by Kenzaburo Oe
“At first we played with the windows shut,” Morio said, “but then we opened them.”
“So we must have heard the last half,” Dancer said.
“The Quiet Women requested that at the morning meetings we just let the piano sound all over the Hollow, without using any speakers,” Ikuo said. “Morio, why don’t you go back to Patron’s place with your sister and tell him the acoustics in the chapel are fine. And then take a rest; you’ve worked hard today.”
“Can I take back all the sheet music?” Morio asked.
“Of course. And thank you.”
2
After Ms. Tachibana and her brother left, the others all sat down around Kizu, who’d stayed rooted to his chair, and gazed up again at the triptych. Kizu could feel them holding back any comments on the painting. A faint whiff of turpentine wafted toward them.
Dancer was the first to speak.
“In the right part of the painting, in the upper right corner, do you see that strangely balanced girl wearing tights? I think Ogi’s the only one I need to explain this to, but this young lady—young girl, really—is modeled on me. That’s how old I was when I met Professor Kizu and Ikuo. If I hadn’t encountered Ikuo, and Professor Kizu hadn’t observed it all, I wouldn’t be here with you today.
“The events of that day long ago threw me off track of being a normal girl, so I didn’t care anymore that I wasn’t a quote-unquote average Japanese. Which makes me all the happier that that memorable day has become part of the painting.”
Ikuo sat there in a depressed silence. Ogi naturally couldn’t grasp the whole context, so Kizu explained.
“Dancer, in tights there,” he said, “and Ikuo, when he was a young boy, had a bit of a collision that I witnessed. A long time after that, when I met Ikuo, I remembered what had happened, and that led to our getting in touch with Dancer. Through this we got to know Patron and finally ended up moving here.”
“Ogi needs a little more explanation than that,” Dancer said. “There was an awards ceremony sponsored by a newspaper, and as one of the attractions I was hired to dance while a children’s choir sang. I put on my costume and was about to appear onstage when I got entangled in one of Ikuo’s creations. He was one of the candidates for an award. It went right up inside my little skirt, so I was sort of hanging there in midair, hurt and embarrassed, and the boy glared at me with his puppy-dog eyes and I wondered how angry he’d be if the model was wrecked.
“The way I was standing was quite bizarre, a much harder pose to hold than a plié, but child though I was I decided to tough it out. We were backstage, but it made me wish we were out on stage, under the spotlights.
“This painful yet wonderful situation was resolved when Ikuo threw his model on the floor and destroyed it, but I was left with regrets. Someday, I thought, I’d like to reenact that scene in front of an audience. I think that was the reason I continued dancing even after we moved to Hokkaido.
“After I moved to Tokyo, and Patron and Guide began looking after me, I had the feeling that eccentric people like them would understand my idea. That’s the reason I continued working in Patron’s office. When Professor Kizu showed up with Ikuo I was certainly surprised, but happy too. I felt sure that my premonition was entirely correct—that being with Patron and Guide would open up a path for me. With Guide by his side helping out, Patron’s power had made my dreams come true.… And now in this triptych Professor Kizu has painted the day it all began.”
Dancer stopped speaking and held her left hand, as if pushing against something heavy, out toward the small painting on the right side of the triptych. Everyone’s eyes were drawn upward. Only Ikuo, after looking, turned his large, sunken eyes toward the nearby window and the trembling oak leaves with the sun shining through them.
“I’d heard from the young boy what that day meant to him,” Kizu said, “but this is the first time I’ve heard what was going on in the young girl’s mind. I was just an outside observer, but it really was a special event, wasn’t it.… You’ve been able to meet again with Ikuo, but what do you think—would we be able to prepare a stage for you to use to finally express yourself the way you’d like?”
“I think you and Ikuo have already begun to do this for me,” Dancer replied. “I’m an adult now, and I don’t fantasize about being in the spotlight anymore. I just want to walk, once more, toward that great light I saw as a child.
