1-3

by 太宰治

Reading your swift reply, I was immersed in nostalgia. The other day, I sent a somewhat misleading and precarious phrase, "Death is a good thing," but you seemed to have understood my feelings precisely without any misunderstanding, which truly made me happy. Indeed, one cannot help but consider the times. Perhaps that calm feeling towards death cannot be understood by people of a generation ago.

I, on the other hand, was surprised by the words in your letter: "Young people today all live side by side with death. It's not limited to tuberculosis patients. Our lives have been dedicated to someone. They are not ours. Therefore, we can casually entrust ourselves to that so-called ship of divine will without any hesitation. This is a new form of courage for a new century. It has long been said that below the ship is hell, but strangely, we don't mind it." I must sincerely apologize for my rough comment of "old" regarding your first letter.

We are by no means treating life carelessly. However, we are also not needlessly sentimental or afraid of death. As proof of this, after seeing off Ms. Narusawa Itoko's beautiful coffin wrapped in white cloth, I completely forgot about Ma-bo and Take-san and lay in bed with a mind as high and clear as today's autumn sky. And in the hallway, the students and assistants, as usual,

"Are you doing it?"

"I'm doing it."

"Keep it up."

"Alright, here it comes."

I heard them exchanging greetings, and I noticed that it wasn't in their usual playful tone, but rather had a serious ring to it. I actually felt something very healthy in those students who were honestly tense and shouting. To put it a bit pretentiously, the entire dojo had a sacred atmosphere that day. I believed that death never makes people's spirits shrink.

It's a pity for people of an older era who can only interpret our feelings as childish bravado or desperation born of despair. Aren't there few people who can clearly understand both the old and new eras, and their respective emotions? We consider life to be as light as a feather. However, this doesn't mean we treat life carelessly; rather, we love life as something as light as a feather. And those feathers fly far and fast. Truly, while adults loudly continue their conventional debates about patriotic ideology and war responsibility, we will leave them behind and swiftly set sail, following the direct words of the venerable one. I feel that this is where the characteristics of a new Japan lie.

A surprising "theory" was born from the death of Narusawa Itoko, but I'm not very good with such "theories." A new man, after all, feels more at ease silently entrusting himself to a newly built ship and reporting on the strangely bright life aboard. How about it, shall I tell another story about a woman?

In your letter, you seem to be excessively defending Take-san. If you like her that much, why don't you write her a letter directly? No, even better, try meeting her once. Sometime when you have free time, you should come to this dojo not to visit me, but to see Take-san. You might be disillusioned once you see her. After all, she is an undeniably splendid woman. She might even be stronger than you. According to your letter, Maa-bo crying is not a problem at all, but Take-san's "I'm worried" is a big deal. I've thought about that too. When Maa-bo came to me and cried, saying, "I have a problem," and Take-san said, "I'm worried," it makes me want to foolishly flatter myself that it's proof Take-san has had feelings for me for a while, but I don't feel that way at all. Take-san is just a big person, completely without charm. She's always busy with work, a person who doesn't even have time to think about other things. She's just a person who is tense under the heavy responsibility of being the assistant group leader and works diligently. I think that when Take-san heard that she had scolded Maa-bo the night before, she reflected on whether her scolding was a bit too harsh and became worried, leading to "I'm worried." In this case, it's very unsophisticated, but it's the most sound way of thinking. There's no doubt about it. Women, after all, only think about their own position. The new man is not at all conceited towards women. Nor is he liked. It's a clear-cut matter.

When Take-san said, "Somehow, I'm worried," her face turned red. In fact, she meant that she was concerned about having scolded Maa-bo, but she realized that her words unexpectedly had a strange ring to them and merely blushed a little out of confusion. It was nothing particularly significant. It was trivial.

However, there is one crucial fact that must be taken into account to explain all the unusual circumstances of that day: Ma-bo crying to me, my anxiety, and even the favoritism of a single bowl of rice. That fact is the death of Narusawa Itoko. Ms. Narusawa had passed away the previous night. Ma-bo, who was prone to laughter, was likely scolded due to this. The assistants, young women like Narusawa Itoko, might have been emotionally agitated. Women tend to retain old emotions. Perhaps they were lonely and confused, exhibiting strange emotions like charity for a single bowl of rice. In any case, everyone's unusual behavior that day seems strongly linked to Narusawa Itoko's death. Neither Ma-bo nor Take-san had any particular feelings for me. This is no joke.

Well, did you understand, my friend? Do you still like Take-san after this? You should come to the dojo once and see her in person. I think Ma-bo has a fresher sensibility than Take-san, which I find appealing, but you seem to dislike Ma-bo intensely. How about reconsidering? Ma-bo does have some good qualities after all. The day before yesterday, Ma-bo showed a very kind disposition, and I suddenly reevaluated him. Today, I intend to tell you about that. I'm sure you'll come to like Ma-bo too.

The day before yesterday, Tsukushi Nishiwaki, who shared my room, had to leave this dojo due to family circumstances. It happened to be Maa-bou's day off, so he promised to take Tsukushi to E City. From the day before, Maa-bou was greatly teased by the students, and when they pressed him for souvenirs, he readily agreed, saying, "Alright, I understand." Early in the morning the day before yesterday, he put on Kurume-kasuri monpe and eagerly set off, following Tsukushi-dono. Then, around three in the afternoon, while we were doing our stretching exercises, he returned with a smile and went around the rooms, distributing the promised souvenirs to the students.

In an era of labor shortages like today, even daughters from well-off families seem to have to leave home and work, and Maa-bou apparently belongs to that group. His work seems half-play, and yet, perhaps because his pockets are warm, he's always generous, which seems to be one reason for his popularity among the students. The souvenirs he brings on such occasions are quite extravagant. The souvenirs are toy mirrors, about one to two inches in size, and I wonder how and where he got them. On the back, there's a photo of a movie actress. In the past, such things were given away for free as prizes at candy stores, but now, even these wouldn't be cheap if you bought them. He might have bought dozens of them from the stock of some candy store or toy shop and brought them back, but in any case, it's a souvenir typical of Maa-bou's ideas. The students seemed very fond of the movie actress's photo on the back and were making a big fuss. Kappore also received one. I disliked receiving things from women, so I never pressed for souvenirs from the start, and I thought it was trivial to benefit from a single toy pocket mirror like everyone else.

Ma-bo came to our room and handed a mirror to Kappore, asking, "Kappore-san, do you know this actress?"

"I don't know her, but she's a beauty. Isn't she just like Maa-bou?"

"No, it's not Danielle Darrieux."

"What, American?"

"No, she's French. She was quite popular in Tokyo for a while, didn't you know?"

"I didn't know. French or whatever, I'm returning this anyway. Foreigners are boring. Can't you exchange it for a picture of a Japanese actress? I'd really appreciate it if you could. You can give this one to Hibari-san over at Koshiba."

"You're being greedy. I'm giving this to you, and only you, as a special gift. Not to Hibari. No, because she's mean."

"Is that so? Well then, I'll take it. Daniel?"

"Danielle. Danielle Darrieux."

Listening to their conversation, I continued my stretching exercises without a smile, but I was truly not amused. Was I really so disliked by Maa-bou? Of course, I hadn't thought I was liked, but I never imagined I was hated by her alone to this extent. Even when I thought I had placed myself at the lowest position, there was still a bottom beneath the bottom. Are humans, after all, living intoxicated by their own illusions? Reality felt harsh. What exactly was wrong with me? I decided I would seriously ask Maa-bou about it next time. And that opportunity came sooner than expected.