May 3, 1992 |
IT IS MORNING RUSH HOUR IN THE LABYRINTHINE CENTRAL concourse of Tokyo Station. Hordes of men and women are hustling--some of them sprinting--to color-coded, numbered stairways, racing to make transfers on the jampacked rail lines that fan out across this megalopolis. They jostle and bump, enrapt in the rhythm of their deployment to offices, shops and factories. Conjure up Grand Central Station to the fifth magnitude but with none of the distemper of the New Yorker.