May 30, 2021

The Garden by Ezra Pound (United States, 1916)

The Garden

Ezra Pound


                                                                                    En robe de parade.  
                                                                                    Samain.

Like a skein of loose silk blown against a wall
She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,
And she is dying piece-meal
⁠of a sort of emotional anæmia.

And round about there is a rabble
Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.
They shall inherit the earth.

In her is the end of breeding.
Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.
She would like someone to speak to her,
And is almost afraid that I
⁠will commit that indiscretion.

Ezra Weston Loomis Pound (1885-1972) was an American poet, critic, translator and publisher. He was one of the most important figures of the Modernist movement in the first half of the 20th century, and he exerted a large influence on writers active in that period.

From 1908 Pound made Europe his permanent home. After working briefly as a guide in Gibraltar and publishing a book in Venice, he went to live in London, where he worked as the London correspondent for Poetry Magazine and was among the first to review the work of Robert Frost and D.H. Lawrence. In 1924 he moved to Italy. Pound became a controversial figure because of his support of Mussolini in the 1930s and during the war years. This is cited as the reason why he never won the Nobel Prize in Literature.

Pound is well-known for his interest in Japanese and Chinese literature and culture. Cathay (1915) is a collection of classical Chinese poetry translated into modernist English poetry based on Ernest Fenollosa's notes that came into Pound's possession in 1913. Until Pound's time, English translations were made on rhyme, which forced the translators to divert much further than Pound did from the Chinese originals; after Pound, renderings in blank or free verse became the norm (and still are). Of course, there is a good reason why Imagist poets reworked Chinese and Japanese poetry: East Asian lyrical poetry is based on images and not on rhetoric or reasoning as is so much of Western poetry. Everyone knows Pound's Imagist haiku "In a Station of the Metro": The apparition of these faces in the crowd: Petals on a wet, black bough.

"The Garden" was written during WWI, a convulsion which would completely change Europe. It formed in every sense the true end of the 19th c. and brought immense social change - and that is what Pound ironically addresses in this poem. Kensington Gardens is the western extension of Hyde Park in the fashionable neighborhood of Kensington. Pound contrasts a wealthy and emotionally blocked woman from the dying upper-class, with the filthy but strong and vigorous children of the poor she sees playing in the park. He concludes that these children will own the future, not the bored upper-class which has ruled so far but which is bound by antiquated customs. The social change of the early 20th c. is made tangible in just 12 lines of poetry!


Source: From Lustra, 1916. Wikisource, Public Domain.

Photos:
Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Lyric Poetry Around the World Index

May 29, 2021

The Taxi by Amy Lowell (1914, United States)

The Taxi

Amy Lowell


When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?



[Amy Lowell, c. 1916]


The American poet and critic Amy Lawrence Lowell (1874-1925) was one of the leading figures in the Imagist movement. Lowell was born into a prominent Boston family. She was the sister of the later astronomer Percival Lowell and of Abott-Lawrence Lowell, who became rector of Harvard University. She herself did not follow a university education (as that was not deemed proper for women at the time), but read a lot, to the point of obsessiveness. She traveled widely, also for a long time through Europe. In 1910 she published her first poems and in 1912 her first collection: A Dome of Many-Colored Glass. Sword Blades and Poppy Seed (1914) was her second book of poems.

Together with her life partner, former actress Ada Dwyer Russell, she traveled to England in 1912 and became friends with Ezra Pound. She joined his Imagist movement, which she also supported financially. While her first collection was still fairly traditional, her later poetry would be more modernist in character under the influence of Pound.

The Imagists rejected the sentiment and discursiveness typical of much Romantic and Victorian poetry. They emphasized the use of precise, sharp images as a means of poetic expression, and strove for precision in their choice of words. The poet was given the freedom in the choice of subject and form and should preferably use colloquial language. Most of the Imagist poets wrote in free verse, using stylistic tools such as assonance and alliteration rather than formal metric schemes to structure their poetry.

As well as being a poet, Lowell was also known as an imposing, self-confident personality and as an advocate for women's rights. She was constantly overweight and smoked big cigars. In 1925 she died of a heart attack, aged 51. In 1926 she was posthumously awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry.

Interestingly, like Ezra Pound, Amy Lowell was deeply interested in Chinese and Japanese culture, and she wrote many paraphrases of poems from those countries, for example in Pictures of the Floating World (1919) and in Fir-Flower Tablets (1921).


[Ada Dwyer Russell]

The poem cited above is one of the love poems Lowell addressed to Ada Dwyer Russell. Others include "Absence", "A Lady In a Garden", and "Madonna of the Evening Flowers." Lowell's poems about Russell have been called the most elegant lesbian love poetry written since Sappho (see "Equal to the Gods").


Cited from Sword Blades and Poppy Seed by Amy Lowell (1914), at Gutenberg.org. This book is in the public domain.

Photos:
Amy Lowell: Houghton Library, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Ada Dwyer Russell: Unknown author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons


May 27, 2021

Advice to the Good Traveler from Steles by Victor Segalen (1912-1914)

Advice to the Good Traveler

Victor Segalen

translation Ad Blankestijn


Town at the end of the road and road extending the town: therefore do not choose one or the other, but take one and the other by turns.

Mountain encircling your gaze confines
and contains what the round plain sets free. Love to jump rocks and steps; but caress the flagstones where the foot falls flat.

Rest from sound in silence,
and, from silence, deign to return to sound. Alone if you can, if you know how to be alone, sometimes pour yourself into the crowd.

Be careful not to choose a refuge. Do not believe in the virtue of a lasting virtue: break it with some strong spice that burns
and bites and even gives a taste to blandness.

Thus, without stopping or stumbling, without halter
and without stable, without rewards or punishments, you will arrive, no not, friend, at the swamp of immortal joys,

But at the intoxicating eddies of the great River of Diversity.




Conseils au bon voyageur

Ville au bout de la route et route prolongeant la ville : ne choisis donc pas l'une ou l'autre, mais l'une et l'autre bien alternées.

Montagne encerclant ton regard le rabat et le contient que la : plaine ronde libère. Aime à sauter roches et marches ; mais caresse les dalles où le pied pose bien à plat.

Repose-toi du son dans le silence, et, du silence, daigne revenir au son. Seul si tu peux, si tu sais être seul, déverse-toi parfois jusqu'à la foule.

Garde bien d'élire un asile. Ne crois pas à la, vertu d’une vertu durable : romps-la de quelque forte épice qui brûle et morde et donne un goût même à la fadeur.

Ainsi, sans arrêt ni faux pas, sans licol et sans étable, sans mérites ni peines, tu parviendras, non point, ami, au marais des joies immortelles,

Mais aux remous pleins d'ivresses du grand fleuve Diversité.



[Victor Segalen]

Victor Segalen (1878-1919) was a French writer, physician, archaeologist and ethnologist. Segalen was born in Brest and studied medicine in Bordeaux. He became a naval physician and traveled to Polynesia (1903-1905) and China (1909-14 and 1917). He conducted archaeological research during his travels through China. During the First World War he served as a doctor in France at the front until he became seriously ill. He suffered from increasing depression during the last years of his life, something connected to his use of opium. He died during a lonely walk in the woods of Huelgoat, not far from his Breton birthplace. It has never been determined whether his death was an accident or suicide. Shakespeare's Hamlet was found open next to his body.


[Steles in China, photographed by Segalen]

In 1912, Segalen published in Beijing the collection Stèles, a series of prose poems, inspired by his contact with Chinese civilization. Steles (in Chinese shibei, in Japanese sekihi) are stone plaques, mounted on a plinth, raised towards the sky and bearing an inscription. They can be grave memorials (steles often stood near graves of important people), texts honoring individuals or events, historical inscriptions, or poems. They did not have any practical function (such as pointing the way). In the late second century, also the Chinese Classics were inscribed on steles to keep them unchanged for posterity, and Confucian temples often had a courtyard completely filled with steles ("a forest of steles"). 

Segalen was a unique writer because he left exoticism and Orientalism far behind him - his work fits a new postcolonial interpretation. Segalen was truly interested in Chinese civilization. However, his Steles are not translations of Chinese texts - rather, they are new French texts that have been inspired by ancient Chinese prose. The style Segalen uses imitates Chinese inscriptions, but the contents belong to Segalen and his personal life and thought. Steles is truly an original work.

The poem translated above end on an important theme for Segalen: that of the transformative power of diversity.

Besides Steles, Segalen's work includes an novel set in China (Rene Leys, 1922), and the important Essay on Exoticism: An Aesthetics of Diversity.

P.S. The life and work of the Dutch poet J. Slauerhoff was in many ways comparable to that of Segalen.


Full original text of Steles at French Wikisource (as the author died in 1919, Steles is in the public domain)

A full English translation is available as Stèles (Wesleyan Poetry Series, 2007) translated and annotated by Timothy Billings & Christopher Bush.

Segalen's novel Simon Leys has been translated by J.A. Underwood in New York Review Books (preface by Ian Buruma).


Photos public domain from Wikipedia.

 

Lyric Poetry Around the World Index


May 26, 2021

The Suicide by Piet Paaltjens (The Netherlands, 1867)

The Suicide

Piet Paaltjens (The Netherlands, 1867)

Translation by Ad Blankestijn



In the depths of the woods
     - 't was in autumn and cold -
A gentleman wandered alone.
     Oh, his eye looked so dim!
     And his suit was so foul!
And like a millstone his teeth kept grinding.

     "Harriot!" so cried he quite mad,
     "A viper I've hatched,
No, worse, a dragon I've hugged at my bosom! "
     And he hit at his coat,
     And stepped in a puddle;
Splashing in the mud which nearly stained his collar.

     And forthwith his gaze sought
     a branch in an oak,
Enough strong to carry his weight.
     Then he took a noose
     Out of his pouch, and stuck his neck into it.
Soon he couldn't splash anymore.

     The forest fell still
     And ten times as cold,
Because wintertime came. And meanwhile
     Always hung on his branch,
     Quite at ease,
That gentleman, shocking the sparrows.

     And winter went
     Because spring appeared,
To give way to summer again.
     Then came strolling - 't was hot -
     A lover's pair armed
Through the wood. Would they be stunned!

     Because, while they, softly
     hugging, came walking along with the thought:
"Under that oak is a good spot to kiss",
     Came a boot from the man,
     Who was hanging up there,
Flying off his rotten left leg.

     "My goodness! From where
     Came that boot? ” cried the pair,
Looking up to see what was up there.
     And they saw to their shock
     That man, once so fat,
Now gnawed to a skeleton bare.

     On his graying head
     His hat still stood tall,
But the border was gone. And his linen
     Was frayed and gray.
     Through a hole in his sleeve
Spiders, ants, even worms looked out.

