２４　Ａｐｒｉｌ，　Ｒｉｋｕ　Ｏｎｄａ

In search of meaning.


I watched a DVD of

Room

237

, directed by Rodney Ascher. This low-key documentary features a number of people discoursing at length on their interpretations of Stanley Kubrick’s film

The

Shining

(1980). For some reason I get the urge to see it about once a year. The title is taken from

The

Shining

; room 237 is where a tragedy once occurred, in the hotel where a couple and their son live when the husband takes a job there as the winter caretaker.
　　

The

Shining

also became famous for being panned by Stephen King, author of the novel on which it was based. Questions of how well the film reflects King’s novel aside, it can nevertheless only be described as a masterpiece of extraordinary tension and craftsmanship in filmmaking.
　　The documentary presents a diverse range of interpretations of The Shining, some of them sensationalist—for example, it’s about the cover-up of a massacre of Native Americans, or a confession of involvement with faking the Apollo program moon landings—but when you hear mistakes and discrepancies pointed out of a kind that you would not expect Kubrick, who was a perfectionist, to overlook, it is easy to understand why the film invites such speculation.
　　It interests me how every time I watch this documentary I find myself responding to a different theory. This time, the one that resonated with me most as being quite possible was the theory that Kubrick had attempted to make a subliminal film. Apparently he actually did do research on subliminal advertising and propaganda images before making

The

Shining

. But if that is the case, what exactly was he trying to convey subliminally? The person who propounded this theory had not yet reached the point of being able to answer this question.
　　It feels good to find deep meaning in things. Which is to say, people seek meaning in what they see, and discover different meanings according to their situation and state of mind at the time they see it. The meaning they find also changes considerably over time, becoming overwritten whenever they reflect on it. Conversely, people cannot stand anything that is meaningless or without reason. There was a mystery novel I was gripped by one spring nine years ago, trying to work out ‘how did they put poison in the bottle under the sink?’ I wanted for the deaths in the novel to be more than just numbers; I wanted there to be motive and intent behind them also.
　　When we look back on this spring in the future, I wonder if we will discover any meaning in it, and find a reason for it. And when I watch

Room

237

again at that time, I wonder which theory will resonate with me then.


Translated by Alison Watts/Arranged by TranNet KK

Riku Onda
Born in Miyagi Prefecture, 1964. Made her literary debut in 1992 with

Rokubanme

no

Sayoko

(The sixth Sayoko). Winner of the 26th Yoshikawa Eiji Prize for New Writers and first place in the 2nd Japan Booksellers’ Award for

Yoru

no

pikunikku

(Night picnic) in 2005, the 59th Mystery Writers of Japan Award for Best Novel for

Yūjinia

(Eugenia) in 2006 with an English translation by Alison Watts with the title

The

Aosawa

Murders

(Bitter Lemon Press, 2020), the 20th Yamamoto Shūgorō Prize for

Nakaniwa

no

dekigoto

(The event in the courtyard) in 2007, and the 156th Naoki Prize and first place in the 14th Japan Booksellers’ Award for

Mitsubachi

to

enrai

(Honeybee and distant thunder).