The Columbia Anthology of Modern Japanese Literature (Modern Asian Literature Series)
Page 22
“Of course, I don’t stand up to Tomiyama when it comes to wealth. He’s one of the wealthiest men in Japan, and I’m nothing but a lowly student. But Mii-san, think about what you’re doing. You can’t buy happiness with money. Happiness and money aren’t the same thing. Human happiness requires harmony within the family. And what is family harmony? It’s when a husband and his wife share a deep, mutual love for each other. When it comes to loving you deeply, you can take a hundred people like Tomiyama; and in the end, none of them could love you a tenth as much as I care for you. Tomiyama might brag about his wealth, but I’ll compete with him any day. I have a love that people like him can’t even imagine. A couple’s happiness depends on just this kind of powerful love. Without it, a couple isn’t a couple. Mii-san, why would you even think of turning your back on the man who loves you and thinks of your happiness? Why settle for something useless, even harmful, to a marriage?
“Money can steal away a person’s heart. A scholar of great wisdom, even a fine gentleman who stands far above the masses, will do the dirtiest things for money. When I think about it in that way, maybe I can understand why your heart has changed so easily. I don’t blame you for what you’ve done. But I do want you to reconsider, Mii-san, just one last time. Tomiyama’s riches. How much good will they do for you as a couple?
“A sparrow can eat only ten or twenty grains of rice. If you set out a bag of rice, no bird will eat the whole bag. I’m not the kind of irresponsible man who would let you go hungry, to go without that ten or twenty grains of rice, even if I didn’t inherit your family’s wealth. If by some chance I couldn’t provide those ten or twenty grains, I’d go without rather than make you suffer. Mii-san, that’s how much I think of your welfare!”
Kan’ichi wiped away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks.
“So you’ll marry into the Tomiyama family. You’ll have a good life. You’ll live in luxury. Things will be easy. But there’s something you have to think about: that wealth wasn’t created in order to be lavished on someone’s wife. And what good is a fine lifestyle if there’s no love in your marriage? What is luxury? In this world, there are those who go off to evening parties in horse-drawn carriages, their ashen faces drawn with worry. And then there is the man who puts his wife and children in a rickshaw and pulls it himself so they can all go together to see the cherry blossoms. If you become a member of the Tomiyama family, you’ll have a lot of people to think about, and many guests coming and going. Think of all the pressure on you to act the part. You’ll be in the middle of it all. Your feelings will be hurt, but your husband won’t love you. Where is the happiness in that? You’ll work hard. But in the end, will that fortune become yours?
“The name ‘Mrs. Tomiyama’ may sound fine, but when it comes to eating, you’re no better off than the sparrow with its ten or twenty grains of rice. Suppose that fortune becomes yours to use, what would a woman do with ten thousand yen anyway? Even if you had tens of thousands of yen, do you honestly think a woman could use it in interesting ways? Isn’t it like telling a sparrow to eat a bagful of rice all at once? If it’s true that a woman has to have a man in order to get on in this world and if it’s true that the good or bad that comes your way depends on others, then a woman’s treasure surely has to be her husband. If you have millions and your husband isn’t your treasure, then won’t your feelings of insecurity make you wish you were married to the rickshaw man who takes his wife to see cherry blossoms?
“I hear that Tomiyama’s father has five mistresses—two in the house, and three living in other places. Men of wealth all follow the same pattern. Their wives become nothing but bed decorations, discards, I should say. You’ll be a discard, too, someday. And compared with your husband’s beloved mistresses, your responsibilities will be heavy and your suffering great. You’ll have all of the pain and none of the joy. Oh, yes. Your new husband Tadatsugu will desire you as his bride. For a while, he’ll love you, sure. But what happens as time passes? Since he has money, he’ll try to follow others’ examples to suit his needs. He’ll find other things to make him happy, and soon his love for you will grow cold. Think about how you’re going to feel then. Will Tomiyama’s money save you from pain? You may have money, but if your husband betrays you and makes you into a bed ornament, how fun is that going to be? Will you be satisfied?
“I admit it. I’m filled with resentment because you’ve been stolen away by another man. In three years from now, I’ll see your regret; and though I’ll still hate you because of your fickleness, I’ll also feel sorry for you. That’s why I’m telling you the truth now.
“If you grow tired of me, if you do fall for Tomiyama and become his wife, I won’t keep pestering you. But Mii-san, you’ve been thrown off course by the thought of marrying into a rich family, and that’s a mistake. That’s truly a mistake! A loveless marriage is nothing to look forward to. The rest of your life will be determined here tonight by what you decide now. Mii-san, if you value your life, then, please, I beg you to feel some sympathy for me! I beg you, please. Think through your decision one last time.
