The Sound of Insects
“THE SOUND OF INSECTS – Record Of A Mummy” is not a film adaptation of literature, but rather the cinematic rapprochement of a fictional text.
X’s dramatic monologue is not addressed to anyone in particular. It is neither descriptive nor retrospective, but deals entirely with the moment. There is no lamentation, no self-pity, no sentimentality. On the contrary, a subliminal self-irony even emerges at times. The text is unobtrusive; it suggests no morals and refrains from measuring value, thereby rendering its impact very direct.
X’s lack of origin and history, his anonymity is analogous to the general alienation of the human being in a global world; the interchangeability of the negligible “characteristics” of his personality corresponds with the attitude towards life in an out-and-out materialistic society. He only becomes a vital, tangible individual – for himself as well – with his extraordinary capacity for suffering and the monstrous masochism of his act. Suicide by self-imposed starvation is an extremely intimate way to die, X wrote in his diary, because one is preoccupied with oneself for such a long time.
Ultimately, the nameless man’s manner of dying also constitutes the most radical form of renouncement: a total retreat from the hustle and bustle in an achievement-oriented society, the unmitigated refusal to consume, to partake in the haste of this life.
The underlying criticism of today’s materialism is palpable. Shimada clearly demands that one take a stance on the unique potential of life. The absence of any comment on the part of the author offers no solace or reconciliation whatsoever, leaving instead the answers to such vexing questions entirely to the viewer.
Therein lies the profound provocation of this story for me; it arouses not only compassion, but above all the need to object – without moralising – and to affirm the value of one’s own personhood as well.
