by Kōbō Abe
I DON’T mind telling the conclusion of my analysis first. It was sexual desire. I wonder, did you laugh? It was a somewhat commonplace conclusion, considering all the showy thinking leading up to it. Realizing this motive, I had some clue as to what was going on. But since this conclusion was like an elementary algebraic platitude, agreeing too readily without proof was more than I could bear. It would appear that self-respect could live in surprising compatibility with shame, considering their inconsistency.
Well, there is not much left to this third notebook. There was no point in being concerned with only the test run of the mask. But however tedious, I think it would be best to tell you what the grounds were: that the purest expenditure of freedom is actually the satisfaction of sexual desires. The expenditure of freedom, however pure, has no value in itself; value is rather in the production of freedom. I did not claim that my logic was faultless, but my actions on the following day were all inspired by this sexual desire, and I thought I had to be honest with myself, just as I expected fair judgment of you.
Since I was trying not to be unkind, it was not so difficult to understand the mask’s feeling, to grasp why it turned its back on arson and murder. In the first place, the mask was itself a serious act of violence against the custom of the world. Whether arson and murder would be more destructive than a mask could not be answered with pure common sense. To put it succinctly, it would be best to begin mass production of an elaborate mask, like the one used for myself, and presuppose a public opinion that in time would be favorable. In all likelihood, masks would attain fantastic popularity, my factory would grow larger and larger, and even working full time it would be unable to meet the demand. Some people would suddenly vanish. Others would be broken up into two or three people. Personal identification would be pointless, police photographs ineffective, and pictures of prospective marriage partners torn up and thrown away. Strangers would be confused with acquaintances, and the very idea of an alibi would collapse. Unable to suspect others, unable to believe in others, one would have to live in a suspended state, a state of bankrupt human relations, as if one were looking into a mirror that reflects nothing.
No, perhaps one would have to be prepared to accept an even more disadvantageous state. Everyone would begin to change masks one after the other, attempting to escape the anxiety of not seeing by becoming less apparent than the invisible. And when it became common practice to constantly seek new masks, the word “stranger” would become obscene, scrawled in public toilets; and identification of strangers—like definitions of family, nation, rights, duties—would become obscure, incomprehensible without copious commentary.
I wonder whether mankind could stand such an orgy of novelty, whether it would discover promise in such a weightless state, whether it would be able to evolve new customs. Of course, I do not intend to declare that it would be absolutely impossible. Indeed, the uncommon depth of man’s ability to adapt and his capacity for disguise are already well attested by the history of war and revolution. But before that—before we permit the mask such unbridled diffusion—I think the question is whether we really are broad-minded enough to get along without exercising our instinct to organize sanitary squads. No matter how much we might be fascinated by masks, society would erect stout barricades against individual abuses. For example, the use of the mask in places of employment—public offices, firms, police stations, laboratories—would doubtless be forbidden. Furthermore, as a matter of course popular actors would insist on facial copyrights and start movements against the free production of their masks. To take a more common example, the family: husband and wife would both have to promise not to wear dissimulating masks. A new style of manners would probably evolve for business transactions: before negotiations began, one would have to pinch the skin of the other’s face. In the case of job interviews, the custom of pricking the applicant’s face with a needle and drawing blood to show it was real might well arise. For the police to put a hand on the face in interrogations would be the subject of court cases, to determine whether the act was justified or whether the police had gone too far, and it is conceivable that legal scholars would publish dissertations on the subject.
Day after day, in the “Advice to the Lovelorn” columns of the newspapers, one would read the complaints of women who had been deceived into marriage by a mask—(they would not mention their own). However, the answers would be just as irrelevant and irresponsible: “The insincerity of not once showing his face during the engagement is deplorable. But you are still thinking in terms of a life with a real face. The mask does not deceive and is not deceived. How about putting on a new mask, turning over a new leaf, and starting another life? On these days of masks, we can put on a new look unconcerned with yesterday or tomorrow.” No matter how great the deception, it’s the inconvenience that would be discussed; the pain of deception would never outweigh the pleasure it provided. While there would be many conflicts, the fascination with masks would be predominant.
On balance, of course, some things would be definitely negative. The popularity of detective stories would naturally decline to a shadow, and novels of family affairs dealing with double and triple personalities would be popular for a while; but since the purchasing of masks would occur at the rate of five or more different kinds per person, the resultant complexities of plot would exceed the limits of the readers’ patience. For some the raison d’être of the novel, except for fulfilling the demands of lovers of historical fiction, would possibly disappear. This would not be restricted to novels alone; plays and movies, which fundamentally would be exhibitions of masks, would be peopled with outrageously abstract ciphers that would convey little dramatic interest to the audience. Cosmetic manufacturers would go bankrupt, and one after another the beauty parlors would take down their signs. All the writers’ associations would set up a clamor about the destruction of man by the mask, and beauticians and dermatologists would devote themselves to detailed studies of skin damage caused by masks.
