This shift from individual to universal is something worth experiencing. It is the key ingredient. This makes the character go Woah! But more than the Suzume, we the people who have identified with her, cheered for her, rooted for her, cried with her, laughed at and with her are suddenly looking with our mouths ajar at what is happening. It makes me shiver, cry and feel goosebumps all over my body.
Most great poetry is like that. If the words can’t create a prophetic tunnel connecting them to the reader, then the whole thing no longer functions as a poem.
And a thought hits me – the axis of time. Somewhere I don’t know about, something weird is happening to time. Reality and dreams are all mixed up, like sea water and river water flowing together. I struggle to find the meaning behind it all, but nothing makes any sense.
If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking. That’s the world of hicks and slobs. Real people would be ashamed of themselves doing that.
