Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

Youth is a time abundant in dreams.

Youth must have dreams.

Youth’s dreams are beautiful, and they are distant.

What exactly is a “dream”?

Here, of course, the reference is not to dreams during sleep.

When the mind is clear, it refers to those phantom-like thoughts that come and go within that mind; moreover, those thoughts are of a nature that they always shine as hope and blaze up as passion.

A “dream,” in contrast to “reality,” constitutes the supreme form of “what one wishes to be.” Yet it remains something that can become future reality—or at least contains that potential—and indeed possesses a vitality interlinked with reality itself.

Dreams are formless things.
And they are exceedingly capricious.
At times, they spread before one’s eyes a world so vivid it seems tangible; at other times, they merely set the heart aflutter by tracing unfocused ripples through a haze of mist.

“When one speaks of ‘fantasy’ or ‘daydream,’ it somehow feels somewhat different from what I wish to express.”
Though there seems to be no need to forcibly distinguish these terms, yet simply saying “dream” conveys something more vigorous and expansive.

The purity and vigor of youth make their “dreams” thoroughly beautiful and bold.
No matter how far the wings of dreams may spread, there is no such thing as them spreading too far.

Youth’s “dreams” are an indistinct reflection of the “ideals” they envision.
They can roughly assemble the skeletal framework of their ideals yet lack the ability to fully construct it into a flesh-and-blood body.
In other words, not only is their grasp of “reality” extremely shallow, but they scarcely understand what power “reality” even wields—and it is precisely here that we find the quintessential dreams of youth.

While "dreams" may sometimes refer to mere "ambition," ambition itself is inherently an extremely realistic personal desire; if there is any dream-like quality to be found in it, it lies in the means employed to achieve that desire.
Although many are audacious, self-serving desires, those of youth, imbued with the nature of "dreams," are often purified to become "ambitions" or even "purpose."

"The term 'purpose' must now be clearly distinguished from terms such as 'ambition' or 'aspirations'."
Because it is, above all, not a self-centered “dream,” but rather something that, while grounded in the conditions of “reality,” anticipates the limitless development of one’s own strength through conviction and sets an absolute goal beyond all obstacles.

“Purpose” was a concept far removed from what people termed “aspirations,” possessing a far more solemn and resolute resonance—to put it plainly, it constituted the sincere devotion and passion that staked one’s very life in service to the nation.
“To embrace purpose,” as commonly understood until then, did not merely mean studying toward some objective; rather, it meant solidifying one’s resolve to step onto a path deemed difficult—a resolve born from an irrepressible feeling for the nation and guided by one’s own convictions.

Therefore, in eras such as the Bakumatsu period, “Reverence for the Emperor and Expulsion of Foreigners” constituted the very “purpose” that made Japanese people Japanese, and those who staked their lives for it were called “men of purpose.” However, even today, the spirit of “Reverence for the Emperor and Expulsion of Foreigners” must be upheld in a different form; yet unlike during the time of the Restoration, there exists no shogunate-like entity within the nation that must be overthrown, and the path all citizens should follow has been clearly and resplendently established. Therefore, today’s youth must regard the realization of their ‘purpose’ within their chosen vocational domains as the supreme happiness.

The issue that arose concerned the famous poem: “A man establishes his purpose and departs his hometown; if his studies do not bear fruit, he would rather die than return” (男子志を立てゝ郷関を出づ、学若し成るなくんば死すとも還らず).

The “purpose” mentioned here did not conform to the Japanese-style interpretation previously described but nevertheless illustrated the spirit of a youth departing his hometown with boundless hope for the future.
Were his academic pursuits to have stalled midway, his “purpose” would have remained entirely unfulfilled—leaving him unable to face his townspeople upon returning home—a sentiment whose tragic resolve was undeniably genuine yet somehow carried an air of solitary strain.
Now, everyone must have thought so.

Yet in past eras, this was precisely the kind of poem that resonated deeply with people’s hearts.
And might not the ethos of such an era still remain deeply rooted in rural areas even now?
In other words, it is the kind of ethos that views returning home to show off graduation diplomas or titles as “having achieved one’s scholarly purpose.”
And this connects to what might be called a sentimental careerism akin to “returning home in splendor,” and while many youths have been roused to action for this very reason, they have also frequently lost their way because of it.

