Kafka, Chekhov and guns.

Kafka, Chekhov and guns

He kept the book on a dusty table, and looked up. The sun was on top of his head now, almost blinding his sight but he looked up anyway. He had stayed up all night to finish reading a Murakami book ‘Kafka On The Shore’.

In the book, Murakami brought up the Chekhov’s gun principle which basically meant that once a gun appears in a story, it has to be fired. Chekhov must’ve said it with the perspective of a writer, and Murakami might have brought it up to explain the importance of a certain element of his story. But he, who stayed up all night just to read the book, had not stopped thinking about this theory.

A week ago, his friend had broken up with her boyfriend and she was devastated. So, he spent a long time with her as she cried and cursed and let all of her pain out. He spent a lot of this time consoling her and telling her about how she has to stand up straight and walk again someday. “There is no use in grieving about what has been lost. Grief is important and should never be kept in, but once it has been let out, you have to let go.” He went on to explain how she had to smile and continue writing her story, her life.

She’s fine now. He, however is driving himself crazy on how the Chekhov’s gun theory and the fact that our lives are our stories become one. Everyone has a role. Nothing at all is placed without importance, and there is no bigger mistake than to think you have no place in this world.

He had run away a day ago. His father had hit him, he had seen tears in his mother’s eyes and he didn’t want to be with either of them anymore. He didn’t feel like he fit in, anywhere. So he picked up Kafka, a pair of pajamas and a chocolate bar and left. He had wandered around the block for a while, then went to the park to read the book.

You’re like a gun in Chekhov’s dramatic principle. At one point or another, you will be held, someone’s arms will wrap themselves around you as they pull the trigger. Make sure that someone is you. Everything is like a gun in Chekhov’s dramatic principle. We are all loaded guns waiting for our trigger to be pulled and we have to be very careful.

His eyes watered a bit because of looking at the sun for too long. He got up, took the book and went home.


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