     His watch had stopped,
     and one glass from his glasses
Was broken, the other fogged up.
     On the edge of a pocket
    of his vest sat a snail,
A slimy snail silently gnawing.

     In an instant the urge
to make love disappeared
With the pair. Not a word dared they speak.
     From fright they turned as white
     as a sheet, for a day long
bleached on the lawn.

 

 
In het diepst van het woud
     - 't Was al herfst en erg koud -
Liep een heer in zijn eentje te dwalen.
     Och, zijn oog zag zoo dof!
     En zijn goed zat zoo slof!
En hij tandknerste, als was hij aan 't malen.

     "Harriot!" dus riep hij verwoed,
     "'k Heb een adder gebroed,
Neen, erger, een draak aan mijn borst hier!"
     En hij sloeg op zijn jas,
     En hij trapte in een plas;
't Spattend slik had zijn boordjes bemorst schier.

     En meteen zocht zijn blik
     Naar een eiketak, dik
Genoeg om zijn lichaam te torschen.
     Daarna haalde hij een strop
     Uit zijn zak, hing zich op,
En toen kon hij zich niet meer bemorsen.

     Het werd stil in het woud
     En wel tienmaal zo koud,
Want de wintertijd kwam. En intusschen
     Hing maar steeds aan zijn tak,
     Op zijn doode gemak,
Die mijnheer, tot verbazing der musschen.

     En de winter vlood heen,
     Want de lente verscheen,
Om opnieuw voor den zomer te wijken.
     Toen dan zwierf - 't was erg warm -
     Er een paar arm in arm
Door het woud. Maar wat stond dát te kijken!

     Want, terwijl het, zoo zacht
     Koozend, voortliep en dacht:
Hier onder deez' eik is 't goed vrijen,
     Kwam een laars van den man,
     Die daar boven hing, van
Zijn reeds lang verteerd linkerbeen glijen.

     "Al mijn leven! van waar
     Komt die laars?" riep het paar,
En werktuigelijk keek het naar boven.
     En daar zag het met schrik
     Dien mijnheer, eens zo dik
En nu tot een geraamte afgekloven.

     Op zijn grijzende kop
     Stond zijn hoed nog rechtop,
Maar de rand was er af. Al zijn linnen
     Was gerafeld en grauw.
     Door een gat in zijn mouw
Blikten mieren en wurmen en spinnen.

     Zijn horloge stond stil,
     En één glas van zijn bril
Was kapot en het ander beslagen.
     Op den rand van een zak
     Van zijn vest zat een slak,
Een erg slijmrige slak, stil te knagen.

     In een wip was de lust
     Om te vrijen gebluscht
Bij het paar. Zelfs geen woord dorst het te spreken.
     't Zag van schrik zóó spierwit
     Als een laken, wen dit
Reeds een dag op het gras ligt te bleeken.



"Piet Paaltjens" (a funny name in Dutch) is the pen name under which François Haverschmidt (1835-1894) wrote his "light verse." In daily life he was a Dutch minister, having studied Calvinist theology at Leiden University, and by using this pseudonym, he kept his serious prose works and sermons separate from his frivolous poetry. In Dutch literature, the 19th c. was the century of the "minister-poets", who are now of course unreadable, but the only exception is Haverschmidt exactly because he didn't write serious verse. His poetry has been written in the light, humorous verse tradition of student magazines (where he indeed debuted). 
 
Especially the above poem is rather cruel and sardonic. Unfortunately, Haverschmidt himself was plagued by depressions and in 1894, a few years after the death of his wife, he ultimately committed suicide. What seems funny to us, may have been inspired by pure despair...

"The Suicide" was published in the collection "Snikken en grimlachjes", in the public domain and available at the website of DBNL (in Dutch).

Snikken en grimlachjes at Project Laurens Jz Coster.

Dutch website about Piet Paaltjens


Lyric Poetry Around the World Index

 

 
 

May 25, 2021

Sickbed Snowfall by Masaoka Shiki (Japanese Poetry)

Shiki: Sickbed Snowfall

Four haiku

translated by Ad Blankestijn



it is snowing!
I see it through a hole
in the paper door

yuki furu yo | shoji no ana o | mite areba

雪ふるよ障子の穴を見てあれば



again and again
I ask how deep
the snow has gotten

ikutabi mo | yuki no fukasa o | tazunekeri

いくたびも雪の深さを訊ねけり



all I can think of
is that I am lying
in a house in the snow

yuki no ie ni | nete iru to omou | bakari nite

雪の家に寢て居ると思ふばかりにて



open the paper doors
let me take a look at
the snow of Ueno

shoji akeyo | Ueno no yuki o | hitome min

障子明けよ上野の雪を一目見ん



[Shiki, by Nakamura Fusetsu]

Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902) in his short life single-handedly brought the genres of haiku and tanka into modern age. He wrote 20,000 haiku and is regarded is one of the Great Four, together with Basho, Buson and Issa. Shiki was born in Matsuyama, but later moved to Tokyo. Shiki turned haiku into a legitimate literary genre and argued that haiku should be judged by the same yardstick that is used when measuring the value of other forms of literature — something that was contrary to views held by prior haiku practitioners. His particular style rejected "the puns or fantasies often relied on by the old school" in favor of "realistic observation of nature". Like other Meiji period writers, Shiki was influenced by the dedication to realism in Western literature.

Shiki's achievements are all the more remarkable considering that he suffered from tuberculosis much of his life. In 1888 / 1889 he began coughing up blood and soon adopted the pen-name "Shiki" from the Japanese "hototogisu", the lesser cuckoo, as it was thought that this bird coughs blood as it sings. Shiki's early tuberculosis worsened after he went to China as a war correspondent in 1895. He continued to cough blood throughout his return voyage to Japan and was hospitalized in Kobe (read the haiku he wrote while recovering in Suma).


[Shiki, self-portrait]


After being discharged, he returned to his home town Matsuyama and convalesced in the home of the famed novelist Natsume Soseki. During this time he took on disciples and promulgated a style of haiku that emphasized gaining inspiration from personal experiences of nature. In 1897 a member of his group established a haiku magazine which was called Hototogisu after Shiki's pen name - a magazine which today still is going strong.

In Tokyo Shiki worked as haiku editor for the newspaper Nippon. Bedridden by 1897, Shiki's disease worsened further around 1901. He developed Pott's disease and began using morphine as a painkiller. During this time Shiki wrote diaries and other autobiographical works, as Bokuju itteki, "A drop of ink," and Byosho rokushaku, "The 6 foot long sickbed." He died of tuberculosis in 1902 at age 34.

Snow was something special for Shiki as in his native Matsuyama it rarely snowed, so he is as excited as a child about the white world he can see from his sickbed.


Translations and studies:
Masaoka Shiki, Selected Poems, by Burton Watson (Columbia U.P.);
The Winter Sun Shines in: A Life of Masaoka Shiki, by Donald Keene (Columbia U.P.);
Masaoka Shiki: His Life and Works, by Janine Beichman (Kodansha International);
Masaoka, Shiki, Songs from a Bamboo Village: Selected Tanka from Take no Sato Uta, translated by Sanford Goldstein and Seishi Shinoda, Tuttle, 1998
If Someone Asks..., Masaoka Shiki's Life and Haiku, Matsuyama Municipal Shiki-Kinen Museum.

e-texts of Shiki's works (Japanese) at Aozora bunko

In Matsuyama is an interesting Shiki Memorial Museum,


Photos: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons


Japanese Poetry Index

May 24, 2021

'Round my Old Dwelling Poplars Stand by J.H. Leopold (The Netherlands, 1897)

'Round my old dwelling poplars stand

J.H. Leopold (The Netherlands, 1897)

translation: Ad Blankestijn


Around my old dwelling poplars stand,
"My love, my love, where have you gone"
a narrow lane
of soggy leaves, the fall is coming.

It's raining, raining as if you hear
"My love, my love, where have you gone"
and on and on
without a break, the wind becomes mute.

The house is empty and full of gloom
"My love, my love, where have you gone"
a whisper sounds
up in the attic, under the rafters.

There lives a man bent deeply low
"My love, my love, where have you gone"
with hollow eyes
who cannot find peace and rest.


Om mijn oud woonhuis peppels staan
‘mijn lief, mijn lief, o waar gebleven’
een smalle laan
van natte blaren, het vallen komt.

Het regent, regent eender te hooren
‘mijn lief, mijn lief, o waar gebleven’
en altijd door en
den treuren uit, de wind verstomt.

Het huis is hol en vol duisternis
‘mijn lief, mijn lief, o waar gebleven’
gefluister is
boven op zolder, het dakgebint.

Er woont er een voorovergebogen
‘mijn lief, mijn lief, o waar gebleven’
met leege oogen
en die zijn vrede en rust niet vindt.


[J.H. Leopold]

Jan Hendrik Leopold (1865–1925) was a Dutch poet and classicist. Leopold was born at 's-Hertogenbosch. In early 1892, he moved to Rotterdam, where he became a teacher of classical languages at the Erasmian High School. The same year he received his doctorate in Leiden. He was friends with his student Ida Gerhardt, who as a poetess and teacher of classical languages followed in his footsteps.

Leopold's oeuvre is not very large and according to some rather hermetic in character. One of his most famous works is the poem "Cheops", which is also one of the most famous works of modern Dutch book printing. Leopold was also a translator of works by Sophocles. He translated portions of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam into Dutch.

I especially like the above poem, because it strikes me as a sort of 'ghost  story.' Leopold seems to be conjuring up a house with an apparition for us here - although I don't know if that is an officially recognized interpretation. Yet, especially in the second half of the poem, the ghost story elements seem clear enough: the whispers in the attic, the (cracking of) the roof trusses (rafters) and above all: the 'hollow eyes' and the announcement that the person who lives here can not find peace and rest. Do we have the tragic situation of a wandering ghost here? Is the situation of the poem that someone has entered his old (or former) home, and that he thinks he hears the words "My love, my love, where have you gone?" Or perhaps he speaks them in his own mind?

The quotation marks seem to indicate that the "I" implied in the first line hears a voice, either as a result of talking to itself, or as a manifestation of an inward "other". In the second couplet, it is the murmur of the rain in which he hears what controls his thoughts. In the third couplet the whispering in the attic may be caused by "another" presence - a ghost?

All in all, both possibilities remain open: either there is a second - shadowy - character present in the poem, or this second character is an aspect of the grief-torn interior of the poet. The second character haunts the spirit of the first (the poet), as the first visits the old dwelling of both of them.  One could almost say: the dead seeks the living, the living "haunts" the dead. 
 
By the way, one could also think of the ghost of Catherine Earnshaw at the beginning of Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. (The above thoughts about the poem were inspired by Wiel Kusters, "Aantekeningen over Leopold" in De Gids (https://www.dbnl.org/tekst/_gid001198201_01/_gid001198201_01_0064.php).
 
