Dogra Magra (6/47)

by Hisashi Yumeno

"You don't have to worry. I just rearranged the specimens. Please tell the president that as well. Actually, there's a reason for this, and I'd like you to hear it... To be honest, regarding myself, now that I've become a university professor, when I think about it, I believe I'm a kind of research fanatic, or perhaps a megalomaniac. I diagnose myself as fully qualified to be research material for psychiatrists... But it's too late for me to come forward now and admit myself into my own hospital room. For now, I just wanted to display my own brain as a living specimen alongside these reference materials... Of course, this might not be necessary in internal medicine or surgery, but in psychiatry, the chief professor's brain must also be treated as a piece of research material... Thorough research must be conducted... That's my attitude towards academic research, so it can't be helped. I'm sure Professor Saitō, who built this specimen room, is applauding in agreement from underground..."

When Dr. Wakabayashi said that and burst into laughter, even the seasoned administrator Tsukae was reportedly left bewildered and retired.

Dr. Wakabayashi's explanation was delivered very smoothly and plainly, yet it was enough to astound me. The moment I felt the true brilliance of Dr. Masaki's intellect, which I had only heard described with adjectives until then, shine through such an ordinary joke, I involuntarily shivered. Not only did it far transcend the common sense and rules valued by society, but through the half-joking sentiment of considering himself nothing more than a specimen of a madman, the clarity of his mind—which mocked the entire university, no, scholars worldwide—the pungency and greatness of his irony, became clearly understandable to me, leaving me simply dumbfounded with my mouth agape.

However, Dr. Wakabayashi continued speaking, oblivious to my surprise.

"Now, the purpose of bringing you to this room is none other than this: as I just explained in Room 7 downstairs, first and foremost, I want to test which of the specimens and reference materials displayed in this room attracts your attention the most. This is a method to explore the human subconscious, that is, memories buried deep within that cannot be recalled through normal means. It has been proven numerous times that the subconscious is constantly active without the person's awareness and strongly governs them. I believe that past memories sealed within your subconscious will lead you to a memento of your past displayed somewhere in this room, vividly bringing them back to mind. ...It is said that Dr. Masaki once learned this method from a unique female shaman during his travels in the Balkan Peninsula and succeeded in his experiments... Of course, if by any chance you are a complete stranger with no connection to the first young lady, this experiment will absolutely not succeed. This is because there would be no memento in this room to evoke your past memories... Therefore, anything is fine. Please ask questions one by one about anything that catches your eye in this room. As if you yourself were conducting research on mental illness... If you do that, eventually, something about one item will strike you like lightning. That will be the first hint to evoke your past memories, and after that, you will probably recall all of your past memories in one go."

Dr. Wakabayashi's words flowed out smoothly, still extremely nonchalantly.

It was as if an adult was speaking to a child, with a light and kind feeling... However, as I listened, I could no longer suppress a new shiver, one I hadn't experienced since this morning, rising from the depths of my heart.

The suspicion I had felt for some time, that everything was preposterous, was completely overturned as I listened to Dr. Wakabayashi's explanation.

Dr. Wakabayashi was indeed an authoritative forensic pathologist. Even if he genuinely believed me to be her lover, he was by no means trying to force me to think so. In the most fair and impartial, and most circuitous scientific way, he was encircling my psyche without an inch of a gap, trying to make me point to myself as her lover with my own hands. The depth of his conviction... the coolness of his plan... its thoroughness...

...If that was the case, then perhaps the various events I had seen and heard earlier were indeed related to my own circumstances. Perhaps that girl was indeed my legitimate cousin, and at the same time, my fiancée...

...If that were true, then I would be involuntarily responsible for finding my own past mementos in this room for her. And I would be standing here now, destined to recall past memories and save her from her madness.

Oh, what a situation! To have to search for "my own past" in a "specimen room of a madhouse." To have to find proof that an unparalleled beautiful girl, who should be a stranger, is my fiancée among "reference materials for psychiatric research"... What a strange position I am in. It is a shameful, terrifying, and incomprehensible fate.

Thinking such thoughts, I unconsciously wiped the sweat from my forehead with a new handkerchief and began to cautiously look around the room again. The eerie imagination that an unexpected past self might be hiding right under my nose trembled deep within my heart, making me shrink back. I timidly surveyed the room once more.

