32-Year-Old Day Tripper
Japanese Title: ３２歳のデイトリッパー
Author: Murakami Haruki (村上春樹)
Taken From: カンガルー日和 (1983)
I’m 32, and she’s 18…. If you think of it like that, it’s kind of ridiculous.
I’m only 32, and she’s already 18…. Maybe that’s better.
We’re friends, nothing more, nothing less. I’ve got a wife, and she’s got six boyfriends. On weekdays, she goes on dates with her six boyfriends, and once a month, on a Sunday, she goes on a date with me. On the other Sundays, she sits at home and watches TV. When she watches TV, her face is cute like a walrus.
In 1963, when she was born, President Kennedy was assassinated. Also, I asked a girl out on a date for the first time. Was the song that was popular then maybe Cliff Richard’s “Summer Holiday”?
Ah, whatever.
In any case, she was born that year.
In 1963, I would never have thought that I would be going on dates with a girl who was born in that year. It still seems a little strange to me now. I feel like I’m smoking a cigarette on the dark side of the moon.
The consensus among my friends is that dating a teenage girl is boring. Despite that, they go on dates with teenage girls all the time. Is it that they’ve managed to find a girl who isn’t boring? No, that’s not it. Simply put, it is the very boringness of these girls that they find so appealing. While buckets full of boring are being dumped over their heads, they try not to let a drop fall on the girl. It’s a complicated game they enjoy wholeheartedly.
At least, that’s what I think.
The truth is, nine out of ten teenage girls are boring. Of course, they haven’t noticed this. They’re young, beautiful, and full of curiosity. They think that something like “boring” has nothing to do with them.
Good grief.
This doesn’t mean that I blame them, and it doesn’t mean that I hate them. I like them. They make me remember the time when I was a boring teenage boy. How would you put it, it’s a pretty awesome thing.
“Hey, have you ever thought that you’d like to be 18 again?” she asked me.
“Not really,” I answered.
“You don’t want to be 18 again… Really?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“I guess I’m fine the way I am now.”
Putting her elbows on the table, she rested her chin in her hand. Deep in thought, she twirled her spoon around in her coffee cup with a clacking sound. “I don’t believe you.”
“You’d better believe me.”
“But isn’t it cooler to be young?”
“Probably.”
“Then why are you fine the way you are now?”
“Because being 18 once was enough.”
“It’s still not enough for me.”
“But that’s because you’re still 18.”
“Hmmm.”
I flagged down a waitress and ordered my second bottle of beer. It was raining outside, and I could see Yokohama Harbor through the window.
“Hey, when you were 18, what did you think about?”
“Sleeping with girls.”
“Besides that.”
“Just that.”
She giggled and took a small sip of coffee.
“So, were you successful?”
“There were times when I was successful and times when I wasn’t. Of course there were probably more times when I wasn’t.”
“About how many girls did you sleep with?”
“I never counted.”
“Really?”
“I didn’t want to.”
“If I were a guy, I would definitely end up counting. Don’t you think it would be kind of fun?”
I’ve had times when I’ve thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to be 18 again. But, when I try to think of the first thing I’d do when I turned 18 again, I can’t come up with anything.
I’d probably end up dating a charming 32-year-old woman. That wouldn’t be so bad.
“Have you ever thought that you’d like to be 18 again?” I would ask her.
“Let’s see,” she would grin at me while pretending to think about it. “Nope. Well, probably.”
“Really.”
“Yup.”
“I don’t get it,” I would say to her. “You know that everyone says that it’s awesome to be young.”
“That’s right, it is pretty awesome.”
“Well then, why don’t you want to be 18 again?”
“You’ll understand when you’re older.”
But really, I’m 32 years old, and I’ve reached the point where fat sticks out around my belly if I’m lazy about jogging for a single week. I can’t go back to being 18. I guess that’s only natural.
When I get back from running in the morning, I drink a can of vegetable juice, plop down into a chair, and listen to the Beatles song “Daytripper.”
“Daaaaaay-ay Tripper…”
When I listen to that song, I feel like I’m sitting in the window seat on a train. Outside, stuff like telephone poles and train stations and railway bridges and cows and horses and chimneys and piled-up garbage quickly passes by. No matter where you’re going, the scenery doesn’t change much. And I used to think that scenery was pretty amazing, too.
“Would you like to change seats with me?” I ask.
“Thanks,” she says. “That’s really kind of you.”
It’s not that I’m kind, I smile bitterly. It’s just that you’re not yet used to how boring it is.
Tired of counting telephone poles,
I’m a 32-year-old
Daytripper.
~ by Kathryn on January 7, 2009.
Posted in Murakami Haruki
Tags: 1963, Cliff Richards, contemporary Japanese literature, counting telephone poles, Day Tripper, growing older, Japanese short stories, jogging, nostalgia, teenage girls, the Beatles, Yokohama Harbor
Well, that there dispels any suspicions I had that what I was reading was the product of the translator’s skills rather than Murakami’s own style and acumen.
That it reads just the same when you translate it means it’s not Alfred Birnbaum or Jay Rubin I like, but Murakami.
And, it reminds me that I like Murakami. Maybe I should give WindUp Bird Chronicle another chance. Or maybe I should go get something from the library.
I actually really like the translation. I was very surprised that it sounds exactly like what I would expect Murakami to sound like if I am reading this story from a collection from a bookstore (which means that you did a good job translating and maintaining his voice/style)
The only thing I have with this story is that he didn’t really talk much about the ‘boringness’ of life except talking/complaining about it. I would imagine if he is to turn this in a novel, an adventure of some sort will come out of him feeling boring. But I think the purpose of the short story is to just bring out the emotional state people feel when they are in their 30’s?
Will be interesting to write a paper discussing whether or not this feeling is a Japanese phenomenon, or if it seems to be pretty universal across all cultures.
Thank you!
The truth is, we translators work very hard. There is a lot of skill involved! That’s the reason “32-Year-Old Day Tripper” seems a lot more like “Murakami” than “Julio Iglesias,” which I translated two summers ago – I worked a lot harder on this story!
Yes, you definitely like Murakami. You should try reading him in Japanese! He is the easiest author that I have read so far, and lots more fun to read in the original.
Thank you so much, Judy!
I am lucky to have already read a few published Murakami translations, so I was influenced by the “voice” already given to him by his superlatively talented “official” translators.
As for the “boringness” of life, I’m pretty sure the emotional state of being jaded doesn’t have anything to do with being Japanese. I feel the same way sometimes, which is why this story appeals so strongly to me. The funny thing is, it appeals a lot more to me now than it did when I first read it four years ago! I guess I was a lot closer to 18 myself then. (^_^)
The theme of being vaguely tired of life shows up in many of Murakami’s novels. Specifically, being vaguely tired of life and somehow being spiritually rejuvenated by a platonic relationship with a teenage girl figures pretty strongly in the novel Dance Dance Dance, which is a sequel to the novel A Wild Sheep Chase. I’m not crazy about Dance Dance Dance, but A Wild Sheep Chase is one of my favorite novels ever, so you should check it out!