Another situational reading which is purely my own is that the poet/narrator has killed his beloved and now - full of guilt and remorse - returns to their former dwelling where the murder has taken place - only to be greeted by her ghost...
 
Besides the above poem, the following short one by Leopold is also famous in the Netherlands:
 
Oh, when dead, when dead I will be
then come and whisper, whisper something sweet
my pale eyes I will lift
and I will not be surprised.

And I will not be surprised;
in this love, death will be
only a sleeping, sleeping assured
a waiting for you, a waiting.


O, als ik dood zal, dood zal zijn
kom dan en fluister, fluister iets liefs
mijn bleeke oogen zal ik opslaan
en ik zal niet verwonderd zijn.

En ik zal niet verwonderd zijn;
in deze liefde zal de dood
alleen een slapen, slapen gerust
een wachten op u, een wachten zijn.

 
Perhaps we are allowed to connect this to the first poem?

Photos:
Leopold: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

 

Lyric Poetry Around the World Index



May 23, 2021

Yosano Akiko, Ten Poems from Tangled Hair (Japanese Poetry)

Ten Tanka from "Tangled Hair"

Yosano Akiko

translated by Ad Blankestijn


(1)
that girl, now twenty,
her black hair
flowing through her comb,
takes pride in the beauty
of her springtime

sono ko hatachi | kushini nagaruru | kurokami no | ogori no haru no | utsukushiki kana

その子二十 | 櫛にながるる | 黒髪の | おごりの春の | うつくしきかな


(2)

fresh from my hot bath
I dress before
the tall mirror
smiling at my own body
as I do every day of my life

yuagari no | mijimai narite | sugatami ni | emishi kino no | naki ni shi mo arazu

ゆあがりの | みじまひなりて | 姿見に| 笑みし昨日の | 無きにしもあらず


(3)
pressing my breasts
I softly kick open
the Gate of Mystery
how deep the crimson
of the flower here

chibusa osae | shinpi no tobari | sotokerinu | kokonaru hana no | benizo koki

乳ぶさおさへ | 神秘のとばり | そとけりぬ | ここなる花の | 紅ぞ濃き


(4)
this hot tide of blood
beneath soft skin
you have yet to touch -
are you not lonely,
you who preach the Way?

yawahada no | atsuki chishio ni | furemomide | sabishikarazuya | michiwo toku kimi

やは肌の | あつき血汐に | ふれも見で | さびしからずや | 道を説く君


(5)
spring is short,
nothing has eternal life -
with these words
I made his hands seek out
my strong breasts

haru mijikashi | nani ni fumetsu no | inochi zoto | chikaraaru chichi wo | te ni sagurasenu

春みじかし | 何に不滅の | 命ぞと | ちからある乳を | 手にさぐらせぬ



(6)
the clear water of love
flowing from my breast
has finally become muddy
you a sinner
I a sinner

mune no shimizu | afurete tsui ni |  nigorikeri | kimi mo tsumi no ko | ware mo tsumi no ko

むねの清水 | あふれてつひに | 濁りけり | 君も罪の子 | 我も罪の子



(7)
after my bath
at the hot spring
they feel rough
to my soft skin
these clothes of the human world

yuami shite | izumi wo ideshi | yawahada ni | fururu wa tsuraki | hito no yo no kinu

ゆあみして | 泉を出でし | やははだに | ふるるはつらき | 人の世のきぬ


(8)
a thousand lines of hair
of black hair
of tangled hair
the more I love
the more my love gets tangled

kurokami no | sen suji no kami no | midaregami | katsu omoimidare | omoimidaruru

くろ髪の | 千すじの髪の | みだれ髪 | かつおもひみだれ | おもひみだるる


(9)
hair tangled by my late rising -
shall I smooth it
with spring rain
dripping from the wings
of swallows?

tsubakura no | hane ni shitataru | harusame wo | ukete nademu ka | waga asanegami

つばくらの | 羽にしたたる | 春雨を | うけて なでむか | わが朝寝髪


(10)
strolling past Gion
on the way to Kiyomizu:
cherry blossoms in moonlight -
every person I meet tonight
is beautiful to gaze on

Kiyomizu e | Gion wo yogiru | sakurazukiyo | koyoi au hito | mina utsukushiki

清水へ | 祇園をよぎる | 桜月夜 | こよひ逢ふ人 | みなうつくしき




[Yosano Akiko]

Japanese poet Yosano Akiko (1878-1942) was born into a prosperous family and grew up in a house full of books. During her education at Sakai Girls' High School (south of Osaka) she broadened her knowledge of Japanese literature and added European literature and poetry to it.

In September 1895, Yosano Akiko published her first poem, a tanka, in Bungei Kurabu (Literary Club), a Tokyo magazine. In August 1900, this publication led to a meeting with the famous poet Yosano Tekkan (1873-1935), the leader of the Romantic movement in Japanese poetry. Although he was a married man, his marriage was about to break up and soon love was born between him and the young poet. In June 1901, Akiko started to live with him in Tokyo, after which they married in September of the same year.

From then on Akiko published her work in Myojo (Morning Star), her husband's well-known monthly poetry magazine. She also took over part of the editorial tasks.

Her first collection of poems, Midaregami (Tangled Hair), containing some 400 poems, was published in 1901. This bundle is a swirling expression of uninhibited sensuality; a daring project for a man at the time, let alone a young woman!
Midaregami (Tangled Hairs), was a hymn of praise to the love and early, fierce emotions of youth. The descriptions in the poems were, certainly at that time, experienced as very erotic. They caused a storm of protest and a veritable scandal because of their unbridled expression of female sexuality. This ran counter to the Confucianism of the Meiji period which tried to suppress and hide sexuality. The book was not well received by the critics (who complained it was "as if a precocious girl speaks unashamedly about adult matters"), but the public thought differently and the unabashed expressions became the strength of Midaregami as well as the basis for the immense success of the collection.

The work stood at the beginning of a rich legacy: more than 20 collections of poetry and several acclaimed translations from classical Japanese, including a widely used translation into modern Japanese of the Genji Monogatari (The Tale of Genji).

Yosano Akiko is particularly credited for her contributions to Japan's first feminist creative writing magazine, Seito (Blue Stocking). She became a strong advocate for women's education but despite her commitment and feminist vision, she never became a radical political activist.

In 1911 the Yosanos went on a study trip to France. In Western Europe, numerous encounters with well-known writers and artists followed, which opened their eyes. Akiko in particular returned with a changed view of the social problems during the Taisho period in Japan, especially with regard to the position of women.

In 1921 she became dean and professor at Bunka Gakuin (Cultural Institute), a free co-educational school which she founded with her husband.

Just as Yosano Akiko's popularity took off, her husband's star began to wane. Thanks to the sale of her books, they were able to make both ends meet - even though Akiko became the mother of eleven children.


[Yosano Akiko]


Other translations and studies:
Beichman, Janine. Embracing the Firebird: Yosano Akiko and the Birth of the Female Voice in Modern Japanese Poetry. Honolulu (Hawaï), University of Hawai'i Press, 2002.
Yosano, Akiko. Tangled Hair: Selected Tanka from 'Midaregami' by Akiko Yosano. Goldstein, Sanford en Shinoda, Seishi (vert.). Boston, Cheng & Tsui Company. 2002.
Tsuchiya Dollase, Hiromi (Fall 2005). "Awakening Female Sexuality in Yosano Akiko's Midaregami". Simply Haiku.
Emmerich, Michael (13 August 2013). The Tale of Genji: Translation, Canonization, and World Literature. Columbia University Press.
Rowley, G.G. (2000). Yosano Akiko and The Tale of Genji (Michigan U.P.).

Photos: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons


Japanese Poetry Index

May 19, 2021

Ryokan, Eleven Poems

Ryokan: Eleven Poems

translation Ad Blankestijn


(1)
it's not that
I never fraternize
with the world -
but I'm better at
playing by myself

yo no naka ni
majiranu to niwa
arenedomo
hitori-asobi zo
ware wa masareru

世の中に
まじらぬとには
あらねども
ひとり遊びぞ
我はまされる


(2)
in the village
I bounce a temari ball
with the children -
let this spring day
not turn to dusk!

kono sato ni
temari tsukitsutsu
kodomora to
asobu haruhi wa
kurezu tomo yoshi


この里に
手鞠つきつつ
子どもらと
遊ぶ春日は
暮れずともよし


(3)
wait for the
light of the moon
before you head home:
on the mountain trail
chestnut shells are scattered

tsukuyomi no
hikari wo machite
kaerimase
yamaji wa kuri no
iga no otsureba

月よみの
光を待ちて
帰りませ
山路は栗の
毬のおつれば


(4)
without telling
the tainted world:
"be clean"
the water of the mountain stream
is pure on its own

nigoru yo o
sumetomo yowazu
waga narini
sumashite misuru
tanogawa no mizu


濁る世を
澄めともいはず
わがなりに
澄まして見する
谷川の水


(5)
in my begging bowl
violets and dandelions
are mixed together
I wish to offer them
to the Buddhas of the Three Worlds

hachinoko ni
sumire tanpopo
kokimazete
Miyo no Hotoke ni
tatematsuritena

鉢の子に
菫たんぽぽ
こきまぜて
三世の仏に
たてまつりてむ


(6)
I forgot
and left my begging bowl
but no one took it
no one took it
my pitiable begging bowl

hachinoko o
waga wasururedomo
toru hito wa nashi
toru hito wa nashi
hachinoko aware


鉢の子を
わが忘るれども
取る人はなし
取る人はなし
鉢の子あはれ


(7)
left behind
by the thief:
the moon in my window

nusubito ni
torinokosareshi
mado no tsuki


盗人に
とり残されし
窓の月


(8)
in the village
flute and drum
are sounding
here on the hill
only the rustling of pine trees

satobe ni wa
fue ya tsuzumi no
oto sunari
miyama wa matsu no
koe bakari shite


里べには
笛や鼓の
音すなり
み山は松の
声ばかりして


(9)
with a hand towel
I hide my old face
the Bon dance

tenugui de
toshi wo kakusu ya
Bon-odori

手ぬぐいで
年をかくすや
盆踊


(10)
showing its back side
showing its front side
a falling maple leaf

ura wo mise | omote wo misete | chiru momiji

うらをみせ
おもてを見せて
ちるもみじ

 
(11)
I would like to leave
something as a memento:
flowers in spring
cuckoos in summer
tinted leaves in fall

katami tote
nanika nokosan
haru wa hana
natsu hototogisu
aki wa momijiba


形見とて
何か残さむ
春の花
夏ほととぎす
秋は紅葉ば



[Statue of Ryokan in his birthplace Izumosaki]


Ryokan (1758-1831) was a Soto Zen priest who never headed a temple but choose to live alone in a tiny mountain hut, begging his food, and playing games with the village children. But Ryokan who was also a writer of unusual and highly personal poetry in Japanese (tanka, haiku) and Chinese (kanshi), and a master calligrapher.

