Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories (4 page)
Read Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories Online
Authors: Ryunosuke Akutagawa
Many Japanese would see in the death of this one writer the triumph, the aestheticism, the anguish, and the unavoidable downfall of the Taish
Å
Period's cultivated elite. His individual declaration of defeat also became a signpost on the road of history leading to the tragedy of the Second World War. In the period just before and after his death, the flower of democracy that had bloomed with such promise in the Taish
Å
Period simply shriveled and died. Soon the boots of the military would resound everywhere. The writer Akutagawa Ry
Å«
nosuke stands as an illuminating presence in the history of Japanese literature, a symbol of his age's brief glory and quiet defeat.
Has Akutagawa left behind a lesson for Japan's contemporary writers (including me)? Of course he has, both as a great pioneer and, in part, as a negative example. One thing he has to teach
us is that we may flee into a world of technique and storytelling artifice but will eventually collide with a solid wall. It is possible to borrow the containers for our first stories, but sooner or later we have to transform the borrowed container into our own. Unfortunately for Akutagawa (and it really was unfortunate), he took too long to make his move, and that may well have ended up costing him his life. Perhaps, though, for a life so short, there was no other choice.
The other lesson he has for us concerns the way we overlay the two cultures of the West and Japan. With great pain and suffering, the self-consciously “modern” Akutagawa groped for his identity as a writer and as an individual in the clash of the two cultures, and just at the point where he had begun to find what was, for him, a hint of a way to fuse the two, he unexpectedly ended his life. For us now, this is by no means someone else's problem. Long after Akutagawa's time, we are still (with some differences) living amid the clash of things Western and Japanese, only now we may call them “global” and “domestic.”
We can say for sure, however, whether with regard to Akutagawa's day or our own, that a half-baked eclecticism of the “Japanese spirit, Western technology” variety is not only fairly useless in the long run, it is downright dangerous. Joining the two cultural systems through a clever technique is never more than a temporary solution to the problem. Eventually, the bond just falls a part. Akutagawa was fully cognizant of the danger, and as an advanced intellectual of his time, he strove to discover the point of union that was right for him. He adopted the correct stance in this regard, and when we catch glimpses of it in his stories, it reverberates for us even now.
What we must aim for today, of course, is not a superficial accommodation with an alien culture but a more positive, essential, and interactive engagement. Having been born in Japan, a country with its own particular cultural environment, we have inherited its language and history, and we live here. Obviously, we need notâand cannotâbecome completely Westernized or globalized. On the other hand, we must never allow ourselves to descend into narrow nationalism. This is the one great lesson, the inflexible rule, that history has taught us.
Today, when the world is growing ever smaller through the spectacular development of the Internet and the increasingly rapid flow of economic interchange, we find ourselves in a pressing situation whereby, like it or not, our very survival depends on our ability to exchange cultural methodologies on an equivalent basis. To turn toward a stance of national exclusivity, regionalism, or fundamentalism in which nations become isolated politically, economically, culturally, or religiously could bring about unimaginable dangers on a worldwide scale. If only in that sense, we novelists and other creative individuals must simultaneously broadcast our cultural messages outward and be flexible receptors of what comes to us from abroad. Even as we unwaveringly preserve our own identity, we must exchange that which can be exchanged and understand that which can be mutually understood. Our role is perfectly clear.
Upon reflection, it seems to me that my departure point as a novelist may be rather close to the position adopted by Akutagawa. Like him, I leaned heavily in the direction of modernism at first, and I half-intentionally wrote from a stand point of direct confrontation with the mainstream I-novel style. I, too, sought to create my own fictional world with a style that provisionally rejected realism. (In contrast to Akutagawa's day, though, we now have the handy concept of post-modernism.) I also learned most of my technique from foreign literature. Unlike him, however, I am basically a novelist rather than a short-story writer, and after a certain point I went on to actively construct my own original storytelling system. I also live an entirely different kind of life. Emotionally, though, I continue to be drawn to several of the best works that Akutagawa left us.
