“If the composition’s imperfect, why would so many pianists try to master it?”
“Good question,” Oshima says, and pauses as music fills in the silence. “I have no great explanation for it, but one thing I can say: works that have a certain imperfection to them have an appeal for that very reason — or at least they appeal to certain types of people . Just like you’re attracted to Soseki’s The Minder. There’s something in it that draws you in, more than more fully realised novels like Kokoro or Sanshiro. You discover something about that work that tugs at your heart — or maybe we should say that the work discovers you.
“As long as there’s such a thing as time, everybody’s damaged in the end, changed into something else. It always happens, sooner or later.”
“But even if that happens, you’ve got to have a place you can retrace your steps to.”
“A place you can retrace your steps to?”
“A place that’s worth coming back to.”