- "Healing Self-harm"..
I read "Piercing" by the famous Japanese author Ryu Murakami (rest in peace)...
I started reading it because of Nicolas Pesce’s movie—which, by the way, I didn’t like... Sure, it has its own visual style and that neon vibe, but after watching it, I didn’t understand a thing...
And speaking of the book, it’s better! (Surprising, isn’t it?) Overall, I like the dynamic between the characters and, of course, the powerful monologues mixed with dark humor
The story itself is presented in an interesting way through two characters, each with their own traumas. Murakami shows that traumatized people instantly sense each other’s inner brokenness, forming a deep empathetic bond that strips them of their usual cruelty.
The author himself shows that even in a metropolis like Tokyo, there is a form of existential loneliness. The novel emphasizes that behind the prosperous walls of these apartments, dark human deviances may lurk—deviances that society doesn’t care about until someone sees a corpse or some other tragedy…
And the novel’s title is the central metaphor. For Tiaki, piercings and self-harm—just like Kawashima’s desire to pierce flesh—serve an important therapeutic (albeit destructive) function… they both survived the horror of childhood abuse. A piercing is pain that a person chooses for themselves.
It’s a way of declaring: “My body belongs to me, and only I decide when and how I will feel pain.”… and for Tiaki, cuts and piercings are a way to escape a state (where it feels as though she doesn’t exist).
That very pain brings her back to reality.
Naturally, the book doesn’t attempt to justify them or their deviant behavior.
It’s a ruthless psychological diagnosis of a society that ignores childhood trauma.
The author shows that violence against a child never goes unnoticed; it remains within a person like a time bomb that will go off sooner or later.
But of course, there are some downsides I should mention:
The novel’s ending leaves a sense of incompleteness, in my opinion; it cuts off at a climactic moment, offering no resolution or answers to the questions raised. The story is certainly short and intimate, and the downside is that I felt it lacked further exploration; but on the other hand, the open ending is just as it is.
In my view, the ending shows that they don’t become “normal” in that sense. However, the author offers hope: they cease to be alone in their madness.
Ryū Murakami shows that salvation from inner demons lies not in therapy, but in absolute, terrifying sincerity and acceptance of one’s partner’s dark sides.
Kawashima abandons the idea of killing his daughter, as his destructive impulse has found an outlet and understanding in Tiaki.
I Recommend