Yuma Watanabe 'Talks on Poetry / Paradise of Poetry, Hell of Poetry, Part 3: Reading Poetry Like Taking a Walk' (Spin) / Eri Takahara 'Poetry Detective Flâneur'
☆mediopos-3056 2023.3.31
Eri Takahara's 'Poetry Detective Flâneur' was
already covered in mediopos-2969 (2023.1.3), but
this is an essay by book critic and game writer Yuma Watanabe, who
while introducing that novel,
suggests a way of reading poetry called
'reading poetry like taking a walk'.
A flâneur is a 'stroller,' and
is a general term for the people who
walked through the passages (arcade shopping streets)
that appeared in 19th-century Paris.
As the translation 'strolling' suggests,
they were also 'people who, without necessarily buying any goods,
mingle with the crowd and walk around aimlessly.'
Usually, when we talk about walking,
we often walk toward a destination,
but a flâneur 'does not go anywhere,
just wanders around.'
Sakutaro Hagiwara writes something like this:
'After walking around a suburban residential area with many trees several times,
I suddenly came out onto a lively street.
It was a beautiful town somewhere that I did not know at all.'
However, 'when I realized it, it was a boring, ordinary suburban town in the neighborhood that I know well.'
By 'looking at a corner I always walk past' from a direction different from usual,
'ordinary scenery' can look like completely different scenery.
Reading poetry also
has something in common with such a 'flâneur.'
When reading (or 'strolling' through) poetry,
those words
are no longer the words used in daily life.
Even if each word is
a 'well-known' and 'ordinary' word to me,
within poetry,
they also become 'beautiful' words that I 'do not know at all.'
This can also be called poetic language.
It is language to which a poetic function has been added.
Unlike everyday linguistic behavior,
it is not language with a purpose,
but invites us to a world that can only be obtained
by 'just wandering around.'
To flâneur;
that is an important game for savoring poetry.
■Yuma Watanabe 'Talks on Poetry / Paradise of Poetry, Hell of Poetry'
Part 3: Reading Poetry Like Taking a Walk'
(Included in 'Spin / spin No. 3', Kawade Shobo Shinsha, 2023/3)
■Eri Takahara 'Poetry Detective Flâneur' (Kawade Shobo Shinsha, 2022/12)
■Rebecca Solnit (Translated by Kenjiro Higashitsuji)
'Wanderlust: A History of Walking' (Sayusha, 2017/7)
(From Yuma Watanabe 'Talks on Poetry / Paradise of Poetry, Hell of Poetry'
Part 3: Reading Poetry Like Taking a Walk')
'The other day, while walking through the town of Kobe, I suddenly thought that walking through a town is very similar to the attitude of appreciating poetry. Perhaps it was because I was reading Eri Takahara's 'Poetry Detective Flâneur'. As the title suggests, it is a work that flâneurs (walks) through poetry. To be more precise, it might be called a work that demonstrates that savoring poetry is like flânerie.'
'In 'Poetry Detective Flâneur', a duo named Meri and Jun, who have sharp sensibilities for words and are full of curiosity, walk through a town overflowing with words, encountering poetic verses lurking in daily life, as well as renowned poetic works by Sakutaro Hagiwara, Rimbaud, Takuji Ote, Kyoko Takaha, 'Kanjinshu', and Chika Sagawa. Moreover, the way they encounter them is all wonderful.'
'The flâneur (stroller) appeared in 19th-century Paris. They were a general term for pedestrians who walked through an area called a passage couvert (generally 'passage'). A passage is like what we call an arcade shopping street today. It is a pedestrian walkway connecting public and private roads, characterized by features such as being partially covered by a roof made of glass—or plastic.'
(...)
People appeared who would wander aimlessly among the crowds, not necessarily to buy any goods. This type of person had not existed before. This is because if you were not blending into a crowd, wandering around without purpose would make you look suspicious. Moreover, since the passages were both shopping arcades and thoroughfares, no one had any right to complain about how long you stayed. Furthermore, while walking in the empty mountains is boring, in a shopping arcade, you can observe goods and people. Therefore, they were able to indulge in 'strolling,' wandering through the passages to their heart's content and keenly appreciating various things. This is the flâneur.
Regarding this attitude of the stroller, the writer Rebecca Solnit, who depicted human history centered on 'walking,' states the following:
The flâneur drifts on the margins, neither lonely nor social, experiencing Paris as a dizzyingly vast collection of crowds and objects.
Without the intention of shopping, while maintaining an appropriate sense of distance, they pay attention to the things and people in the passage and experience them. This is how Meri and Jun engage with poetry. They do not dig too deep into the meaning of poetry, but enjoy it from an appropriate distance. In other words, one of the attitudes we can have to maintain a good relationship with poetry is that of the flâneur.
Usually, walking is aimed at some destination. In that case, roads and signs have meaning. However, when you wander aimlessly without going anywhere in particular, ordinary roads sparkle, and even signs and billboards transform into scenery.
The following passage by the aforementioned Sakutaro Hagiwara is truly suggestive:
After circling a few times through a residential area in the suburbs with many trees, I suddenly came out onto a bustling street. It was truly a beautiful town somewhere I did not know. (Omitted) I knew for certain, without a doubt, that it was in my neighborhood, within my usual walking area, or in the immediate vicinity, only about half an hour away on foot. Yet, how could such a town have existed so close by without anyone knowing until now?
He is astonished that there was a surprisingly beautiful streetscape in his neighborhood. However, that illusion quickly fades.
I felt as if I were dreaming. It seemed not like a real town, but like a town of shadow pictures projected on a magic lantern screen. But at that moment, my memory and common sense returned. When I realized it, it was just my neighborhood's boring, ordinary suburban town that I know well.
He viewed a corner he always walks past from a different direction than usual. Don't you all have such memories? In my case, although it is a little different from Sakutaro, when I happened to have some free time as a student, I suddenly looked up at a multi-tenant building on my way to school. Then, although it was a building where I had seen only the first floor many times, its curved lines and the way it towered high into the sky felt indescribably beautiful.
That is likely the meaning of the beauty found in ordinary scenery that Benjamin and Sakutaro describe.