Six (3/3)

by Natsume Sōseki

“It’s been a while,” said Higashikaze-kun, bowing his head. His face shines beautifully, just like the other day. From just the head, he looks like a stage actor, but the way he struggles to wear the white Ogura hakama makes him seem exactly like a disciple of Kenkichi Sakakibara. The only part of his body that seems normal for a human is from the shoulders to the waist.

“Well, you’ve really come out in this heat. Come this way,” said Meitei-sensei, inviting them into his home. “I haven’t seen you for a while.” “That’s right, it’s been since the reading session this spring. Speaking of the reading session, has it been lively lately? After that, didn’t you go to the shrine? That was delicious. I applauded a lot, but did you notice?” “Yes, thanks to you, I gained a lot of courage and managed to see it through to the end.” “When is the next event?” the host asked. “We’ll take a break in July and August, and I’m thinking of doing something lively in September. Do you have any interesting ideas?” “Well,” the host replied nonchalantly. “Toufu-kun, how about you do one of my creations?” this time Kangetsu-kun spoke up. “Your creation would be interesting, but what exactly are you thinking?” “A script,” Kangetsu-kun insisted, and as expected, the three were a bit surprised and stared at his face. “A script sounds wonderful. Is it a comedy or a tragedy?” as Toufu-kun approached, Kangetsu-sensei replied with a more serious expression, “No, it’s neither a comedy nor a tragedy. Lately, the old and new dramas have been noisy, so I thought I’d try to create a new form. It’s called haigeki.” “What kind of thing is haigeki?” “I named it haigeki, which incorporates the essence of haiku into a play,” he said, and both the host and Meitei looked a bit perplexed. “So, what’s the concept?” Toufu-kun asked. “Since it comes from the essence of haiku, I thought it should be something not too long and without any poisonous elements, so I made it a one-act play.” “I see.” “First, let’s talk about the props; it should also be extremely simple. In the center of the stage, I’ll plant a large willow tree, and from the trunk of that willow, a branch will extend to the right.”"Stretch out and let a crow perch on that branch." "It would be fine if the crow stays still," the master murmured with concern. "It's nothing to worry about; I'll tie the crow's feet to the branch with a string. Then, I'll set up a basin underneath, with a beautiful woman lying sideways using a towel." "That's a bit decadent, isn't it? First of all, who will be that woman?" Meitei asked. "That's easy to arrange. I'll hire a model from an art school." "The police department might raise a fuss about that," the master worried again. "But as long as it's not a performance, there shouldn't be any problem. If we say that, then we can't even do life drawing at school." "But that's for practice, so it's a bit different from just watching." "If the teachers say such things, then Japan still has a long way to go. Painting and theater are both the same art," Kangetsu-kun passionately asserted. "Well, the discussion is fine, but what happens next?" Toufuu-kun asked. "Then, from the flower path, the haiku poet Takahama Kyoshi comes out with a cane, wearing a hat with white wicks, a transparent haori, and half shoes with Satsuma patterns. The outfit looks like it's from the army's official supplier, but since he's a poet, he should appear as relaxed as possible, while internally focused on his haiku ideas. As Kyoshi walks down the flower path and reaches the main stage, he suddenly looks up from his haiku thoughts and sees a large willow tree, under which a white woman is bathing in the shade. Surprised, he looks up and sees a crow perched on a long willow branch, watching the woman bathe. At that moment, Kyoshi-sensei is greatly moved by the haiku flavor, and after about fifty seconds of contemplation, he loudly recites a verse about the crow falling in love with the bathing woman as a signal to bring down the curtain with a clapper. — What do you think of this idea?"Well. Don't you like it? You would be much better off being a Kimi than a Kyoko," said Higashikaze-kun, looking somewhat unsatisfied. "It seems a bit too straightforward. I would like a story that incorporates a little more human emotion," he replied seriously. Until now, Meitei, who had been relatively quiet, was not the kind of man to remain silent for long. "Just that alone makes the haibun extraordinary. According to Ueda Toshikun, haibun and humor are said to be passive and the sound of a fallen nation, but as expected of Toshikun, he put it well. Try doing something so trivial. That would only earn you laughter from Ueda-kun. First of all, whether it's a play or a farce, it's too passive and unclear. Excuse me, but Kangu gets better results polishing pearls in the laboratory," Kangu said, somewhat indignant. "Is it really that passive? I thought I was being quite proactive," he began to defend himself. "As for Kyoko, I think it's very proactive that Kyoko-sensei captures a crow and makes it fall in love with a woman." "That's a new theory. I would love to hear your explanation." "From the perspective of a Bachelor of Science, it's unreasonable for a crow to fall in love with a woman." "That's quite right." "The fact that such an unreasonable thing is said so casually does not sound forced at all." "Is that so?" the host interjected with a tone of doubt, but Kangu paid no mind. "The reason it doesn't sound forced is that this can be well explained psychologically. To be honest, whether one falls in love or not is an emotion that exists within the haiku poet themselves and is unrelated to the crow. However, the feeling that the crow is in love means that it's not about the crow itself; it's about one's own feelings of love.It starts here. When Kyoshi saw a beautiful woman taking a bath, he must have fallen in love the moment he was struck by the thought. Now, having seen a crow staring down from a branch with the eyes of someone in love, he mistakenly thought, "Ah, that guy is also captivated like me." It is undoubtedly a misunderstanding, but that is what is literary and also positive. To extend what one has felt alone onto the crow without any hesitation, while pretending not to know, is quite proactive, isn't it? What do you think, Sensei?" "Indeed, that's a brilliant theory. If Kyoshi heard this, he would surely be surprised. The explanation is certainly proactive, but on the day that play was performed, the spectators would definitely become passive, right? Hey, Tokufu-kun." "Yes, I think it seems a bit too passive," he replied with a serious face.

