Light and Darkness

by Sōseki Natsume

  Inside the rattling streetcar Tsuda glanced at his watch and wondered if even now, late as he was, he might still be too early for his presumptuous guest. Assuming that was so, he considered frustrating Kobayashi’s inflexible expectations a little more by spending some time browsing in the night shops.

  When he alighted from the trolley at a stop on the Ginza, the pell-mell flashing of lights all around him was more than adequate to convey dizzyingly the frenetic activity of the capital of the night. Standing there, he debated whether to spend ten minutes or so wandering among the lights before turning down the side street toward his destination. However, as he surveyed his surroundings, turning away from the evening paper a newsboy thrust in his face, he received a sudden shock.

  The man whom he had assumed by this time would be tired to death of waiting was standing just across the street. Because he was standing at the far corner of the intersection where Tsuda had alighted, their sightlines fortunately didn’t intersect, and the night and the crowds and the flashing lights helped prevent Kobayashi from identifying him. Moreover, he was facing away, engaged in conversation with a young man Tsuda didn’t recognize. As only two-thirds of the youth’s face and perhaps one-third of Kobayashi’s were visible from where he stood, he was able to observe them attentively with virtually no risk of revealing himself. Their eyes never strayed. They were standing face to face, and as Tsuda continued to watch he could see clearly from their attitudes that they were discussing something serious.

  There was a wall just behind them, but unfortunately it was windowless so there was no light on them. Just then, however, an automobile turned the corner noisily from the south and both men were caught in its large headlights. For the first time Tsuda was able to make out the young man’s features plainly. He was struck by a wan complexion and unkempt hair that looked uncut for months and hung from his peaked cap down both sides of his face. As the car passed, Tsuda turned smartly around and walked off in the opposite direction.

  He had nothing in mind to do. The brightly lit shops were cosmopolitan and beautiful, but that was all. He discovered nothing complex about their appeal except the transformation in the merchandise as the business changed from one to the next. There were nonetheless sights that pleased his eye wherever he looked. When he came upon a stylish necktie displayed in front of a foreign haberdashery he went inside, selected the item he thought he wanted, and turned it over in his hands.

  When he felt he had probably taken long enough, he retraced his steps. Not surprisingly, Kobayashi and his companion were no longer to be seen. He quickened his step a little. From the window of the establishment he had chosen, warm light was spilling into the street. The window was high in the brick wall of the building, and because the band of light that issued from it merged with the night indirectly, filtered through a patterned, yoke-yellow awning, Tsuda, looking up as he passed, imagined a serene dining room appointed with a gas fireplace.

  Reposing in what might be described as dignified silence at the far end of a long block, the restaurant wasn’t large. Tsuda had only recently learned about it. Except for the fact that he had dined there four or five times, having heard from his friend that the proprietor had served as cook for many years to an attaché at the Japanese embassy in France, he had no reason for inviting Kobayashi there.

  Pushing through the doors resolutely, he stepped inside. As expected, Kobayashi was waiting. Looking a little at a loss for what to do with himself, he was peering gravely at what must have been the evening paper.

  [ 156 ]

  LOOKING UP, he glanced quickly toward the entrance and then quickly lowered his eyes to the paper again. Tsuda was obliged to approach the table in silence and was the first to speak.

  “Apologies. Been here long?”

  Kobayashi finally folded his paper.

  “You must have a watch.”

  Tsuda refrained on purpose from taking out his watch. Kobayashi turned and glanced behind him at the large clock hanging on the wall. The hands had moved forty minutes past the appointed hour.

  “Actually, I just got here myself.”

  They sat down facing each other. As only two other tables were occupied, both by men accompanied by women who were dressed for the evening, the restaurant was unusually quiet. The gas stove burning just a few feet away suffused the air of the elegantly appointed room, which tended to shades of white, with a comfortable warmth.

