Miranda July – No One Belongs Here More Than You

Miranda July - No One Belongs Here More Than You DoMiranda July’ı Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005) ile tanıdım ve hemen oracıkta çarpıldım. Birkaç ay evvel, Barış’la lab’da otururken, son derece olağan bir şey söylüyormuş gibi “Miranda July’ın yeni kitabı çıkmış..” dedi de, inanamadım. İnterneti yokladığımda kitabın sitesi ile karşılaştım, Hande de hazır İngiltere’ye gidiyorken, ondan kitabı rica ettim, o da sağolsun, beni kırmayıp bu güzel hediye ile geldi.

Kitaptaki 16 hikayenin tümünü koklaya koklaya okudum. Naif hikayeler bunlar, anlatıcının hep hikayenin en kırılgan insanı olduğu hikayeler. Yeni tanıştığınız bir insanla bir yerden bir yere giderken yan yana yürüdüğünüzde onun da en az sizin kadar bir insan olduğunu, binlerce anısı olduğunu akıl etmek gibi bir şey. Onunla havadan sudan şeyler konuşmaktayken aslında size ulaşmaya çalışmaya çırpındığını fark etmek, sizin hoşunuza gitmeye uğraştığını fark etmek, buna gerçekten çok ihtiyacı olduğunu fark etmek gibi bir şey. Ya da yazarın kendi ağzından söylemek gerekirse:

I’m not following you.
My car’s parked over there.

– In Smart Park?
– No, on Front Street.

Oh, I parked in Smart Park.

So, at the end of the next block
we’ll separate. At Tyrone Street.

Yeah, the “Ice Land” sign is halfway.

It’s the halfway… point.

Ice Land is—

It’s kind of like that point
in a relationship, you know…

where you suddenly realize
it’s not gonna last forever.

You know, you can
see the end in sight.

Tyrone Street.

Yeah, but we’re not even there yet.

We’re still at the good part.
We’re not even sick of each other yet.

I’m not sick of you at all.

And wow! It’s been a good
like six months, right?

What? Six months?

Then the Ice Land sign
is like eight months?

You think we’d only last
a year and a half?

I don’t know. I don’t
want to be presumptuous.

– I don’t know if you’re married or what.
– I’m not.

Well, I’m separated.
We separated last month.

I was thinking…

that Tyrone…

was like years away at least.

– Yeah?
– Yeah.

Okay. Well, actually
I was thinking…

Tyrone is, like,
when we die of old age.

And this is, like, our whole life
together, this block.

See, that’s perfect.

– Let’s do it that way.
– Okay.

Well, guess it can’t be avoided.
Everyone dies.

I could walk you to your car.

Maybe we should just be glad…

that we lived this long,
good life together.

You know, it’s so much more
than most people ever get to have.

– Okay.
– Okay.

– Well, don’t be afraid.
– Okay.

– Here we go.
– Here we go.

Miranda July, You and Me and Every One We Know senaryosundan detay..

Hikayelerden en sevdiğim Mon Plaisir oldu. “Yaşanan bir başkalaşımın ardından eski hali gözden geçirebilme yeteneğinin gelişi hakkında” şeklinde hayli entel dantel bir klasmana dahil edebileceğimiz bu hikayeye arkadaş olarak Something That Needs Nothing ile Birthmark‘ı da dahil edebiliriz. Hikayelerin çoğu nereye varacağı bilinmeden yazılmaya başlanmış tadında. Miranda July, çarpıcı/değişik/absürd bir ilk paragraf yazıp, oradan denize açılıyor. Son hikaye olan How to Tell Stories to Children‘la bir Doris Lessing hikaye toplamasında karşılaşsam yadırgamazdım. Something That Needs Nothing‘le birlikte, en yaralayıcı hikaye. Filmine en yakın tadı aldığım hikayeler hayli gerçekçi ama bir o kadar da olmaz gelen Ten True Things ile naif (sanıyorum aynı giriş içinde ikinci kez ‘naif’ kelimesini kullandım) The Boy From Lam Kien oldu. The Swim Team “Miranda July 101” dersi için ideal bir referans olurdu.

Ian M. Banks’in Inversions’ında Perrund adlı bir nedime, kralın çocuğuna bir hikaye anlatır:

‘Will you tell me a story?’
‘A story? I’m not sure I know any.’
‘But everybody knows stories. Didn’t you used to be told stories when you were little? . . .

Perrund?’
‘Yes. Yes, I’m sure I was. Yes, I have a story.’
‘Oh good . . . Perrund?
‘Yes. Well. Let me see. Once upon a time . . . once upon a time there was a little girl.’

‘Yes?’

‘Yes. She was rather an ugly child, and her parents did not like or care for her at all.’

‘What was her name??

‘Her name? Her name was… Dawn.’

‘Dawn. That’s a pretty name.’

‘Yes. Unfortunately she was not very pretty, as I have said. She lived in a town she hated with parents she loathed. They made her do all sorts of things they thought she ought to do, which she hated, and they kept her locked up a lot of the time. They forced her to wear rags and sacking, they refused to buy her shoes for her feet or ribbons for her hair and they did not let her play with the other children. They never told her any stories at all.’

‘Poor Dawn!’

‘Yes, she was a poor thing, wasn’t she? She would cry herself to sleep most nights, and pray to the old gods or appeal to Providence to deliver her from such unhappiness. She wished that she could escape from her parents, but because they kept her locked up she could not. But then one day the fair came to town, with players and stages and tents and jugglers and acrobats and fire-breathers and knife-throwers and strong men and dwarves and people on stilts and all their servants and performing animals. Dawn was fascinated by the fair and wanted to see. it and be made happy by it, for she felt that she had no life at all where she was, but her parents hid her away. They did not want her to have fun watching all the wonderful acts and shows, and they were worried that if people saw that they had such an ugly child they would make fun of them and perhaps even tempt her to leave to become an exhibit in their freaks of nature show.’