Of course it is extremely doubtful that such actions would have much more effect than temperance pamphlets. Furthermore, Mask Makers, Inc., would already have grown into an enormous monopolistic enterprise, extending its network of ordering, processing, and marketing throughout the country, and would have silenced the mere handful of discontented elements as easily as twisting a baby’s arm.
Problems would doubtless arise eventually; when the use of masks reached a point of saturation and their curiosity and strangeness faded, masks would come to seem commonplace, and people would long more than ever for the feeling of release from complex human relationships. At this time the smell of crime and vice would suddenly become a piercing stench, like that of overripe cheese, and anxiety would return; when the various masquerades one had thought of as mere holiday exuberance would be seen as noisome, possibly harmful offenses. For example: unlicensed dealers would specialize in plagiarizing other people’s faces and members of the Diet would engage in swindling; certain well-known artists would be accused on suspicion of car theft; leaders of the Socialist Party would make Fascist speeches; bank directors would be indicted for bank robbery—all such antics would be frequent occurrences. And while at first I laughed as if at some circus act, I suddenly realized that someone else, my exact image, would be assiduously picking pockets and shoplifting before my very eyes.… Realizing this, I was obliged to face facts. Thus, one would have to consider the fabricated alibi as a burden too, preventing proof of guilt as well as substantiation of innocence. The pleasure of deceiving would fade to a shadow before the anxiety of being deceived. Teachers would lose their educational ideals (since the concept of forming the personality would have vanished); mass truancy of students would follow; and parents (that is, nearly everybody) would begin to curse the mask. Immediately newspaper editors, sensitive to the winds of change, would begin to advocate a registration system for masks; but unfortunately masks and registration systems would not be at all compatible—in the same way that a jail without doors w
ould be meaningless. A registered mask could not be a mask for long. Public opinion would reverse itself; people would fling their masks aside and urge the intervention of the government to banish the mask. This movement would take the form, rarely witnessed in history, of cooperation between citizen and police, and in no time at all laws proscribing the mask would be enacted.
However, governmental fear of excesses would be the same as before. Even though officials promised to discipline infringements of the law, they would handle them as minor offenses at best. The weakness here would be that such action would stimulate curiosity and result in the spread of illegal factories and black-market gangs, bringing a period of confusion like the prohibition era in America. Then, although probably too late, the law would be revised: masks would be legal in cases of conspicuous injury to the face or as prescribed by a doctor to treat a patient afflicted with some serious nervous disorder. But the falsification of documents and corrupt practices by mask makers would continue, and soon there would no longer even be special cases. A special Inspector of Masks would be appointed, and the mask submitted to thoroughgoing control. Yet crimes perpetrated by masks would show absolutely no decline. They would fill the newspaper columns, and ultimately right-wing groups would appear, wearing identical masks like uniforms. There would be scandalous assassinations of government officials. Courts too would be able to do nothing but view the mere wearing of a mask as the equivalent of premeditated homicide, and ultimately public opinion would unhesitatingly support this.
EXCURSUS: Even though these fancies were drunken musings, they were of absorbing interest. The result was highly casuistic: in a hundred-man group, each member would have a ninety-nine percent alibi and a one-percent suspicion of involvement, for even though an act was committed, there would be no single agent. At first blush, the act of wearing a mask would appear to suggest premeditated crime, but why did one sense it to be of an animal-like cruelty? Perhaps it was because of the perfect anonymity of the offence. Perfect anonymity means the sacrificing of one’s name to the perfect group. Rather than some intellectual trickery for the purpose of self-defense, this sacrifice is rather the instinctive tendency of individuals face to face with death. Just as various groups—racial, national, trade, social, religious—first attempt to erect altars in the name of loyalty at the time of invasion by the enemy. For the individual, death is fatal; for the perfect group, it is merely an attribute. The perfect group originally had an aggressive character. You will surely understand if I use the army as an example of a perfect group, and a soldier as an example of perfect anonymity. Considered in this light, there seemed to be some contradiction in my musings. Why should a court of law that cannot judge an army uniform as being equivalent to premeditated murder look so stringently on right-wing groups wearing identical masks? Does the nation consider the mask something evil and subversive? I wonder whether the nation itself is not an enormous mask intolerant of the rivalry of individual masks. Then the most harmless thing in the world must be an anarchist.…
I have proved that a mask by its very existence is basically destructive. Equivalent to premeditated murder, the mask can stand shoulder to shoulder, with no feeling of inferiority, with arson or banditry. It was not surprising that the mask, which itself was a form of destruction, was not inspired to such crimes as arson and murder, although it was in the act of walking now through the ruins of human relationships destroyed by its existence. Despite the throbbing cancer of its cravings, it was satisfied simply to be.
THE centripetal, child-like cravings of the forty-hour-old mask … cravings of a famished fugitive who had just wrenched free from the scar webs.… What kind of freedom could this greedy craw, still carrying the traces of its manacles, possibly have?
