Pathway to Japanese Literature

Diary of a Madman

Several brothers of a certain person had all been friends of mine from middle school, but after being separated for so long, our correspondence had grown sporadic.
When I heard that someone had suddenly fallen gravely ill, I stopped by on my way back to my hometown and met only one person.
The one who had fallen ill was that person's younger brother, and though you had gone to the trouble of visiting, he told me the patient had already fully recovered, become an official candidate, and been assigned to a certain location—then laughed uproariously and produced two volumes of diaries.
Examining these made clear the patient's condition at that time.
Since he said they could be dedicated to our old friends, I took them home and read through them. The illness turned out to be a persecution complex—the narrative was hopelessly tangled, devoid of coherence and replete with nonsense.
Though undated, the inconsistent ink colors and handwriting styles made evident these weren't written at one sitting, though occasional connections existed between entries.
Thinking this might still prove useful to specialists, I compiled them into a single volume without correcting a single erroneous word, altering only the names within the accounts.
The title was what the patient himself had assigned after his recovery, which I retained unchanged.

April 2, Year Seven. Recorded.

I

Tonight, the moonlight is remarkably beautiful.

I hadn't seen it for over thirty years, but seeing it tonight left my mind refreshingly clear—for the first time I realized how utterly dazed those thirty-odd years before had been.
Still, better safe than sorry.
If there were truly no need for caution, why would that Zhao family cur be staring into my eyes like this?

There is reason for me to fear.

II

There was not a shred of moonlight tonight.
I sensed something amiss and cautiously slipped out through the gate early, yet Mr. Chou Kuei-weng's gaze struck me as peculiar.
He seemed to fear me.
They appeared resolved to destroy me.
Seven or eight others clustered together, heads bowed and ears pressed close, whispering about me.
They dreaded being observed by me.
Every passerby carried themselves thus.
Among them, the most repulsive wretch grinned with his maw agape.
A chill pierced me from crown to toe.
I understood.
Their scheme had been fully laid.
As I strode unflinching, a pack of children ahead resumed their murmurs about me.
Their stares mirrored Mr. Chou Kuei-weng's precisely, faces all ghastly pale.
What grievance could these whelps possibly hold against me?
This was beyond endurance.
When I bellowed, "Explain yourselves to me!" they scattered like startled mice.

What grudge could there possibly be between me and Mr. Chou Kuei-weng? What grudge could there possibly be between me and the people on the street? That's it. Twenty years ago, I once crushed Mr. Gu Jiu’s ancient ledgers underfoot. At that time Mr. Gu Jiu was greatly displeased; but since Mr. Chou Kuei-weng and he are not acquainted, he must have heard about that incident through others and taken umbrage—thereby causing even passersby to come to resent me. But what on earth could be the reason with these children? Even though they couldn’t have been born yet back then, why do they stare at me with such peculiar looks? They seem to fear me. They seem to be planning to take me down. It’s truly a terrifying thing. It's truly a heartrending thing.

Ah! I’ve got it.
This must have been taught to them by their mothers.

III

I couldn’t sleep a wink all night.
When I research anything thoroughly, I gradually come to understand.

They—had been whipped by the district magistrate.
They had been slapped by gentlemen.
They had their noses pulled by petty officials.
Moreover, their parents had been hounded by moneylenders and driven to forced deaths.
Even their expressions back then hadn’t been as terrifying as yesterday’s.

What struck me as most bizarre was that woman I had encountered on the street yesterday.
She was hitting a child while staring fixedly at me.
“Uncle! I won’t rest till I’ve bitten you two or three times!”
This left me utterly startled, but those bared-teeth pale-faced figures—whatever possessed them—all burst into laughter.
Then Chen Lao-wu came striding over, seized me by the collar, and dragged me back home.
The family members pretended not to see me; they entered the study and locked it behind them—but why was I being treated like poultry? This made no sense at all.

Four or five days ago, a tenant farmer from Wolf Village came to report hardship.
He was talking to my Elder Brother.
In the village there was a single great villain; they ganged up and beat him to death, but among them were those who dug out his heart, fried it in oil, and ate it.
They say that doing so builds courage.
When I interjected a single remark, the tenant farmer and Elder Brother shot me a sharp look.
I now realized that their gazes were exactly the same as those of the people I had encountered yesterday.

Just recalling it makes me shudder.
Since they're accustomed to devouring humans, nothing prevents them from eating me too.

Behold.
...That woman saying she'd bite you, the crowd's bared teeth in ghastly pale grins, the tenant farmer's story from the other day—all of these were coded signals.
I found poison exactly as it lay within their words, I found blades exactly as they stood—their fangs ghastly white and glistening; these were the true instruments of cannibalism.