His poems mainly record his daily activities - begging expeditions to town, chores like carrying his firewood, lonely snowbound winters (he lived in Niigata's snow country!), and meetings with friends. They also demonstrate the rich spiritual and intellectual life Ryokan enjoyed despite his poverty.

Ryokan was born as Yamamoto Eizo in the village of Izumozaki in Echigo Province (now Niigata Prefecture) to the village headman. He renounced the world at an early age to train at a nearby Soto Zen temple, where he met the visiting Zen master Kokusen of Entsuji in Tamashima (now Okayama Prefecture), and he was accepted as the master's disciple. After a stay of twelve years at Entsuji, Ryokan attained satori and was presented with an Inka by Kokusen. After Kokusen died the following year, Ryokan left Entsuji on a five-year long pilgrimage before settling as a hermit on Mount Kugami, north of his hometown of Izumozaki. He lived in a hut (Gogoan, or "Five Scoop Hut") that belonged to the Shingon temple Kokujoji.

For a living he was dependent on friends and begging. His life was very hard, especially in the snowy winter, and there was always a risk of starvation. Around 1826 health problems forced him to give up the hermit life and move to a house on the estate of a wealthy friend and sponsor in Shimazaki. There he met Teishin, who became his student. She was 40 years younger than Ryokan, but when they met it was an instant heartfelt meeting (like that of Ikkyu and Mori). She stayed with him until his death in 1831. Teishin recorded that Ryokan, seated in meditation posture, died "just as if he were falling asleep."

Just as was the case with Japan's other two great Buddhist poets, Saigyo and Ikkyu, Ryokan's life soon becam the stuff of legend. Many stories were told about him - his eccentric character, his friendliness, his humility - and Ryokan became enormously popular - something which lasts to this day. His nickname was Taigu, which means "Great Fool". He loved the simple life in nature, surrounded by plants and animals, and did not even like to harm a louse. A special love for moonlight and pine trees is expressed in his poems. It was atypical for a monk that he liked to take part in village festivals of the farmers and also drank sake. He is said to have sneaked into these festivals disguised as a woman (see poem 9). He loved playing with children so much that he often forgot about his begging round. But these are so many stories - Ryokan was above all a great poet in the East Asian tradition of the hermit poets and Zen eccentrics, capturing the pathos and beauty of human life in a way that still makes his poetry relevant.

Ryokan's tomb is located in Shimazaki, and his hermitage still stands on Mount Kugami. It is now a popular tourist destination. In his birthplace, Izumosaki, we find a Ryokan museum, and Entsuji temple, where he obtained enlightenment, has honored the poet by a statue.



[Ryokan's portrait on whch Poem 1 has been inscribed]


Notes:
Poem 1. One of Ryokan's most famous tanka, written by him on a self-portrait that shows him wearing a priest's hood and reading by a lantern. "Playing by myself" is a humorous expression for the activities he undertook alone in his hut: reading and writing Japanese and Chinese poetry and doing calligraphy.

Poem 2. In a head-note, Ryokan wrote "Early in spring I went to a place called Jizo Hall" - a temple that was located close to Ryokan's hut on Mt Kugami. A temari ball is made out of cloth bound together with various colored threads. They are still sold in stores where traditional toys and souvenirs are available. In the past, children used to bounce the ball while singing songs. The competition consisted in how long one could continue bouncing the ball without loosing it. Ryokan loved temari balls and his partner late in life, Teishin, also used to make them for him. In the poem, it is finally spring with its longer daytime light (short winter days last for a long time in Niigata!), so Ryokan is happy that he has more time to play the temari game.

Poem 3. Another popular poem in Japan, which shows Ryokan's concern for his friend Abe Sadayoshi. Abe was a wealthy sake maker and headman of the village of Bunsui, not far from Ryokan's hur on Mt Kugami. Abe is visiting Ryokan in his hermitage and they are having a good time so Ryokan wants his friend to stay as long as possible - so he uses an excuse to keep his friend longer: as long as the moon is not yet out, the path is dark, and Abe my step on the sharp chestnut shells, which have fallen on the path and might hurt his sandaled feet.

Poem 4. This is also a very famous poem, a sort of Zen sermon "which is a no-sermon." It has the head-note "On Gogoan." Ryokan believed that sermons were superfluous as nature showed the way to mankind. A mountain stream of course contains the best natural water, clear and fresh. Nature doen not teach sermons, but, by being itself, demonstrates to human beings how to act. At the same time, the clear mountain stream is a symbol for Ryokan himself.

Poem 5. The Buddhas of the Three Worlds are the Buddhas of the past, the present and the future. Ryokan loved spring flowers, especially violets and dandelions, so his offering is a precious one.

Poem 6. Another well-known poem. Ryokan had been busy picking violets (previous poem), and not caring much about possessions, he returned home to his hut only to discover he had left his begging bowl behind. Ryokan's bowl was made of wood as he used it both for meals and for begging (normally, begging bowls would be made of iron). Fortunately, Ryokan found the bowl where he had left it. He calls the bowl "aware," which means something like "sad beauty", an important concept in Japanese aesthetics. So it is not pitiable in the sense of worthless here!

Poem 7. There are several stories about Ryokan telling how he gave away his clothes or his bedding out of sympathy to a thief. One of them goes as follows: one evening a thief visited Ryokan's hut at the base of the mountain only to discover there was nothing to steal. Ryokan returned and caught him. "You have come a long way to visit me," he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty-handed. Please take my clothes as a gift." The thief was bewildered. He took the clothes and slunk away. Ryokan sat naked, watching the moon. "Poor fellow," he mused, "I wish I could have given him this beautiful moon."

An important point in this haiku is of course that the moon is symbolic of Enlightenment - a thief can rob you of your possessions, but Enlightenment can never be taken away.

Poem 8. The Bon Festival is the Buddhist festival held in mid-August, when the souls of the dead are welcomed back to the earth and entertained with food and music. At the Bon festival, slow communal dances are held, moving in a circle, and Ryokan was fond of such dances. In this poem, while staying in his hut on Mr Kugami, he hears the flute and drum music accompanying such dances from the distant village. On the one hand he wants to go there and join in, on the other hand he enjoys his solitude on the mountain, where only the sound of the wind in the pine trees can be heard (the summum of wabi).

Poem 9. A haiku about the Bon festival. Participants would dress in yukata (summer kimono) and wear a straw hat or use a hand towel to hide their identity. Ryokan was in fact recognized, but he was happy when someone jokingly said "she" was a good-looking dancer.

Poem 10. The haiku Ryokan offered to his companion Teishin on his death bed. The meaning is that he has shown his (normally hidden) bad side and his good side to Teishin - and now he falls like a leaf in autumn, never to return.

Poem 11. The novelist Kawabata Yasunari referred to this poem in his Nobel Prize address in Srockholm in 1968. The legacy Ryokan and Kawabata wanted to leave to the world is nothing less than the beauty of nature.



[Statue of Ryokan with begging bowl in Entsuji]
Translations and studies:
Ryūichi Abé and Peter Haskel, Great Fool: Zen master Ryōkan: poems, letters, and other writings. University of Hawaii Press, 1996.
Ryokan: Selected Tanka and Haiku, translated from the Japanese by Sanford Goldstein, Shigeo Mizoguchi and Fujisato Kitajima (Kokodo, 2000)
Ryokan, Zen Monk-Poet of Japan, by Burton Watson (Columbia U.P., 1977)
One Robe, One Bowl; The Zen Poetry of Ryōkan (ISBN 0834801264), 1977, translated and introduced by John Stevens. Weatherhill, Inc.
The Zen Poems of Ryōkan translated by Nobuyuki Yuasa, Princeton University Press, 1981.

Photos:
Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

 

Japanese Poetry Index




 

May 16, 2021

Modern Japanese Fiction by Year (8): 1956-1960 - The Years of Recovery

Modern Japanese Fiction by Year (8): 1956-1960 - The Years of Recovery

In 1956, the White Paper on the Economy declared an “end to the postwar period.” This meant that Japan had finally recovered from war devastation and regained the level of overall national wealth it had around 1935. In other words, economically the Japanese were finally back where they had been two decades earlier.


The late fifties were still a period of labor conflicts and political strife - about whether the security treaty with the U.S. would have to be renewed or not (the answer, in 1960, was "yes," but the protests against the renewal became the largest anti-government demonstration in postwar Japan) -  but the first half of the sixties were the politically calmer years of the birth of the "economic miracle," of the start of the rather unthinking pursuit of economic gains. The second half of the fifties also saw the beginning of rebellious youth culture in Japan ("Taiyo-zoku"), as all over the world.

As a result of high growth, by the middle of the sixties most Japanese would consider themselves as "middle class;" the postwar poverty was for good a thing of the past. Still, the trauma from militarism and the loss of the war festered on and the question of identity remained an important one. The prewar identity had been replaced by the consumer society, new economic patterns, rise in the status of women, advance of the conjugal family, new education, unionization, pursuit of personal happiness and new religious freedom. Much of that was good, or even necessary, but was it enough, and hadn't much been lost as well?

As regards literature, this was a fecund time. After the "Third Postwar Generation," in the second half of the 1950s appeared various important new writers as Oe Kenzaburo, Kaiko Takeshi and Miura Tetsuo. Woman writers coming to prominence included Enchi Fumiko, Ariyoshi Sawako, Setouchi Harumi, Kurahashi Yumiko and Kono Taeko. The 1960s was the beginning of an era when woman writers became increasingly important.

The writers from the "three generations" that started in the postwar years were now at their best: Abe Kobo wrote The Woman in the Dunes, The Face of Another and The Ruined Map; Mishima Yukio published The Temple of the Golden Pavilion and After the Banquet; Inoue Yasushi The Roof Tile of Tempyo and Tun-huang; Endo Shusaku The Sea and Poison and Volcano.
 

The doyens of Japanese literature also continued writing strong works, such as The Key and Diary of a Mad Old Man by Tanizaki Junichiro (who would die in 1965); The House of Sleeping Beauties and The Old Capital by Kawabata Yasunari; and Black Rain, the seminal novel about the aftermath of the atomic bomb, by Ibuse Masuji. 
 

"Popular" literature or genre literature also flourished. Dominant writers were: Matsumoto Seicho (detective and historical fiction), Shiba Ryotaro (historical fiction), Genji Keita (humorous stories about salarymen), and Hoshi Shinichi and Komatsu Sakyo (both science fiction). 


1956
The 1956 White Paper on the Economy declares an “end to the postwar period.” 

Japan becomes a member of the United Nations.
 

Prostitution Prevention Law passed.



