"We are all stardust and stories." --Erin Morgenstern
The stories from elsewhere come in waves, often times when I least expect it--never when I see fields of flowers or kites or wandering muddy jungle trails alone in cool early morning hours. They come when I hear clips of random music or when I'm staring at the ceiling after a yoga practice. Or, most often, staring at a star filled sky on a clear, moonless night, tapping into the ether beyond time and space. Stories caught in timeless moments like crystalized snowflakes. At one point in my life, they were my only moments of peace.
Sometimes the stories come in moments of stillness on nights of chaos when the music is too loud and when my brain starts to short circuit from overstimulation. This world is only gonna break your heart. A chorus whispered through what I think might be a love song, albeit a disturbing one. A song I'd not given much thought to until recently, and I think: Should be the disclaimer before signing onto this planet. A place where stories tighten around throats.
If all stories come from outside time and space where all possible stories exist, then we are the containers that catch them and they live through, permeating our psyche and shaping our lives. But these human containers are so small and narrow, each one a sliver of all possibilities. A memory from a forgotten dream perhaps. Or maybe from a chapter in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. Either way, the idea has haunted me for years.
I spend good chunks of my day thinking about story structures and how one tells a story is just as important as the themes or plot or character development. I think about astrophotography and nesting boxes and charm bracelets, and how anything can contain a story if you're willing to let it.
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I started reading the Starless Sea because of a really bad review a friend wrote about it. She didn't just simply say it was a bad book. She took her review to such an extreme it actually made me want to read it. And so I did.
I've never read a more Murakami book not written by Murakami. Intertwining stories hidden within stories. Keys that unlock painted doors that lead to other worlds, other stories. Mysterious characters that lure unsuspecting protagonists into adventure and danger. Also, elevators, food, and cats.
Like Murakami, Erin Morgenstern leads you through trap doors to underworlds, into your psyche, full of twists and turns and crossroads and choices. The meandering nature leaves you wondering if the story will actually lead anywhere. But unlike Murakami, her story does lead somewhere--into new stories, a never ending sea of stories, not unlike the akasha, the ether beyond time and space. (She also references the Secret History which I can't decide if I find endearing or pretentious).
The Starless Sea is undefined and loose, its intertwining stories build slowly around structures like vines. Tales trapped in webs. Questions caught in labyrinths. I think about the myth of the Argus, the eyes in the sky, witnessing all the stories at once. And how the only place for stories to hide is beneath the surface of the earth, hidden from stars, from our eyes, where myths drown in a sea of honey and fate and time cross paths again and again and again.
It is thick with metaphors and symbolism, and like the structure, they are loose and undefined. It's up to the reader to attach meaning to them, to weave their own stories into the mess of story fragments scattered throughout the book. I think that's what makes it so frustrating for readers, nothing is explained to you. You are spoon fed nothing but vivid imagery and symbols and characters constantly getting lost. But I also think that's what makes this story so compelling and beautiful. It's a lot like life on planet Earth--a bunch of lost people with nothing to go on but the mess of stories filled in their containers.
The Starless Sea isn't and never will be timely. Only timeless. Instead of attempting to make sense of things, it embraces the senselessness and chaos. I'd like to think the world needs more stories like this. But what do I know.
What are your thoughts on story structure? When you read, do you ever think about the structure and how it can shape your interpretation of the story?