To be sure, I have not modeled my fictional world on his. This is not to say that one approach is right and the other wrong. Such simplistic comparisons are both impossible and meaningless. We live in different eras, our personalities are different, we grew up in different circumstances, and our aims are (as far as I can tell) different. All I want to say is that Iâand probably most of Akutagawa's readersâlearn a great deal from his works and from the vivid traces of his life, and we
continue to draw from them as we move on through our own lives. In other words, Akutagawa Ry
Å«
nosuke still lives and functions in actuality as a “national writer” of ours. He lives on as an immovable fixed point in Japanese literature, as a part of our shared intellectual foundation.
Finally, I would like to commend the translator for his efforts in producing this book. From among Akutagawa's numerous short stories he has chosen several of the undisputed masterpieces and several highly interesting lesser works (most of which have not been translated into English before), assembled them into four apposite categories, and translated them with great accuracy while conveying the spirit of the originals. This has been done with a level of attention to detail that bespeaks a warm enthusiasm for Akutagawa's works and assured literary judgment. I can only hope that this book inspires a new appreciation for Akutagawa abroad.
Murakami Haruki
NOTES
1
. On the list with Akutagawa would be such figures as Natsume S
Å
seki (1867â1916), Mori
Å
gai (1862â1922), Shimazaki T
Å
son (1872â1943), Shiga Naoya (1883â1971), Tanizaki Jun'ichir
Å
(1886â1965), and the 1968 Nobel Prizewinner Kawabata Yasunari (1899â1972). Less certain of a place might be Dazai Osamu (1909â48) and Mishima Yukio (1925â70). S
Å
seki would unquestionably come out at the top. This totals only nine; I can't think of a good candidate for tenth place.
2
. Natsume S
Å
seki,
Botchan
, tr. J. Cohn (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 2005). On his name, see Chronology,
note 2
.
3
. Shiga Naoya, “The Shopboy's God” (“Koz
Å
no kamisama”), tr. Lane Dunlop, in
The Paper Door and Other Stories by Shiga Naoya
(San Francisco: North Point Press, 1987), and Kawabata Yasunari, “The Dancing Girl of Izu” (“Izu no odoriko”), tr. J. Martin Holman, in
The Dancing Girl of Izu and Other Stories
(Washington, D.C.: Counterpoint, 1998).
4
.
Tanka
is the dominant verse form through most of Japanese
literary history, written in five lines of 5-7-5-7- 7 syllabic structure.
5
. Mori
Å
gai, “The Dancing Girl” (“Maihime”), tr. Richard Bowring, in
Mori
Å
gai: Youth and Other St
ories, ed. J. Thomas Rimer (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1994), and “San sh
Å
the Steward” (“Sansh
Å
Day
Å«
”), tr. J. Thomas Rimer, in
The Historical Fiction of Mori
Å
gai
(Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1991).
6
. Tanizaki Jun'ichir
Å
,
The Makioka Sisters
(
Sasameyuki
), tr. Edward Seidensticker (New York: Knopf, 1957).
7
. “Tu Tze-chun” (“Toshishun”), in
The Essential Akutagawa
,
The Three Treasures
, and
The Spider's Thread and Other Stories
; “The Art of the Occult” (“Majutsu”), in
The Three Treasures
and
The Spider's Thread and Other Stories
; and “Yam Gruel” (“Imogayu”), in
Rashomon and Other Stories
, tr. Takashi Kojima. For bibliographical details here and below, see
Further Reading
.
8
. “Kappa,” in
Exotic Japanese Stories
and
Kappa
.
9
. Mori
Å
gai is fine, too, but to the eye of the modern reader the style of his language is a little too static and classical. Kawabata's works, to be quite honest, have always been a problem for me. I do, of course, recognize both their literary value and his considerable abilities as a novelist, but I have never been able to identify very closely with his fictional world. With regard to Shimazaki and Shiga, I can only say I have no particular interest in them. I have hardly read a thing of theirs aside from what I found in the school textbooks, and what I have read has left little trace in my memory.
10
. “The Lady, Roku-no-Miya” (“Roku-no-miya no himegimi”), in
Exotic Japanese Stories
. For English translations of the classical collections, see Translator's Note,
notes 2
and
3
.
11
. ARSJ, p. 176. (For publication information, see list of abbreviations, p. 237.)
12
. Kikuchi Kan, “Insh
Å
teki na kuchibiru to hidarite no hon,” in
Shinch
Å
(October 1917), p. 30.
13
. See Edward Seidensticker,
Low City, High City
(New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1983).
