Tokio Whip
Page 30
–As much as he allows.
–Just as I thought. No wonder he can’t let Roberta go. And so, how are they?
–Hard to say. Maybe there has been a thaw recently. You know they’re living on opposite sides of the city.
–Yes.
–Well, after some tentative steps, forays into the areas in between, they began to explore one another’s turf bit by bit. Seems Lang has begun to appreciate the old city, and Roberta is no more so dismissive about developments west.
–The old criss-cross then? The exchange. The one for the other.
–Yes.
–Well, I am very glad to hear it. Lang too making a move. Remarkable man, still able to overcome and make the required changes in himself. This is what we’ve been talking about all this while V-Zed.
–What you think I can’t do myself.
–Oh no, I never said or implied that. Quite the contrary, I do believe you can, you obviously have the imagination for it, just look at what you’re doing in your film. No, no, I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression. All I am saying is that it has had to be pointed out to you, you’ve been so focussed elsewhere, so dedicated to the film in fact, that you have only neglected your own good health. Physical too from what I hear of your carousing. But now that it is pointed out to you, or signaled clearly, and not in Roberta’s rather abrupt manner, I believe you can only proceed in the way indicated.
–Yes, Master.
–Sorry, I really should have phrased that differently. Let’s just say, I trust you’ll do the … do what you have to. Is that more Hawksian for you? Are you good enough, V-Zed?
–That’s more like it, Cafferty. Yes, a world where Hitchcock and Hawks, Murnau and Lang, Roberta and Lang, myself and Roberta, Bresson and Ophüls, you and your past, myself and my future, can reconcile and live together.
–Green tea and coffee, brown rice and burgers, tatami and chandeliers!
–And again, Roberta and Lang.
–Yes. Above all and by all means.
–Yes, you know, it’s clear to us all now that Lang is changing –
– As I ever suspected he could.
–And Roberta is so pleased, you know. He’s like a new, hidden Lang, one she’d always suspected.
–Oh, I’m sure she is pleased. As too I am sure this is not the first time he has had to change and prove to her his mettle. I do wonder what has gone on before between them, in America, in Europe, when they first got together, if they’ve split apart before. And what she has gone through on her own here, these many months.
–And he seems equally happy. She is like an unsuspected Roberta, a Roberta he’d neglected.
–Good for him. To discover the lover anew! To keep being able to surprise one another – and one’s self.
–That does seem to be the case here, she’s like a Roberta she has acknowledged she has neglected.
–I can see that. You know in all this talk of overcoming, we too have been negligent. After all, the center here is Roberta. She’s the one who struck out for Japan on her own. We too often look on it as an act of bold creativity, and yet, perhaps it was something completely negative.
–But –
–No, no, hear me out. From what I understand of their last year or so together before she left, she was in an awful way; and yes, he may have, probably did neglect her, but she allowed him so much advantage, and you and I know that he is one who will take it when proffered. Sounds to me like she’d completely lost touch with herself, with whatever it is that had kept her strong and kept her and Lang together. I’m not surprised at all that she left – and came here of all places. It was a last chance, last ditch move. Yes, alright, positive in a life-saving way. But look at what she has done here. She eliminated all trace of the earlier vibrant Roberta, reduced everything, and has slowly built herself up again from scratch. Think of the risks she’s taken – among them the risk of losing such a friend as you – look at how she’s chosen to live: the modest apartment, the everyday routines, and especially the elimination of the habits of a lifetime: the films she loved going to so many times a week, the time spent with friends – what did you tell me once?, that she sees her friends only one afternoon a week now. These are not the actions of someone in search of a Zen way, but in some ways the wise sacrifices of a person who knew she was near her end, and had to save herself. But think of the faith too that she must possess: she left Lang, planned this course of life, knew Lang had almost no interest in Japan but was never wholly sure that he would in time come here to get her back – she took that risk, said nothing to him, no, “Look, Lang, I’ll be in Japan, if you want me, come get me.” No, all she said was, “I’m going to Japan, Lang, goodbye.” She never asked him to come for her, never challenged him. She knew that this time she had to act on faith alone – and take the great risk that he might not come. You just have to admire a person like that.
–Yes, and now it is as if they have almost rediscovered a mutual Lang and Roberta that they need now to know again, to acknowledge, to recognize.
–Yes, but rediscover and recognize anew, like new. The Roberta she has been digging out of herself during her time here might never have been discovered but that would not have made her any the less Roberta. We have infinite depths, you see, V-Zed, infinite depths, this is what I was saying to you earlier.
–Yes, it’s curious, Lang seems to be in love not only with his old Roberta, but this new one, or rather, a Roberta he’d long refused to see and now has no choice but.
–And a Roberta she’d long refused to see and now has no choice but. And what will their next move be? Move in together again? No, too soon, she still has some way to go. I am sure they are too smart to make that move until the time is right, no matter what they will have to pay for separate apartment fees. Have you ever wondered how many couples that hate each other stay together simply because of the money they can save? Anyway, Lang too has some way to go yet. After all, he is on his own Tokyo journey now, and has to remain open to the changes that will have on him; but neither has to worry about that as any kind of threat. While the city has broken many a couple apart, it has also brought many together; the more wonderful is when it brings them back together.
