Though based on a short story by Spanish novelist Javier Marias, the ambience permeating the film feels distinctly Japanese or at least East Asian. The older-man-and-much-younger-woman dynamic feels more at home in this part of the world. I got a sense of the Japanese man-woman relationship through all this experience, though I would not honestly say that my own understanding is deep.
Their manliness is quite important. They separate their family life from their social life and the men go out drinking only with their male friends. Even though Western culture has been influential, in theory, in promoting equal rights for Japanese women, I am not sure it is true in practice.
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention CDC , having obesity increases a person's risk of a range of adverse health conditions, including high blood pressure , abnormal cholesterol levels, type 2 diabetes , heart disease , stroke , osteoarthritis, some cancers , mental health problems, and all cause mortality.
Diet and exercise are the most highly studied factors that contribute to the rising obesity epidemic. Others, such as genetics and sleep, are emerging as additional players.
Takeshi Kitano and the men who watch women sleeping | The Japan Times
A new study, which recently featured in JAMA Internal Medicine , points to another culprit: artificial light in our sleep environment. Dale P.
Yong-Moon Mark Park, a fellow working with Sandler, led the research. The study involved 43, women who took part in the Sister Study, which looked at environmental risk factors and the chances of developing breast cancer. Each participant provided details about her exposure to artificial light at night ALAN at the start of the study, allowing Park and his colleagues to divide the volunteers into four categories: no light, small night-light in the room, light outside the room, and light or television on in the room. The research team had access to data that Sister Study professionals had collected at the start of the study, which included the women's weight, height, and hip and waist circumference.
They also had the women's self-reported height and weight measurements at both the start and the follow-up, which occurred after an average of 5. When the researchers analyzed the data, they identified a correlation between increasing levels of light exposure and health outcomes at the beginning of the study. The more light a woman experienced in her sleeping environment, the higher her body mass index BMI and waist to hip ratio were, on average. On the flip side, sleep duration was shorter, and physical activity and healthful eating scores were markedly lower.
His trousers and socks still appeared to be pale blue. He was a frank fellow, not at all the reserved type, and he could say what he had said without causing offense.
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He gave another short laugh. With what you can watch over and over, ad infinitum, and even freeze? Is she perhaps an actress? I use one today, then use another one tomorrow, and then, the day after, I tape over the first one and erase it that way. Artistic videos are one thing, made in order to be filed away. They get put aside, one cassette every four months or so. The daily tapings are a separate matter.
Those get erased every other day. He had stretched out his stockinged foot and dipped his big toe into the water, moving it slowly back and forth, his leg fully extended, for he could only just reach far enough to touch the surface.
While the Women are Sleeping by Javier Marías – review
Viana pursed his lips and ran his hand over his bald head, as if he still had hair and was smoothing it, a gesture from the past. He was thinking.
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Finally, he spoke again, to answer not my last question but the previous one. Because I do like to remember things. You know that. Everyone knows that.
Everyone is going to die, and I want to preserve her image. She might have an accident, for example. Without thinking, I glanced up at the balcony from which I had observed Viana. There were no lights on anywhere. Viana was again immersed in thought, although now he had removed his foot from the water and placed it again—with the tip of the sock wet and dark—on the grass.
Yes, I suddenly wanted to go up to my room and see Luisa, asleep—not dead—wrapped in her sheet, with one shoulder perhaps uncovered. Viana was saying something, not in a whisper now, but as if muttering to himself.
Wayne Wang's Japan-set thriller marks an unsatisfying foray into sexual obsession.
I glanced again at the balconies, but they all still lay in darkness. No one had woken up. The normal thing would be for you to die before her. Viana laughed again and, stretching his leg out farther, dipped his whole stockinged foot into the water and began to move it slowly, heavily around, more heavily than before because now his whole foot—that wide, obese foot—was submerged.police-risk-management.com/order/text/dixec-come-individuare.php
Artificial light during sleep puts women at risk of obesity
Or, rather, nothing is normal as regards my relationship with her, and never has been. I adore her. You have no interest in remembering her exactly as she was, were you to lose her, or in seeing her again when it will no longer be possible to see her. I noticed this because I felt that there was something wounded and involuntary about my ensuing silence, something fearful, too, as if I suddenly no longer dared ask him anything and had no option but to listen to whatever he chose to tell me.
It was as if that abrupt, indelicate remark had entirely taken over the conversation. And I realized that my fear came also from his use of the past tense. I was feeling rather angry. However, after a few seconds Viana continued talking, and by then it was too late not to continue to listen. To know that, you have to be a part of it, if you know what I mean. Not to disrupt the order of our dying—that would be impossible—but to be a part of it.
Soon, it will become unbearable—it already is. And because, one day, it will all become unbearable to me, she will have to die before me, when I can no longer stand my adoration of her. Having said that, Viana lifted his dripping foot out of the water and rested it and its sodden silk sock carefully and distastefully on the grass. Viana did as I suggested and removed the drenched sock, mechanically, indifferently.
For a few seconds, he held it, again distastefully, between two fingers, and then he draped it over the back of his chair, where it began to drip, with the smell of wet cloth. Now he had one bare foot and the other still covered by a pale-blue sock and a rabidly red moccasin. The bare foot was wet, and the covered foot very dry.
Are you crazy? She adored me, too, but in a different way, of course. I know all the jingles by heart. As for reading matter, well, you can imagine. First I read comic books, then adventure books, a few romantic novels, the Spanish literature she was studying at school, as well as the Catalan, Manelic and the wolf, and all that.
I still read whatever she happens to be reading, American writers, mainly—there are hundreds of them. You may also have noticed me riding a motorcycle. You said that you and your wife are about the same age, so your fields of reference must be very similar. And the worst thing would be having to explain everything, every reference, every allusion, every joke about your own past or your own era.
Best not to bother. Viana paused for a moment, very briefly. Our eyes were accustomed now to the darkness and to the light from the water.