“Please make lots of money easy, don’t do like me. Using body for money is hard. So difficult work. Never do it. Just make lots of money easy. Teach English. You can do it.”
“Maybe”
I look at my picture,
“How old were you?”
“17”
“What happened to you?”
“Moreugesseoyo”
He nods his head.
*
I’m walking out, he’s walking in.
“Where are you going?”
“I was going home, I’m tired.”
Another friend is walking in.
“What’s going on?”
The three of us talk.
We go back inside.
“If you really want to learn Korean you have to get a girlfriend. It is the easiest way. You’ll learn so fast”
I’ve heard this over 10 times. I’ve only been here for a week.
“How do you meet someone?”
“You have to go to a club or a bar where people go to meet each other.”
“Where?”
“Just down the street. You’re an anthropologist, right? I bet you could meet someone tonight.”
“Tonight?”
The five of us head to the next bar.
There are cameras everywhere.
All eyes on us.
The streets shine.
The most amount of snow that has fallen in Seoul in over a hundred years.
The streets shine.
We all shine.
I look at her, she looks at the table.
“This game very much enjoy”
“Chincha?”
I sign us up to compete.
We both like it.
“Ich Liebe Deutschland”
He gets us two free bottles.
Our group has grown.
We get much drunker.
“Leave her alone”
“I’m just playing pool”
She won’t let go of me.
He pushes my homie, and he pushes his homie.
She’s still holding me, we move out of the way.
A fight starts and we run out to the street.
“What happened?”
“I’m not sure”
The snow is cold and we keep walking.
Our fingers lock, we walk side by side.
“You called me cute, you called me pretty, you called me beautiful. Why don’t you tell me you love me?”
We kiss.
She let’s go.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
We nod.
It’s 6AM when I get home.
I woke up at 9.
She doesn’t text back.
She probably never will…
I pick up my flashlight and I make my way through the night. There’s no path in the forest.
On March 20th, 1995 there was a terrorist attack in the Tokyo subway system in Japan. The members of the cult, “Aum Shinrikyo” released toxic sarin gas inside the metro cars causing 14 deaths and the injury of 5,800 people.
When critically acclaimed author Haruki Murakami pondered as to why a heart surgeon would quit their job, join a cult and commit a violent act towards innocent people whom he once vowed to protect, it set him off to write a book about it.
This book is called Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche, which contains 60 interviews with the victims of the attack and (in the English translation) 8 interviews with cult members. This was a piece of journalistic literature released in 1997 in order to bring light to some of the issues found in Japanese society, according to Murakami. He claimed that the psychological effects of the event were causing more trouble to the victims than was being realistically acknowledged, and that the severity of the event was undermined.
This is an example of what I would like to call applied anthropology. By using unstructured interviews he allows the reader to gain an insight into the real effects that the event had on the victims so that the general population could understand how it felt to be one of these people. This would allow some of the victims to receive more empathy from other members of society like their family or co-workers.
At this moment, what spikes my curiosity about this project is how it relates to Murakami’s late 2000’s release, 1Q84.
1Q84 is a fictional book in which two unique characters leave their universes (in a mandela effect kind of way) to find love after years of not hearing a single word about each other. One of them is an assassin that specializes in killing abusive men, and the other is a ghostwriter for a successful young novelist. The book sold 1 million copies within a month and revolves around a religious cult that has incredible amounts of power. The chapters alternate between the two characters and their plotlines, which eventually come together through events that seem larger than life.
It isn’t difficult to find similarities between the fictional cult group and the real group that committed those violent acts in Japan once you start to analyze them. The fictional group, Sakigake, was created by a group of revolutionary anthropologists who were looking to create a truly self-sustainable lifestyle that allowed people to be happy in their community devoid of the issues of contemporary society. This goes wrong when some of the anthropologists become extremist buddhists who seek higher supernatural knowledge that gives them powers, which they use in the book, powers such as telekinesis and telepathy.