  Tsuda was visited by an odd recollection. In his mind’s eye he saw with perfect clarity the seedy bar he had ended up in thanks to Kobayashi. It gave him a certain satisfaction to think that this time he had invited his companion of that evening to a restaurant like this.

  “What do you think? It’s an attractive place, isn’t it?”

  Kobayashi looked around as if he were noticing for the first time.

  “Not bad—at least there doesn’t seem to be a detective here.”

  “No, but there are some beautiful women.”

  Abruptly, Kobayashi raised his voice.

  “Are they geisha or what?”

  Tsuda was a little embarrassed.

  “Don’t be an idiot!” he scolded.

  “Well they damn well could be. The world is chock full of surprises you’d never imagine.”

  Tsuda lowered his voice further.

  “A geisha would never dress that way.”

  “Is that right? If you say so—a rube like me doesn’t understand that sort of distinction. If I see someone in a pretty kimono, I assume she must be a geisha.”

  “Sarcastic as usual.”

  Tsuda allowed his annoyance to show. Kobayashi was unfazed.

  “I wasn’t being sarcastic. Being poor has blinded me to stufflike that. I was just speaking my mind honestly.”

  “Fine.”

  “Even if it isn’t, it’ll have to do. But let me ask you how it really is.”

  “What?”

  “Is there really that much difference between a so-called lady and a geisha?”

  Tsuda had to demonstrate to his companion, who was a masterly dissembler, that he was beyond replying in earnest as though he were a child. At the same time, somehow or other, he wanted to land a punch that Kobayashi would feel. But he refrained. More accurately, the words he needed eluded him.

  “You must be joking!”

  “I’m serious!” Lifting his eyes, Kobayashi stole a look at Tsuda’s face. Tsuda noticed, and though he abruptly perceived that his companion purposed saying something more, he was too clever not to intervene in the natural course of the conversation. Certainly he possessed the skill necessary to change the subject, but somehow he lacked the courage to slip away as though he were oblivious. In the end, he knew, Kobayashi would succeed in ensnaring him. He spoke.

  “How’s the food?”

  “Pretty much like everywhere else. To someone like me with an unrefined palate.”

  “It’s no good?”

  “No, it’s tasty.”

  “Glad to hear that. Since the proprietor does the cooking himself, it should be a little better than elsewhere.”

  “No matter how good the proprietor is, he’s no match for taste buds like mine. I’ll bring him to tears.”

  “As long as it tastes good to you.”

  “You could say that. But if I told the cook it’s no better than a joint where I can eat for ten sen a dish, he’d be pretty unhappy.”

  All Tsuda could do was force a smile. Kobayashi went on by himself.

  “The state I’m in, I don’t have the luxury of carrying on like a damn connoisseur—it’s good because it’s French, it’s bad because it’s English, whatever. If I can gag it down it’s good, and that’s about it.”

  “But that means you lose any sense of what makes something good.”

  “On the contrary, it’s clear to me. It’s good because I’m hungry. No other logic need apply.”

  Once again Tsuda was left with nothing to say. But as the silence between them lengthened and began to oppress him, he open
ed his mouth to speak again, feeling he had no choice, and was preempted by Kobayashi.

  [ 157 ]

  “TO SOMEONE discriminating like you, maybe a philistine like me is worthy of contempt in every way. I expect I deserve your contempt. But I also have quite a lot to say about that. If I’m thick as a plank, it isn’t necessarily because I was born that way. Give me some stinking time. Give me some stinking money. Then let’s see what sort of person takes his place among you royals.”

  By now Kobayashi was already a little drunk. There was something about his fervor, neither entirely serious nor joking, that suggested he was trying to borrow the power of the alcohol to help him liberate pent-up feelings. As Tsuda was left with little choice but to affirm his words at their face value, he felt obliged to fall into step alongside his companion.

  “I think that’s exactly right. Which is why I sympathize with you. You must know that. Otherwise I’d hardly go to the trouble of inviting you out to dinner before you leave for Korea.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “No, I’m serious. Just the other day I was explaining to O-Nobu how I feel.”