AKUTAGAWA STORIES IN ENGLISH TRANSLATION
Most earlier anthologies tend to be out of print or difficult to find except in libraries. All those listed here contain stories not included in the present volume. Individual stories mentioned in the Introduction are noted along with other titles of particular interest.
The Essential Akutagawa
, ed. Seiji M. Lippitt (New York: Marsilio, 1999). Contains “Tu Tze-chun” (“Toshishun”), “Kesa and Morito” (“Kesa to Morit
Å
”), “The Faint Smiles of the Gods” (“Kamigami no bish
Å
”), “A Note to a Certain Old Friend” (“Aru ky
Å«
y
Å«
e okuru shuki”), “Autumn Mountain” (“Sh
Å«
sanzu”)
Exotic Japanese Stories
, tr. Takashi Kojima and John McVittie (New York: Liveright, 1964). Contains “Kappa” (“Kappa”), “The Lady, Roku-no-Miya” (“Roku-no-miya no himegimi”), “The Badger” (“Mujina”), “Heresy” (“Jash
Å«
mon”, the unfinished sequel to “Hell Screen”), “The Handkerchief” (“Hankechi”), “The Dolls” (“Hina”), “A Woman's Body” (“Nyotai”)
The Heart is Alone
, ed. Richard McKinnon (Tokyo: Hokuseido, 1957). Contains “Flatcar” (“Torokko”), “A Clod of Soil” (“Ikkai no tsuchi”)
Hell Screen and Other Stories
, tr. W. H. H. Norman (Tokyo:
Hokuseido, 1948). Contains “Heresy” (“Jash
Å«
mon”, the unfinished sequel to “Hell Screen”)
Japanese Short Stories
, tr. Takashi Kojima (New York: Liveright, 1961). Contains “A Clod of Soil” (“Ikkai no tsuchi”), “The Tangerines” (“Mikan”)
Kappa
, tr. Geoffrey Bownas (Tokyo: Tuttle, 1971, 2000). Contains “Kappa” and a lengthy introduction
Rashomon and Other Stories
, tr. Takashi Kojima (New York: Liveright, 1952, 1999). Contains “Yam Gruel” (“Imogayu”), complete translation of “Dragon” (“Ry
Å«
”), “The Martyr” (“H
Å
ky
Å
nin no shi”)
Rashomon and Other Stories
, tr. Glenn W. Shaw (Tokyo: Hara Shobo, 1964). Essentially a reissue of
Tales Grotesque and Curious
The Spider's Thread and Other Stories
, tr. Dorothy Britton (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1987). Contains “Tu Tzechun” (“Toshishun”), “The Art of the Occult” (“Majutsu”), “Flatcar” (“Torokko”), “The Dolls” (“Hina”), “The Tangerines” (“Mikan”)
Tales Grotesque and Curious
, tr. Glenn W. Shaw (Tokyo: Hokuseido, 1930). Contains “Tobacco and the Devil” (“Tabako to akuma”), “Lice” (“Shirami”), “The Handkerchief” (“Hankechi”), “The Wine Worm” (“Shuch
Å«
”)
The Three Treasures
, tr. Takamasa Sasaki (Tokyo: Hokuseido, 1951). Contains “Tu Tze-chun” (“Toshishun”), “The Art of the Occult” (“Majutsu”)
Cavanaugh, Carole,
Akutagawa Ry
Å«
nosuke: An Abbreviated Life
(Cambridge: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University, forthcoming)
Hibbett, Howard S., “Akutagawa Ry
Å«
nosuke and the Negative Ideal,” in
Personality in Japanese History
, ed. Albert M. Craig and Donald H. Shively (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1970), pp. 425â 51
ââ, “Akutagawa Ry
Å«
nosuke,” in
Modern Japanese Writers
, ed. Jay Rubin (New York: Scribner's, 2001), pp. 19â 30
Keene, Donald,
Dawn to the West: Japanese Literature of the Modern Era
(New York: Holt Rinehart and Winston, 1984), pp. 556â 93
Lippitt, Seiji M., “The Disintegrating Machinery of the Modern: Akutagawa Ry
Å«
nosuke's Late Writings,”
Journal of Asian Studies
58, no. 1 (1999), pp. 27â50