The western half, divided north-south from the center of the room, had ordinary wooden flooring, with glass display cases filled with what appeared to be specimens standing in the way. Meanwhile, the floor of the eastern half was covered with a thin layer of dust over linoleum, and in its center lay a large table, about four or five shaku wide and two ken long, flanked by two swivel chairs with armrests. The green baize covering the surface of the table, also coated with a thin layer of dust, reflected the light streaming in from the southern window dazzlingly, seemingly enhancing the solemnity of the room. In the center of that green reflection, several bound documents sandwiched between canvas-covered cardboard and a blue square melton cloth bundle were meticulously arranged as if with great importance, but these too were covered in a uniform layer of gray dust. It seemed they had been left untouched for a long time. In front of them, a red Daruma ash tray, also covered in gray dust, was placed with its back to the documents, its hairy arms clasped above its head, its large mouth open, as if perpetually yawning. Its appearance, as if deliberately placed in that position, strangely caught my attention.

The eastern wall, directly opposite the red Daruma, was freshly painted eggshell yellow, with a large fireplace in the center, easily big enough for one person to sit in, covered by a black square lid. Directly above it hung a large round clock, over two shaku in diameter, showing the current time, seven forty-two, without a sound from its second hand. It seemed to be electrically operated. To its right hung a large oil painting in a gold-framed frame, and to its left, a large enlarged photograph in a black frame and a calendar. To the left of that portrait photograph, a door leading to the next room was visible. As I gazed at this scene, where everything was dazzlingly or clearly illuminated in the refreshing morning light, creating a solemn silence befitting a university professor's study, I naturally felt the urge to straighten my collar.

In fact, at this moment, I felt as if I had been struck by some sublime inspiration. The indifferent feeling I had from the beginning, and my curiosity about her fate, had vanished somewhere, and I was filled with a sacred feeling of entrusting everything to destiny. I adjusted the collar of my stand-up uniform with both hands, and with the feeling of an ascetic guided by a mysterious fate, I slowly stepped forward and walked into the row of cabinets where the reference materials were displayed.

I first approached the cabinets lined up near the bright south-facing window. Inside the glass doors facing the window, various strange documents and hanging scrolls were displayed, each with a simple explanatory note attached. According to Dr. Wakabayashi's explanation, all of these were submitted by inpatients to the chief professor, meaning, "My head has healed this much, so please discharge me."

—Hanging scroll of Hina dolls drawn with gum blood— (Created by a female university graduate)

—A Written Proposal for the Conquest of Mars— (Submitted by an elementary school teacher)

—Tang Poetry Selection, Five-Character Quatrain "Bamboo Grove Pavilion" in clerical script— (Written by an uneducated, illiterate farmer who, after falling ill, reproduced the subconscious of his great-grandfather, a Chinese herbal doctor, through atavism)

—Dozens of sheets of Western half-paper with dozens of pages of the Encyclopedia Britannica memorized and transcribed— (Submitted by a university student who failed the higher civil service examination)

—Dozens of student notebooks filled with only repetitions of the same phrase, "Katyusha, my dear, the pain of parting"— ("Creation" by an unemployed aspiring actor who claimed to be a great artist)

—Paper pocket sundial— (Made by an old barber)

—Statue of the Virgin Mary carved into red brick with bamboo splinters— (Made by an elementary school principal who believed in Catholicism)

—Kannon statue hardened with boogers, in a glass case— (Made by a Soto Zen Buddhist preacher)

As one miserable and pathetic item after another appeared, I instinctively turned my face away and tried to pass by before seeing all of them in that row. However, at that moment, I suddenly noticed a strange object placed in the innermost corner of the cabinet, where a glass door was broken, slightly separated from the other exhibits. At first, it was an inconspicuous item, barely catching my eye thanks to the broken glass, but the more I looked at it, the stranger it seemed as an exhibit.

It was a stack of manuscript paper, about five sun high, bound together. It seemed to have been read by quite a few people, as the top few sheets were torn and tattered. Carefully reaching my hand through the broken glass, being careful not to get cut, I found that it was divided into five volumes, with each first page numbered in red ink. Turning over the half-torn first page of the topmost volume, I saw something like a waka written horizontally in red ink katakana, in a notebook style.