“Now that you’ve recovered from your illness, Professor, I know you’re doing everything you can to move in that direction—the summer conference, that is, that Ikuo’s working so hard for. I have a feeling that Ikuo’s going to make that event into something quite incredible. Patron’s anticipating this, trying to figure out exactly where he stands. I don’t think Ikuo’s plans for the conference are entirely set, but they’ll definitely include the Fireflies, right? And won’t the Quiet Women and the Technicians be in the mix as well?
“Even with the way you’ve built up the Fireflies, Ikuo, I don’t think you’ll be able to redo the Church of the New Man according to your own color scheme. Which means we have something quite extraordinary to look forward to, but what it is no one can say. So there’s something I’d like to say to you, Ikuo, in front of everybody here.
“Ogi and I and the church office will do whatever we can to help you carry out your plans for the summer conference. We’re in charge of taking care of all those who’ll be attending, which includes staying in close touch with the Kansai headquarters, dealing with the media, negotiating with the town, consulting with the police about security—we’re handling all of that. So even with the Fireflies on your side you won’t succeed without our help. If Patron asks us to oppose your unilateral activities, we already have enough participants that you’ll be expelled from the Church of the New Man. As long as you understand this, we’ll help you.”
Ikuo bowed his large head, the shadows of the setting sun etching the tension on his darkly chiseled face. Very slowly he opened his mouth, only to say a few words. “I’m not planning anything with the Fireflies.”
“We don’t know what Patron’s planning,” Dancer shot back, “so we need to stay receptive, right?”
“That’s right,” Ikuo said.
“But you have found out more than anyone else about the Technicians and the Quiet Women. And you’ve been giving a lot of thought about how to deal with them, correct? I only hope you’re not thinking of some stupid plan such as throwing your weight behind one side, or getting the two powers to compromise their positions. That’s why I’m talking about your plans. I’m only going to say this once. That’s where we stand.”
Dancer’s lips were slightly open in her flushed face. Ogi was silent, but his expression showed he agreed. Kizu was impressed by Dancer’s frankness, though he detected a hole in her logic.
“I understand Dancer’s intention of supporting Ikuo without taking sides with either the Technicians or the Quiet Women,” Kizu said. “And I’m sure Ikuo is encouraged by this. But what would you do if, say, Patron agrees with one of these sects and throws his support behind them?”
Ikuo glared at Kizu, his eyes fairly burning. “You really think that’s why he proclaimed his Church of the New Man?” Ikuo asked.
Just then Dr. Koga came in, banging the door shut behind him. While this conversation had been going on, the breeze from the lake had grown chilly, so Ogi went over to close the oblong windows. The windows weren’t latched, so they each made two separate sounds as they shut, making a nice airtight seal.
In his usual youthful way Dr. Koga was wearing a T-shirt, one of the shirts Mayumi made to sell at the summer conference that had a print on it of Kizu’s sketch in red and yellow of the wound in Patron’s side. Dr. Koga strode right over to the painting on the wall, looked up at it, and then turned to express congratulations to the artist.
“It’s amazing how well you were able to complete it, even though you’re still recovering. I noticed the Technicians had a satisfied look on their faces after they
helped hang it up.”
“Every time they set up some new equipment somewhere—be it the Hollow or the Farm—they think they’re racking up points, don’t they?” Dancer’s face was still flushed, but her voice was calm. “It makes me wonder whether they think they can take charge of everything.”
“It’s the democratic way, though, isn’t it, for people to step to the plate and take responsibility?” Dr. Koga said, parrying her remarks. “And you have to admit it’s nice they’re happy about it. Professor Kizu, I’m not up on art very much, but isn’t this a rather ambiguous design?”
“Before we hung it on the wall, Mrs. Shigeno and Ms. Takada came to see it,” Ikuo said. “The Quiet Women seem rather cautious in giving their opinion.”
