Mon 14 Jul 2008
here comes johnny yen again
Posted by bon under pondering stuff, stuff stuff
[8] Comments
last night i rambled through the neon streets of a nameless north Asian city, lost and utterly foreign and happy as a clam.
like any dream, it made no narrative sense. i was simply elsewhere, escaped, otherworlded. it was vivid, a montage of sense recollections and body memory, smells and sights and pace all propped up like rusty actors on a stage that seldom has much call for them. they fought for their star turn, elbowing in on each other in rapid succession, costumes dusty but still perfect in form, bizarrely familiar in their forgotten but once-intimate Otherness.
it was day and night both in this dream, and Seoul and Osaka and Beijing and Busan and Daejeon all together…a hundred human habitations of relentless urbanity merged, distilled…all these but never Shanghai, nothing so recognizable and coherent to the occidental eye as the grand old Whore of the Orient with her Art Deco facades. there were piss-ridden alleys and sterile fusion bars, ten-lane thoroughfares with whizzing cars and motorcycles and scooters, both sides of the street jammed with a cacophony of lit signs that disdain all notions of harmony and makes Times Square look tame. i do not know what they hawked, in my dream, but then i never knew what they said when i was there, either. the in-jokes of signage were lost on me just as the Engrish hilarity of neon proffering “pork catlet” – cutlet – was presumably lost to those who lovingly promoted such wares. in my dream were colours, so many colours cutting into the dark in bright clean lines, blurring into a haze, and the graceful arc of the few old buildings that remain against the cigarette-box-design of the new, thousands of them, disappearing into the horizon in a sea of unending ugliness made vibrant by the tang of sugar or garlic or vinegar or liquor from the street vendors and the fetid waft of garbage and sewage beneath the open grates of the alleyways. and always, for months, the fallen cherry blossoms lingering. in the dream they were underfoot and all the paving tiles were shaped like diamonds.
girls with kewpie-doll double eyelids, surgically created but so ubiquitous that the under-thirties appear utterly genetically different from their elders, bestowed stewardess smiles upon me as i plowed along, eating up ground in this imaginary Ur-city too big to be outwandered. people thronged, fifty thick on the streets. fish flopped in plastic basins, pigs’ heads and carcasses with paws grinned glassy-eyed at me from market hooks. the modesty of appropriate dress perched alongside the gaudy love hotels, grinning at me, sex unmentionable yet discreetly everywhere, vending machines with cock rings displaying their wares like cans of coffee or goggle-eyed stuffed animals. cartoons everywhere. i felt a little, on waking, like i’d been in a cartoon, some strange cigarette-smoke and plum wine-laced anime tableau designed for aesthetic impact…but then remember that i always felt that way, there.
ah, the sometimes beautiful invisibility of being Other, of being so hopelessly and irredeemably different that there will be no true belonging, no amalgamation. all is pardonable or ignorable, chalked up to the barbarity of skin rather than individual indiscretion. no history, no ties. my feet were shod in army boots, then in the plastic bathroom slippers one would never sully with dirt from outside one’s apartment. but i went marching, marching, flashing through corner stores and chicken stands and grand public edifices to historical events i do not really understand, all in hard pink plastic footwear bearing homonculous-shaped toy rabbits on it, and my legs were strong and did not ache.
i could have walked all night long through those kaleidoscope streets, dreaming. and when i woke too early to the sound of “mama” echoing through my bedroom in my house in a town i have known all my life, i felt suddenly, incongruously homesick.




July 14th, 2008 at 1:31 pm
Baby wants to see the world – maybe she’s digging through your memories of it to makie either sense of it or a wish list of things to take in for herself one day (hopefully no catlets included).
July 14th, 2008 at 2:36 pm
I felt like I was reading looking at a soundstage for Bladerunner re written by William Gibson. All with the soundtrack by Iggy in the background.
July 14th, 2008 at 2:54 pm
Miss M had a nightmare the other night: monsters. She cried for half and hour and could only get back to sleep by lying on my chest and listening to my exaggerated breathing. When she woke up in the morning, she told me she had two dreams: one bad dream with monsters and one happy dream where she was playing with dollies. I was struck by just how early and just how completely dreams work out our shit for us.
For the record, her descriptions of her dreams lacked the poetry of this particular recounting.
July 14th, 2008 at 7:53 pm
I’ve been to Asia and this is it exactly, but I could never write about it like that. Pretty cool.
July 15th, 2008 at 1:02 am
This is Stunning, Bon.
If I could dream like this, with all 5 senses, I would not require a passport.
July 15th, 2008 at 8:10 am
I have moments of nostalgia for Kore like this all the time – and I’m awake usually. AS much as I enjoyed Kore, I was really ready to leave when I did so for a while this confused me. Again though, in the end I blamed it on the child – I have put it down to a longing for responsibility free time.
July 15th, 2008 at 12:15 pm
Ditto bladerunner. And your descriptions are so vivid, it’s like I’m walking there too. And I realize, my dreams are never this clear, this full, this specific and detailed — it’s always a main action, placed in the middle of the screen, with some decidedly blurry edges that I can’t quite make out.
Sometimes it’s nice to be the alien, I think. Sometimes.
July 16th, 2008 at 4:06 pm
“anime tableau designed for aesthetic impact” — perfect. I too lived in Asia for a little while, Tokyo to be exact, and it all seems like a cartoon dream now. i never had a way in really, but have never really got out either. you know? it’s all still there somehow.
to be fair, i was steadily intoxicated, but i remember a giant metal crab on a storefront facade, snapping. department store basements filled with food. noodle shops and sushiterias. rooftop parks paved with astro-turf. lights and sounds from pachinko parlours mixed with markets selling seaweed crackers and incense for the nearby temple. the neon, the constant thrum in counterpoint to the silence of being so definitively Other. the flickers of connection made in passing, before fading to black.
thanks for this post.