(1) Mishima Yukio writes his greatest novel, Kinkakuji ("The Temple of the Golden Pavilion"), a psychological novel based on the actual arson of a famous Kyoto temple by a Zen acolyte.
Mizoguchi is a young man afflicted with a stutter, who from his youth on has been so obsessed with the beauty of the Golden Pavilion (possibly as a symbol for the whole of Japanese traditional culture) that he gradually - especially after the war has been lost and the Golden pavilion has survived unscathed - starts feeling the urge to destroy it. His character defect has made him jealous of beauty, he sees true beauty as something that overpowers and finally destroys. He is prodded on by his friend and "bad angel" Kashiwagi, a cynic, who has a club-foot, and likes to hold long "philosophical" digressions. It is as though the temple is shutting off Mizoguchi's access to the normal world. The Golden Pavilion in all its arrogance becomes his mortal enemy. And after Mizoguchi has finally set fire to the Pavilion, he feels properly relieved - instead of trying to commit suicide as the real arsonist did, he sits down on the hill above the temple and lights a cigarette, enjoying the view of the blaze. Japanese tradition fares badly in this novel. The tea ceremony, flower arrangement and garden viewing - and not to forget Zen Buddhism - provide occasions for acts of sadism, arson and treachery. Traditional symbols are deliberately contrasted with the ugliest of actions and placed in a world of perverted values. The abbot of the temple is caught by Mizoguchi when he secretly visits a geisha. At a tea ceremony, a woman who is taking leave of her lover who has been called into battle, offers him her breast milk in a traditional tea bowl. An American soldier walking in the garden of the Golden Pavilion with his pregnant Japanese girlfriend, tempts Mizoguchi into kicking her in the belly, so that she has a miscarriage. The novel, a study in evil, has therefore been called "an expression of postwar nihilism." But the novel can also be understood from Mishima's (anti-) aesthetics: the Golden Pavilion simply is too beautiful, it has to be robbed of its arrogance and power. Mizoguchi - and also Mishima - seems to feel that he will only become free through its destruction. Filmed in 1958 by Ichikawa Kon with Ichikawa Raizo.
[Tr. by Ivan Morris]


(2) Kagi (“The Key”) by Tanizaki Junichiro is a sardonic tale of an aging scholar who encourages his younger wife to take her daughter's fiancé as a lover, and then voyeuristically pores over her diary so that he can share in their amorous games by proxy.
In fact, both husband and wife write a diary and read each other's secrets. Shame and convention forbade a couple to talk about their sexual life; though voyeuristic, this round-about way was one possibility of communication. Of course, they pretend not to know each other's secrets. The "key" of the title refers to the key for the drawer where the husband keeps his diary, which he "hides" in a spot known to his wife. The husband starts giving his wife cognac in the evenings and when she gets sleepy, he undresses her and takes pictures of her body. For the first time, the husband can watch his wife to his heart's content, which makes him more excited than is good for him, for he has dangerously high hypertension. He has the photos developed by their daughter's fiancé, who as a result gets more interested in the mother than in the daughter. The charade stops when the professor suddenly dies from a stroke. The mother, daughter and her fiancé now set up a menage-a-trois. Filmed in 1959 by Ichikawa Kon with Kyo Machiko and Nakamura Ganjiro.
[tr. Howard Hibbett]


(3) Hyoheki ("The Ice Wall") by Inoue Yasushi 
Another novel by Inoue Yasushi about contemporary affairs that has not been translated into English. It is based on a real-life mountaineering accident and the resulting scandal involving an important company’s controversial new product, nylon rope, but it is also an intense double love triangle. Two friends are in love with the same married woman. Both are enthusiastic mountaineers and when on New Year's Day they try to scale the difficult north side of the Hodaka, their nylon rope breaks and one friend falls to his death. Was it murder, suicide, or was the rope faulty?
[No English translation] 

[1983 film poster]

(4) Narayama bushiko ("Tale of Narayama") by Fukazawa Shichiro set off a flurry of critical and popular debates, centering on nostalgia.
Set in a poor mountain village, Narayama is a retelling of a folk tale in which an old woman is taken by her son deep into the mountains to die, according to ancient custom. The reason is the lack of food in the village, so that the population may not increase. Therefore the elderly are regularly subjected to euthanasia (in reality, such a cruel costume never existed in Japan). Central to the novel is the acceptance of fate dictated by the community, which is seen as something noble. Twice made into a feature film: first by Kinoshita Keisuke in 1958, and again by Imamura Shohei in 1983.
[No English translation]


(5) Bodaiju ("The Buddha Tree") by Niwa Fumio
Niwa Fumio, the son of a priest of New Pure Land Buddhism, was a popular author with 80 novels and 100 short story collections to his record. The novel The Buddha Tree uses his unhappy childhood at the family temple as a backdrop: when he was eight years old his mother (priests were allowed to marry!) eloped with a Kabuki actor, an event that greatly traumatized him. In the novel the story is elaborated fictionally. The Buddha Tree is in the first place interesting for the insight it allows in the daily ins and outs of a Buddhist temple and the relations between a temple and its parishioners. By the way, a famous short story by Niwa Fumio is "The Hateful Age" ("Iyagarase no nenrei," 1947), about a family terrorized by a senile grandmother, which has been translated in Modern Japanese Short Stories, An Anthology by Ivan Morris (ed.).
[tr. Kenneth Strong] 


1957

(1) Onnazaka ("The Waiting Years") by Enchi Fumiko, is a novel about a woman living in the Meiji-period who submits to extreme sexual oppression. 
"Onnazaka" or literally "women's slope" is the easier of two slopes leading to a shrine or temple: usually one way up is a steep staircase, while the other is a gentle slope. The novel is set in the Meiji-period. At only 16 years of age, Tomo, the daughter of a former low-ranking samurai, marries a high-ranking bureaucrat, Shirakawa Yukitomo, in Fukushima. Wives had little status at this point in Japanese history and were expected to think only of serving the family, the head of which, under the household system of the day, enjoyed absolute control over all matters of property, residence, marriage, and divorce. Yukitomo proves to be an exceedingly cruel and tyrannical husband even for such times. He forces Tomo not only to choose mistresses for him (!) but also to look after them under the same roof, and shows no qualms about taking any woman he desires, including the maids and his own daughter-in-law, for his own. Tomo buries her sorrow and emptiness deep inside, sacrificing herself for the sake of the family and enduring in the belief that she will one day reach the light at the end of the tunnel. Yet illness and death are all that await Tomo. She has waited all those years for nothing...
[tr. John Bester]


Enchi Fumiko  (1905–1986) was born in Tokyo to the family of a prominent Japanese philologist, and familiarized herself with classical Japanese literature from an early age. Enchi started writing plays in the 1920s and turned to novels mainly in the years after the war. In addition to writing novels like Onnazaka ("The Waiting Years") and Onnamen ("Masks") that subtly portray women's emotions and sexual desires, she drew upon her knowledge of classical Japanese to create works filled with the beauty and mystique of old Japan, among them Namamiko monogatari ("A Tale of False Fortunes"). She is also known for her modern Japanese translation of The Tale of Genji. Like Inoue Yasushi, who was of the same generation, through circumstances Enchi only started writing novels in the postwar period.


(2) Three short stories by Kaiko Takeshi
Kaiko Takeshi started publishing in 1953, but his breakthrough came with three stories he wrote in 1957:

- The 28th Akutagawa Prize is won by "Hadaka no osama" ("The Emperor's New Clothes"), a story critical of the pressures placed on school children by Japan's educational system.
[No translation]

- "Panniku" ("Panic") is a story about a dedicated forester in a rural prefecture of Japan, who struggles against government incompetence and corruption. Kaiko wrote the story as a satirical allegory comparing human beings to mice.
[tr. Charles Dunn, unavailable]

- "Kyojin to omocha" ("Giants and Toys") is set in the world of business advertising. Three confectionery companies are locked in cut-throat rivalry for a share of a market increasingly dominated by imported US candy. One of the companies turns a young woman with exceptionally bad teeth into a star for their campaign. A masterwork in the new genre of "business novels." Filmed in 1958 by Masumura Yasuzo.
[tr. Tamae K. Prindle in Made in Japan and Other Japanese "Business Novels"


Osaka-born Kaiko Takeshi (1930-1989) was a prominent post-World War II writer, critic and television documentary writer. After graduating in law from Osaka City University, he moved to Tokyo where he worked in the public relations department of Kotobukiya (the present Suntory). In the 1960s he became known as a leftist activist because of his opposition to the U.S. policies in Indochina. This also found its way into a novel, Kagayakeru yami ("Into a Black Sun," 1968), an account of a Japanese journalist experiencing first-hand the life of the Americans and South Vietnamese troops in Vietnam. But not everything was political. Kaiko's major novel Natsu no yami ("Darkness in Summer," 1971) was essentially a romance between a reporter and an expatriate Japanese woman living in Europe. In his later years, Kaiko wrote numerous essays on food and drink and often appeared in food-related TV shows. 


(3) Umi to Dokuyaku (“The Sea and Poison”) by Endo Shusaku, a novel about the problem of individual responsibility in wartime based on a true case, and also the work that helped Endo gain a national reputation. 
Set largely in a Fukuoka hospital during WWII, this novel is concerned with medical experimentation carried out on downed American airmen. Medical intern Suguro undergoes a moral predicament when the Japanese military and his superiors force him to participate in the cruel vivisection of prisoners of war. The surgeon in charge refuses a narcotic to his American victim, declining to consider him as a patient. Suguro remains his whole life obsessed by feelings of horror, but is strangely unable to feel real guilt. Filmed in 1986 by Kumai Kei.
[tr. Michael Gallagher]


(4) Mishima Yukio writes Bitoku no yoromeki ("Virtue Falters"), his version of Radiguet's The Devil in the Flesh.
The story of a respectable married young woman's plunge into a yearlong affair with a bachelor the same age she once kissed, before her marriage, in a summer resort. Now that her husband's interest in her has waned, this one clumsy kiss from the past takes on a special importance. Setsuko seeks out the same man for an affair, from which they both derive great pleasure; but later she quietly withdraws, without any fuss, although the affair has forced her to have three abortions, one almost killing her. This is a good example of the "three-penny" novels Mishima wrote, just like for example Kawabata or Endo, as writers in Japan did not receive large royalties and were thus forced to keep writing profusely in various genres. The novel became a runaway bestseller and the expressions "virtue falters," as well as "yoromeku, to commit adultery" and "yoromeki fujin, adulterous lady," became popular. Radiguet, who died young, was one of Mishima's idols.  
[No translation]  


1958  
The Kanmon Tunnel opens, connecting Honshu and Kyushu by road for the first time.
Typhoon Ida kills at least 1,269 in Honshu. 

Construction of Tokyo Tower is completed.


