by Kenzaburo Oe
“I don’t think they acted without a purpose,” Dancer said. “I think they were trying to be proactive, trying to figure out why the Somersault had to take place. Guide told me about some of those young radicals. What I got out of it was that these were young people who were trying to fill in what was missing in their own lives. They were searching for spiritual peace. They wanted the wisdom that would allow them to live in the trying times to come.
“They were bright and serious, which makes them all the more sad. These lonely, suffering young people had, for the first time in their lives, created their very own community at the Izu Research Institute. But Patron and Guide just couldn’t handle them. If the control of the church was turned over to the radical faction, the ship of the church, so to speak, would have rammed into an iceberg. So Patron and Guide scurried away to safer ground. You can’t deny that, right?”
“You’re pretty outspoken for a young woman, aren’t you?” Kizu said regretfully.
Patron, who’d let it all slide by, spoke up. “But she’s exactly right, “he said, standing up for Dancer. “We not only abandoned ship, we denied that the ship ever had any use to begin with—either back in the beginning or in the future. That’s what the Somersault was all about.”
3
When Dancer saw that his little pronouncement was over, she spoke again, before Kizu had a chance to comment.
“Apart from their special fields,” she said, “Guide was the main teacher for those young people, showing them how to live a life of faith. As everyone admits, he was a born educator. The young people’s group in Izu should have been Guide’s masterpiece. I don’t see it as a group of sadists. These were the best and brightest of the elite university system, people used to the seminar system of training, right? They weren’t about to dig themselves holes in which to ponder things alone; they were best at getting together to study and debate as a group.
“Their last seminar—with the guest speaker being held against his wishes, a dangerous thing to do—revolved around learning what, ten years after the fact, the Somersault meant to Patron and Guide.
“If you listen to the tape, you’ll hear that in the beginning they were divided into two groups. One group vehemently denied Patron, saying the church was totally meaningless. They were the ones who felt abandoned and wanted revenge. The other group insisted that Patron and Guide were victims. TV had made them into laughingstocks all over Japan. Thanks to this, the underground shock troops didn’t get a chance to leap into action.
“This second group viewed the Somersault as Patron’s clear warning that the end of the world was near. Just as Jesus was crucified along with two criminals, letting oneself fall into the most wretched place possible meant the final stage had been reached, where the end time is announced. ‘We should believe in the sullied and insulted Patron and Guide and await the Day of Wrath,’ they said. ‘If Guide, who suffered the worst pain in the most wretched of places, tells you to believe in him, all trials can be transformed into something positive.’ That’s the kind of appeal these people made.
“The two groups didn’t just debate each other, they also talked about their individual experiences, the trying times they had had because of the Somersault—not just the obvious abandonment and loss of spiritual support but their need to take responsibility for the plans of the whole group, be investigated by the authorities—all of this must have been horrible.
“In the face of this horror, Guide didn’t try to make excuses or explain away his true intentions. As long as the questions were straightforward, he answered them concisely and sincerely. The only time he got emotional was when he heard they’d poisoned his Saint Bernard. ‘Why did you have to do that?’ he rebuked them. This brought on laughter from those who were detaining him, from the first group, at least.
“Because of what they’d gone through, all the kidnappers demanded a complete explanation. I’ve listened to the tape many times and would sum up Guide’s response as follows.” At this point Dancer took out a paper she’d had ready and began to read.
“‘Some people say that Patron and I did the Somersault in order to use the media to deceive the public. That’s not true. We might have done something like that if the Somersault had been entirely our own arbitrary decision.
“‘With a great deal of fanfare we confessed to the public that all our beliefs until then were a sham. The highlight of the whole Somersault was when Patron said that the written records of his visions—the account, for instance, of an anthropomorphic God—were completely laughable and our gospel was worse than some stupid Hollywood spectacular. But what this showed was that there is a faith that isn’t mistaken. After the Somersault, Patron and I fell into the pit of hell. Our faith may have been in error, but this was an unmistakable sign that over the two of us and our errors towers a living God.
“‘Right now Patron and I, believing in that sign, are crawling up out of hell. But the way you’re acting now disqualifies you from being part of Patron’s new movement. Ten years ago, like a crystal extracted from a solution, it was you, rather than our gospel, who substantiated our religious movement’s errors. Our book has been trampled on and disappeared, yet still you haven’t repented.’
“As Guide said this, the first group laughed in his face again. Laughing about the dog was bad enough, but this time it was even more cruel. At this point, according to what Dr. Koga told me, the only thing the second group felt it could do was get away, it being obvious that Guide was only going to be tormented further. I cried as I listened to this tape, knowing that all that was left for Guide was to be killed. Such a meaningless death. And just when he was climbing out of hell with Patron!”
