October 25th: Dust in the Wind

Misha Nogha’s “Chippoke Na Gomi” (1989)

The Anthology Editors tell us the title is Japanese for “tiny, small, petty dust” (p. 631). The title is an understatement because the dust isn’t a small, petty issue–it’s actually a MAJOR concern. Authors sometimes use understatement for ironic effect to give the reader clues as to how to read/interpret the work. (A note on read/interpret: as an English professor, I would rarely make a distinction between the two words.)

Here’s a link to Misha Nogha’s website…

Because the main character is a dust specialist–konologist (p. 632)–readers can assume by the title name that his work is unimportant or, at least, his approach isn’t appropriate or humanist. There could be a comment that he’s spending too much time on the minutia of dead things as opposed to paying attention to the living or the bigger picture of the effects of nuclear war. There’s a theme that runs through American culture that science and the pursuit of scientific knowledge make scientists ignore human complexity and lose touch of more important matters (usually human connection). Does this contradict Butler’s observation that America is anti-intellectual and that’s harmful to humanity? How might we reconcile the two? As you reflect on the short story, consider the main character not as a hero to mimic but a warning.

Dream Sequence

The best way I can describe this story is as a dream with interruptions of instances that refer to Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The woman the narrator meets in the train station is described as “all flat…like a shadow” after he sees “a shadow etched against the wall…a shadow of a missing person bent over in thought”(p. 631). At the end of the story, the shadow woman turns to ash, to dust, and “her shadow remains permanently scorched into the station wall” (p. 636). What other story had silhouettes on a wall? Bradbury’s “There will Come Soft Rains.”

In the next few weeks, we’ll be getting into narratives about reality (what is real) and how authors represent altered realities using dream sequences or dream-like situations. This story’s meaning is in the main character’s dream. Consider the following:

• Dust is everywhere–it even delays the train (p. 633).
  • “The train roars in and pulls away while he is still kneeling in the station with a handful of crematory ash” (p. 636)
• Remnants of the dead all around him Memorial to the dead: “Boats of lantern fire” (p. 633)
  • Ohta River Memorial
  • Art Memorial
  • His shoes “covered with the victims of Nagasaki” (p. 635)
  • “In the cloud, thousands of faces, ancestors come for Bon mitsuri” (p. 635)
  • Isn’t dust just human skin? Yes, but that’s only part of it–dust myths.
• Charred (carbonized) wood and bones
  • “Carbonized timbers and beams…” (p. 632)
  • “A field of carbonated bone” (p. 635)
• Is She a ghost?
  • p. 635: “[The konologist] sees a human face trapped between two tiny pieces of dust.”
    • I wonder whose face that could be…
  • p. 636: “he is still kneeling with a handful of crematory ash”
  • Ever seen Terminator 2’s nuclear blast scene?

Bob Dylan: “Forget the dead you’ve left / they will not follow you.” (“It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” [1965]). Actually, they surround you. They are dust that accumulates all around us. In this story, the dust is constantly swirling around, and, just like the dust in “The Heat Death of the Universe,” it keeps coming back.

Next Week

Keep up with the reading for next week. We’ll still have short stories for next week. On Monday (10/28), we’ll have Samuel R. Delany’s “Aye, and Gomorrah…” (1967) and Joanna Russ’s “When It Changed.”

We start Larissa Lai’s Salt Fish Girl the week after next (11/04). It’s a shorter read than Autonomous, but maybe a head start would be good.