The master seemed to want to change the flow of the conversation a bit and asked, "So, Tokufu-san, have you created any masterpieces recently?" Tokufu-kun replied, "No, nothing in particular, but I am planning to publish a poetry collection soon, and I brought the manuscript, so I would like to ask for your critique." He then took out a purple cloth from his pocket. From it, he pulled out a bundle of about fifty sheets of manuscript paper and placed it in front of the master.

The master began to look at the manuscript with a serious expression. On the first page,

it was written,

"Unlike the people of the world,

To the lovely Fujiko."

The master stared silently at that page for a while with a somewhat mysterious expression. Then, Meitei, who was sitting next to him, leaned in and said, "What is it, a new-style poem?" He peered in and said, "Ah, you dedicated it. Tokufu-kun, dedicating it to Fujiko is splendid," and praised him repeatedly. The master, looking even more puzzled, asked, "Tokufu-san, is this Fujiko really a woman who exists?"

“Yes, she is one of the ladies I invited to the reading session with Meitei the other day. Actually, she lives nearby, but she has been away on vacation in Oiso since last month,” he answered with a serious face. The master said, “Kurumi-kun, this is the twentieth century. Don’t make that face, quickly read a masterpiece. However, Toufu-kun, this way of dedicating it is a bit off. What do you think this word ‘aekani’ means in its entirety?”

“I think it means weak or fragile,” Toufu-kun replied, and the master said, “I see, it’s not entirely incorrect, but to speak of its original meaning, it means ‘dangerous.’ So, I wouldn’t write it this way.”

“How should I write it to make it more poetic?” Toufu-kun asked, and the master said, “I would write it like this: ‘To the lady Tomiko, who appears delicate unlike the people of the world, beneath her nose.’ It’s just a three-character difference, but having a nose or not makes a big difference in impression.” Toufu-kun seemed unconvinced, but nodded reluctantly.

The master silently turned a page and finally began to read the first chapter at the beginning of the volume.

“Weary and fragrant, in the scent behind,

Your spirit or the smoke of mutual thoughts wafts.

Oh, I, ah, I, in this bitter world,

Sweetly obtained, that hot kiss.”

“This is a bit difficult for me to understand,” the master sighed and handed it to Meitei. “This is a bit overdone,” Meitei handed it to Kangu. Kangu said, “I see,” and returned it to Toufu-kun.

"It's natural that you don't understand, teacher. The poetry world has developed to an unrecognizable extent compared to ten years ago. Recently, there are many poems that are difficult to understand even when read lying down or at a station, so even the authors themselves often struggle to respond when asked questions. They write entirely from inspiration, so poets have no other responsibilities. Annotations and interpretations are for scholars to handle, so we don't pay too much attention to that. The other day, a friend named So-seki wrote a short story called 'One Night,' but it was so vague and incoherent that anyone who read it would be lost. When I asked him about his intentions, he simply said he didn't know either, and didn't take it seriously. I think this is a characteristic of poets," continued Higashi-kaze-kun.