No matter how I think about it, I am not a villain, but ever since stumbling upon Mr. Gu Jiu’s ancient ledgers, I have grown deeply suspicious.
They seem to harbor some judgment, but I cannot begin to fathom its nature.
What’s more, since they avert their faces while spreading rumors branding me a villain, it becomes utterly unfathomable.
This reminds me—Elder Brother once made me compose a thesis.
In character critiques, whenever there appeared even the slightest disparaging remark about any upstanding figure, he would promptly mark them with circles.
Because he deemed slanderous writing praiseworthy, whenever such phrases surfaced, he would extol them as “A world-overturning masterstroke, unlike the common herd.”
Thus there remains no path for me to comprehend their minds.
Least of all when they contemplate devouring people.

When I researched anything thoroughly enough—I gradually came to realize—people had been eating people since ancient times.
I wasn’t entirely unaware of this either, but since my memory remained unclear, I opened a history book to check. This history lacked dates and was warped and twisted—on every page were written characters like “benevolence, righteousness, virtue, and morality.”
When I stayed awake staring at it until midnight, characters finally began to emerge from between the characters.
Crammed across every page were the two characters: “Cannibalism.”

All these characters were precisely what the tenant farmer had recounted through his various tales.
They erupted in raucous laughter while fixing me with their sinister stares.

After all—I too am human.
They intend to devour me.

IV

In the morning, as I sat quietly meditating, Chen Lao-wu brought in a meal.
A plate of vegetables, a plate of steamed fish.
The fish's eyes were white and hard, its mouth gaping wide—exactly like those people who want to eat humans.
When I touched it with chopsticks—slippery and slimy—was this fish? Or human? Then and there I vomited up every last bit of my guts.

“Lao-wu, tell Elder Brother this.
“I think I’ll walk in the courtyard—this stifling restlessness is unbearable.”

Lao-wu left without replying but soon returned to open the gate.
I studied their arrangements without moving a muscle.
They have no intention of releasing me.
Sure enough, Elder Brother pulled along an old man and came strolling over.
His eyes were filled with a sinister light; as if fearing my discernment, he kept his head bowed toward the ground, peering at me furtively from the edge of his glasses.

“Elder Brother said.”

“You seem much better today.”
“Yes.”
“Since I’ve had Dr. Nan come today, have him examine you.”
“Oh, is that so?”

How could I possibly not know this old man was an executioner? Under pretense of checking pulses, he measured my fleshiness—plotting to claim his portion of meat as reward through this service. I no longer feared them. Though I abstain from cannibalism, my spiritual guts outmeasure yours all! Thrusting forth both fists, I resolved to witness his methods firsthand. The physician sat with closed eyes—now stroking absently, now staring vacantly—then suddenly bared his demonic eyeballs—

“You mustn’t think about all sorts of things.”
“If you stay quiet, you’ll get better soon.”

Hmph! "You mustn't think about all sorts of things"—if I stay quiet, I'll fatten up nicely!
They get to eat even more—good for them—but what good does that do me?
There's no such thing as "getting better soon."
This horde of people—intent on devouring others—lurks in shadows and parades in sunlight, scheming up petty shields as methods, yet never managing to settle matters swiftly; truly laughable.
I could endure no longer and burst into uproarious laughter, becoming thoroughly delighted.
I know full well.
Within this laughter dwell valor and sanity.
The Old Doctor and Elder Brother turned pale.
They were quelled by my courage and sanity.

But because of this courage, they increasingly want to eat me.
In other words, they want to absorb this courage.

The Old Doctor stepped out through the gate and, before going far, said in a low voice, “Let’s eat him quickly.”
Elder Brother nodded in understanding.
So it was you all along.
This monumental discovery may seem shocking at first glance, yet it is anything but unexpected.
The one gathering companions to devour me is none other than my own Elder Brother.

The one devouring people is none other than my Elder Brother!

I am a cannibal’s brother!

Though I myself will be devoured by others, even so, I remain a cannibal’s brother!

V

Over these past few days, I took a step back and thought it through. Even if that old doctor weren't an executioner but a real physician, he would still be a cannibal. When I looked at their patriarch Li Shizhen's work - that Compendium of Materia Medica or whatever they call it - it clearly states humans should be boiled and eaten. Could he still claim not to devour human flesh?

As for my Elder Brother, it was only natural people spoke of him that way. When lecturing from texts, those very lips had once uttered directly: "Exchange the child and eat it." Another time, by chance, he'd argued with some disagreeable fellow. During that dispute, he declared it only natural they be killed, that one should rightly eat their flesh and sleep upon their hide. Back then I was still young, but my heart pounded for hours afterward.

Just the other day when the tenant farmer from Wolf Village came telling of eating livers, he showed no particular surprise, just kept shaking his head rhythmically. See there! The roots of cruelty run deep. If "exchanging children to eat them" counts as virtue, then anything can be traded away. Anyone at all can be devoured.