I believe nothing lies further from youth’s true “purpose” than dreams of careerism.
If aspiring for career success is human nature, then why did they not endeavor to provide youth with dreams more beautiful than such success—dreams more profoundly human?

Boys of old dreamed of becoming ministers and generals, but that was an innocent form of heroism.
However, since the Meiji era, the ethos evident in that poem grew widespread, and many in rural areas came to believe they could not fulfill their purpose.
This was due in part to the rural atmosphere lacking the allure necessary to nurture the “dreams” of ambitious youth, and in part to the mistaken belief—which had taken root—that one could not become a fully realized individual without graduating from a specialized school.

To be sure, it is most commendable for those who have an interest in specialized work and are endowed with talent to advance along their respective paths as circumstances permit; on the other hand, inheriting family occupations and treading the path their ancestors trod is an equally admirable endeavor—one fully worthy of being deemed the “purpose” of Japanese youth.

However, what matters is whether there is a “dream” in that.

If one adopts an utterly commonplace way of thinking, no matter what family occupation they pursue, they would likely be satisfied simply by achieving considerable prosperity and gaining local prestige through it.
It was as if the prosperity of one’s household had come to be regarded as the purpose of all vocations.
Youth’s dreams must never be such things.
While I cannot speak concretely here about each individual Youth’s “dreams of how things ought to be,” at least, as evident from how “vocational service” is now being advocated today, all vocations are worthy of being chosen as paths for Youth to “pursue purpose” precisely when those vocations themselves aim for what the nation strives toward—and no matter how seemingly insignificant such work may appear, if one truly brings that work to life, it will always connect to a grand “dream.”

For the value of work is not measured merely by its “quantity,” but rather by its “quality”—and if we speak of quality, this becomes a matter of the “person,” for it is through one’s entire being that an individual generates a distinct social value through work.
And thus, the existence of that person—encompassing work—naturally results in being a light to society and the nation’s strength.

I know an admirable youth.
This youth was working as a postal worker in a certain mountain village.
What first caught my attention was the youth’s attitude.
In the manner of delivering mail to household members, there was an unmistakably conscientious quality evident—coupled with clear enunciation and remarkably nimble movements.
When an opportunity arose, I spoke intimately with that youth, and indeed, he proved to be a figure who had been recommended as an executive of the youth association and was guiding the village’s young people.
What particularly moved me was that the “dream” he harbored was truly splendid, and that his day-and-night struggle and efforts toward realizing this “dream” could be sufficiently discerned through simple and humble expressions.

In his work, he first thoroughly understood the warm, humanistic duty of delivering mail to each household and, within the bounds of not intruding upon family secrets, came to feel the joy and sorrow of those receiving letters as his own. But setting that aside, he studied the most efficient methods for performing his duties and constantly devised new innovations. He seemed to quietly welcome the increase in mail as a sign of the village’s development.

As a member of the youth association, he first devoted his efforts to uniting the village’s young people; recognizing that understanding local history was essential for self-cultivation, he commissioned one of the national school teachers to research this. While contemplating the village’s economy and energetically pursuing practical initiatives such as cooperative miso and soy sauce production, he simultaneously constructed in his mind a design for an ideal village—○○ Village a century hence—which, while not particularly novel, was remarkably thorough and grounded in meticulous investigation.

Facing the shrine stood statues of local luminaries and poetry monuments alongside schools, stadiums, museums, libraries, zoological and botanical gardens, open-air theaters, agricultural product exhibition grounds, and youth art exhibition halls—all forming an orderly precinct.
Centered around the village office were assembly halls, warehouses, hospitals, post offices, consumer cooperatives and other buildings neatly arranged in sequence.

The land consolidation incorporating new reclaimed areas had been completed while afforestation advanced according to plan; with its reservoir filled to capacity and surrounded by communal orchards, this ensemble formed a grand park.

Each hamlet had public telephones, firefighting equipment, nurseries, communal kitchens, and bathhouses; each household—through designs by experts respecting tradition and local climate—though varying in size embodied architecture befitting model mountain village farmhouses.
Moreover,the convenient yet familiar layout of every household was considered based on collective life patterns across each hamlet.
Village-dedicated carriages constantly transported people and goods.
The roads were perpetually maintained under each hamlet’s responsibility; radio listeners accounted for one hundred percent of households while newspapers—instead of individual subscriptions—were posted before bathhouses and circulated through neighborhood groups.