"He may be a poet, but he's quite a strange man," said the host, to which Meitei succinctly dismissed So-seki-kun by saying, "He's an idiot." Higashi-kaze-kun, still feeling the need to defend, explained, "So-seki is indeed unique among our group, but I would like you to read my poetry with that feeling in mind as well. What I particularly want you to pay attention to is how 'Bitter This World' and 'Sweet Kiss' are paired, which is a reflection of my struggles."

"You can certainly see traces of considerable effort," said the host, to which Meitei added, "The way sweet and bitter reflect each other is interesting, like a blend of seventeen spices in chili pepper. It's truly a unique technique of Higashi-kaze-kun, and I express my respect."

The host, perhaps lost in thought, suddenly stood up and headed toward the study, soon returning with a sheet of half paper. "Since I've seen Higashi-kaze-kun's work, this time I'll read a short piece and ask for everyone's critique," he said with a somewhat serious demeanor. "I've heard the epitaph of the Natural Recluse two or three times already," Meitei remarked, to which the host replied, "Well, please be quiet. Higashi-san, this is certainly not my forte, but it's just for fun, so please listen."

“I would like to hear it,” said Kangei. “By the way, is it not a long piece?” Kangei continued, and the host replied, “It is just over sixty characters,” and then began to read his own famous work.

“The spirit of Yamato! The Japanese coughed like they had tuberculosis.”

“It is indeed abrupt,” praised Kangei.

“The spirit of Yamato! The newspaper vendor says. The spirit of Yamato! The pickpocket says. The spirit of Yamato has suddenly crossed the sea. A speech on the spirit of Yamato in Britain. A play on the spirit of Yamato in Germany.”

“I see, this is a work beyond that of a natural-born genius,” said Meitei, leaning back to show his approval.

“General Togo possesses the spirit of Yamato. Gin-san from the fish shop also possesses the spirit of Yamato. Swindlers, gamblers, and murderers also possess the spirit of Yamato.”

“Please include Kangei in that,” said the host, and then continued, “When I asked what the spirit of Yamato is, I was answered with the spirit of Yamato and went too far. After going five or six steps, a cough was heard.”

“That line is excellent. You have quite a talent for writing. And what about the next line?”

“Is the spirit of Yamato something triangular, or is it something square? The spirit of Yamato, as the name suggests, is a soul. Because it is a soul, it is always wandering.”

“Teacher, it is quite interesting, but isn’t there a bit too much of the spirit of Yamato?” pointed out Tokikaze-kun. Of course, it was Meitei who said, “I agree.”

“No one has spoken of it, yet no one has seen it. Everyone has heard of it, but no one has encountered it. Is the spirit of Yamato akin to a tengu?”

The master thought he had finished reading with a clear mind, but even the excellent prose was too short, and he couldn't quite grasp the main idea, so the three of them waited, thinking there was more to come. However, no matter how long they waited, there was no response, so finally, Kangu got up the courage to ask, "Is that all?" The master lightly replied, "Yeah." That "yeah" felt a bit too casual.

Strangely, Meitei did not chatter as much as usual about that excellent prose. However, after a while, he turned around and suggested, "Why don't you collect your short stories into a book and dedicate it to someone?" The master casually replied, "Should I dedicate it to you?" Meitei simply answered, "That's plain," and began to tidy his nails with the scissors he had just shown to his wife.

Kangu turned to Tokifuu and asked, "Do you know that Kaneda's daughter?" "This spring, after inviting her to a reading event, we became close, and we've been in contact ever since. When I'm in front of that daughter, I feel a special emotion, and for a while, I can't help but enjoy writing poems and singing. I think the many love poems in this collection are precisely inspired by that friend of the opposite sex. Therefore, I must express my heartfelt gratitude to that daughter. So, I decided to take this opportunity to dedicate my poetry collection. It is said that no one who lacks a close female friend has ever written great poetry."

"Is that so?" Kangu replied, laughing inwardly. Even in a gathering of chatterboxes, it seemed that the conversation wouldn't last long, and the enthusiasm gradually cooled down. I also had no obligation to listen to their monotonous chatter all day, so I excused myself and decided to go out to the garden to look for mantises.

The sun, tilting to the west, shines dappled through the green of the parasol tree, and cicadas are desperately chirping on the trunk. It might rain later in the evening.