This article was originally published in “Murakami Radio”, a collection of articles that Murakami had written for the pop magazine Anan.
Generally speaking, novelists can be defined as people who are interested in strange things (things that are rather useless). Sometimes they will make you wonder, why on earth are they interested about such things again?
For instance, those who were involved in the feminist movement of the 1970s not only called for the liberation of females, but they also started burning bras, so as to get the point across strongly. Although this is ancient news that happened long ago, I’m guessing you should have a vague idea about it? A huge crowd had gathered at the square and the atmosphere was awesome. A campfire had been set up and people were throwing their bras into the fire. The women said, “These things are merely restraints as imposed by society. We can do without them.” News reporters who were there took pictures of the event and devoted massive columns of reportage to it.
I don’t find anything wrong with that. Maybe it’s because I’m a male, so from a physical viewpoint, I cannot understand how much of a societal restraint a bra really is, but if someone suggests that we burn them or throw them away, then let’s burn them or throw them away. I have not much of an opinion about this.
What I care about, though, is whether the bra is new or used to a certain degree. Everytime I think about this issue, I worry about it so much that I cannot go to sleep at night. Well, not really, but it is as if there is a question mark somewhere on my back, sticking on it like a pale shadow. As the media usually doesn’t report in detail such insignificant things (I don’t think they will), I have no way of knowing the truth of the matter. However, I believe that these bras that are burnt should, to a certain degree, be used ones. It’s a little wasteful to burn bras that are brand new, and I don’t feel that females would do such a wasteful thing.
If, however, the above is true, then aren’t these burnt bras so pitiful? Bras also have their difficulties. They work as hard as they can, perform their duties diligently, just to struggle to live, and then suddenly they are pulled out of their wardrobes and treated as an irredeemably evil person. Even the meaning of their existence is being denied, looked down upon and scoffed at, and under the watchful eyes of the public, they are thrown into the blazing fire. How could anyone accept that willingly? I don’t have any blood relations with the bra, of course, but still I cannot help but pity it.
There is something else I don’t understand. Why do they only burn bras and not the abdominal binders? If bras are a restraint of personal will, then abdominal binders should be a restraint as well (or perhaps even a bigger one). But abdominal binders are not burnt, neither are high heels and eyelash pomade. Only bras are burnt. Perhaps, in order to become a twisted historical symbol — just as how Doctor Zhivago has to go through the dark, winding corridor of life — it has to endure an unexpectedly tragic fate. It’s really pitiful. Whatever it is, I hope I never become something of a symbol. Really.
However, it’s useless to think of this bra-burning incident that had happened over thirty years ago in such a detailed manner. I just couldn’t help it. Maybe I’m too free and bored.
