Selective Nostalgia

Bubble gum blowing contests, cops and robbers, Barbies, playdough, kickball, hop scotch, double dutch, tetherball, mud, and a carefree style of living. Never worrying how the rent will get paid, what my GPA will be at the end of the semester, or what career I'll choose as a headway into my adult life. I can look back at my childhood and dream about the times -- the times that seemed so unbelievably dull when they were happening, but now wish more than ever that I could go back. Is that what will be of my life ten years from now? Dreaming of the parties, the friends, and my seem-to-remember carefree style of living in the college life? One cannot help but ponder the idea of nostalgia as nothing more than a yearning for something unattainable. At the moment of these now nostalgic memories I felt as though my life would never get any more difficult. The smallest things would make me believe my world had come to an end -- something as small as not winning a game of tetherball. Is it that over time we forget the so-called hardships we once encountered and remember nothing but the good? Or is it that our lives actually become more and more difficult through the years and we hope for a time when our lives were less complicated?

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In the novel An Artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro, the main character, Masuji Ono, tends quite often to become nostalgic of his earlier years in life. In one instance of the narrative, one I found somewhat compelling, Ono was very presumptuous in his telling of an experience with the Tortoise from his working with Master Takeda’s firm. In this dwelling, Ono begins by describing how and why the Tortoise was given his nickname – because of his slow-paced artistic ability. The story becomes one of the ‘make a long story longer’ types, but we conclude by the end of it that Ono was the hero. He stood up for the Tortoise when the other artists accused him of being lazy and ,as Ono describes, were abusing him verbally. My mention of this particular section of the novel is simply because of the correlation I feel it has to my own nostalgia. “Of course, this is all a matter of many years ago now and I cannot vouch that those were my exact words that morning. But I spoke in some such way on the Tortoise’s behalf, of that I am quite certain; for I can distinctly recall the gratitude and relief on the Tortoise’s face as he turned to me, and the astonished stares of all the others present” (p.69).

My intentions here are not to bash Ono by calling him presumptuous. I used the term loosely in explaining the way he made himself the idol in the story. I simply wonder if Ono is recollecting actual memory of this occasion, or if, like me, he remembers the glory and the outcome of an actuality that did not exist. I do not believe nostalgia to be considered good or bad, and I am grateful for the memories I am able to encompass. There are certain memories, though, that some wish to neglect. In the novel there is one story Ono has yet to reveal to us, unless I am simply mistaken. “’There are some who would say it is people like myself who are responsible for the terrible things that happened to this nation of ours. As far as I am concerned, I freely admit I made many mistakes’” (p. 123). Ono is quite frivolous with his other reminiscences, but becomes must less informative when this topic is brought up.