Dancer turned her face toward the hemispherical light on the ceiling, her pink mouth open, and cried. Teardrops rolled down both sides of the slim bridge of her nose. Despite her tears, Ikuo zeroed in on her. “I’d say that Dancer’s long tale has done what it set out to do. You’ve kept with the intentions of the town authorities who are accepting us into their midst, cried tears over Guide’s death, all very natural as a response, making it hard for Patron to oppose this. Your goal is to have everyone arrive at a consensus to deny one party of the former radical faction—in order to accept Dr. Koga and his more ‘sensible’ colleagues. But is this fair? Is it right for Dancer’s tears to make us agree that the former radical faction’s burst of laughter was cruel and outrageous? Is this really appropriate for a new church with Patron at its center?
“According to Ogi, when he was listening to the tape with Dancer, she did indeed stop the tape and cry for a while after the second burst of laughter. But Ogi said that after this she plugged in some headphones and listened to the rest of the tape by herself.
“I don’t believe Dancer is just an emotional person, let alone a sentimental one. This morning she called me over to talk with her. ‘We’ve already decided the conditions under which the town would accept us,’ she told me, ‘yet you’re trying to wreck it all. And even if you weren’t, the antichurch movement is smoldering in the town,’ she said, ‘criticizing me and any plan to allow former radical-faction members who want to be accepted back into the fold.’
“Though we’ve only heard the church’s side so far in our discussion today, we’re seeing a consensus forming between the leaders of the church—apart from me—and the town. The reason you haven’t heard from Dr. Koga today is that Dancer negotiated with him beforehand, as she did with me. Unlike with me, however, with him she was successful.
“After the accident with Guide, I met with Dr. Koga, leader of the former radical faction, and we spoke after this from time to time. I promised to try to persuade Patron and the other staff members to allow as many as possible of the former young radicals to participate in the new church.
“With the Somersault, Patron and Guide had broken off their relationship with the church. Ten years later they returned from hell and wanted to start a new movement. Patron’s first concept of the new movement was to include only p
eople who had had nothing to do with the first church. Until he was kidnapped, that was Guide’s idea as well. But that just shouldn’t be done, in my opinion.
“The former radical faction may have been split over the meaning of the Somersault, but after they were forced out of the church by official and police pressure, they continued to keep their promises. They’re also a group that has the power to actually get things moving, so I don’t think it’s very bright to exclude them when you’re trying to start over.
“Of course I wish they’d never done something as awful as kill Guide. They knew Patron had risen from hell and was starting a new movement, so in order to get a handle on what was going on, wasn’t it only natural for them to want to speak to the person they had had the deepest relationship with—Guide? Dancer hinted that one part of the former radical faction was planning from the very start to get revenge on him and had no thought of reconciling. But is that really true?
“If they were just after revenge, why did they wait ten years? And why target Guide instead of Patron, the one really responsible for the Somersault? Didn’t the cruel laughter we heard when Guide refused to let members of the former radical faction participate in Patron’s new movement ring with the sound of their despair?
“I beg of you, Patron. Please give the people who killed Guide—who felt driven into a corner, full of despair, and who never intended to kill him—a chance to repent. Only one person can do that: you.”
Ikuo stood up, walked over to Patron, and knelt before him. He spoke in a sorrowful, youthful voice.
“Patron, please. Tell me and those people what God says. No matter what it is, tell us what God really wants. I’ve talked with them, and I know they’re hoping for the same thing I am.”
Ogi watched as Patron reached out a hand, as if to lay it on Ikuo’s head or shoulder, but halted in midair. In this noncommittal stance, Patron spoke to Ikuo.
“In order to do that, I first have to regain the power to hear God’s voice. And without Guide’s help! Only if I’m able to do that will I be able to transmit anything of any consequence. At present all I can do is seek to have all the members of the former radical faction, the ones you were in touch with at the time of the memorial service, join our church here in its new home. And to have this communicated to them. I think Dr. Koga would agree with this.”
Ikuo looked moved by Patron’s words, but Dancer was indignant. Before either of them could say anything, though, Kizu spoke up.
“Patron, among this group you’re thinking of having join the movement are the people who held Guide prisoner and tortured him, the ones who made him collapse and die. The main two perpetrators are in custody, but the ones who surrounded them and Guide didn’t lift a finger to stop it, did they? I find what Dancer says very convincing.”
“I want even the two who are in jail to return to the church as soon as they’re released,” Patron said. “That’s what I hope for. Isn’t it precisely because they’re the ones who killed Guide that they must return to us?” Patron opened his dark eyes wide, looking even more like a bird as he fixed them on Kizu.
“Guide didn’t deserve what they did to him. The power of the state is judging their guilt on one level, and revealed in the light of the new church we are creating, they are covered in the vile and abominable sin of their actions. But we couldn’t be happier, could we, if, as these souls lift their faces from the dark abyss, the light reflected in their eyes is the light of our church?”
Patron stood up and bid the kneeling Ikuo to stand up as well. Ogi watched with a softened heart as Patron grew calm and gentle as he turned to Dancer. As everyone else rose, the woman named Satchan, widow of the founder of the church that had arisen here only to disappear, addressed Patron.
“I feel I understand what you mean when you keep saying you’ve been in hell for the last decade,” she said. “I think about how wonderful it would be if my husband, who created the Church of the Flaming Green Tree, could have returned once more—as you have done. Ever since our church broke up, a handful of friends and I have kept running the Farm, and since most of the land and equipment has been dormant it would make me very happy if you could find a use for it.”