“I have seven thousand yen. I’ll be getting my degree. We’ll have enough to live a happy life together. Haven’t we been happy until now? I’m a man, but as long as I have you, even I don’t covet Tomiyama’s wealth. So what’s gotten into you, Miya-san? Have you forgotten me? Aren’t you fond of me?”
As if to shield her from danger, Kan’ichi took Miya into his arms. Shaking like a frost-bitten reed being tossed about by the wind, he shed hot tears on the fragrant nape of her neck. Miya, too, held him tightly. Together they trembled. She wept on Kan’ichi’s arm.
“Oh, what shall I do? If I marry him, Kan’ichi-san, then what will become of you? That’s what I need to know.”
Like a tree rent by a storm, Kan’ichi pushed Miya away.
“So you do intend to marry him! You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you? Damn! You rotten woman! You whore!”
While raising his voice, Kan’ichi also raised his foot and delivered a hard kick to Miya’s willowy hips. She fell over on her side with a thud. Unable to speak, she bore the pain silently, lying on the sand, crying. As if he had struck down a wild beast, Kan’ichi looked down at her with growing hatred in his eyes, at Miya lying weakly on the sand, unable to move.
“Miya, you, you bitch! It’s because of you and your fickle heart that I’ve gone mad with disappointment. You’ve made me ruin my life. To hell with studying! To hell with everything! Because of this grudge I bear in my heart, I’ll become the devil and eat the flesh of beasts like you, Mrs. Tomiyama. No, Madame Tomiyama! I won’t be seeing you again, so look up at this face while I’m still a human being. I’ve long been indebted to your father and mother, and I should meet them and pay my respects. But now I’ll never see them again, so give them my regards. If they ask about me, tell them the fool went crazy on the night of the seventeenth and that I disappeared from sight on the beach at Atami.”
Miya suddenly jumped up. She tried to stand but her leg hurt her and she fell back helplessly onto the sand. She finally crawled over to Kan’ichi and grabbed his leg. “Kan’ichi-san. Wait! Where are you going?” She spoke through her tears.
Kan’ichi was greatly surprised. Miya’s kimono had come open, and her knees were exposed. They were bleeding badly and trembling.
“You’re hurt.”
He leaned over, but Miya resisted. “It’s not important. Where are you going? I have something to tell you, Kan’ichi. I want you to come home with me tonight. Please. I’m begging you.”
“If you have something to say, tell it to me now.”
“Not here.”
“So what do you have to say to me? You’re not going to let go of my leg?”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t be stubborn. I’ll kick you again.”
“Go ahead.”
Kan’ichi shook her loose with all his might. Miya fell miserably to the sand.
“Kan’ichi-san
.”
Kan’ichi strode away. Seeing that she was being left behind, Miya struggled to her feet. She tried to follow but again and again fell in pain onto the sand.
“Kan’ichi-san, I won’t hold on to you. Just one more time. Once more. I have something I need to tell you.”
Again, Miya fell onto the sand, this time without the strength to get back up. All she could do was to call after him. A minute later, she could vaguely make out Kan’ichi’s silhouette as he climbed a hill. Miya writhed on the beach and kept calling for him. Finally, his black shadow appeared, standing on the hill’s crest. He appeared to be looking back in her direction. With her last ounce of strength, Miya called out. From the distance, a man’s voice came to her.
“Miya-san!”
“Ah. Kan’ichi!”
She held up her head and looked around. Her eyes searched for him. But upon hearing the sound of his voice, she lost sight of his dark shadow. She wondered momentarily whether she might see him in the stillness of the wintering trees. The approaching waves broke sadly on the beach, and the moon of the seventh day of the new year grieved.
With yearning in her voice, Miya called out Kan’ichi’s name once again.
POETRY IN THE INTERNATIONAL STYLE
All the influences and enthusiasms from abroad that colored and shaped Japanese literature during the Meiji period are reflected in its contemporary-style poetry. The so-called free verse (shintaishi) of this period had no basis in the Japanese tradition of waka (thirty-one-syllable poem) and haiku (seventeen-syllable poem), nor did poets feel any need to pay their respects to the themes and concerns of the past. Foreign, particularly French, forms now took pride of place as younger poets searched for more authentic ways in which to express themselves. As the following selections suggest, the verse composed in this period ranged from socially conscious poems to exotic renderings of subtle interior feelings. The following introductions and translations are by Leith Morton.
