Studio2014
On Islands
Imagine how bleak those early moments were. I had come all the way across the sea, and the island was shrouded in mist. Was it night? Or day? I couldn’t even tell which as I blinked my eyes and tried to look the place over. Finally I made out some large, bare rocks heaped upon one another to form a steep slope. Here and there, among the rocks, the dark mouth of a cave loomed. Could this really be a mountain? Without even one blade of grass?
― 太宰治『猿ケ島』 Osamu Dazai Sarugashima 1935, trans. Jamese O’Brien 1983 ―
Midterm Report
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Tuesday April 29th, 2014
last modified: Wednesday October 22nd, 2014