In the real life cult “Aum Shinrikyo” the goal was something similar, but not exactly the same. They seeked to go up the ranks of the religious cult. There were rituals and exercises that one had to practice for prolonged amounts of time in order to be promoted. The higher your rank, the less suffering you experienced and you become closer to the truth and sequentially nirvana. In Underground Murakami asks about these events which are described in detail. Some people were forced to take massive amounts of LSD in order to do a shaman like ritual that could promote you to the next level. Many of these individuals were never promoted because they never reached the expected breakthrough. Another individual went as far as to claim that they could levitate and that they were good at it.
Murakami’s work has delved into the Lacanian other in the past and it is no coincidence that the private investigator in his novel from 1995, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, returns. The private investigator works for a political candidate in the latter book, and in 1Q84 he works for the religious cult as they attempt to track down the assassin and the ghost writer who declined the millions of dollars offered to him to continue writing the young girl’s books.
In the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, a Lacanian “big other” takes the protagonist’s wife away. His wife’s brother is an important politician who doesn’t want her to be with the protagonist anymore, which leads to her sudden disappearance. This big other can have an ominous presence in real life and it seems to me that it has massively influenced Murakami’s work.
Murakami’s anthropology is not a traditional anthropology or an experimental anthropology. In fact it is barely an anthropology, but it is indeed a delve into an understanding of Japanese culture and how society can interact with the Lacanian other within an individual’s ability to be a part of such a thing.
Tengo, one of the protagonists of 1Q84 decides to illegally rewrite some parts of a young girl’s book unaware that she was the fugitive daughter of the cult leader. She instantly became a sensation because of an award given by a company owned by the cult. This caused Tengo’s reading to become extremely popular without anyone being aware of it except his agent and the girl. Of course, the big other knew, but this is a purely fictional tale.
Aum Shinrikyo had a following of over 10,000, but it is highly unlikely that they ever achieved that kind of power. Or that they could have received the kind of investment that could allow them to buy publishing houses all across the board. It is difficult to know how much power freemasons could have, yet Murakami’s work is an interesting exploration about an individual’s relationship to such a powerful big other.
His work is worth understanding and is an experience that brings an individual closer to truths that one can only know if they experience them themselves. Reading Murakami is an ontological experience.
What is curiosity? How do we unleash it? Its more than just asking questions. Questions may seem simple, but they hold the power to reshape how we see the world.
Curiosity drives us to ask questions, seek understanding, and challenge the status quo. It’s the spark behind every discovery and innovation. But beyond that, curiosity connects us—to ideas, to people, and to the endless possibilities of what we can learn and create together.
Curiosity is more than just asking, “Why?” It’s the urge to dig deeper, to explore beyond what we already know, and to remain open to fresh perspectives. It’s what pushes us to peel back the onion layers and find meaning, even in the ordinary.
It’s also deeply personal. Maybe your curiosity pulls you toward understanding how communities thrive, why architecture influences emotion, or what social media trend is going to occur next. Whatever drives you, curiosity offers a lens to see the world in new and exciting ways.
Why Curiosity Matters
On a personal level, it leads to growth. It teaches us to think critically, to adapt, and to remain open-minded. My own journey into anthropology began with a simple question: How do people and environments shape each other? That one question turned into years of study and research—and ultimately the creation of this blog.
On a larger scale, curiosity drives progress. It’s behind the breakthroughs in medicine that save lives, the design innovations that reshape cities, and the political movements that demand change. Every great leap forward starts with someone daring to ask, “What if?”
A Personal Story of Curiosity
During my anthropology studies, I found myself fascinated by how people and businesses adapted to the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic. What began as casual interest turned into months of research, helping me uncover not just data, but the human stories behind the statistics. That experience reminded me that even small questions can lead to profound insights. I can go ahead and link those studies to a different post for those who are interested.
Why Curiosity is at the Heart of This Blog
This blog, Beyond the Books, was created with curiosity at its core. It’s a space to explore ideas, ask meaningful questions, and dive into topics that connect us all. Whether we’re discussing health, architecture, politics, or the latest trends in research, the goal is to go beyond the surface and uncover the stories and ideas that truly matter.
BeyondtheBooks 