“What about Patron?’
“When he went to the studio to see it before it was completed,” Dancer replied, “he said that the painting is the starting point of how we’re going to create the Church of the New Man.”
“Before long we’ll need to have you paint another triptych for this wall, Professor,” Dr. Koga said. “One that looks back happily on how the Church of the New Man was built.”
“You’re pretty optimistic sometimes, aren’t you, Doctor?” was all Kizu could say.
“I don’t know, it just makes me excited seeing people get together like this and get going,” Dr. Koga said. “The enthusiasm of the religious/social movement we had at the research institute is still with me, I suppose. I know this is the exact opposite, though—I guess I was brainwashed in Izu.”
“What you’re saying is that Guide was quite the educator,” Kizu said.
“He certainly was. But don’t forget Patron’s role. Sometimes he looks like he’s not doing anything, but don’t be fooled into thinking he’s passive. Even now that’s true, right, Ikuo? In your own preparations for the summer conference, and in what the Technicians and the Quiet Women are doing, you’re all working together for Patron’s new church, aren’t you?”
“For me, too, everything depends on how Patron wants things to develop,” Ikuo said, sounding much older than Dr. Koga.
“I’m sure Patron has an idea of how the Technicians and Quiet Women should fit in and what roles they should play, but I’ll have to admit that when I compare those two sects there’re some things I just don’t understand,” Dr. Koga said. “What do you think about the secrecy the Quiet Women have in regards to the Technicians? I don’t want to be one-sided in my criticism here, though; the Technicians have been having their own closed meetings to decide what tack they’re going to take.”
“Since last week Ms. Oyama has asked me not to attend the Quiet Women’s prayer meetings,” Ikuo said. “Including playing the piano. I find it encouraging, though, to see how excited they are about the conference. The Quiet Women want to meet the whole lot coming from the Kansai headquarters only after they’re good and ready. But isn’t that a natural attitude to take? The Technicians feel the same way.”
“Along with your overall preparations for the conference, I imagine that you and the Fireflies are laying out some plans of your own?” Dr. Koga asked. “Still, I’d have to say you’ve been dealing fairly with both the Quiet Women and the Technicians. The Technicians trust you, at least.”
“The Quiet Women trust him, too—according to Ms. Tachibana,” Dancer put in.
“That being the case, I hope you’ll reveal all the information you get to us,” Dr. Koga said. “How about it, Professor Kizu? Apart from any sects in the church, wouldn’t you say older fellows like us are the church elders? Not that we’ll be doing anything unilateral either. We’ll clear everything with the office first, of course.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Kizu replied, and then asked, “I was wondering, when you’re treating Patron does he talk about whether he sees the Fireflies as—to use your terminology—a third sect in the church?”
“I think the Somersault is still critical to Patron,” Dr. Koga said. “On principle he’s doesn’t want to undo his previous apostasy by apostatizing again. Which means his stance toward building this new church should be quite simple, shouldn’t it? This new church will be a church of the Christian Godthe-Father, right? With Patron insisting he’s an antichrist, there’s really no outward position for him in the church.
“In building up this Church of the New Man, he’s resigned to the fact that he himself is an Old Man. So for him it’s actually a positive sign for the church to be run by many different sects. Competition between different sects will help it develop into a multifaceted entity. He’ll be watching all this from the sidelines, but not taking a leadership role.
“Getting back to your question, Patron told me that when he and Ikuo talked, Ikuo came to an understanding of Patron’s position and said he’ll support Patron’s relativistic way of doing things while they build up the new church. Patron told me, quite happily, that Ikuo said he wants to work so Patron can be unencumbered.”