–I suspect that for now they will stay united on separate sides of the city – after all, they have no choice but.
–Yes, I suppose you’re right. They can continue the criss-cross, the exchange. They’ll cover a lot of territory that way, and stay out of one another’s lairs when they need. Lang must walk down the mountain and bring roses to the Low City. Roberta will ease her monkish ways and once in a while enjoy the high life. I assume Lang already knows the better restaurants out in his area. I assume he already knows the better ones in Roberta’s area as well. Ah, but all this high city low city talk, I’ve never felt comfortable with it. I know the reasons why we use the terms, but why do they remain? The city is simply a curve, a side of a bowl, a swing. You know the phrase “bura-bura”?
–As in “Gin-bura,” wandering about Ginza?
–Yes, well, it literally denotes a swinging motion; and from that it has its sexual connotation. This is more appropriate for Tokyo than this high-low division. I want to see people fucking more, not competing for position. This is the real Tokyo spirit.
–How can I help?
–I’m sure you’re making your own spirited contribution, V-Zed. So,let me see if I understand you correctly. You say that Lang is changing, it is clear to you all, and Roberta likes it, likes this new hidden Lang, a Lang she’d always suspected; and that Lang likes her: she is an unsuspected Roberta, a neglected Roberta, and a Roberta she too acknowledges she had neglected … a Lang and a Roberta they both need to know, to acknowledge, and more – a Roberta he’d long refused to see and one he now has no choice but, and for now they stay united on separate sides of the city – they have no choice but.
–That seems to be the case, yes.
–Well, it’s a nice case, a rare one certainly. Could you
see it as a movie?
–You mean an old one, has it been done? By who – Bresson?
–Ophüls? No, it would have to be a combination of the two. By you?
–By me? Hmm. Lots of talk, I’m not sure I’d like that.
–Oh, but it’d be one-sided.
–Lang. But how to show all that Roberta has gone through? It’s all in her head, isn’t it?
–Yes, but you’d simply show her life in the city. The reality of the streets, the simplicity of her apartment, the repetition of her actions. And then you’d have Lang’s discovery of the city. The city would be their emotions.
–Hmm … No, not my style, a story, all show. That’s not a Tokyo story to me.
–Oh?
–Lots of talk – regardless of what I just said, this is a different sort of dialog – lots of pictures, but they don’t necessarily go together; the viewer makes the connections, fills in the gaps, puts the “story” together.
–By the way, you don’t mention Roberta being in the new film. She’d be marvelous, you know. That voice, the talk.
–Don’t think I don’t know it. You’d be marvelous in it too – that voice, the talk.
–Sorry, you’ve already said it’s a girls only production.
–A voiceover?
–No, no, this is one movie I only want to admire.
–I hope you will.
–But really, what about her in it?
–How? What can I do, say?
–You go up to her and say, “Roberta, would you like to be in my film? I would like you to be, and would appreciate your saying you would.” Or is that too long?
–Sure, Cafferty, I just go and ask her to be in the film.
–Yes, you do.
–Maybe, I do.
–You know what it would mean?
–For the film?
–For everything.
–For me?
–For all of us.
–Yes, I know.
–For you?
–For you. For me too, yes.
–I don’t know, Cafferty.
–Yes you do, V-Zed, you do know.
–That voice.
–That Roberta.
–My film …
–Your friendship …
–Just ask her, eh?
–Just pop the question.
***
She had spoken away her lipstick and now was a bit drunk, her boyfriend moreso. Was it just because she was from the Midwest that she really didn’t know what to do, how to kiss him? With all attention on each fumbling footstep, she would reach beyond his friendly goodnight and aim at the mouth and hope its message went not unminded; but his intentions – at least this night – were honorable (as they used to say), and so her aim was slightly off and she somehow slobbered half on his lips half on his cheek, but semi-drunkenness excused all, but too yes the message was well received as subsequent events proved.
***
Ah, you city, so you’re it, eh? Where I make some decisions? Why are you punishing me like this, making me so extravagant? Am I some plaything of yours? How did you choose me? Were the Ms next in line? Oh, Tokyo, if you’re up there – what’d that guy say – if you’re up there, wiggle your ears!
***
–– I see you everywhere ...?
–– But ... uhn, but fail to ...
–– find you!
–– Good. I see you everywhere, but fail to find you ...
–– hmm ... find ...
–– find you ...
–– No. Fail to find you ... find, ... but fail to see!
–– It’s a good one. I see you everywhere, but fail to find you.
–– Find, but fail to see. Yes, very good.
***
A TOUR OF THE MARIANNAS
Mary Anne:
Within you and around you, cities hovering above, in our single heart beating in a triple city. Shake your hand; I’ll lend you a shirt – an indefinite loan.
her imprint fades
the scent of it
sheets of it
–Ohh, it’s so cold, cold here.
–No, no, Mary Anne – there is no more emotional place.