Moreover, the notable spirit contained within this plan lay in two aspects: first, that modern facilities were designed not to lull farmers into complacent living but rather to establish special methods enabling regular physical and mental discipline; and second, that this movement to build an ideal village refused to confine itself to a single settlement—instead rousing neighboring towns and villages to collaborate where necessary, resolutely rejecting satisfaction in our sole attainment of “model village” status. This truly represented a manifestation of national consciousness aligned with contemporary demands.

Regarding the reasons why such a plan was thought unachievable unless a hundred years passed, that youth spoke with utmost candor about the village’s actual conditions.
"If only everyone would get motivated," he said, "then even ten years from now, half the plan could easily be achieved."
Therein lay massive, invisible obstacles and difficulties—grave indeed for the nation.
Therefore, if this “dream” did not remain a self-indulgent fantasy imposed upon others through forceful attitudes, but instead consulted those who should be consulted and persuaded those who needed persuading until it advanced to become the collective will of the entire village, then for him, this very process transformed it into a “purpose.”

His occupation was that of a humble postal worker.
However, I firmly believed that his existence, if realized, would surely become the village’s guiding light and the region’s strength.

That Youth’s “dreams” being so-called “careerism” was truly a lamentable thing.
There were even those who argued that one could not accomplish great national endeavors without obtaining status and power.
“What, after all, constitutes ‘great national endeavors’?”
There could be no conception of great national endeavors apart from each citizen accumulating true capabilities and fully demonstrating them.
To obtain truly capable craftsmen, it was said that three generations must continue the trade.
How many such craftsmen existed in Japan?
There, too, should lie a “dream.”
There was no reason why Youth should not consider the era of their descendants.

II

When it comes to one of Youth’s “dreams,” it would undoubtedly be romantic love and marriage.

I imagine others will address this matter, but from the perspective of a nation’s culture and intertwined with the problem of dreams and reality, allow me to say a few words on Youth’s romantic love and marriage.

In any case, mutually attracting and binding with the opposite sex is life’s most ordinary yet most intriguing “event.”
Since ancient times, this very quality has been why countless poems and stories have ceaselessly returned to this theme without exhaustion.

When examined through the lens of human psychology or behavior, romantic love brimmed with intricate and delicate variations—transforming into a vivid picture scroll of shifting hues and intensities, at times unfurling scenes of heightened drama—whereas marriage was nearly always regarded as love’s ultimate conclusion or tended to be viewed as little more than a convenient means to “have a household.”

Consequently, romantic love was often conflated with sordid liaisons, and marriage was frequently reduced to a transactional formality—a deeply regrettable tendency that had emerged.

Romantic love is an impulse of the heart wherein one discovers “beauty” aligned with their desires within a specific member of the opposite sex, pursues their entirety as a sacred objective through this “beauty,” and fervently yearns for reciprocal regard.

Now, such “beauty” in the opposite sex largely does not exist objectively—indeed, there are theories positing that it is continually created and amplified by one’s own subjectivity within those to whom they feel drawn. Viewed thus, romantic love signifies a form of self-intoxication.
The declaration by a certain writer that love is a fever can no longer be deemed wholly extreme.

However, whether it be self-intoxication or feverish passion, since the issue ultimately lies in what role these play in a single human life, attitudes that either treat romantic love with mere frivolity or sacrifice everything for its sake must be deeply cautioned against.

What I wished to first address was the so-called "adolescence"—that period when, upon leaving boyhood and standing at the threshold of youth, one began to feel an inexplicable sense of bashfulness toward the opposite sex.

This period could indeed be called the most perilous for Youth, for it marked the threshold where during this time an "eye for perceiving the opposite sex" was cultivated—where one either acquired or failed to acquire those crucial social refinements essential for future interactions with the opposite sex in whatever form they might take.

If romantic love contains more or less an element of “dreams,” its most prominent phenomenon would be what one might call a vague “romantic sentiment” during the era of imagining love—encompassing adolescence—that is to say, a sentiment directed toward either no clear objective or “a beautiful member of the opposite sex floating in their fantasies.”

Next, there may also be instances where they pluck one person at random from among those of the opposite sex who happen to catch their eye and secretly direct playful affection toward them.

Even when playful affections lead to unintended tragedy, in this era, such wounds do not cut too deeply.