(1) Early stories and short novel by Oe Kenzaburo, including the 29th Akutagawa prize winning "Prize Stock."

"Shisha no Ogori" ("Lavish are the Dead," 1957)
Oe's first story, containing in embryonic form many of the themes of his mature work. In this surreal tale, a young man (who like Oe himself is a student of French literature at Tokyo University), to earn a little extra money, takes on a job looking after dead bodies awaiting dissection, floating in a vast pool of preservative in the cellar of the university's Medical Faculty. The bodies which are still good have to be moved to a new pool. As he is engaged on this unpleasant job with another student, a young woman who appears to be pregnant, and an elderly caretaker, the student enters into mental conversations with the dead. At the end it appears there has been a mistake, and their disgusting work has been for nothing.
[tr. John Nathan]

"Shiiku" ("Prizestock" aka "The Catch", 1958). Akutagawa Prize.
About the friendship between a young village boy and a captured African-American pilot during WWII. But this is not a sentimental tale of a beautiful inter-cultural friendship: to the country boy, living in a remote part of Japan, the captured soldier who was shot down from the sky is something between a god and a pet animal. When the villagers come to deliver him to the authorities, the soldier takes the boy hostage. The townsfolk manage to kill the soldier, but in the process the father has to smash the hand of his son with a hatchet.
[tr. John Bester as “The Catch”; John Nathan as “Prizestock” in Teach Us to Outgrow Our Madness and also in The Oxford Book of Japanese Short Stories]

Memushi kouchi ("Nip the Buds, Shoot the Kids," 1958)
This first novel is a masterful pastoral story about lost innocence, and about abandonment and betrayal. During WWII, a group of juvenile delinquents from a reformatory in Tokyo is evacuated to a remote village where they are shamefully abandoned by villagers who fear that the plague has broken out (there are piles of rotting animal corpses). When the villagers flee to a neighboring village, they barricade the boys in and leave them to their fate. The boys first show compassion to each other and outsiders (such as an abandoned Korean boy, a young girl abandoned in a warehouse and a deserter) but in the end they cannot evade the hopelessness of their situation. The girl dies of plague after being bitten by a dog, the narrator's brother runs away into the forest and the villagers eventually return and are furious with the state in which they find the village. They kill the deserter and threaten the boys with violence to keep silent about the actions of the villagers. Only the narrator refuses and is chased into the forest to an unknown fate. 
[tr. Paul St. John Mackintosh and Maki Sugiyama]   


Oe Kenzaburo (1935) was born in a small and remote mountain village on Shikoku. His first stories were published while he was still a student of French literature at Tokyo University (where he wrote a thesis on the fiction of Sartre). His first stories have been called “pastorals” about violence and the sacrifice of the innocent during wartime. These were followed by novels dealing with urban and political issues. Oe married the sister of his best friend, the actor and film director Itami Juzo, but the son Hikari who was born in 1953 was retarded due to brain hernia; Oe would write several books about the reactions of a young father to the birth of a brain-damaged child (A Personal Experience, “Aghwee the Sky Monster”). All these themes are combined in The Silent Cry which follows the adventures of a young family’s attempt to return to their native village to raise their mentally handicapped son. Oe’s later fiction also contains apocalyptic and fantastic elements, such as in The Game of Contemporaneity (1979), a mythic version of Japanese history told from the viewpoint of those who live on its margins, or The Burning Green Tree (1993-95) – two major novels which have not (yet) been translated into English. In 1994, Oe became the second Japanese writer to win the Nobel prize in Literature, but perhaps because of the difficulty of his work, this did not lead to the usual flow of translations (at least in English). He certainly deserves more attention. Oe is a deeply humanist writer, who always takes a stance with the marginalized and against all forms of imperialism. As Susan Napier says, “Besides being a stunning creator of modern myths, Oe remains a fiercely engaged human being, relentlessly trying to awaken not only his countrymen but the world.” (in Stephen Snyder & Philip Gabriel ed., Oe and Beyond, p. 13) 
[Study: Susan J. Napier, Escape from the Wasteland] 


(2) Onnamen (“Masks,” lit. “Female Masks”) by Enchi Fumiko takes up the theme of spirit possession and jealousy explored in the Lady Rokujo section of The Tale of Genji to weave a complex tale of female revenge against men ("the archetypal woman is not only an object of man's eternal love, but can also be an object of man's eternal fear").
Two men, Ibuki (a young professor of Japanese literature) and Mikame (a psychiatrist) are both in love with Yasuko, a beautiful young widow with whom they have come into contact through their common interest in folklore studies. Yasuko’s late husband died on a climbing expedition and she still lives with his mother, the mysterious Togano Mieko. Neither Ibuki not Mikame is initially aware that the late husband had a twin sister, Harume, who has been brought up in secret by Mieko. Though attractive, Harume is severely retarded. Mieko has a hidden agenda, which is the continuation of the family bloodline through the impregnation of her mentally weak daughter. So Ibuki, who has initiated a passionate affair with Yasuko, is tricked into thinking that he is sharing his bed with Yasuko, while in reality Harume has been substituted for her…
[tr. Juliet Winters Carpenter]

[Jianzhen / Ganjin]

(3) Tenpyo no iraka (“The Rooftile of Tempyo”) by Inoue Yasushi is a faithful account of the tribulations of the 8th c. Chinese monk Ganjin (Ch. Jianzhen) to bring the authentic Buddhist precepts to Japan.
The “Tempyo” in the title is the name for an era (729-749) when Japan was engaged in her first attempt to acquire the culture of a more advanced civilization, the Tang empire of China. Why was it important to bring “Vinaya-master” Ganjin to Japan? Because the orthodox transmission of the Law in Buddhism is from master to disciple. That disciple, after passing several tests, is then officially ordinated on an ordination platform, where a certain number of officially ordinated elder priests has to be present. By bringing Ganjin with a number of his already ordained followers to Japan, the “orthodox transmission” of Buddhism was finally established on Japanese soil. The determination Ganjin demonstrated was most impressive. In the eleven years from 743 to 754, Ganjin attempted some six times to travel to Japan. Five times, he was thwarted by unfavorable weather conditions and government intervention (the Chinese at first did not want this important monk to leave). In 748, during the fifth attempt, his ship was blown so far off course that Ganjin landed on the southern island of Hainan. This journey alone, including the long trek back to Yangzhou, took a full three years and cost Ganjin his eyesight due to an infection. In 753 at long last an official Japanese embassy visited China, and Ganjin could travel with this group. They landed in Kyushu and in 754 arrived in the Japanese capital of Nara, where they were welcomed by the Emperor. A large ordination platform was built at Todaiji Temple and thus, finally, took place the orthodox transmission of Buddhism to Japan (Buddhism had trickled into Japan in the 6th century, and by the 8th c. had become a state religion). By the way, the "roof tile" of the title is a shibi, an end tile in the form of a mythical sea monster. This tile was sent from China to Japan and was installed on the roof of Toshodaiji (the temple founded by Ganjin and his disciples) as a symbol of the spread of Buddhism.
[tr. James T. Araki]

(4) Ten to Sen ("Points and Lines") by Matsumoto Seicho. That the double suicide of a young couple on a secluded beach in Kyushu is not what it seems, comes to light thanks to the painstakingly gathering of evidence by two police officers. 
This detective novel was in three ways innovative: instead of the unrealistic mysteries by Yokomizo Seishi and others, this was a realistic police procedural; it was a "social mystery," i.e. the background of the crime was formed by social injustice and corruption (Matsumoto singlehandedly created this sub-genre which would have countless followers) and thirdly, it was also a "railway travel mystery," another important genre created by Matsumoto. Trains are a popular form of transport in Japan, more so perhaps then in other countries. The late 1950s were a time when Japan was getting on its feet again and people were starting to make holiday trips by rail. In Points and Lines, not only do the detectives travel a lot by train in the course of their job, the solution of the crime lies in a trick with the time table (by the way, something only possible in a country like Japan where all trains run exactly on time!). Points and Lines was filmed in 1958 with Takamine Mieko.
[tr. Makiko Yamamoto and Paul C. Blum]  


Matsumoto Seicho (1909-1992) was one of Japan’s most popular writers of the second half of the 20th century. Born in Kokura (now part of Kitakyushu), he was mainly self-educated. In 1937, he started working for the Western Japan advertising department of the Asahi Shinbun, and in the meager years after the war he started writing short stories to supplement his income. In 1952, he published "Aru Kokura nikki-den" in a literary magazine - and the next year this short story won the 28th Akutagawa Prize. Soon, Matsumoto Seicho devoted himself solely to writing. He wrote contemporary stories and novels, but also historical tales and of course the mystery fiction for which he is in the first place famous. He also wrote a lot of non-fiction, such as essays about history, travel and early Japanese history and archeology. Matsumoto wrote his first mystery stories, “Harikomi” (“The Stakeout”) and “Kao” (“The Face”), in 1955. “Kao” won the Mystery Writers of Japan Award in 1957, the year that Matsumoto started serializing his first mystery novel, Ten to sen (“Points and Lines”), which became a huge national bestseller. 1958 was a watershed in the detective genre, people would speak about "before Matsumoto Seicho" and "after Matsumoto Seicho." The late fifties saw a true "Seicho boom," and Matsumoto wrote so much that he suffered from severe writer's cramp and had to start dictating his work. In the 1960s, Matsumoto continued as Japan's best selling and highest earning author. His most popular later mystery novels would be Suna no Utsuwa (“The Vessel of Sand,” 1961), which sold more than 4.5 million copies and Zero no Shoten (“Zero Focus," 1960), which sold 2.4 million copies (Ten to sen sold 3.1 million). More than 35 feature films were based on his novels, most noticeably by director Nomura Yoshitaro; the number of TV films is many times as large.


(5) Kaei ("The Shade of Blossoms") by Ooka Shohei is a novel of manners set in the decadent, upscale Ginza bar and nightclub milieu of the 1950s. 
This short novel (based on a real life model) depicts an aging and rather naive nightclub hostess’s struggle. The central character, Yoko, is already in her late thirties. She has worked as a nightclub hostess all her life, but unlike most of her colleagues has never managed to either hook a husband and start a new life, or find a sponsor who sets her up with her own bar or club. She's willful, and unwilling (and unable) to make the necessary compromises. With her looks diminishing, her situation looks ever bleaker. Ooka's setting has changed but not his recurring theme: his characters are still adrift and struggling for survival in an inhospitable "jungle." Filmed in 1961 by Kawashima Yuzo.
[tr. Dennis Washburn]  


1959 
Ise Bay Typhoon crosses central Honshu and leaves 5,000 dead. 
Beginning of protests against the revision of the United States-Japan Security Treaty.

Death of Nagai Kafu (1879-1959).