I'd been half-listening to his lectures back then, but now when I think back on that time, I see human grease glistening at the corners of his mouth, his belly swollen near bursting with hunger to consume people.

VI

A pitch-black pelt—is it day or night? I can't tell.
The Zhao family's dog dares to start wailing.

Lion-like savagery, rabbit-like cowardice, fox-like guile...

VII

I saw through their methods.
To kill me quickly was both repugnant to them and something they would never attempt.
Fearing divine retribution, the multitude had conspired to spread their net and force me into suicide.
Through four or five days of observing passersby and Elder Brother's movements, I had grasped eighty or ninety percent of their scheme.
The most convenient method would be for me to untie my belt, hang it from the beam, and strangle myself—thus absolving them of murder charges.
Then their wish would naturally be fulfilled as they rejoiced with rat-like weeping.
Yet even one who died from shock, fear, grief, and sorrow—losing some weight wouldn't render the corpse entirely useless.

They were devouring carrion!—I recalled something written in a book: there existed a creature called "Haiyina". Their gaze and appearance were utterly repulsive. They always fed on carrion, crunching even the largest bones to splinters before swallowing them down into their bellies. Even recalling it filled me with dread, but this "Haiyina" was kin to wolves, and wolves were the progenitors of dogs. The other day, the Zhao family’s cur had looked at me countless times—ah, so he too was part of their conspiratorial gang; they must have already reached an agreement. No matter how much that old doctor stared at the ground, did he think he could hoodwink me? Most pitiable of all was my Elder Brother. He too was human. Without even considering it a terrible thing, why did they gather comrades to devour me? It must have been that through age-old customs, they didn’t consider it a bad thing. Or had they lost all conscience and were deliberately committing these acts despite knowing better?

I curse the cannibals.
First he instigates and recruits their kind, then he makes the first move.

VIII

Now that I think of it, they had clearly grasped this very logic all along.

Suddenly, a man appeared.
He was around twenty years old, his features were rather indistinct, but he wore a smile across his entire face and bowed to me.
His smile didn’t look like a real one.
I asked.

“Did the cannibal work go well?”

He still spoke with a laugh.

“It’s not like it’s a famine year—we couldn’t possibly eat people.”

I immediately realized he was one of them.
When I thought that they must take pleasure in eating people, my courage surged a hundredfold, and I resolved to press him with questions.

“Did it go well?”

“What’s the point asking that? Do you truly understand? You’re just joking around now—look how fine this weather is!”

The weather was clear and the moon bright.
But I meant to question you.

“Did it go well, eh?”

He must have thought it improper.
He gave an evasive reply.

“It’s not—”

“Not allowed? Those bastards have already devoured them, haven’t they?”

“That’s something that doesn’t even exist.”

“Something that doesn’t exist? In Wolf Village they’re eating people right now, and it’s clearly written in the books. They’re fresh off the press.”

His complexion changed to iron-blue as he widened his eyes and said:

“There might be some, but well… that’s just how it is.”

“Well, that’s just how it is.”
“So it worked out then?”

“I won’t have this talk with you.”
“You’re fundamentally wrong.”
“Every word makes you more mistaken.”

I jerked upright and opened my eyes to find my entire body drenched in sweat, but that person was nowhere to be seen.

He is far younger than my Elder Brother in age, but this fellow is undoubtedly one of their comrades.
Surely their parents have taught him, and now he will pass it on to his children.
Therefore, all the little children glare at me hatefully.

IX

If they ate people themselves， they feared being eaten by others; thus everyone peered into each other’s faces with suspicious eyes.
If only they could have rid themselves of this mindset—how bright everything would have been as they worked in peace， walking roads， eating meals， or sleeping soundly.
It was precisely because of this single threshold， this one barrier， that parents and children， siblings， spouses， friends， mentors and disciples， sworn enemies， even complete strangers—all clustered together， urging each other onward while checking each other’s movements， refusing even in death to take that one step across.

X

Early in the morning, when I went to Elder Brother’s place, he was gazing at the sky outside the hall door. I approached him from behind, stood blocking the doorway, and spoke to him very quietly and very amiably.

“Elder Brother, I have something to say to you.”

“You, go ahead and say it.”

He turned his face toward me and nodded.

“I ought to speak of a few things, but I wonder if I can phrase them properly.
“Elder Brother, originally, all savages ate people.
“As time passed, their way of thinking changed; among them emerged those who stopped eating people—individuals of superior quality who transformed into humans, into true humans.
“There were those who, like vermin, kept eating people forever.
“There were those who transformed into fish, birds, or apes before becoming human.
“There were those who never even considered doing good and remain vermin even now.
“When compared to those who don’t eat people, aren’t those who do eat people truly detestable and shameful?
“Vermin are far more despicable than apes.”

