#creative gene

In a conversation with an American screenwriter, Ryu Murakami once said that all stories follow the same plot: the protagonist falls into a hole and either crawls out or dies within. When I heard that, it made sense to me; I could see nearly all stories fitting into that pattern. But in his genius, Abe would not settle for the ordinary. The Woman in the Dunes offers a third plot: the man finds a life inside the pit. Even in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Alice’s experiences inside the rabbit hole work toward bringing her back to reality. Not so in The Woman in the Dunes. When the man is stranded at the bottom of the pit, he at first struggles to escape, but in the end, he chooses to remain there. When he finally obtains his much-longed-for means of escape, he has an epiphany and comes to understand the freedom to be found in staying inside the hole — a freedom that he chooses while letting a different freedom go. And that is what life is. Is that same third option not the framework that governs our society, our work, our families, our life, and our day-to-day life? Unknowingly, we all are lured into our pits, swallowed up, and we struggle to crawl out. But even if we make it out, nothing is changed. Outside, new holes are being dug; being trapped in a different pit is the only outcome. There are many such pits in life. Some are made for us, and others we make particularly for ourselves. For every pit trap, there is also a shelter. To live is to fall into many pits. As long as you are walking forward, you will fall into a pit. —Hideo Kojima, The Creative Gene (2010)

How about that? I’m not sure if any other novel has so excellent a setup and as surprising a plot. —Hideo Kojima, The Creative Gene (2011)

—Hideo Kojima, The Creative Gene (2011)

He’s right. I’m not Western. I’m not Eastern. I’m not Japanese. I’m Hideo Kojima. Because the games I make are played across national and cultural boundaries, I’m sometimes called “Sekai no Kojima,” meaning “Kojima of the World.” But there’s no need to let myself be so confounded by some nickname. The only thing I need to do is create my own world—the world of Hideo Kojima. Sharing that with the rest of the world is my karma. I made up my mind. I don’t need a satori (epiphany). I will bear my karma and go on living with it. —Hideo Kojima, The Creative Gene (2011)

Orgel is a coming-of-age story; Hayato grows from being unwilling to listen to the concerns of adults, to being able to feel empathy for their sorrows (to hear their timbre). Of Shukawa’s works, this is the first I’ve read that has tried to bridge the current Heisei era into the future. In this moment, we are being tested. And the rest of the world is watching us to see if Japan can once again pull off a miracle. And in this test—this disaster—what can we do? How will we create bridges into the future? We are being asked to prove our merit. Even if a meme can only be heard by one person, each and every one of us should attempt to listen, and then pass it on to the world, just as Tonda trusted Hayato to do. Those connections are another music box—one that has been entrusted to us. —Hideo Kojima, The Creative Gene (2011)

Christie is easy to read. Hers are not the kind of novels you read closely, but rather in a casual way, like how you’d approach a quiz show or video game. Her books are a perfect length and density. Though her stories contain a greater-than-typical number of characters, the characters are not complex and are quickly familiarized. And, most importantly, even though her stories deal with murder, they aren’t depressing. That’s not to suggest that Christie doesn’t provide motives proper for killing. But whatever grudge or hatred motivates the crime, it isn’t the kind that stays with you after the book is done. Unlike modern mysteries, they don’t place an emphasis on social issues. They are intellectual games that focus on dilemma and deceit. And much like action or puzzle games, the more you read them, the better you get at it. You’ll gradually learn her patterns and will become able to get ahead of her—and then you can test your skills on the next book. That said, if you get sloppy, Christie will trounce you. As you test your intellect against Christie’s, you’ll develop “gray cells” surpassing Poirot’s, and you’ll become a lover of books of all kinds. —Hideo Kojima, The Creative Gene (2011)

A letter can’t go to multiple parties. It’s not bidirectional. A gap will always occur between the time it’s sent and the time it’s received. The time and circumstances of its reading can’t be designated, nor will they be shared by the sender and receiver. Once you let it go, you can’t delete or edit it. Letters are a poor medium prone to misunderstandings and missed connections — which is precisely why I want to advocate for letters in these times. It is because a letter is a one-way street that the writer and reader are able to come together toward the middle. Through the exchange of letters, we naturally strengthen our ability to empathize and to understand our shared emotions. And if we’ve forgotten that, Kinshu is here to remind us. —Hideo Kojima, The Creative Gene (2010)

Everywhere you go, cats are the cat’s pajamas. Bookstores will often have a special section featuring cat books. Mahokaru Numata’s Nekonari and Heinlein’s The Door into Summer seem to be mainstays. But the cat novel I keep on my bookshelf I never see in any bookstore. Recently, thirty-three years since the last time I read it, I took Jennie from the shelf and gave it another read. What I found surprised me: Jennie hadn’t just influenced my view of women, but my creative work. In Metal Gear Solid 3, The Boss confronts the player character, Snake (a stray dog), with a choice: “Will you live as a dog? Or will you live as a cat?” Subconsciously, I must have been inspired for her character by Jennie. The Metal Gear Solid series had been the story of patricide committed by mercenaries who belong to an organization (in other words, dogs of war). I created The Boss (a mother cat) to bring in the viewpoint of motherhood and stray cats. MGS3 was born from Jennie’s meme. —Hideo Kojima, The Creative Gene (2012)