(1) Tanizaki writes one of his most beautiful and ambiguous novellas, Yume no ukihashi ("The Bridge of Dreams").
In The Bridge of Dreams two of Tanizaki's major obsessions are perfectly united: the search for a lost traditional Japan and the search for a lost mother, who combines the maternal with the seductive. This is also what the title points at: the "(Floating) Bridge of Dreams" is the name of the final chapter of the Genji Monogatari, and here meant as a reference to the whole novel, which starts with the affair the protagonist has with his stepmother Fujitsubo. And the title is of course also a metaphor for the dreamlike quality of life and of the world of love. The story is set in the womb-like enclosed environment of a traditional house and garden where three people live: a father, his wife Chinu and their young son Tadasu. When Tadasu is only five years old, his mother dies. His father remarries and now something strange happens: the father has his new wife impersonate the deceased one. She has to take the same name, Chinu, wear the same type of clothes and allow Tadasu to sleep with her in the same way as he did with his own mother. She also plays the koto and practices calligraphy, like Tadasu's first mother. And so the idyllic life in the enclosed paradise garden continues even after the intrusion of death, the stepmother conflated with the real mother... But after the father dies, events take a strange twist...
[Tr. by Howard Hibbett in Seven Japanese Tales; studied in The Secret Window, Ideal Worlds in Tanizaki's Fiction by Anthony Hood Chambers]


(2) A new writer, Ariyoshi Sawako, writes her greatest novel, about three generations of women from the Wakayama countryside, Kinokawa ("The River Ki").
This is the story of three generations of women (Hana, Fumio and Hanako) of an important landholding family living from the late 19th to mid 20th century (in respectively the Meiji, Taisho and Showa periods) in the countryside outside Wakayama City on the River Ki. The novel explores their changing attitudes and expectations, showing how the position of women changed in the course of the 20th c. While Hana has all the accomplishments of a traditional Japanese wife - cultured, feminine, modest but also strong, working tirelessly behind the scenes to support her politician husband (and uttering no complaint when he takes a mistress) -, Fumio is coltish and inspired by feminism. Ahead of her time, she is convinced that men and women should be treated as equals. Different from her mother, whose marriage was arranged by her family, she picks her own (modern) businessman husband and spends much of her life stationed abroad with him. Her daughter Hanako is even further removed from the traditional heritage and sees Japan with the eyes of a foreigner, but her character is gentle. The women form in fact the backbone of the family, which is truly a matriarchy. There are interesting pieces of folklore in the novel, such as that "marrying to the family from the river downstream to upstream is no good and across the river is also bad because the water running in between severs the relationship." Hana also regularly visits Jisonin Temple in Kudoyama, dedicated to the 9th c. famous priest Kukai's mother and also to childbirth, where she always prays for a safe delivery when she herself or her daughters are pregnant. The book is filled with detailed and fascinating scenes which give a good impression of Japanese culture. Filmed in 1966 by Nakamura Noboru.
[tr. by Mildred Tahara]


Wakayama-born Ariyoshi Sawako (1931-1984) was educated at Tokyo Women's Christian College, where she studied literature and theater. 
In 1956 Ariyoshi made her literary debut with “Jiuta,” a story set in the world of traditional Japanese music. Ariyoshi became known as a prolific and talented novelist. She often raised crucial social problems and women's issues in her novels. Among her themes have been the problems faced by women in the traditional Japanese household (The River Ki, The Doctor's Wife), care for the elderly (The Twilight Years), and environmental pollution. She also wrote about traditional Japanese performing arts, such as in Izumo no Okuni ("The Kabuki Dancer," 1969). Ariyoshi achieved great popularity: many of her novels have also been adapted for the stage, the cinema, and television.


(3) Umibe no kokei ("A View by the Sea") by Yasuoka Shotaro is his masterwork, about a son visiting his dying mother in a mental institution.
The institution is located in beautiful scenery at the coast of Kochi Prefecture, and Shintaro has come with his father, Shinkichi, whom he rarely ever sees. They have been alerted by the hospital that the mother's condition is critical. Through flashbacks the domestic misery and friction among the family of three is filled in, something we already know from Yasuoka's short stories. The father was a veterinarian in the military (a job that filled the mother with shame), was sent to the front, made a POW and after he returned to Japan was unwilling to find a new job but kept growing tobacco and other stuff in his garden. All these ventures were a failure, which probably contributed to the mother's decline into premature senility. Yasuoka writes plainly and grimly in this relentlessly dour, ugly-detailed slice of family fiction. The son is emotionally blunted through the whole story, unable to cope with his mother's impending death, yet does all the right things without thinking about them, and then worries that he's making a bad impression on the other people around him.
[tr. Karen Wigen]

[Mogao Caves, Dunhuang]

(4) Inoue Yasushi writes Tonko ("Tun-huang"), an exploration of the mystery of the Thousand Buddha Caves. 
The Mogao Caves, as they are officially called, form a system of 492 temples 25 km SE of the center of Dunhuang, an oasis strategically located at a religious and cultural crossroads on the Silk Road, in Gansu province, China. The network of caves, which were developed from the 4th to the 14th c., contains countless valuable large and small Buddhist statues and frescoes. In addition, in 1900 an incredible hoard of Buddhist sutras and other manuscripts including literary works was accidentally discovered here by an itinerant Daoist monk. The thousands of documents had been concealed in a cave for more than 900 years. Inoue, who also wrote other stories about Chinese Central Asia, such as “Lou-lan,” speculates in Tonko on the reasons for the hiding of such treasures. His protagonist is a young Chinese, whose failure to take the important state exam that will qualify him as a high government official leads to a chance encounter that draws him farther and farther into the wild and contested lands west of the Chinese Empire. Here he distinguishes himself in battle, finds love, and ultimately devotes himself to the strange task of depositing the scrolls in the caves where, many centuries later, they will be rediscovered. An enthralling historical reconstruction, which took the author five years of research, written in a sober, factual and impersonal style, devoid of any interpretive descriptions (as the earlier The Roof Tile of Tempyo).
[tr. by Jean Oda Moy, New York Review Books]


(5) Abe Kobo writes a literary novel which borrows elements of both a thriller and SF novel, Daiyon kanpyoki ("Inter Ice Age 4").
Professor Katsumi has developed an advanced computer that can predict future events. Unknown to him, his colleagues have used that computer to predict the future and found that it foresees a time when global warming will cause the seas to rise and cover the land - in order to survive, humans will have to become "aquans," after biologically mutating and developing gills so that they can live under water. The conspirators therefore are secretly breeding mammals that can live under water; this also includes obtaining human fetuses for their experiments. Dr Katsumi discovers that his own wife has had an abortion and that the fetus has fallen into the hands of the scientific conspiracy. There is a strong feeling of paranoia in the novel as the computer has produced a simulacrum of the professor which acts as his enemy. The computer has predicted that Dr Katsumi will betray the conspiracy upon discovering it, so his life is in danger. Will it be a consolation to him that his son will live on as an aquan? Written in a cool scientific style with lengthy arguments and little plot development, as would be Abe's style also in the 1960s and later.
[tr. E. Dale Saunders]


(6)  Endo Shusaku writes one of his most popular novels, Obakasan ("Wonderful Fool"), a story about a kind, innocent and naive Frenchman, who in spite of his unusual behavior changes everyone he meets for the better. 
Gaston Bonaparte, the “wonderful fool,” is a Christ-like figure who comes to postwar Tokyo on a sudden visit to his old pen pal Takamori. He possesses an overpowering and completely self-sacrificing love of people and animals and while he stays with Takamori and his sister Tomoe (acting as ineffectual guardian angels) he wanders alone into Tokyo and befriends a variety of "undesirables," including stray dogs, prostitutes and even a hardened killer (ironically named “Endo”). The contact with the killer is central to the novel: can Gaston, who trusts everybody, prevent the killer who trusts no-one from committing another murder? The finale of the novel takes literally place in a swamp, Endo's habitual comparison for Japan and its ambiguity. This is Endo writing in a popular style: though amusing, the book is also a bit childish and simplistic.
[tr. Francis Mathy]


(7) Mishima Yukio writes Kyoko no ie ("Kyoko's House"), his first large, non-serialized (kakioroshi) novel, which however becomes a critical failure.  
The interconnected stories of four young men who represent various aspects of the author's personality and experiences. His athletic side appears as a boxer, his artistic side as a painter, his narcissistic, performing side as an actor and his cautious, calculating side as a businessman. Fukui Shunkichi, the student boxer, embodies the thought-erasing physicality of sports Mishima idealized and later takes up right-wing politics. Japanese-style painter Yamagata Natsuo is an aesthete who for a while becomes interested in mysticism. The aspiring actor Funaki Osamu takes up body-building to transform his scrawny body and becomes involved in a sado-masochistic relationship which ends in double suicide. Salaryman Sugimoto Seiichiro, living in New York - which allowed Mishima to use experiences from his visit to the U.S. - has a secretive, nihilistic side and goes through the motions of living a normal life while practicing "absolute contempt for reality," as he believes that the world is bound to perish. The only connection between these men is that they sometimes meet in the house of Kyoko, a woman modeled on an acquaintance of Mishima who keeps a sort of "salon." The four men were meant to stand for a whole generation, but that doesn't succeed for they are all too much like Mishima himself. Mishima poured enormous effort and talent into this book so he was all the more shocked by its failure. Still, the themes are very typical for Mishima and his ideology and it is regrettable that the book has never been translated.
[No English translation]


1960
Second United States-Japan Security Treaty signed. Demonstrators against ratification of the treaty besiege the National Diet Building in what became the largest anti-government demonstration in postwar Japan. 
Later in the year, the chairman of the Japan Socialist Party, while on live TV, is assassinated by a right-wing youth. 

The Akutagawa Prizes this year go to Kita Morio for Yoru to kiri no sumi de ("In The Corner Of Night And Fog") and to Miura Tetsuo for Shinobugawa ("Shame in the Blood"). 