This kind of “dream,” if one were to call it ephemeral, is indeed boundlessly so; however, the fact that through these, real romantic love is prepared and its worth is largely predetermined in advance is something that cannot be overlooked.

Romantic love, if it can truly be called such, is indeed a “force.”

When men and women love each other, the manner in which they love—leading both themselves and their partners to grow, improve, and become stronger—is an indisputable fact both logically and through numerous examples.

Such “romantic love” is not something anyone can achieve; only those who are worthy can attain it.
Moreover, the partner must be suitable for this.

The most beautiful and wholesome romantic love is a union of souls between the most manly of men and the most womanly of women—mutually yearning, mutually entrusting, and mutually pledging.

The new world created by mutually loving men and women was one where all things abounded in richness, brimming with heat and light; where every matter became an emblem of hope; and where happiness stood ever ready to answer when called.

Yet, on the other hand, romantic love was the root of all psychological conflicts and remained as uncertain as the surface of water.
This fact naturally spoke to the multifaceted nature of romantic love—particularly its lurid aspects—but herein also lay the reason why so much of love came to be termed “anguish.”

What I wish for young men and women who envision “romantic love” as a “dream” is this: that regardless of whether they have a specific partner in mind, their “dream” remains unwaveringly close to the form that love ought to take; and that even if romantic love does not necessarily anticipate actual marriage, it is still carried forward upon the possibility of becoming one path toward marriage.

The form that love ought to take is something that only outstanding literature can teach you this.

To dream of romantic love as one path toward marriage was the solemn duty of those who, as members of the nation shouldering the next generation, must approach love with solemnity.

Moreover, even if romantic love was said to arise from subjective psychological processes, it remained inseparable from Youth’s mental refinement, and the “dreams” depicted therein could not be smothered by hues of hedonism, intoxication, self-satisfaction, or indulgence.
Provided one did not stray beyond conditions befitting their station and status, it went without saying that their partner’s image should be idealized in both body and mind—yet this idealization must not rely on shallow standards like “handsome men and beautiful women.” Rather, women were to single-mindedly envision truly manly men, and men were to single-mindedly envision truly womanly women, thereby making masculine pride resound in men’s hearts and feminine pride in women’s.
There would emerge the archetype of “human beauty”—a seamless unity of flesh and spirit, form and disposition.
I believed that without the capacity to conjure an image of a man or woman whose speech and actions, thoughts and deeds, expressions and moods—each and every facet—radiated charm, one could not know love worthy of the name.

Marriage must naturally shift its perspective from that of romantic love, yet there remains an aspect in the opinion that marriage and love are incompatible which one cannot fully agree with.

For if romantic love signifies the union of mutually loving men and women, then it inherently becomes a path toward marriage; moreover, marriage stands as the only form through which the sincerity of mutual affection between men and women finds expression.

It is true that marriage is entered into with the purpose of obtaining descendants; however, even so, this alone does not constitute its sole objective, and moreover, whether even this purpose can be successfully achieved depends entirely on how one selects their partner.

Even when one must resign oneself to being unable to have children, the innate qualities of any offspring and the manner of their upbringing thereby become the very significance of “marriage” itself.

“Marriage, too, must therefore have a great ‘dream.’”
That “dream” does not differ from that of romantic love in terms of beauty.
However, “marriage” is often bound by the laws of reality, and its “dream” is easily shattered by real-world conditions.

However, this stems from an error born of attempting to apply the laws of romantic love directly to marriage as they are.
The “idealization” of one’s partner in romantic love must transform into an “assimilation” within marriage—one that involves acknowledging each other’s flaws, mutually complementing strengths and weaknesses, and dissolving the boundaries between self and other to merge wholly into the household itself.

Since a marital bond of complete unity is something founded on substantial harmony of personalities—a step beyond romantic love—as a “dream,” it may at first glance lack splendor and mysterious shadows, but instead possesses something more expansive and constructive.
For example, if romantic love is a “dream” that soars through the heavens, then marriage is a “dream” that keeps its feet planted on the earth.
Romantic love is a “dream” built upon imagination and passion, but marriage’s “dream” is constructed upon hope and effort.
Romantic love is a “dream” of supplication and pursuit—at times breathing amidst anxiety—while marriage is a “dream” of encouragement and compromise, ever nurtured within trust.