Though Yi Ya steaming his child to feed Jie and Zhou lies too far in the past for anyone to clearly grasp, it may be that from Pangu’s creation of heaven and earth straight through Yi Ya’s era, they kept eating children; from Yi Ya’s descendants all the way to Xu Xilin, and from Xu Xilin to the man caught in Wolf Village—they may have kept eating without cease.
Last year too, when a criminal was executed within the city walls, a consumptive person dipped steamed buns in his blood and ate them.

“If those people intend to eat me, you alone will be utterly unable to stop it.
But there’s no need whatsoever to go over there and join their group.
If they eat me, you will also be eaten.
In the end, it’s just comrades devouring each other.
But if they were to slightly alter their approach and reform immediately here and now, people could live in peace and security; no matter how entrenched past customs may be, we could implement a special improvement today.
What? Are you saying it can’t be done?
Elder Brother, I believe you could certainly do it if you tried.
Just like when the tenant farmers recently demanded reduced rent and you dismissed them by saying it was impossible.”

At first he merely sneered, but soon his eyes began to glint ominously, and by the time their secret had been laid bare, his entire face turned deathly pale.
Outside the front gate stood a large crowd, with Mr. Chou Kuei-weng and his dog among them, all edging cautiously closer.
Some seemed to be covering their faces to avoid being seen.
Others still laughed with their usual pallid faces, teeth bared yet suppressed.
I knew they were all of the same cannibal tribe, yet also knew their thoughts differed.
One type believed eating people was permissible under age-old customs, while the other type knew it wrong yet still hungered.
Fearing exposure of their secrets, they grew angrier at my words—lips pursed tight, sneers twisting their faces.

At that moment, Elder Brother suddenly revealed a ferocious countenance and thundered.

“Everyone out! What’s so amusing about gawking at a madman?”

At that same moment, I grasped their cunning stratagem.
Not only did they refuse repentance, but they had already meticulously arranged to pin the label of 'madman' upon me, intending to preserve plausible deniability when devouring me later.
The tale of how the masses devoured that villainous tenant farmer followed precisely this method—this was indeed their standard practice.

Chen Lao-wu came storming over, seething with indignation.
No matter how they try to silence me, I will keep saying it to the end.

“You all must repent.”
“Repent from your very core!”
“Well? Do you understand?”
“Those who eat people will find no place in society’s future—they cannot hope to survive.”
“If you refuse to repent, even I will be devoured.”
“The more your kind multiplies, the more you’ll be wiped out by true humans.”
“Just as hunters purge wolves—like vermin.”

They were all driven away by Chen Lao-wu.
Chen Lao-wu persuaded me and made me return to my room.
The room was pitch dark, and the beams and rafters were trembling overhead.
After trembling for a while, they swelled up greatly and piled onto my body.

What a weight this was!
I couldn’t repel it.
Their scheme wanted me dead.
Because I knew this weight was falsehood itself, when I tried pushing it away, sweat erupted across my body.
But I would keep saying it to the end.

“You must repent immediately—repent sincerely! Well? Do you understand?”
“Those who eat people will never be tolerated in the future.”

一一

The sun does not rise.
The gate does not open.
Two meals each day.

I twisted the chopsticks and recalled Elder Brother.
I understood.
My sister’s death was entirely his doing.
At that time my sister had just turned five years old; her endearing, adorable appearance remains vivid before my eyes now.
When Mother kept weeping, he tried to console her, saying she mustn’t cry—since he himself had likely done the eating; if she started wailing now, it might prick his conscience a little.
But does he truly feel any pity…

My sister was eaten by Elder Brother.
Mother knew that sister was gone.
I suppose I will pretend not to know.

Mother must also know.
When she cried, she didn’t say anything.
She probably thought it perfectly natural.
Then I remembered—when I was four or five years old cooling off in the front hall, Elder Brother had said:
"When parents fall ill, children ought to slice off a piece of their own flesh, boil it, and feed it to them—only then can they be called filial."
Mother never said one shouldn’t do such things either.
Take one piece and you’ll gradually gobble down the whole lot.
Yet even now when I recall how she wept that day, it moves one to human sorrow.
This is truly strange.

一二

I can't even imagine.

For four thousand years, I finally came to understand those places where people are sometimes eaten.
I too had been part of it for many years.
At the time when Elder Brother was managing the household affairs, my sister died.
He quietly mixed it into the dishes; it’s not impossible that he made us eat it.

It’s not impossible that I myself, unknowingly, have eaten some of my sister’s flesh.
Now at last comes this lord’s turn...

For four thousand years there has been a history of cannibalism—this I hadn’t known before, but now I see clear.
True humans prove hard to find.

13

There may perhaps be children who do not eat people.

Save them! Save them!
Children...

(April 1918)