‘Was she really that ugly?’

‘Perhaps not quite that ugly, but still they didn’t want her to be seen, so they hid her away in a secret place they had fashioned in their house. Poor Dawn cried and cried and cried. But what her parents did not know was that the people of the fair always sent some of their performers round the houses in the town, to do little acts of kindness, or to help out with chopping kindling, or to clean up a yard, so that people would feel beholden to them and go and see the fair. They did this in Dawn’s town, and of course her parents, being very mean, could not pass up the opportunity to have some work done for free.

‘They invited the performers into their house and had them tidy it all up, though of course it was quite tidy already because Dawn had done most of the work. While they were cleaning the house, and even leaving little presents behind, for these were very kind and generous performers — a clown, I think, and a fire-breather and a knife-thrower — they heard poor Dawn crying in her secret prison, and they released her and made her happy by their antics, and were very kind to her. She felt appreciated and loved for the first time, and tears of joy rolled down her face. Her bad parents had hidden themselves in the cellar, and later on they ran away, embarrassed at having been so cruel to Dawn.

‘The performers from the fair gave Dawn her life back. She even started to feel not so ugly, and was able to dress better than her parents had let her dress, and feel clean and good. Perhaps, she thought, she was not destined to be ugly and unhappy all her life, as she had imagined. Perhaps she was beautiful and her life would be full of happiness. Somehow just being with the performers made her feel pretty, and she started to realise that they had made her beautiful, that she had only been ugly because people had told her she was ugly and now she was not. It was like magic.

‘Dawn decided that she wanted to join the fair and go with the performers, but they told her sadly that they could not let her do that because if they did then people might think that they were the sort of people who took little girls away from their families, and their good name would suffer. They told her she ought to stay and look for her parents. She saw the sense of what they were telling her, and because she felt strong and capable and alive and beautiful, she was able to wave goodbye to the fair when it left and all the kind performers went away to take their happiness and kindness to another town. And do you know what?’

‘What?’

‘She did find her parents, and they were nice and good to her for ever afterwards. She found a handsome young fellow, too, and married him and had lots of babies and they lived happily ever after. And, as well as all that, one day, she did catch up with the fair, and was able to join it and be part of it and try to think of a way to repay the performers for their earlier kindness.

‘And that is the story of Dawn, an ugly, unhappy child who became beautiful and happy.’

‘Hmm. That is quite a good story. I wonder if Mr DeWar has any more stories about Lavishia. They are a bit strange, but I think he means well. I think I ought to sleep now. I — oh!’

‘Ah, I’m sorry.’

‘What was that? Water? On my hand . . .’

‘It was just a happy tear. It is such a happy story. It makes me cry. Oh, what are you— ?’

‘Yes, it tastes of salt.’

‘Oh, you are a charmer, young Master Lattens, to lick a lady’s tears up so! Let go my hand. I must . . . There. That’s better. You sleep now. Your father will be here soon, I’m sure. I’ll send in the nurse to make sure you’re tucked in properly. Oh, do you need this? Is this your comforter?’

‘Yes. Thank you, Perrund. Good night.’

‘Good night.’

Iain M. Banks, Inversions‘dan detay..

Sonradan öğreniriz ki, bu hikaye Perrund’un hikayesidir ve ancak tamamıyla ters çevrilerek anlatıldığında dayanılabilir hale gelmektedir… Miranda July’ın This Person‘ı da işte “böylesine mutlu” bir hikayeydi.

Alıntılarla birlikte epey uzun bir giriş oldu. Bu girişe başlarken aklımda The Swim Team ile This Person’ı, hatta belki de Mon Plaisir’i dijital ortama geçirip paylaşmak vardı ama sonradan vazgeçtim. Ayrıca başından beri de Michael Andrews’un yaptığı filmin soundtrack’ini dinliyorum. Bendeki hali tek parça, 49 dakikalık bir dosya, vaktiyle http://www.elginpark.com/meandyousite1.html adresinden apartmıştım, tavsiye ederim.

Miranda July!..

“Miranda July – No One Belongs Here More Than You” için 2 yorum

  1. Başlıksız — Ben de geçen gün DVD’cinin önünden geçerken Me and You and Everyone We Know’un kopyasını gördüm, “gün içi” kiraladım, eve geldim, hdd’ye attım ve geri götürdüm. İzlemek için güzel bir an bekliyordum, hadi bize gelin izleyelim…

  2. Takke! — Ben de geçen gün Bahçelievler 7. Cadde’deydim, Renko’nun güzel insanlarına gidiyordum, aklımdan sen geçtin, ‘arasam şu Löker’i’ dedim ama sonra saat itibarı ile uyuyor olacağına hükmedip, aramadım. Toplu olarak kendimizi göstermemiz mümkün değil Ece’nin 12.00 – 15.00 arası öğle ve 20.30+ akşam uykusundan kelli (+ bir de ramazan ve iftar kardeşler var, bayram ağabey de yakında buralarda olacak). Ama kişisel performans bazında bayıla bayıla gelirim (ama ondan önce de Fişeklerlen bir gün geçirip pepigraf’a arayüz yazacağım). Böyle böyle Löker’im, Miranda July ve Sen ve tanıdığımız herkeşler…

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