  A glimmer of mistrust flashed in Kobayashi’s eyes.

  “You don’t say? Apologizing for me to Mrs. T? It appears a little of the kindness you used to have is still in you. But I wonder—what did the missus have to say?”

  Without answering, Tsuda reached inside his kimono. Observing the gesture, Kobayashi spoke again as if to halt him.

  “Aha! So you were obliged to defend me. I thought it was odd.”

  Tsuda withdrew his hand. Intending to say “This is O-Nobu’s reply” as he handed over the money he had brought along in a pretty package, he hesitated. Instead, he returned the conversation to where it had been.

  “It seems we’re shaped by our circumstances.”

  “I’d say by the latitude we enjoy.”

  Tsuda didn’t protest.

  “I agree. That, too.”

  “From the day I was born until this minute, I’ve lived my life without an inch of wiggle room. I don’t even know the meaning of latitude; how do you think that makes me different from someone who’s been raised with all the freedom in the world to indulge himself?”

  Tsuda smiled thinly. Kobayashi was grimly serious.

  “There’s no need to think. We’re sitting right here. You and I. We need only compare ourselves to see the different effects of a life characterized by latitude on one hand and desperation on the other.”

  Tsuda believed what he was saying to an extent. He also felt it was pointless to be listening to these old complaints, but Kobayashi wouldn’t let it go.

  “Consider this. You hold me in contempt; not only you, so does your missus, so does everyone—wait. I have more to say—that’s a fact, you and I both know it. It’s just as I said it was before. But there’s one thing that neither you nor your wife understands. It’s not the sort of thing that mentioning at this late date will affect our relationship, so maybe there’s no point in bringing it up; it’s just that if I go off to Korea, I may never have an occasion to see you again while I’m alive.”

  Kobayashi appeared to have worked himself up to a considerable pitch, but then he subjoined honestly, “Of course knowing me, I might find when I get to Korea that I can’t stand it and come right back,” which elicited from Tsuda an involuntary laugh.

  Kobayashi appeared to flag momentarily but recovered himself quickly.

  “Anyway, I think you should hear this because it might be of use in the future. The truth is, just as you hold me in contempt, I have contempt for you.”

  “I know that.”

  “You don’t. You may recognize the effect of my contempt, but neither you nor your wife understands what it’s based on. So in return for your kindness this evening, and as a farewell from me, I’d like to explain. Fair enough?”

  “Fine.”

  “Even if it isn’t, without a penny to my name it’s all I have to leave you, so it’ll damn well have to do.”

  “I said fine.”

  “So you’ll hear me out? If you will, I’ll say what I have to say. With a palate as unrefined as mine I can’t taste any difference between this French food and what we had at that sleazy bar I got into trouble for inviting you to. To someone like me, they taste equally good. I know you disdain me for that. But the truth is, I take pride in that very fact, and I disdain you for disdaining me. I wonder if you take my point. Think about it in this regard: Which of us is constrained and which of us is free? Which is happy and which feels his hands are tied? Which is tranquil and which one wavers? As I see it, you’re always unsteady on your legs. You can’t find your courage. You’ll go to any length to avoid what displeases you, and you gallop after whatever you want. And why is that? There is no why; it’s because you’re free to. You enjoy the luxury of picking and choosing because you have the latitude. You’re never pushed into a tight corner as I am, so it never occurs to you to thumb your nose at the world.”

  Tsuda was accustomed to dismissing his companion. But he could hardly refuse to accept what was fact. There was no mistaking that he was no match for Kobayashi where boldness was concerned, or audacity for that matter.

  [ 158 ]

  BUT THERE was more to come of Kobayashi’s lecture. Following a long look of appraisal at Tsuda, he returned suddenly in an unexpected leap to an earlier subject. This was precisely the issue that had surfaced briefly here and there at the beginning of their conversation, only to be submerged beneath the vigor of what followed.