III

Youth’s “dreams” extend toward all of life’s problems and every event in this manner.
Beyond these, there are dreams of overseas ventures, dreams of inventions and discoveries, dreams of aiding the weak, dreams of military exploits; among the most vulgar lie dreams of marrying into wealth and dreams of making a fortune.
In society, there are often those who are called dreamers or visionaries.

It could not be stated categorically, but the reasons why dreamers and visionaries were ridiculed by common sense were first that their dreams floated completely detached from reality without possessing a living beauty, and second that they were disproportionate to their age or capabilities—these would likely be among them.

In this light, one could well say that Youth inherently lived by "dreams"; they needed only to wish for those "dreams" to be beautiful.

The beauty of "dreams" was born from the correct ideals of being Japanese and Youth's abundant cultivation.
And above all, it required a pure heart.
Among what society dismissed with a derisive laugh as "dreamlike tales," there might well be no limit to what "great dreams" existed.

IV

When I envision Japan’s future—fraught with trials yet abundant in blessings—I earnestly hope that each and every one of today’s young people will hold beautiful, robust dreams.

The dreams of Youth must, of course, be connected to the ideals of the nation.
And it is only when this—unwaveringly grounded in their own sincerity and passion—becomes a “purpose” elevated to conviction that it first takes on the hue of radiant hope and gives rise to grand aspirations.

To establish “purpose” is, therefore, as a member of the nation regardless of gender, to clearly discern the path one ought to take; yet within this, there naturally exist constraints of circumstance and choices of path commensurate with individual capability—none of which in the least impede the beauty or robustness of dreams.
For in this sacred reign of Showa, not only can each and every citizen’s “purpose” be fully realized through what is called the fulfillment of one’s duty as subjects or vocational devotion, but there also lies upon Youth a boundless expectation unseen in previous eras.

It goes without saying that the majority of those standing on battlefronts braving hails of bullets were Youth, and many of those laboring with their entire bodies drenched in sweat in the fields of production were Youth.
We believed that the long-term national endeavor aiming at the construction of Greater East Asia must rest in the hands of today’s Youth; it was for this reason that we desired the actual state of those Youth to demonstrate, in all respects, the strength and dignity befitting their duty as great citizens.

Here, the ideal model of new Japanese Youth must emerge.

The ideal model is what is termed the “archetype.”
It is the supreme form as it ought to be.
For men, a male archetype is conceived; for women, a female archetype.
Moreover, while fundamentally containing elements common to all Japanese Youth, it must also fully utilize their individualities, showcase vocational characteristics, and clearly delineate stages of age.

Until today, society at large—with the exception of military personnel—neglected this archetype.
Because of this, “stereotypes” proliferated.
“The term ‘stereotype’ refers to a commonplace mold immediately recognizable at first glance.”
Things like the mold of an official, the mold of a teacher, or the mold of a merchant—these are what is meant by this.
These are habits or fixed tendencies that a profession unknowingly imparts upon one’s appearance and conduct—things that invariably carry a certain stench and frequently sow seeds of antipathy and contempt.

"Stereotypes are what one falls into despite disliking them, but archetypes are what one creates through exemplary training."

In times past compared to today, there was a custom among all classes of esteeming archetypes; not only samurai but even townspeople maintained their own archetype.
The archetype was first a guideline for home education and served as a standard for evaluating individuals in society.
That “discipline” was none other than a means of molding children in accordance with the archetype, and “refinement” should likewise be regarded as the result of efforts within their respective stations to align with said archetype.

Where archetypes are born, there must always be "pride."
There was an era when certain social classes disregarded pride.
It stands to reason that such classes and their affiliated professions lacked archetypes.
Yet today, across every class and every vocation, pride as subjects of the Great Japanese Empire—pride in bearing a portion of national endeavors—has surged forth with vigor.

I maintain that new archetypes of Youth must first arise from precisely these domains.

Schools and the military could, in a certain sense, be said to be forming archetypes of Youth—yet that alone proved insufficient.
For in the present age, the greater part of homes and workplaces were engaged in destroying them.

Above all, the archetype must not be self-righteous.
Unless it can consistently engage with the world through universality, it cannot be called a true archetype.

However, even among archetypes, those without individuality remain mere concepts, while those conflating class and vocational domains become causes that disrupt social harmony and invite the deterioration of customs.
Though differing slightly in example, distinct archetypes have naturally formed even among military personnel—officers, non-commissioned officers, and soldiers—which are not merely differentiated by uniforms but have become implicitly recognized by all as exemplary models corresponding to each rank’s duties in gravity and scope.
Even among officers themselves, a marked difference exists between young officers’ and veteran generals’ archetypes.
The Army and Navy too maintain their own distinct divisions.

