you’re having a sale, I’ll buy some,” he said gruffly. “Two cartons, please!” The timing seemed suspicious, and Kogito couldn’t help wondering whether the man’s appearance might be part of a prearranged charade.
“Coming right up,” said the proprietor. “The special price for one box is thirty dollars, so your total will be sixty dollars. I’m sure you’re familiar with this amazing product. You know their slogan: DRINK IT NOW! GET IT UP! DO IT TWICE! Your lucky missus is going to be in seventh heaven! Thank you for your business.”
That’s all there was to the story, but O’Brian showed his marvelous character by not only laughing uproariously but also helping Kogito, afterward, to make his laborious telling of the anecdote much tighter and more forceful. When the Irish actor was on the airplane, heading home to London, he spent a good deal of time reworking the English translation of the advertising slogan ( DRINK IT NOW! GET IT UP! DO IT TWICE! ). He even gave his notes to a crew member on the flight, which was returning to Narita, with instructions to deliver them to Kogito. O’Brian suggested a way of making the slogan “a bit more lewd,” and Kogito obligingly changed the words to GET IT UP! GET IT ON! SHAG ALL NIGHT!
By the time Kogito had located the card bearing the English-language version of the anecdote it was already midnight in Tokyo, but it was still late afternoon in Berlin. While he was telling the story over the telephone, he couldn’t help noticing the contrast between the youthful freshness of the girl’s laughter—she was clearly excited about the first snow—and the mature rumble of Goro’s satisfied-sounding laughter, as the two merry voices intermingled.
Kogito was pleased to realize that a memory that had seemed to be extinguished was actually very clear, especially since it was a recollection that seemed to be infused with (these were the first words that sprang to mind) a sort of crystalline brightness. In Goro’s twilight years, which had come far too soon, that kind of delight was rather rare.
5
While Kogito was living in Berlin, he always had Saturdays and Sundays free. There were no classes, no lunches with his colleagues at the Center for Advanced Research, no academic presentations. Kogito had very little desire to stroll around the noisy, teeming streets, so he usually passed the time by lying on his bed and reading a book, or reminiscing about various things having to do with Goro. While his mind was meandering dreamily through his memories, it sometimes headed off in a distinctly R-rated direction.
One such reminiscence dated back to a time when Goro, who was still married to Katsuko, was frequently going overseas for film roles. Goro was just back from America when he turned up one evening in a taxi to visit Kogito, who had himself only recently returned from a teaching stint at the University of California at Berkeley. Goro rarely took taxis—he preferred to tool around in his sleek, luminous Bentley—and the reason he deliberately used one on this night was because he was planning to drink a large quantity ofwhiskey in the hopes of routing the depression that was plaguing him.
Throughout the evening, Goro held forth while sipping continuously from a glass filled (and refilled many times over) with Old Parr whiskey, neat, from a bottle Kogito had received from his publisher as a holiday gift. Chikashi kept them company until shortly after 10 PM , then excused herself and went to bed. After that it was just Goro and Kogito, one-on-one. Maybe Goro had been restraining himself while Chikashi was present, but from then on, even though he seemed to be growing increasingly melancholy, he kept up an antic, eloquent stream of anecdotes.
The previous year, Goro had spent six months acting in a Hollywood film that was made with the intention of justifying the western side of the Boxer Rebellion, and he had just returned from attending the movie’s
“Coming right up,” said the proprietor. “The special price for one box is thirty dollars, so your total will be sixty dollars. I’m sure you’re familiar with this amazing product. You know their slogan: DRINK IT NOW! GET IT UP! DO IT TWICE! Your lucky missus is going to be in seventh heaven! Thank you for your business.”
That’s all there was to the story, but O’Brian showed his marvelous character by not only laughing uproariously but also helping Kogito, afterward, to make his laborious telling of the anecdote much tighter and more forceful. When the Irish actor was on the airplane, heading home to London, he spent a good deal of time reworking the English translation of the advertising slogan ( DRINK IT NOW! GET IT UP! DO IT TWICE! ). He even gave his notes to a crew member on the flight, which was returning to Narita, with instructions to deliver them to Kogito. O’Brian suggested a way of making the slogan “a bit more lewd,” and Kogito obligingly changed the words to GET IT UP! GET IT ON! SHAG ALL NIGHT!
By the time Kogito had located the card bearing the English-language version of the anecdote it was already midnight in Tokyo, but it was still late afternoon in Berlin. While he was telling the story over the telephone, he couldn’t help noticing the contrast between the youthful freshness of the girl’s laughter—she was clearly excited about the first snow—and the mature rumble of Goro’s satisfied-sounding laughter, as the two merry voices intermingled.
Kogito was pleased to realize that a memory that had seemed to be extinguished was actually very clear, especially since it was a recollection that seemed to be infused with (these were the first words that sprang to mind) a sort of crystalline brightness. In Goro’s twilight years, which had come far too soon, that kind of delight was rather rare.
5
While Kogito was living in Berlin, he always had Saturdays and Sundays free. There were no classes, no lunches with his colleagues at the Center for Advanced Research, no academic presentations. Kogito had very little desire to stroll around the noisy, teeming streets, so he usually passed the time by lying on his bed and reading a book, or reminiscing about various things having to do with Goro. While his mind was meandering dreamily through his memories, it sometimes headed off in a distinctly R-rated direction.
One such reminiscence dated back to a time when Goro, who was still married to Katsuko, was frequently going overseas for film roles. Goro was just back from America when he turned up one evening in a taxi to visit Kogito, who had himself only recently returned from a teaching stint at the University of California at Berkeley. Goro rarely took taxis—he preferred to tool around in his sleek, luminous Bentley—and the reason he deliberately used one on this night was because he was planning to drink a large quantity ofwhiskey in the hopes of routing the depression that was plaguing him.
Throughout the evening, Goro held forth while sipping continuously from a glass filled (and refilled many times over) with Old Parr whiskey, neat, from a bottle Kogito had received from his publisher as a holiday gift. Chikashi kept them company until shortly after 10 PM , then excused herself and went to bed. After that it was just Goro and Kogito, one-on-one. Maybe Goro had been restraining himself while Chikashi was present, but from then on, even though he seemed to be growing increasingly melancholy, he kept up an antic, eloquent stream of anecdotes.
The previous year, Goro had spent six months acting in a Hollywood film that was made with the intention of justifying the western side of the Boxer Rebellion, and he had just returned from attending the movie’s
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