“I don’t remember being so high-and-mighty in the way I phrased it,” Ikuo said, “but basically that’s what I said. I’ve wanted to speak with Patron for a long time, so I spoke directly to him. I have no doubt whatsoever that he was in face-to-face communication with something very special—God, if you will. I only met Patron for the first time after the Somersault, but I feel more and more sure of this every time I talk with him. But he ended up making a fool of this very transcendental partner he was so deeply tied to. And now he’s building a new church, without having erased the Somersault, and I find that intriguing. So people could understand where’s he coming from, he gave himself the title of antichrist. It’s a refreshing attitude.
“You’d better believe that when Patron talks about this in his sermon at the summer conference, it is going to turn off those who followed him from before the Somersault. There’ll be a lot of people coming from the outside, the media included, and I’ll bet there’ll be some reporters who’ll mock him just as they did at the Somersault, calling it all antichrist syncretism or something. Still, I find a reality in him as a religious figure, a reality that includes the feeling that—before much longer—he’s going to find himself in a bind all over again. He’s an extraordinary person. And basically I think that the Quiet Women and Technicians sense the same thing. At the summer conference it’ll be those people who really believe that the new church will produce New Men who will get the ball rolling. Isn’t this exactly what Patron’s hoping for?”
After Ikuo finished his deliberate explanation, Kizu felt a rush of pride. Dr. Koga turned his deep set, darkly shaded eyes, with a glint of the impish in them, toward Kizu and said, “Your painting predicts this new relationship between Patron and Ikuo. I can’t think of anything better to have hanging in our chapel!”
3
After the “miracle” of his cancer disappearing, and after having completed the triptych, Kizu became aware of a harsh reality: He had a massive amount of time left to live. He still remembered how, after he was told his cancer was back, he had felt the richness of each and every moment. But what he felt now was something else again, a complete powerlessness in the face of all this newfound time. He’d felt the same thing on sleepless nights, but this was much more overwhelming. The sense of confusion hit him most in the early morning and late at night.
In the mornings, the sound of birds chirping from behind the house was enough to wake him. And at night he felt oppressed even more when he’d awake soon after going to bed. Though he knew it was a strange reaction, he found that at times like these the most appropriate attitude was to pretend he was already dead.
In the early morning all he had to do was stay in bed, half propped up, for two or three hours and wait for the first stirrings of activity in the monastery across the lake. The retired diplomat who’d designed his bed might have spent the early hours of each day in much the same way, he mused. When there were still four or five hours left till dawn, though, Kizu fell into a space where he couldn’t just leave everything up to the passage of time.
<
br /> He started going to bed early, as the church members in the Hollow were wont to do, except when he’d sat awake until late reading a critical work on Dante, donated to the junior high by the later Brother Gii, which he’d borrowed from Asa-san.
For times like these, when he went to bed late and woke up after sleeping only a short while, he kept the shutters open, of course, but also a space between the curtains so he might gaze out at the lake right after awakening. When he woke up he’d take the conductor’s baton the former diplomat had used to practice with, spread the curtains wider apart, and spend his time gazing at the chapel and monastery on the far shore.
Ever since the night when he and Ikuo had talked for hours, Kizu had a special affection for moonlit scenery, but even on moonless nights the chapel and monastery floated up faintly in the lamplight, and he found it enjoyable to drink in this scene with the eyes of an artist.
This particular evening, Kizu woke up in the middle of the night, checking the long, narrow fluorescent clock face sunken in the headboard of the bed, itself another leftover of the late owner. He propped himself on one elbow and pushed the curtains aside to get the widest possible view of the dark scene outside.
A light was on in the chapel across the lake, and something was moving inside. Kizu peered intently through the two oblong windows with their glass slightly out of alignment. He saw shadows of a person moving up and down. Kizu remembered that stepladders had been placed there; the shadows seemed to climb up, then down, then move the ladder, then climb up again. The shadows were of two people merging together, only to break apart.
Kizu’s heart beat violently. Was it two people about to hang themselves? One of them helping the other get to the proper height to do the job, then once the first person was dangling from the rope the second person follows suit? Is that what was going on? The movements seemed furtive yet bold.