Tamura is surely a Murakami character. Sixsmith is undeniably from Cloud Atlas. The name-shifting man was even subliminally stoking our protagonist’s literary awakening!
A hint: you read another book by the same author and very much didn't like it. It is sitting on my shelf. (We have both read at least three books by this author.)
Glad you got your mojo flowing. Sometimes writing in public helps because you have to look down and get into it without distractions. Great story, you really painted a picture but..... bangs? Do you really say that?
No, definitely Melbourne feelings. More that the man-with-many-names, through his presence and the transient authors and characters he embodies, imparted this change in word choice, briefly, to the protagonist.
You make coffee almost sound like tea. I think it’s all that matcha you drank a while ago speaking up, calling you back. 😉
I enjoyed this piece a lot. In a way, it was a return to your voice from the first pieces you published here. Warm, intimate, effortless, sophisticated. Loved the conclusion, it gave me Japanese vibes, it suits you.
It is a quiet story.and yet,the details are passionate...the yellow face of the watch, each act that goes into the coffee making, and so forth. I do not find it mysterious like some of your readers. I find in it the soul of someone awakened to himself, thinking it was the man of many names who brings out his creative faculty. We all, within, have many names. The next time I have a double espresso, which is everyday, I will definitely pay attention to the person making my coffee!
This is a lovely comment, thank you Boustan. If this leads you to pay more attention to the person making your coffee, then that's a brilliant outcome!
Edit: and also to say, you are spot on about the soul of someone awakened to himself.
Fascinating, exotic and intriguing story Nathan. Just the right amount of mystery with just a hint of a strange sense of underlying, undefinable suspense. Great stuff. - Jim
This is a quiet, mysterious little story. I loved the calm tone. It felt somehow "foreign" or "alien". You engendered a lot of speculation about who the many-named man was... or what the many-named man was. What was his mission? Why did he try to guide the barista, while at the same time learn from the barista? Why were his questions not punctuated. ( That alone is a mystery.) Just excellent, Nathan. You engaged my brain. And my old brain really needs it.
The making of coffee as well as the art of same seem REALLY ZEN here, I'm sure that I'm not the ONLY ONE who notices / will notice. An acquaintance of mine in San Franciso actually saw a performance of the tea ceremony & I'm sure that she would notice the steps in making coffee as well. So many Americans seem to view it as taking medicine. NO PASSION. Simply ANOTHER DAMN TASK to do.
acting as if a piece of chocolate is the last piece on the entire PLANET or a particular orange slice or SHRIMP OR dollop of BARBECUE, etc. 🤤😋 mindful consumption.
Something altogether more wholesome and less sinister than some of your short stories, Nathan - I love the horror, but I love this too. A modern day wizard walks into a cafe... :)
I don’t think there’s a single word I didn’t love in this piece, Nathan. It’s the continuation I was hoping for: a mix of mystery and a sense of incompleteness that I adore. We’ve talked about this before, but I’ll reiterate that the universe sends us messages constantly, in different forms and ways. It’s up to us to gather and decode them. In this story, all of that comes through beautifully but without being intrusive. As a reader, you feel a bit like a butterfly on the wall of that café: silent, respectful, and discreet.
The thing I love about fiction is that fantastical things can happen like people quitting their day job to become a writer. ;-) I enjoyed the story very much. As always, you create such a gravitational presence with your first-person narration I feel no separation from the character I'm reading. It's seamless.
Ahh Nathan, this is a wonderful finale... I feel like it should have had a sound track - I loved the different speeds you inject here, quick-slow-quick-quick-slow... and the mysterious multi named man who must have been, a ghost from the future rather than the past? A prophet...
"I tried to catch his eye. But he was wasn't looking at me. His gaze seemed fixed on some faraway place. It was as if he wasn't in a café at all but on some beach or mountain or deep within a forest." because what else could come from that?
It good to see you flying again... now I'm wondering what's next!
Great piece, Nathan! Glad you came back to it. I really enjoyed the language and reflection in the final paragraph, the malleability of the city, commerce as a being or construct that is always digesting the profound and excreting the mundane (ie. coffee shop into apartment building). Thanks again.