KODAMA KAGAI
Kodama Kagai (1874–1943) was born in Yamaguchi Prefecture. He attended, but did not graduate from, Dōshisha University, Sapporo Agricultural College, and Tōkyō Senmon Gakkō. He published his own collection, A Collection of Socialist Poetry (Shakaishugi shishŪ), in 1903. But the book was banned by the authorities, and except for two copies, the whole print run was confiscated. Not until 1949, after the Pacific War, was it made available. Consequently, Kagai published a second collection, Kagai’s Collection of Poetry (Kagai shishŪ), in 1904, which contained fewer than half the poems from his first collection. He also published other collections. The following poem is from A Collection of Socialist Poetry.
THE SUICIDE OF AN UNEMPLOYED PERSON (SHITSUGYŌSHA NO JISATSU)
A devil may endure but just being a man
In his labors long and cruel
His body was merely a slender blade of grass
Since the time his lungs had become diseased
He became a wood thrush who coughs blood and dies
Wandering here and there
Now, how sad it is that he has nowhere to live
In a frenzy he spits blood
He was watching the water flow
Under the rails of the Ryogoku bridge And was a companion to the night gulls He sank into the water, how tragic
Near the edge of the reeds at Etchujima
His corpse floated up the next morning
Ah even to hear it is bitter, this
The end of a working man.
ISHIKAWA TAKUBOKU
Ishikawa Takuboku (1886–1912) was born in Hionoto village, Iwate Prefecture, the only son of a Zen priest. Traveling back and forth between his northern home and Tōkyō, by 1905 Takuboku had already published his first collection of “new-style” poetry and had established a reputation as a rising star. Later he became a socialist, an ideology that strongly influenced his writing of tanka (short poems, for which he is especially celebrated), fiction, and new-style poetry and free verse. Takuboku also kept a very candid diary, which later became famous for its revelations of the poet’s personal life.
BETTER THAN CRYING (NAKU YORI MO, 1908)
I met her in a dream
I do not know in what year, on what night.
By now she has probably died.
Drenching her hair in black oil,
Like the fur of a white rabbit that has died of disease
Thick white face-powder,
Smearing her lips with lip-rouge the color of blood,
She sings obscene song after obscene song, in the company of young girls
Gaily plucking at the shamisen,
Gulping down saké burning her tongue strongly like fire
Like water—
Surrounded by men just twenty years of age who do not drink.
“Why do you sing such songs? I asked
In my dream
She replied
Smiling redly in a drunken stupor
Better than crying!
DO NOT GET UP (OKIRU NA, 1909)
Life is more wearisome than
A dust-covered windowpane
Hot from the afternoon sun
Totally exhausted from thought,
Sweating, snoring, napping
Yellow teeth glimpsed inside the mouth of a man still young
Summer sunlight illuminating through the window a pair of hairy legs,
Upon them fleas crawl upward.
Don’t get up, don’t get up, at least until the sun sets.
Until the cool, quiet evening of your life comes
Somewhere a woman’s seductive giggle.
A SPOONFUL OF COCO A (KOKO A NO HITOSAJI, 1911)
I know, the sadness
Of a terrorist’s heart—
A single heart
That finds it difficult to separate words and deeds,
A heart that seeks to speak through deeds
Rather than stolen words,
A heart that hurls its own body at the enemy—
But it’s a sadness always possessed by those who are serious and passionate.
AFTER ENDLESS DISCUSSIONS
(HATESHI NAKI GIRON NO ATO, 1911)
We have read and argued fiercely,
But the gleam in our eyes is
Equal to the Russian youth of fifty years ago.
We are arguing about what to do.
But not one person clenches a fist and slams the table,
Shouting “V narod!”1
We know what we want,
And we know what the people want,
And we know what we have to do.
Truly, we know better than the Russian youth of fifty years ago.
But not one person clenches a fist and slams the table,
Shouting “V narod!”
All gathered here are young,
Youth always creates what is new in the world.
We know that soon the old people will die, and we will finally win.
Behold! The gleam is in our eyes! The fierceness of our debates!
But not one person clenches a fist and slams the table,
Shouting “V narod!”
Ah, the candles have been changed for the third time,
The corpses of tiny beetles float in our cups,
The zeal of the young women does not diminish.
Yet in their eyes, the exhaustion after endless discussions.
Still, not one person clenches a fist and slams the table,
Shouting “V narod!”