  “I know that what I’m saying is getting through to you. But it seems you’re not ready to accept it. You’re caught in a contradiction. And I know why. First of all it troubles the hell out of you as a so-called wise man that the person doing the talking has no rank or social standing, no assets and no steady job. If this were coming from Mrs. Yoshikawa or someone like that, you’d sit up and take notice no matter how idiotic it was. And no, I’m not just feeling sorry for myself; that’s an incontestable fact. There’s something you need to appreciate—I’m able to say all these things because I’m who I am. You need to understand that neither your uncle Fujii nor Mrs. T would know anything about this. Why? Because no matter how poor he may be, Sensei has never had to lick the dregs the way I have. Much less the rest of your gang with their easy lives.”

  Tsuda wasn’t certain who was included in “the rest of his gang.” His only thought was that it must refer to Madam Yoshikawa and the Okamotos. But Kobayashi moved briskly on without affording him the time to frame such a question.

  “In the second place, the suggestion I just made—maybe it was advice or an admonition or just simple knowledge, it doesn’t really matter—at any rate what I’ve been saying hasn’t made you feel it was anything you had to pay attention to. Your mind understands, but in your heart you’re not persuaded; that’s how you are right now. We could always blame it on the abyss that separates us and forget about it, but my objective is to see if I can’t compel you to pay attention, you follow me? It turns out the gap created by circumstances and social position isn’t so very important. The truth is that ten out of ten people repeat the same experiences in different forms. To put it even more plainly, I’m me and I see things in the way that’s most urgent for me to see them; you’re you and you see with an eye that’s most appropriate for you. And that’s really the extent of the difference between us. When someone in privileged circumstances gets a bit bewildered or stymied or maybe stumbles, the light he sees things in will change. But seeing things in a different light doesn’t mean he’s changed his vantage point. In other words, all I’m saying is the day will come when you’ll have occasion to recall what I’m telling you now.”

  “I’ll be careful to remember.”

  “You do that, I guarantee you the time will come when you’ll think back on it.”

  “Fair enough—I get it.”

  “The funny thing is, whether you think you get it or not won’t make any difference.”

/>   With these words Kobayashi abruptly broke into laughter. Tsuda had no idea why. Before he was asked, Kobayashi explained.

  “Let’s say the moment arrives when you see that I’m right. Will you be able to yell shazam! and transform on the spot? Will you be able to transform into me as I am now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The hell you don’t. You know perfectly well that you won’t. I’m not boasting; I had to lock myself in a monk’s cell to get where I am now. I may be something of a dunce, but I can tell you I’ve paid for this with my own lifeblood.”

  Kobayashi’s self-satisfaction irked Tsuda. What can he have paid for with his sickly whoreson’s blood? He allowed his contempt to shadow his countenance as he spoke.

  “Then why bother to tell me this? You’re saying even if I bear it in mind, it won’t do me any good when I need it.”

  “Of course it won’t. Still, it’s better to hear it.”

  “Better not to.”

  Kobayashi leaned back in his chair as though happily and laughed again.

  “Bravo. You’re showing your true colors now just as I hoped you would.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m just stating a fact. Let me spell it out for you. When you get driven into a corner with nowhere to go, you’ll remember my words. You’ll remember, but you won’t be able to act on them. That’s when you’ll feel it would have been better not to have listened at all.”

  “To hell with you! What’s the point of all that?”

  “No point—it’s at that moment that I’ll finally have my revenge for your contempt.”

  Tsuda spoke more calmly.

  “You feel that hostile to me?”

  “How can you say that? Hostility? I have only the best of intentions where you’re concerned. But the fact remains, doesn’t it, that you hold me in contempt. And when I point out conversely that there are reasons for me to have contempt for you as well, you settle back on your high and mighty throne and ignore me. Words are useless with you; you challenge me to have at you in a real battle, so what choice do I have but engaging you and doing the best I can to win?”