Nicely done, Nathan. It felt like a Borges story, and reminded me of my own Borgesian story (https://terryfreedman.substack.com/p/experiments-in-style-a-borgesian) it also made me think of Gibran, who wrote that when you make something (I am paraphrasing because it's the middle of the night here) you should do so as if your beloved is going to be the recipient.
Thanks you, Nathan. Well, here is the actual quote, which is infinitely more beautiful than my flawed remembering:
THE PROPHET
...
And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
…
Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine.
And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.
Another enigmatic thrill Nathan. I can’t help but wonder if the man with many names is the barista’s future self, still living out infinite possibilities and presenting them, subtly, cryptically, to the young man.
And I love how the café becomes a stage for his existential and artistic musings, where every coffee order feels like it holds a small universe of meaning. Maybe meaning that points him on his path? But also, conversely, no concern for the future at all. There’s a quiet reverence in the story for craft, observation, and the art of being present, whether it’s in preparing an espresso or holding a pen for the first time in years. Something you do quite masterfully, friend.
I enjoyed where this went, nicely done.
Tamura is surely a Murakami character. Sixsmith is undeniably from Cloud Atlas. The name-shifting man was even subliminally stoking our protagonist’s literary awakening!
Thanks, Jamie.
Yes, quite so. Mord, I think, you know too. But from long ago. A book with a very beautiful cover.
I am currently in a bookshop and I am now wandering around trying to judge covers and jog my memory…
Perhaps you didn't read it.
A hint: you read another book by the same author and very much didn't like it. It is sitting on my shelf. (We have both read at least three books by this author.)
I just instinctively picked up the insufferable Dead Astronauts and flicked through it without luck…
Not on the shelf here, but it must be Borne then!
Indeed it is.
Glad you got your mojo flowing. Sometimes writing in public helps because you have to look down and get into it without distractions. Great story, you really painted a picture but..... bangs? Do you really say that?
Hehe, thanks, Shoni. Well, the placement here was deliberate. Very much "fringe" for me.
I first read "bangs" some years ago and had to go look it up in the dictionary.
So you're aiming at an American audience? Your story seems very Melbourne!
No, definitely Melbourne feelings. More that the man-with-many-names, through his presence and the transient authors and characters he embodies, imparted this change in word choice, briefly, to the protagonist.
Deep
Everyone says bangs. Even in Austria. My hairdresser was very frustrated about this the other day.
Haha, frustrated because they didn't like it?
UK and Australia is "fringe". At least as far as I'm aware. Having barely any hair, such topics are largely foreign to me. ;)
Because there’s a German word for it but now it’s trendy to use bangs!
No one here says bangs! Just asked my kids - neither of them knows it, which is why I'm curious that Nathan is using it.
I wondered the same thing. Fringe, surely!
I was absolutely baffled when I first read this word in a forgotten American novel a few years ago.
Fringe, definitely. But "bangs" here.
You make coffee almost sound like tea. I think it’s all that matcha you drank a while ago speaking up, calling you back. 😉
I enjoyed this piece a lot. In a way, it was a return to your voice from the first pieces you published here. Warm, intimate, effortless, sophisticated. Loved the conclusion, it gave me Japanese vibes, it suits you.
You might be right. The matcha infused a sense of ritual. :)
Thanks so much, Claudia!
It is a quiet story.and yet,the details are passionate...the yellow face of the watch, each act that goes into the coffee making, and so forth. I do not find it mysterious like some of your readers. I find in it the soul of someone awakened to himself, thinking it was the man of many names who brings out his creative faculty. We all, within, have many names. The next time I have a double espresso, which is everyday, I will definitely pay attention to the person making my coffee!
The coffee ceremony.
This is a lovely comment, thank you Boustan. If this leads you to pay more attention to the person making your coffee, then that's a brilliant outcome!
Edit: and also to say, you are spot on about the soul of someone awakened to himself.
Fascinating, exotic and intriguing story Nathan. Just the right amount of mystery with just a hint of a strange sense of underlying, undefinable suspense. Great stuff. - Jim
Thanks, Jim. Much appreciated!
This is a quiet, mysterious little story. I loved the calm tone. It felt somehow "foreign" or "alien". You engendered a lot of speculation about who the many-named man was... or what the many-named man was. What was his mission? Why did he try to guide the barista, while at the same time learn from the barista? Why were his questions not punctuated. ( That alone is a mystery.) Just excellent, Nathan. You engaged my brain. And my old brain really needs it.