As it went without saying for military personnel—imbued with immense pride as the bulwark of the state and His Majesty’s right arm, and further through flawlessly disciplined training that manifested this pride—there had arisen from this a Japanese military archetype that could become an object of global admiration. Yet it remained truly mortifying today that, despite being fellow Japanese, those in other professions had yet to create comparably dependable archetypes of their own, regardless of personal merits.

However, in my view, exemplary Japanese individuals already exist personally across all strata and professions of society, and while some regard them as indispensable—saying, “We must have such people”—they do not capture collective attention. Even when noticed, there may yet be cases where a shared recognition that these individuals themselves constitute the “archetype” has not taken root.
On the other hand, there also exists the fact that mediocre individuals—merely due to certain actions or traits—are overvalued and, through popular opinion, treated as though they were archetypes, thereby deepening discerning people’s doubts.

The creation of true archetypes is often hindered by such circumstances even in their very discovery.

Herein must the dreams of Youth spread their pristine wings wide.
Youth’s yearning for strength, righteousness, and beauty transcends shallow knowledge and experience to become intuition’s keen edge—irresistibly guiding them toward their sought ideal.
Vagueness may yet cling to this vision.
But such nebulousness suffices.
For that archetype envisioned as a singular image in the mind’s eye is rather an eternal dream ever eluding grasp.
To pursue its materialization proves as vain as chasing any phantom.
Let one instead seek paths leading toward this archetype—deeming fulfillment found in their attainment—and count it most commendable should earnest striving bring but one step closer.

To tentatively give one or two examples, the archetype of rural youth had to not merely be "exemplary" as rural youth alone; it needed to possess a charm that would make all youth exclaim, "Ah, I wish to become like that!"—and at the very least, it had to be something capable of evoking the sentiment, "How truly fulfilling that must be."

Moreover, this same principle could be said to apply to youth factory workers and commercial youth.

When I say such things, it may sound somewhat unnatural today—but this is because we remain bound by secular prejudices up to now. Villages, factories, companies, and shops now fully exert their authority as sites of national production and distribution; the nation recognizes their importance as no less than military service and esteems highly the “purpose” of Youth engaged in these endeavors.
All that remains is the question of whether these Youth possess the ability to dream dreams.

In modern times, even among students, the archetype that ought to exist has been lost; the bold, lofty spirit observed in those Meiji-era “students” appears to have vanished from their very countenance.
The stereotype merely cloaked in uniforms carries its secret pride with an abashed air.
Their dreams once strayed into deviant paths of worldly success; now hearing how today’s majority—while clinging to lingering embers—scrambles after greater incomes, one can only nod at how naturally this archetype’s disappearance follows.

The dreams of Youth begin with envisioning their future selves.
The path to guide and nurture dreams need not lie far afield.
The very ground beneath our feet now unfailingly leads to an expansive plain of dreams.
This journey turns not on what circumstances envelop us, but on how we cultivate those circumstances.
We must commence from an unshakable conviction that professional hierarchies and status calculations cannot exist—not merely in theory, but as concrete reality.

Human beings—whether man or woman, old or young—merely by existing in this world can already be a light to the world.
What one does comes second.

If a profession was at times looked down upon by society, this stemmed not from its inherent nature but because most practitioners had utterly lacked lofty ideals, lost their beautiful dreams, and through work and life abandoned their own pride without self-reflection.

Even in cases where it may appear at first glance that the nature of the profession has caused this, if one thoroughly examines the facts, it is by no means so; rather, it stems from a self-deprecating attitude handed down within the profession—one lacking both the discernment to rectify societal prejudices and the courage to combat them.
Therefore, should someone rise up to first light the beacon of self-renewal and strive to dispel the world’s ignorance, there can be no reason their surroundings would not eventually bend like grass before the wind in due time.
Here already lies a grand dream.
And it is precisely from such dreams that a new archetype takes form.