Patron didn’t respond aloud, but he bowed his head respectfully to her. Morio, though, who had been sitting beside Ms. Tachibana and paying close attention to the conversation, walked over to stand between Patron and Satchan and began applauding, as enthusiastically as if applauding a violin soloist and her piano accompanist on an outstanding performance. That sound, with its gentle feeling of oneness, washed over everyone and reverberated throughout the chapel.
20: The Quiet Women
1
After the meeting, Kizu was still worried about how the people of Maki Town would receive the church members. When he went to the teachers’ office of the junior high school to consult with them about the art school he wanted to open, he couldn’t help but raise these concerns after the preliminary pleasantries were over.
“It’s strange for me to try to speak objectively about this, since I’m one of those who moved here with the new church, but I’m quite surprised at how readily the townspeople have accepted the idea of our followers—including the former so-called radical faction—coming here. I would have anticipated a stubborn conservative opposition, but everyone seems quite flexible.”
The junior high art teacher was cautiously silent, but Asa-san, who’d accompanied Kizu, spoke up confidently.
“The people here don’t have the generosity to debate with those who oppose them in order to arrive at a compromise. But don’t you find the same thing happening in cities? The reason the town authorities and the group opposing you have basically consented is because Ogi was so efficient in passing around a list of names and explaining about the people who’ll be coming here. If I’m correct, there’ll be one men’s group and one women’s group. The men’s group is the one you speak of. There are twenty-five people altogether, and though it’s true they’re members of the former radical faction, its core will be a level-headed group led by Dr. Koga. Dancer said that after Guide’s death the more proactive group washed its hands of the church and wouldn’t respond even if Patron invited them to join. The other group coming is a woman’s group called the Quiet Women, as I recall. Why would anybody oppose them?
“Even so, after our meeting in the chapel the head of the town council told me that once this initial move is complete he wants to hold on-the-spot inspections. I told him in no uncertain terms that inspections would violate human rights. Just yesterday in the Old Town, the antichurch faction pasted up new handbills and announced excitedly how they’d won a victory by excluding the more extreme elements in the church from moving in, but that they mustn’t let down their guard.”
Kizu questioned Ikuo once more about this and was told that with Patron’s lenient policy they expected a variety of people to join them. But when they sent out inquiries, many people turned them down.
“Maybe this is a good-sized group to start out with,” Kizu said, encouraging the depressed Ikuo. “Even if it stays small, it’s important to have the more moderate people involved.”
“The local authorities say they want to keep a watch over any radical elements in the church,” Ikuo said, “but I’m more worried about the opposite—that now we’ve finally started to get things rolling the church will turn into an old ladies’ club.”
Ikuo’s sarcastic remarks may have been a bit exaggerated, but they weren’t unfounded. Though they might be hiding some militant attitudes, the first former radical members that were coming were, it was fair to say, a group that was completely into repentance at the end of the world. Rather than theoretical researchers, they were made up of the older experimental scientists who, even at the Izu Research Institute, had dubbed themselves the Technicians.
As for the old ladies’ club, as Ikuo called them, actually he wasn’t too far off the mark. It was made up of about half of the women Kizu had visited in their commune along the
Odakyu Line, and though they had lived together with their children there, only the women would be moving to this new location. When he heard that the women would be occupying the monastery that surrounded the inner garden, Kizu had naively assumed that this was a temporary arrangement until the children joined them. But that wasn’t the case.
Kizu had a chance to talk directly with the women in the church’s new office, set up in the annex to the chapel, built outside the cylindrical building itself but separate from the monastery. That afternoon, after he’d finished having an early lunch in the cafeteria—which they’d constructed by tearing down the walls between three smaller rooms—Kizu popped his head into the office, expecting to find Ikuo but finding Ogi and Dancer instead, welcoming some women Kizu remembered seeing before.
Among them was Mrs. Shigeno, the widow of the hospital director and donor of the property, who greeted Kizu very pleasantly. “How was your lunch in the cafeteria? I’m sure it wasn’t anything like the faculty dining room in your U.S. university, though I daresay it compared favorably to student cafeterias over there.”
“It was very nice,” Kizu said. “There isn’t much difference between the faculty dining room and the student cafeteria in America.”
“I’m happy to hear you liked it. We’ll be the ones in charge of the church’s cafeteria from now on.”
As he talked with her, memories came back to Kizu of the greenhouse where they had been packing lilies into boxes and of the memorial service in his apartment’s basement. A vivid memory came to him of Mrs. Shigeno speaking at the service, and he clearly remembered the other two women with her from the greenhouse. One of them was Ms. Takada, the young woman with the skin covering one of her eyes; the other was one of the leaders during the prayer time at the greenhouse, a Ms. Oyama.
Vaguely aware that Kizu might already know them, Dancer still went ahead and introduced each woman in turn. She explained that Kizu had been a longtime art educator in the United States, despite the fact that when he had visited their commune he’d given them his business card, and Mrs. Shigeno, in the way she had addressed him now, was obviously aware of his background.