–No more emotional man?
–No more.
–And this woman?
–A conversation – cold emotion.
She pulls my face towards her on her haunches.
Twenty years ago gangly and nervous with our own natures and now look at them slipping into one another this long sliding thing our nature.
slipstream
streetcar:
there you are!
Your Memphian feet in Chinese slippers;
Memphian thighs in black Chinese slacks
Your Memphian breasts in a red Chinese blouse
Memphian skull – speaking those Memphian words – in a Chinese hat.
Your Memphian cunt in this Chinese face.
–I don’t know what I’m doing.
–You have a choice?
–I don’t know what I’m doing.
–You’re supposed to know? to do?
–I don’t know what I’m doing.
–Don’t. Don’t know.
Your heart in my hand, no, on my palm – firm, standing, beating and all the best adjectives.
She strides standing naked, high breasts – standing still, naked, striding, unconversant.
The night awakened by the voice, the cry, “try me.”
And I will love you till I know it’s wrong.
– VZ
***
–Ever westward!
–Onward!
–Eastward!
–Upward!
–Isn’t there supposed to be a ghost somewhere around here?
–Ghosts are all over the country.
–No, but, oh where was it?, oh yes, in Inokashira Park.
–No, those are college kids running around naked at night.
–Lots of sex taking place there.
–Which means lots of voyeurs.
–But wait, yes, I know the story.
–About voyeurs? What’s to know?
–No, about the ghost.
–See.
–She’s the ghost of a woman who was spurned by her lover, and now she lives in the pond, and she splits apart any lovers that go for a stroll there.
–Really?
–Well, yes – if you want to believe it.
–Lots of people do.
–Really?
–Yes, really; in fact lots of girls do not want to go for walks in the Park with their boyfriends.
–Oh, so it’s just the people who come here for sex, is that it? They’re under no illusions, and figure there’s no love involved, just a good time.
–Could be.
–Still, you do see lots of couples in the park. Families even.
–Yes, but are they together? Will they stay together?
–Maybe someone ought to do a survey.
–Alright, enough already. We could get stuck on legends and stories every few blocks and never get to where we’re going.
–Ever westward!
–Onward!
–Eastward!
–Upward!
–Kichijoji’s the best.
–Well, Lang’s certainly gotten to like it.
–But it is!
–Why?
–Because it combines east and west, old city, new city. The scale is perfect. And historically, it embodies the history and direction of the city.
–Huh?
–Well, look, for one example, the original Kichijoji temple was located way over in shitamachi somewhere; then the fires, this is in the Edo period, caused it to be moved west – there’s one in Sugamo – and finally here. Money-wise, too. This is where people used to have their second homes – or, one of the places, Shibuya’s another – and now its keeps a bit of its gentrified side – just look at the big houses behind the main streets – and all the greenery, too – and you’ll see wh
at I mean.
–Yeah, and you get young and old too. The old families, and all the kids from the nearby universities.
–“Joji,” as they call it.
–Right, and lots of ’em prefer it to Shibuya.
–Well, you have the train connection. But a lot of ’em do stop here.
–Well, a lot of ’em also come from rather far out, too. They have to stop somewhere.
–The point is that they are happy to stop here.
–I certainly am.
–And you have a lot of foreigners – or Japanese with foreign experience – and so you get the three or four supermarkets with foreign foods available.
–Gee, you guys are really making a case.
–And isn’t it a writer’s place?
–Right, again the universities, and so there are a lot of academics.
–No, I mean real writers.
–Yes.
–Didn’t Dazai do himself in around here?
–Yes, that’s right. Was it in Inokashira Park? Or the river?
–Lots of good food here –
–And record shops –
–And clothes –
–Parco –
–Clubs –
–Lots of stuff –
–Something for everyone –
–Ok, ok, we’re not writing an ad for the place –
–Right, we’re beginning to sound like copywriters –
–But we are –
–No, we’re not, not now anyway.
–We’re walkers –
–Ever westward!
–Onward!
–Eastward!
–Upward!
***
Hiromi (or was it Hiroko?) hadn’t seen van Zandt in a week. She’d tried to leave him messages, but he’d not left on his answering machine. And then, he wasn’t the type to return calls anyway. And, he’d told her to never visit him unannounced. She’d walked – in that deceptive light skip of hers that made everyone think her unaffected by events – to his two or three hang-outs in Asakusa, and again he hadn’t showed. Was he on a binge?, with another girl?, ditching her? Hiroko (or was it Hiromi?) did not know what to do. Call Roberta?
***
There were three couples fucking. A gay couple visiting. VZ and a woman I wanted. Someone else whom I can’t recollect. And I lived there. Sure, I was happy for them, the more fucking the better. A bit noisy, with those thin walls in such a small house. And I was only too mindful that the sex that was not mine – I remember her skin, her smile, the eyes never modest in that demure Japanese way, but exultant. So I felt like a guest in my own home. Was this fair? Or maybe there is a truth here that I failed to recognize. Tokyo is my home, and I am its guest. More and more sex then, for the city.