Frankly, there was an answer. Basically, its cravings were not something understood by discussion; they had to be felt. Let me put it simply. They were a compulsive urge to become a sacrificial victim of the tribe. I realized this clearly the instant I stepped out into the street. What need had there been until now to be indirect, as if making excuses? Did I think I could perhaps avoid shame by being circuitous? No, I seem to be piling on justifications. But at this point I was not clinging to shame. I was clinging to just one thing: to try to superimpose an affair with you, however disagreeable, onto these cravings.
An affair with you, of course, was the shameless fantasy of the mask. Even though I wanted to feel something, hope for something, attempt something, the poison of jealousy (I had deliberately begun to forget it, though it was the root of all these fancies) recovered its breath and began to check the flow of blood in my veins. My fancies were connected, by an association of ideas, with the plans for the next day. The mask, as might be expected, could only feel ashamed and nonplussed at this. Anyway, the freedom of the mask, even though it lay chiefly in the abstract relationship with others, was like a bird bereft of its wings. The mask that had escaped banishment and was observing its truce could only stammer uncertainly.
Thereupon, the mask soothed me; with my continual worrying, it was I, not it, who would end up a means to an end. Even though I did wear a mask on my face, my body was the same as before. Well, I might just as well close my eyes and blot out the light from the world around me. Suddenly the mask and I became one, and there was no “other one” to be jealous of. If it was I myself who was touching you, then it was I too who was being touched by you; and there was no need to falter.
MARGINAL NOTE: On consideration, this is rather selfish reasoning. If one supposes that for oneself one is a set person and that for others one is an unknown person, half of me is a stranger. Even we yellow-skinned men were not originally a yellow race. We were first called yellow by a race of men whose skin was of a different color. Disregarding the promise of the face and making the lower half of the body the basis of personality are equally deceptive. If I maintain that the lower half of my body is unchanged, then I shall have to assume absolute responsibility for the erotic acts of the mask. In my fancies I accused you of shamelessly betraying me, and my body was wracked with the poison of jealousy; yet as soon as it was a question of myself, I called it a pure expenditure of freedom and was too selfish to think how much it might hurt you. In the final analysis, jealousy itself is something like a pet cat that insists on its rights but does not accept its duties.
Soothing me thus, blankly, as if it felt nothing at all, the mask had to make me understand that sifting desires through sieves would leave nothing like what was hoped for. Pure desires are surprisingly few and simple, and it is no trouble to spot them, if we leave out the destructive ones. For example, let me enumerate some here as they occur to me.
First, food, sleep, and sex are the three great cravings. After them come general cravings, such as evacuation, thirst, escape, possession, leisure. Coming to rather special cases, we have desires for alcohol, tobacco, drugs, and suicide. And, if we interpret cravings in a wider sense, we can include the desire for work and for fame.
But what I have called “expenditure of freedom” is eliminated with the first sifting. No matter how overpowering drowsiness may be, it is not a goal in itself; it should doubtless be classified as a preserving of freedom. And no matter how you consider it, basically sleep itself is simply a transition to waking up. For the same reason, it would be best to place outside the present investigation such things as evacuation, thirst, possession, escape, fame, and work. One would surely be criticized if one treated the last item, work, in the same category as evacuation. Surely considering the results, work dominates among the desires. If one did not create things, there would be no history, no world either, and perhaps indeed man himself as a thinking being would not have evolved. Moreover, through self-denial, work may become more than simple labor. Though one may make it a personal goal, unlike desire for possessions or fame, it will not make a poor impression. People nod approval and say: “He’s a hard worker.” And though they may be envious, they will hardly be censorious, as long as the work is gainful and reputable
. (Actually, I was sixty percent satisfied with my work at the Institute—if I were deprived of it, I suppose I should experience a ninety-percent affection for it—but I could get along without the mask.) Even if work for the sake of work were somehow to slip through the first sieve, inevitably it would be culled in the second sifting. May I remind you that I am not talking about values, but of the immediate cravings of an escaped prisoner whose alibi is guaranteed.
Among the remaining cravings, the desire for food apparently is also eliminated in the second sifting. Let’s exclude the jumping of a restaurant bill, since that is a means rather than a goal; but it seems to me I have heard somewhere about a law that says you can’t go on stuffing yourself. Suppression of appetite is conceivable, but not suppression of desire for food. Still, if one ventured to carry this suppression of appetite to the ultimate, couldn’t it result in cannibalism? But with cannibalism, the element of killing would seem to be stronger than the desire for food. And I have already decided not to talk about murder.
For the time being suicide was a forbidden escape; I could perform it with my real face, but the mask had just made a heroic escape from being “buried alive.” If I were going to commit suicide, it would have been better to have done nothing from the first. Moreover, rather than consider the desire for leisure as an independent unit, I should like to take the view that it is something composite, sometimes a form of escape, sometimes a sort of work that has no object. Further drug addiction like alcoholism is merely a bad copy of the mask—and thus there was no need to discuss the problem again.