Opening Poem

Fetus, fetus, why do you leap? Is it because you understand

Your mother's heart and are afraid?

On the next page, the title "Dogra Magra" was written in black ink in Gothic script, but there was no author's name.

The very first line began with strange, sound-like characters: "Booooo—nnnnn...nnnnn..." However, seeing that the last line also ended similarly with "Booooo—nnnnn...nnnnn...", I felt that this might be a continuous novel. Overall, it was a lengthy manuscript that gave off an impression of being somewhat mocking and insane.

"...What is this, Doctor? This 'Dogra Magra'..."

Dr. Wakabayashi, in an unusually lighthearted manner, nodded from behind me.

"Yes. It is one of those rare and interesting works that expresses the inscrutability of a psychopath's mental state. It was written all at once and submitted to me by a young university student patient who was admitted to this annex ward immediately after Professor Masaki, the head of our department, passed away."

"A young university student..."

"That's right."

"...So, was it written to prove the soundness of his mind, perhaps with the intention of asking for discharge?"

"No, that's still not clear, so I'm actually struggling to make a judgment, but in short, this content can be described as a kind of super-conventional science story written with Professor Masaki and me as models."

"...A super-conventional science story... modeled after you and Dr. Masaki..."

"Exactly."

"It's not a thesis...?"

「...That's right. As for that aspect, I really can't say much, but while many writings by psychiatric patients are said to be argumentative, this work is special. In other words, the whole thing looks like a consistent academic paper, and it also leaves the impression of a detective novel with a form and content unlike anything seen before. On the other hand, it could also be considered a meaningless rambling essay written simply to mock and toy with Professor Masaki and my intellect, making it a truly bizarre piece of writing. The factual content incorporated within it is also very unusual, with scientific interests, grotesque interests, erotic expressions, detective interests, nonsense elements, and mystical interests overlapping in every corner of the entire work, making it an extremely dazzling concept. When read calmly, a creepy, eerie aura, which one would think could only be written by a mentally deranged person, permeates the entire work... Of course, it is completely different in nature from the proposal for the conquest of Mars, and it was recognized as having high research value in mental science, which is why it is stored here. I believe it is probably the most peculiar reference material not only in this room... no, in the entire field of psychiatry worldwide.」

Dr. Wakabayashi, eager for me to read this manuscript, gradually began to explain it more volubly. His enthusiasm was so unusual that I blinked in surprise.

「Oh? How could such a young psychiatric patient come up with such a complex and difficult plot?」

"...It's like this. That young student was a brilliant individual who consistently ranked first from his first year of elementary school until his graduation from high school. However, he was extremely fond of detective novels and believed that the future of detective novels lay in psychology, psychoanalysis, and psychiatric science. As a result, he seems to have developed a mental abnormality. He orchestrated an astonishing tragedy, trapped by his own hallucinations and delusions. And soon after being admitted to this psychiatric ward, he apparently felt compelled to write a chilling story based on himself... Moreover, while the concept of that novel, as I mentioned before, is extremely complex and precise, the general plot is surprisingly simple. In other words, it's merely a detailed description of the suffering that young man endured, confined to this ward and subjected to unimaginably terrifying psychiatric experiments, all for the sake of Professor Masaki and me."

"...Oh. Do you have such memories, Doctor?"

Under Dr. Wakabayashi's eyes, the same cynical, lonely smile lines as before appeared. They caught the backlight from the window, shining white and twitching.

"Absolutely not."

"Then it's all nonsense, isn't it?"

"However, when you look at the facts written, only descriptions that are hard to dismiss as nonsense appear."

"Hmm. That's strange. Could such a thing be possible?"

"Well... I'm actually undecided on that point too... but you'll understand if you read it..."

"No, I don't need to read it, but is the content interesting?"

