Tips:
Click
to switch between English and 中文
If there are a thousand people in the world, there will be a thousand kinds of loneliness.
If there are a thousand people in the world, there will be a thousand kinds of loneliness.
If there are a thousand people in the world, there will be a thousand kinds of loneliness.
I just finished reading Lonely Tokyo by Japanese author Shion Miura. What at first seems like a rambling novel about the daily lives of four women turns out to offer a rich and nuanced perspective on loneliness.
The story centers around a single elderly mother, estranged from her husband, and her daughter, who immerses herself in embroidery as a means of survival. Living with them are two other women, one older and one younger, both single. Though these four women share the same roof, they inhabit entirely different universes of loneliness.
The daughter’s solitude manifests in her total devotion to embroidery. Her life seems consumed by this one thing. Despite multiple relationships, her passion for embroidery has always been dismissed by her partners as merely a “hobby,” something they expect her to give up once married to focus on household duties. Every relationship inevitably crumbles. Quietly, she hopes someone will one day appreciate her art and recognize the youth and passion she has poured into it. But such people are rare. Perhaps she will live and die alone.
The elderly mother, a wealthy landlady who has never had to toil a day in her life, has been acquainted with loneliness from an early age. Her unwilling husband, brought into her household against his will, soon took to wandering in search of antiques, seldom returning home. She quietly accepted his absence, until the day their daughter was born and all she received from him was a mummy as a gift. That was the last straw—she threw him out for good.
As for the two lodgers: one hides behind a tough, intellectual exterior, indulging her feminine instincts for sweetness only in the privacy of her own room, while keeping men at arm's length. The other is a love addict who cannot survive a day without romance, falling into one disastrous relationship after another, even as her ex-boyfriends continuously take advantage of her. These two women are lonely in their own ways: one wears her solitude like armor, the other hides hers within.
Then there’s the old caretaker, a silent fixture in the household, who has spent decades watching over the mother and daughter without a word. Though the daughter suspects he harbors feelings for her mother, it has never been confirmed. These two elders have lived side by side for a lifetime, yet even when alone together, they never speak.
Can you see the many shades of loneliness and how they unfold?
People feel lonely when they are misunderstood or when they cannot find someone who resonates with them. Others, fearing loneliness, keep themselves endlessly busy, always chasing something. Endless waiting leads to loneliness, and those accustomed to solitude become used to others waiting for them. Some create loneliness on purpose—not because they enjoy it, but because they fear that if they yield to solitude, it will swallow them whole. Others flee from loneliness, only to find themselves alone in their endless flight.
Loneliness takes on countless forms. Some are tangible, like the daughter’s sighs or the caretaker’s years of silence. Others are intangible, hidden in rationality, in the joy of new love, or in the sharpness of the elderly mother’s tongue.
Though loneliness can be terrifying, and solitude brings sighs, in truth, we are all fundamentally alone. Think about it—besides yourself, who in this world will live and die with you, accompanying your every breath? Others are destined to be mere visitors in your life, just as you are destined to be a passerby in theirs. If it were otherwise, white-haired companionship and kindred spirits wouldn’t hold such fascination—they offer temporary reprieve from the physical and emotional loneliness we all carry. People long for what they lack, and since so few feel the absence of solitude, so few pursue it.
I just finished reading Lonely Tokyo by Japanese author Shion Miura. What at first seems like a rambling novel about the daily lives of four women turns out to offer a rich and nuanced perspective on loneliness.
The story centers around a single elderly mother, estranged from her husband, and her daughter, who immerses herself in embroidery as a means of survival. Living with them are two other women, one older and one younger, both single. Though these four women share the same roof, they inhabit entirely different universes of loneliness.
The daughter’s solitude manifests in her total devotion to embroidery. Her life seems consumed by this one thing. Despite multiple relationships, her passion for embroidery has always been dismissed by her partners as merely a “hobby,” something they expect her to give up once married to focus on household duties. Every relationship inevitably crumbles. Quietly, she hopes someone will one day appreciate her art and recognize the youth and passion she has poured into it. But such people are rare. Perhaps she will live and die alone.
The elderly mother, a wealthy landlady who has never had to toil a day in her life, has been acquainted with loneliness from an early age. Her unwilling husband, brought into her household against his will, soon took to wandering in search of antiques, seldom returning home. She quietly accepted his absence, until the day their daughter was born and all she received from him was a mummy as a gift. That was the last straw—she threw him out for good.
