels, a thin silver necklace at her wide, open neckline, her hair gathered in the back. Nothing extraneous, altogether a highly refined, tasteful look.
"Hello. My name is Miss Saeki. I'm the head librarian here," the woman said, and smiled calmly.
"I'm Hoshino."
"I'm Nakata, and I'm from Nakano," the old man said, hiking hat in hand.
"We're glad you've come to visit us from so far away," Miss Saeki said.
A chill ran down Hoshino's spine at Nakata's words, but Miss Saeki didn't look suspicious.
Nakata was typically oblivious."Yes, I crossed over a very big bridge," he said.
"This is a wonderful building," Hoshino interjected, trying to cut off any talk of bridges.
"The building was built in the early Meiji period as the library and guesthouse of the Komura family," Miss Saeki began. "Many literati visited and lodged here. It's been designated a historical site by the city."
"Litter oddy?" Nakata asked.
Miss Saeki smiled. "Artists-poets, novelists, and so forth. In the past men of property in various localities helped support artists. Art was different back then, and wasn't viewed as something one should make a living at. The Komuras were men of property in this region who sponsored culture and the arts. This library was built, and is operated, to pass down that legacy to future generations."
"Man of property-Nakata knows what that means," Nakata said. "It takes a long time to become one."
Smiling, Miss Saeki nodded. "You're quite right, it does. No matter how much money you accumulate, you can't buy time. Well, we'll begin our tour on the second floor."
They toured the rooms upstairs one by one. Miss Saeki gave her usual talk about the various literati who had stayed there, and showed the two men the calligraphy and paintings these artists had left behind. During the tour Nakata seemed to turn a deaf ear to what she was saying, instead curiously examining each and every item. In the study Miss Saeki used as her office, a fountain pen was sitting on the desk. It was up to Hoshino to follow along and make all the appropriate noises. All the while he was on pins and needles, worried the old man would suddenly do something bizarre. But all Nakata did was continue to scrutinize the items they passed by. Miss Saeki didn't seem to care what Nakata did. Smiling all the while, she briskly showed them around. Hoshino was impressed by how calm and collected she was.
The tour ended in twenty minutes, and the two men thanked their guide. Miss Saeki's smile never failed the entire time. The more Hoshino watched her, though, the more confused he grew. She smiles and looks at us, he told himself, but she doesn't see anything. She's looking at us, but she's seeing something else. Though all the time she was giving the tour, even if her mind was elsewhere, she was perfectly polite and kind. Whenever he asked a question, she gave a kind, easy-to-follow response. It's not like she's doing this against her will or anything. A part of her enjoys doing a meticulous job. But her heart isn't in it.
The two men returned to the reading room and settled down on the sofa with their books. But as he turned the pages, Hoshino couldn't get Miss Saeki out of his mind. There was something very unusual about that beautiful woman, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He gave up and went back to reading.
At three o'clock, totally without warning, Nakata stood up. His movements were uncharacteristically decisive. He held his hat firmly in his hand.
"Hey, what's up? Where are you going?" Hoshino whispered.
But there was no response. Lips set in a determined look, Nakata was already hurrying toward the main entrance, his belongings left behind on the floor.
Hoshino shut his book and stood up. Something was definitely wrong. "Hey, wait up!" he called. Realizing the old man wasn't about to, he scrambled after him. The other readers looked up and watched him leave.
Before he got to the entrance, Nakata turned left and without hesitating started up to the second floor. A NO VISITORS ALLOWED BEYOND THIS POINT sign at the foot of the stairs didn't deter him, since he couldn't read. His worn te
"Excuse me," Oshima said, leaning over the counter to call out to the retreating figure. "That area is closed now."