"Well... I'm a bit at a loss to explain that point, but it seems to be a content that evokes such profound interest that the description 'interesting' doesn't even begin to cover it for experts. Even for non-experts, it seems to be a very fascinating subject for those with some scientific interest in mental illness and the brain, or a mystical hobby. In fact, among the experts at our university, those who have read this seem to have reread it at least two or three times. And they say that as soon as they finally understood the overall structure, they realized their own brain was on the verge of going mad. In severe cases, one person became disgusted with the study of mental illness after reading this manuscript and transferred to the forensic medicine department I oversee, and another person, after reading this manuscript, lost faith in the workings of their own brain and committed suicide by train, saying they would kill themselves."

"Oh. That sounds like an incredible story. Sane people were outdone by a mentally ill person. It must contain something extremely insane."

"...However, the description of its content is extremely calm, logically organized, and surpasses ordinary papers and novels. Furthermore, I am still amazed by the extraordinary memory characteristic of people with mental abnormalities. It's incomparable to 'memorizing and transcribing the Encyclopedia Britannica.' ...And another thing, the strangeness of its concept goes beyond ordinary people's reasoning and imagination, and as you read on, you somehow get drawn into strange hallucinations, delusions, and perverted ideas. In that sense, I think such a title was given..."

"...So, this title, 'Dogra Magra,' was given by the person themselves?"

"Yes, that's right. It's a truly strange title, but..."

"...What does it mean? The true meaning of this word 'Dogra Magra'... Is it Japanese, or...?"

“...Well... I was confused about that too. In short, this sentence, from the title to the content, can only be considered to be thoroughly designed to mislead people. ...This is because after I finished reading this manuscript, I was fascinated by the strangeness of its content, and I thought that perhaps the key to solving that strange mystery was hidden in this title. I thought that this 'Dogra Magra' might be a code word with that meaning. ...However, the young patient who wrote this manuscript, in just about a week, exerted the unique energy of a mentally ill person and wrote it day and night without sleep. As a result, perhaps because he was tired, he began to sleep soundly day and night, and I was unable to ask him the meaning of this title for a while. ...However, such strange words cannot be found in any dictionary or anything, and their etymology is of course not clear, so I was temporarily stuck. However, I soon accidentally noticed something interesting. Originally, in this Kyushu region, many old European-derived dialect words such as 'geren,' 'haraiso,' 'banko,' 'dontaku,' and 'terenparen' seem to remain as dialects, so I thought that perhaps it was a type of those. So, I had an enthusiastic person who specializes in studying such dialects investigate it, and I finally understood. ...This word 'Dogra Magra' is a dialect of the Nagasaki region that referred to the illusionary magic used by Christians until around the Meiji Restoration, and now it is a kind of obsolete word that is only used to mean simply magic or trick. Its etymology and lineage are not yet known.”However, if I were to force a translation, it would be a story where one could apply the characters for the current 'Genmajutsu' (Illusionary Arts) or 'Doumeguri Mekurami' (Dizzying Roundabout) and 'Tomadoi Menkui' (Perplexed Face-eater), and read them similarly as 'Dogra Magra'. In any case, it is undoubtedly a word that encompasses all such meanings. ...In other words, I believe these names were given because the content of this manuscript is thoroughly grotesque, succinctly erotic, like a detective novel, and at the same time nonsensical... a kind of hell of the brain, or filled with tricks like a psychological labyrinth game."

"...A hell of the brain... Dogra Magra... I still don't quite understand... What exactly does it mean?"

"...You might get a slight idea if I tell you about the matters described in this manuscript. ...That is, all the problems recorded in this 'Dogra Magra' story are matters that cannot be denied by common sense, are easy to understand, and interesting, yet they are all facts based on the manifestation of profound truths that transcend common sense. For example,

...The lines from the Aho-dara Sutra that poignantly express the fact that "a mental hospital is a living hell on earth"...

...The transcribed talks of a mental scientist proving the fact that "every single human being in the world is mentally ill"...

...An academic paper on the great nightmare of universal evolution with a fetus as the protagonist...

...The recorded speech of a mental patient who declared that "the brain is nothing more than a kind of telephone exchange"...

...A will written half in jest...

...A decaying image of a beautiful deceased woman painted by a master craftsman of the Tang dynasty...

...Investigation documents concerning the cruel, unfaithful, unbearable injury, and murder cases unconsciously committed by a beautiful young man who had been loved by that decaying beauty during her lifetime..."