(1) Shimao Toshio starts writing stories in the long, linked series Shi no toge ("The Sting of Death," 1960-76).
A series of twelve linked short stories published in different literary magazines between 1960 and 1976 (and in 1977 combined and published as a single novel) about the relationship between the author Shimao Toshio and his wife Miho, who suffered from neurasthenia. It was her husband's unfaithfulness which drove Miho over the edge, so that she became prone to repeated nervous breakdowns and monomaniacal rampages. Toshio's apologies don't help and he loses his ability to write. Finally, he understands the full magnitude of the sin he has committed against his wife. He then tries to devote his life to saving her. He starts to live with her at the mental hospital, something which was seen as very unusual showing "deep love." The title of the work is taken from the biblical saying, "The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law." (Corinthians I, 15:16). In 1956, Shimao converted to Catholicism. The present novel was adapted as a film in 1990 by Oguri Kohei with Matsuzaka Keiko in the role of the wife Miho. This novel is considered as a masterpiece of Japan's postwar literature.
[The Sting of Death and Other Stories, trans. Kathryn Sparling, Michigan Papers in Japanese Studies, University of Michigan Press, 1985]



Shimao Toshio (1917-1986) studied at Kyushu University. During the war he lived on Amami-Oshima, where he met and married his future wife, a school teacher. After the war he went first to Kobe, then to Tokyo, where he founded the magazine Gendai Hyoron. Eventually he returned to Amami-Oshima and worked there as a teacher. Shimao has received numerous awards for his literary work. In 1972 he received the Mainichi Culture Prize in the literature and art category. For his best-known work, the autobiographical novel Shi no toge he was awarded the Yomiuri Literature Prize in 1977 and the Grand Prize for Japanese Literature in 1978. For Hi no utsuroi he received the Tanizaki Jun’ichirō Prize in 1977, the Kawabata Yasunari Literature Prize for Wannai no irie de 1983 and the Noma Literature Prize for Gyoraitei gakusei in 1985. The two themes in his work are his wartime experience (he was trained as a kamikaze pilot but the war ended before he was sent on a mission) and "madness in women," due to the illness of his wife.
[Study: J. Philip Gabriel,
Mad Wives and Island Dreams: Shimao Toshio and the Margins of Japanese Literature, University of Hawaii Press, 1999]


(2) Nemureru bijo ("House of the Sleeping Beauties") by Kawabata Yasunari combines several of the author's favorite themes: virginity, old age, death and eroticism.
An elderly man, Eguchi (67), discovers a rather special house at the invitation of a friend. It welcomes old people, who suffer from Testosterone Deficiency Syndrome, and allows them to spend the night with pure, virginal young girls, drugged enough so that nothing can wake them up. The customers are not allowed to touch the girls in any way. Eguchi is presented with a different girl each time he visits the house because of the short notice of his visits. Each girl is different and the descriptions of his actions are mixed with the dreams that he has sleeping besides the girls. Death is ever-present: the girls, who are like beautiful corpses, become a sort of memento mori for the older man. During the five nights thus spent, Eguchi reflects on his life, his loves, the death that awaits him and the decrepitude and dishonor that old age constitutes for a man.

The novella ends with the death of one of the girls. On the fith night Eguchi sleeps with two girls, a white-skinned one and a dark-skinned one. When he awakes from his dreams and reflections, he notices that the dark-skinned girl has become cold and dead. Eguchi is shocked, afraid that he perhaps has killed her in his sleep. The proprietress of the inn deals calmly with the incident. She doesn't even call a doctor, but hands Eguchi a sleeping pill with the remark that he still has another girl. The sound of the car carrying the dead girl away slowly fades.

Won the Mainichi Cultural prize. P.S. The plot of Gabriel García Márquez's novella Memories of My Melancholy Whores is ostensibly inspired by the House of the Sleeping Beauties.

[tr. Edward Seidensticker]


(3)
Utage no ato ("After the Banquet"), a novel about politics based on an actual occurrence, by Mishima Yukio led to a court case for "violation of privacy."
The politician Arita Hachiro sued Mishima, claiming the novel violated his privacy. The Tokyo District Court found in favor of Arita on 28 September 1964, Japan's first judicial recognition of the right to privacy. The case became famous as the "After the Banquet case" (Utage no Ato Saiban).  The protagonists of the novel are an elegant political figure in his sixties, former cabinet minister Noguchi Yuken, and Fukuzawa Kazu, proprietress of the upscale Japanese-style Setsugoan restaurant, who is in her mid-fifties, a woman with a man's resolution and a woman's reckless enthusiasm. Although mismatched (he has a foreign intellectual coolness, she is a Mishima-type Japanese romantic) they marry and Kazu throws herself full of vigor into the election campaign of Noguchi. Unwittingly, she also finances some illegal election activities and the campaign (for which Kazu has mortgaged her restaurant) ends in disaster, as does the marriage. Kazu, a woman of the flesh, of passion, and of unbridled fancy, has been called Mishima's best female portrait. Like so much in Mishima's work her marriage to Noguchi is also a partnership in death, for it was Kazu's dream to be buried in the family grave of the Noguchis.
{tr. Donald Keene]


[The Sakurajima volcano in Kagoshima]

(4) Kazan ("Volcano") by Endo Shusaku
There are many volcanoes in Japan, but Akadake, as the volcano in Endo's novel is called, is not one of them. It is a fictional mountain, but is seems to have been based on Mt Sakurajima, the large volcano looming up above the city of Kagoshima in southern Kyushu. Kyushu is also the island where, in the 16th century, Christianity first flourished in Japan.

Volcano is a novel about the trials of old age. The two aged protagonists are Suda Jinpei, who is just
retired from his position as section chief at the local Weather Bureau, and Durand, an unfrocked French Catholic priest. The fates of both men are linked by the volcano. Suda has for his whole life studied the volcano and believes it is dormant, reason why he advises a tycoon to build a luxury hotel on its slope. Durand, sick and bitter, is convinced that Akadake will erupt and that a tide of lava will sweep away the new Christian retreat being built on the mountain by a rival priest.

Suda suffers a stroke, and while in hospital believes that
his family wants him to die. He feels sympathy for the volcano which is also dying. Durand contemplates the problem of Christianity and Japan and comes to the conclusion that Christianity is alien to the Japanese character. To him Akadake is a symbol of evil that will erupt and annihilate the fragile faith of the local Christian community.

[tr. Richard A. Schuchert]


(5) Shinobugawa ("Shame in the Blood") by Miura Tetsuo describes the pure love of an impoverished couple brought together by their tragic pasts.
This semi-autobiographical set of linked short stories is considered as one of the finest love stories in modern Japanese literature. Shinobugawa tells the charming tale of the narrator, known only as "I," a student at a university in Tokyo, and Shino, a young woman who works at a restaurant, Shinobugawa, near his dormitory. The narrator, the youngest of six children, has seen two of his brothers run away and two sisters commit suicide, while his remaining sister is physically disabled. Tormented by fears that his family's blood is "cursed," he nonetheless decides to affirm life and take responsibility for his family.
[Translated by Andrew Driver, Counterpoint]



Miura Tetsuo (1931–2010) was born in Aomori Prefecture. He worked for a while as a school instructor after dropping out of Waseda University, but when four of his five siblings committed suicide or ran away, he left teaching behind, fearing that his family carried a curse. He re-matriculated at Waseda and began writing. After his novel Shinobugawa won the 1961 Akutagawa Prize, he pursued writing as a way, he says, to purify his "cursed" blood, producing a series of "I-novels." His other works include Umi no michi ("The Paths of the Sea"), depicting the "red-haired harbor geisha" born to foreign sailors and Japanese mothers; Shonen sanka ("Hymn of the Young Men"), describing the young Japanese who traveled to Europe on an official mission in 1582; and Byakuya o tabisuru hitobito ("The White-Night Travelers"), the tale of a unfortunate family. Miura's short fiction has also won him high praise.


(6) "Parutai" ("Partei") by Kurahashi Yumiko is a satire on young intellectuals who identify strongly with Communist ideology.
As title Kurahashi uses the German word for "(political) Party." Another word that frequent crops up in the story is the French honte, shame. The narrator is enthusiastically invited by her lover to join the Communist Party, although she herself is not really interested. After all, joining the Party means relinquishing one's personal life and subordinating to the Party's principles. The narrator dislikes the heavy atmosphere of the building in which the party members meet and work, and is "irritated by the unpleasant odor from the lower part of the body that is produced when human beings live in a group." Her lover explains the procedures necessary to join the Party, among which the most important one is to provide one's "life history." That life history has to show the personal past in such a way that joining the party appears as an inevitability. It takes the narrator a lot of time and trouble to write a simple chronological account. But after it has been accepted, she immediately decides to withdraw from the Party. "To me it seemed like a kind of religious organization, developing as it did from a body of commandments and secret rituals."
[tr. by Yukiko Tanaka and Elizabeth Hanson in This Kind of Woman]

Kurahashi Yumiko (1935-2005) was the first generation to be educated in the new "equal opportunity" system for boys and girls after WWII. She was born in Kochi Prefecture and studied French literature at Meiji University in Tokyo. She made a brilliant literary debut with "Partei" in 1960. She was inspired by such writers as Kafka, Camus and Sartre. Her work was experimental and antirealist, questioning prevailing societal norms regarding sexual relations, violence, and social order. Her antinovels employed pastiche, parody, and other elements typical of postmodernist writing. Despite health problems, in 1966 she went to study at the University of Iowa in the U.S., where she spent about a year with a Fulbright scholarship. In 1969 Kurahashi published the dystopian novel Adventures of Sumiyakisto Q (Sumiyakisuto Q no boken). Her Cruel Fairy Tales for Adults (Otona no tame no zankoku dowa) became her most popular work during her lifetime. In 1987 she was awarded the Izumi Kyoka Prize for Literature for her massive anti-utopian work Journey to Amanon (Amanonkoku okanki). Kurahashi was of the same generation as Oe Kenzaburo and like him born on the island of Shikoku, and both studied French literature and were interested in Sartre.


(7) Yoru to kiri no sumi de ("In the Corner of Night and Fog") by Kita Morio takes its name from "Nacht und Nebel," the Nazi campaign to eliminate Jews, the mentally ill and other minorities.
The novel concerns the moral quandary of staff at a German mental hospital during the final years of WWII. Faced with demands from the SS that the most severely ill patients be segregated for transportation to a special camp, where it is obvious that they will be eliminated, the more morally conscious of the doctors make desperate efforts to protect the patients without outwardly defying the authorities. A parallel theme is the personal tragedy of a young Japanese researcher affiliated with the mental hospital, whose own schizophrenia has been triggered by the disappearance of his half-Jewish wife.
[No English translation]


[Reference works used: Dawn to the West by Donald Keene (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1984); Modern Japanese Novelists, A Biographical Dictionary by John Lewell (New York, Tokyo and London: Kodansha International, 1993); Narrating the Self, Fictions of Japanese Modernity by Tomi Suzuki (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996); Oe and Beyond, Fiction in Contemporary Japan, ed. by Stephen Snyder and Philip Gabriel (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1999); Origins of Modern Japanese Literature by Karatani Kojin (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 1993); The Columbia Anthology of Modern Japanese Literature, 2 vols, ed. by J. Thomas Rimer and Van C. Gessel (New York: Columbia University Press, 2005 and 2007); The Fantastic in Modern Japanese Literature by Susan J. Napier (London and New York: Routledge, 1996); Writers & Society in Modern Japan by Irena Powell (New York, Tokyo and London: Kodansha International, 1983).]

[Photo Kinkakuji: own work. All other photos and author portraits public domain via Wikimedia Commons]