Thank you, Sharron. I appreciate your comments always. And don't worry, you're not alone, my brain needs engaging each and every day.
The making of coffee as well as the art of same seem REALLY ZEN here, I'm sure that I'm not the ONLY ONE who notices / will notice. An acquaintance of mine in San Franciso actually saw a performance of the tea ceremony & I'm sure that she would notice the steps in making coffee as well. So many Americans seem to view it as taking medicine. NO PASSION. Simply ANOTHER DAMN TASK to do.
Thanks Daniel. Love the comment. Passion is required most certainly!
acting as if a piece of chocolate is the last piece on the entire PLANET or a particular orange slice or SHRIMP OR dollop of BARBECUE, etc. 🤤😋 mindful consumption.
Something altogether more wholesome and less sinister than some of your short stories, Nathan - I love the horror, but I love this too. A modern day wizard walks into a cafe... :)
Thanks Troy! Appreciate you reading and your thoughts, as always.
I don’t think there’s a single word I didn’t love in this piece, Nathan. It’s the continuation I was hoping for: a mix of mystery and a sense of incompleteness that I adore. We’ve talked about this before, but I’ll reiterate that the universe sends us messages constantly, in different forms and ways. It’s up to us to gather and decode them. In this story, all of that comes through beautifully but without being intrusive. As a reader, you feel a bit like a butterfly on the wall of that café: silent, respectful, and discreet.
Beautifully put, my friend. Thanks so much for your continued readership and attention to detail. It really means the world. :D
The thing I love about fiction is that fantastical things can happen like people quitting their day job to become a writer. ;-) I enjoyed the story very much. As always, you create such a gravitational presence with your first-person narration I feel no separation from the character I'm reading. It's seamless.
Thanks so much Ben!
One day, perhaps, such a thing may come true. ;)
Coffee can lead anywhere!
That it can. :)
Ahh Nathan, this is a wonderful finale... I feel like it should have had a sound track - I loved the different speeds you inject here, quick-slow-quick-quick-slow... and the mysterious multi named man who must have been, a ghost from the future rather than the past? A prophet...
"I tried to catch his eye. But he was wasn't looking at me. His gaze seemed fixed on some faraway place. It was as if he wasn't in a café at all but on some beach or mountain or deep within a forest." because what else could come from that?
It good to see you flying again... now I'm wondering what's next!
Thanks so much, Susie! Love your thoughts here.
Feels good to be writing again.
Great piece, Nathan! Glad you came back to it. I really enjoyed the language and reflection in the final paragraph, the malleability of the city, commerce as a being or construct that is always digesting the profound and excreting the mundane (ie. coffee shop into apartment building). Thanks again.
Thanks, Brian. Excellent analysis and thoughts as always. :)
Nicely done, Nathan. It felt like a Borges story, and reminded me of my own Borgesian story (https://terryfreedman.substack.com/p/experiments-in-style-a-borgesian) it also made me think of Gibran, who wrote that when you make something (I am paraphrasing because it's the middle of the night here) you should do so as if your beloved is going to be the recipient.
That's a good quote, paraphrased or otherwise.
Ah yes, I remember that Experiment in Style. Excellent!
Thanks you, Nathan. Well, here is the actual quote, which is infinitely more beautiful than my flawed remembering:
THE PROPHET
...
And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
…
Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine.
And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.
Wonderful, thanks.
You're welcome.
Another enigmatic thrill Nathan. I can’t help but wonder if the man with many names is the barista’s future self, still living out infinite possibilities and presenting them, subtly, cryptically, to the young man.
And I love how the café becomes a stage for his existential and artistic musings, where every coffee order feels like it holds a small universe of meaning. Maybe meaning that points him on his path? But also, conversely, no concern for the future at all. There’s a quiet reverence in the story for craft, observation, and the art of being present, whether it’s in preparing an espresso or holding a pen for the first time in years. Something you do quite masterfully, friend.
This is a lovely and wonderful analysis/thought, Kimberly, and certainly a theme that has crept in previously for me elsewhere.
Thank you for your ever-so-amazing words. :D
Love it. Beautifully done. Thanks so much.
Thanks, Beth. 🙏