Twenty five years ago, I read in the New Yorker
A short story titled « Barn Burning » written by Haruki Murakami.
I was then a young student in a French engineering school.
My English course consisted in reading short stories,
Then writing about them.
Eventually we would write our own – I still have it somewhere,
But this is not our subject matter here –
If you haven’t read Barn Burning, you should,
You may access it for free where everything is always
Free and accessible.
Here’s half and hour so that you can peruse it.

…

My interpretation of Murakami’s piece was that
The narrator is told stories which may or may not be true,
Then spends some of his life proving their truth.
A few weeks ago I became aware of Burning,
The Korean film which won nothing at the Cannes festival
While being the public’s darling
I was also told it was inspired by the Murakami short story,
In turn inspired by Barn Burning written by William Faulkner.

I have not read the Faulkner story, but some day I will.
– It seems only logical to read it twenty five years from now. –
Too often in the flow of stuff, do I forget what kind of material
I have used to build the house I live in. Fragile cathedrals,
Words read long time ago, stories I did not forget,
My memories are alive. This is what I am made of
And how I know the world to be a magnificent miracle.

Image credit : Burning