insensate

Listen--God only exists in people's minds. Especially in Japan, God's

always been kind of a flexible concept. Look at what happened after the war.

Douglas MacArthur ordered the divine emperor to quit being God, and he did, making

a speech saying he was just an ordinary person. So after 1946 he wasn't God

anymore. That's what Japanese gods are like--they can be tweaked and adjusted.

Some American chomping on a cheap pipe gives the order and presto change-o--God's

no longer God. A very postmodern kind of thing. If you think God's there, He is.

If you don't, He isn't. And if that's what God's like, I wouldn't worry about it."

"All right, but what's so special about this stone? It doesn't look like

much of anything."

"The stone itself is meaningless. The situation calls for something, and at

this point in time it just happens to be this stone. Anton Chekhov put it best

when he said, 'If a pistol appears in a story, eventually it's got to be fired.'

Do you know what he means?"

"Nope."

Colonel Sanders sighed. "I didn't think so, but I had to ask. It's the

polite thing to do."

"Much obliged."

"What Chekhov was getting at is this: necessity is an independent concept.

It has a different structure from logic, morals, or meaning. Its function lies

entirely in the role it plays. What doesn't play a role shouldn't exist. What

necessity requires does need to exist. That's what you call dramaturgy. Logic,

morals, or meaning don't have anything to do with it. It's all a question of

relationality. Chekhov understood dramaturgy very well."

crawled into the other futon, and instantly fell asleep.

He had one short dream--of a god in short pants, hairy shins sticking out, racing

around a field playing a flute.

"Mr. Hoshino?"

"Wh--what?"

"The entrance opened up, thanks to you."

"You know something, Gramps? I mean, Mr. Nakata?"

"What is it?"

Faceup, eyes still shut, Hoshino took another long, deep breath and exhaled.

"It better have opened up. Otherwise I killed myself for nothing."

"Arch. Archduke. Beethoven dedicated it to the Austrian archduke Rudolph.

It's not the official name, more like the piece's nickname. Rudolph was the son of

Emperor Leopold the Second. He was a very skilled musician, who studied piano and

music theory with Beethoven starting when he was sixteen. He looked up to

Beethoven. Archduke Rudolph didn't make a name for himself as either a pianist or

a composer, but sort of stood in the shadows lending a helping hand to Beethoven,

who didn't know much about getting ahead in the world. If it hadn't been for him,

Beethoven would have had a much tougher time."

"Those kind of people are necessary in life, huh?"

"Absolutely."

"The world would be a real mess if everybody was a genius. Somebody's got to

keep watch, take care of business."

"Exactly. A world full of geniuses would have significant problems."

"I really like that piece."

"You know something, Mr. Nakata?"

"Yes?"

"I never get bored when I'm with you. All kinds of off-the-wall things

happen, but that much I can say for sure--being with you's never boring."

"Thank you for saying that. I feel relieved to hear it. But Mr. Hoshino?"

"What's up?"

"I'm not really sure I understand what being bored means."

"You've never been bored before?"

"No, not even once."

"You know, I kind of had the feeling that might be the case."

music, huh? Really makes you feel like your heart's opening up, don't you

think?"

The stone was silent.

He had no idea if the stone was listening, to the music or to him, but he

forged ahead anyway. "Like I was saying this morning, I've done some awful things

in my life. I was pretty self-centered. And it's too late to erase it all now, you

know? But when I listen to this music it's like Beethoven's right here talking to

me, telling me something like, It's okay, Hoshino, don't worry about it. That's

life. I've done some pretty awful things in my life too. Not much you can do about

it. Things happen. You just got to hang in there. Beethoven being the guy he was,

he's not about to say anything like that. But I'm still picking up that vibe from

his music, like that's what it's saying to me. Can you feel it?"

The stone was mute.

"Whatever," Hoshino said. "That's just my opinion. I'll shut up so we can

listen."

When he looked outside at two, a fat black cat was sitting on the railing on

the veranda, gazing in at the apartment. Bored, Hoshino opened the window and

called out, "Hey there, kitty. Nice day, isn't it?"

"Yes, indeed, it is a fine day, Mr. Hoshino," the cat replied.

"Gimme a break," Hoshino said, shaking his head.

"Gentlemen," he said, gazing up at the dawn rising in the east, "it's time

to light my fire!"