When was the last time that I read Brautigan's books or read about him? It was probably when Jan Kerouac's "Trainsong" was translated into Japanese almost ten years ago. Jack Kerouac's daughter described Brautigan's lecture in Amsterdam a year before he died. Jan Kerouac passed away too in mid-nineties.

Now this Brautigan's posthumous book reminds me of an atmosphere of early eighties; not too much industrialization and 'do it ourselves.' But this book is not so simple. The narrator went to cemeteries everywhere. And every time he tried to talk about an "unfortunate woman" who hung herself, he got off the subject. Hatred for LA-style cities, the sound of a woman making love in Berkeley, a photograph of him and a chicken in Hawaii, etc. These episodes are funny but somewhat depressing.

Nostalgic, witty and a little sad. It's unmistakably a Brautigan.

ブローティガンの遺作となった本作は、いつも通り落ちついたトーンで、より死に近づいている、という感じ。なんかもう、雰囲気が「死」である。ページをめくるにつれ、読み手であるこちらも不安定になっていく。控えめな感染力があるみたいだ。

今回も藤本和子訳はすばらしいです。