As for the two lodgers: one hides behind a tough, intellectual exterior, indulging her feminine instincts for sweetness only in the privacy of her own room, while keeping men at arm's length. The other is a love addict who cannot survive a day without romance, falling into one disastrous relationship after another, even as her ex-boyfriends continuously take advantage of her. These two women are lonely in their own ways: one wears her solitude like armor, the other hides hers within.
Then there’s the old caretaker, a silent fixture in the household, who has spent decades watching over the mother and daughter without a word. Though the daughter suspects he harbors feelings for her mother, it has never been confirmed. These two elders have lived side by side for a lifetime, yet even when alone together, they never speak.
Can you see the many shades of loneliness and how they unfold?
People feel lonely when they are misunderstood or when they cannot find someone who resonates with them. Others, fearing loneliness, keep themselves endlessly busy, always chasing something. Endless waiting leads to loneliness, and those accustomed to solitude become used to others waiting for them. Some create loneliness on purpose—not because they enjoy it, but because they fear that if they yield to solitude, it will swallow them whole. Others flee from loneliness, only to find themselves alone in their endless flight.
Loneliness takes on countless forms. Some are tangible, like the daughter’s sighs or the caretaker’s years of silence. Others are intangible, hidden in rationality, in the joy of new love, or in the sharpness of the elderly mother’s tongue.
Though loneliness can be terrifying, and solitude brings sighs, in truth, we are all fundamentally alone. Think about it—besides yourself, who in this world will live and die with you, accompanying your every breath? Others are destined to be mere visitors in your life, just as you are destined to be a passerby in theirs. If it were otherwise, white-haired companionship and kindred spirits wouldn’t hold such fascination—they offer temporary reprieve from the physical and emotional loneliness we all carry. People long for what they lack, and since so few feel the absence of solitude, so few pursue it.
I just finished reading Lonely Tokyo by Japanese author Shion Miura. What at first seems like a rambling novel about the daily lives of four women turns out to offer a rich and nuanced perspective on loneliness.
The story centers around a single elderly mother, estranged from her husband, and her daughter, who immerses herself in embroidery as a means of survival. Living with them are two other women, one older and one younger, both single. Though these four women share the same roof, they inhabit entirely different universes of loneliness.
The daughter’s solitude manifests in her total devotion to embroidery. Her life seems consumed by this one thing. Despite multiple relationships, her passion for embroidery has always been dismissed by her partners as merely a “hobby,” something they expect her to give up once married to focus on household duties. Every relationship inevitably crumbles. Quietly, she hopes someone will one day appreciate her art and recognize the youth and passion she has poured into it. But such people are rare. Perhaps she will live and die alone.
The elderly mother, a wealthy landlady who has never had to toil a day in her life, has been acquainted with loneliness from an early age. Her unwilling husband, brought into her household against his will, soon took to wandering in search of antiques, seldom returning home. She quietly accepted his absence, until the day their daughter was born and all she received from him was a mummy as a gift. That was the last straw—she threw him out for good.
As for the two lodgers: one hides behind a tough, intellectual exterior, indulging her feminine instincts for sweetness only in the privacy of her own room, while keeping men at arm's length. The other is a love addict who cannot survive a day without romance, falling into one disastrous relationship after another, even as her ex-boyfriends continuously take advantage of her. These two women are lonely in their own ways: one wears her solitude like armor, the other hides hers within.
Then there’s the old caretaker, a silent fixture in the household, who has spent decades watching over the mother and daughter without a word. Though the daughter suspects he harbors feelings for her mother, it has never been confirmed. These two elders have lived side by side for a lifetime, yet even when alone together, they never speak.
Can you see the many shades of loneliness and how they unfold?
People feel lonely when they are misunderstood or when they cannot find someone who resonates with them. Others, fearing loneliness, keep themselves endlessly busy, always chasing something. Endless waiting leads to loneliness, and those accustomed to solitude become used to others waiting for them. Some create loneliness on purpose—not because they enjoy it, but because they fear that if they yield to solitude, it will swallow them whole. Others flee from loneliness, only to find themselves alone in their endless flight.
Loneliness takes on countless forms. Some are tangible, like the daughter’s sighs or the caretaker’s years of silence. Others are intangible, hidden in rationality, in the joy of new love, or in the sharpness of the elderly mother’s tongue.
Though loneliness can be terrifying, and solitude brings sighs, in truth, we are all fundamentally alone. Think about it—besides yourself, who in this world will live and die with you, accompanying your every breath? Others are destined to be mere visitors in your life, just as you are destined to be a passerby in theirs. If it were otherwise, white-haired companionship and kindred spirits wouldn’t hold such fascination—they offer temporary reprieve from the physical and emotional loneliness we all carry. People long for what they lack, and since so few feel the absence of solitude, so few pursue it.