If we then asked what had nurtured the dreams of young men and women, until now it had largely been biographies of heroes and great figures or tales of virtuous women.
I did not mean that they would henceforth be unnecessary.
Rather than pursuing vulgar get-rich-quick dreams or fantasies of marrying into wealth, one could not overstate how much better it would be to increasingly learn from the upbringing and efforts of such extraordinary individuals.
However, that alone would not suffice.
What was most needed was to deeply savor Japan’s history, meticulously investigate local history, firmly embrace one’s proper role as Youth, and then, through outstanding literature, make one’s own the correct criteria for evaluating human worth.

Dreams extend from what lies close at hand to what stretches vast.

They begin from daily life encompassing labor and study. Once one becomes aware of the distance between “the self as it is” and “the self as it ought to be,” one has already arrived at the gateway of a beautiful dream. Should one take a single step into devising ways and making efforts to shape oneself thus, there spontaneously unfolds an undertaking to create archetypes.

At this stage, spread the wings of your dreams as wide as they can go. Dreams must remain beautiful through and through and robust through and through. Moreover, however distant they may be, they warrant no fear.

What must be feared is rather the infiltration of impurities—the mentality of relying on chance that transforms into dreams and slips stealthily within.

Truly beautiful and robust dreams are neither sweet nor uniformly bright.
It is a dream of battle intermingling hardship and joy; a dream where, wounded again and again in combat, one nonetheless rises up time after time to finally sound the triumph.
Therefore, the true new archetype of Youth should build upon the dignified and gallant Japanese archetype by adding the vigor inherent to youth and the dedication to one’s vocation—naturally embodying the grand spirit befitting Japanese Youth—so that men may stand with masculine fortitude, women with feminine grace, each possessing a pure dignity that commands both reverence and affectionate yearning.
Since describing archetypes through words remains within the realm of abstraction, I shall stop here—but what I further desire is that young men and women not only envision archetypes of their own gender but also, by each imagining splendid archetypes of the opposite gender, embrace a wholesome single dream.

This remains a matter of utmost importance for today's Youth, yet through its fruition, young men and women shall ultimately come to collaboratively forge their respective archetypes.
This constitutes the consummation of the archetype.
That dreams engender and nurture archetypes finds its veritable significance precisely in such realms as these.

However, there is no need to rush this.
The Youth of Japan are now undergoing a complete trial through what might be called a great war—a collision of dreams and reality.
For male youth, the colossal dreams they cannot help but envision are the honor of valiant warriors perishing on battlefields beyond vast seas; for female youth, it is the sanctity of their own lives on the day they shall bear the nation’s sacred treasures.

“Soldier” and “Mother”—these two names, precisely as they are, have created archetypes rare in modern Japan, names of incomparable solemnity and purity.

Five

It was said that Youth lived through "dreams," yet at the same time, Youth often became captives of "melancholy."
Even those deemed cheerful and open-hearted Youth were, in truth, no exception to this.

The causes of this "melancholy" lay partly in what was commonly called the physiological changes of "spring awakening," but equally in their intimate connection to Youth's very "dreams" themselves.

The "melancholy" arising from physiological causes was said by medical authorities to require overcoming through mood alteration.
Concrete examples included devoting oneself to study or sports, or immersing oneself in religion or art.
At times, they claimed inducing bodily fatigue through systematic regulation proved most effective.

I shall leave such matters to the experts for now; what I wish to discuss instead is what relationship exists between this “Melancholy” and “Youth’s Dreams.”

“Melancholy,” literally speaking, refers to a kind of psychological discomfort—not explosive in nature, but rather something introverted, best described as the oppressive weight of a compressed mood marked by groundless restlessness. It may even escalate to unbearable torment at times, but more often than not—varying only in shades of light and dark with changing circumstances—they might heave bitter sighs, bite their lips in desolation, or simply sink into lonely brooding.

"The saying 'Extreme joy begets sorrow' seemed to aptly apply to youth’s own vibrant sense of happiness."
"In this case, sorrow could be considered synonymous with Melancholy."
"In today’s era—which allowed no room for Youth’s unrestrained lives—Youth themselves appeared not to desire such lifestyles when viewed apart from moral judgments; yet fundamentally, youth meant living unburdened by life’s cares: singing whenever one wished to sing, becoming intoxicated on anything when compelled by the urge, even without wine."
"An age when any 'dream' felt natural—when all desires could be savored as sufficient sweetness even before fulfillment—this was an era of purest happiness."

Whether one was conscious of it or not, at the periphery of such happiness lingered a hollow loneliness and indescribable Melancholy that briefly showed their faces.

It was a poignantly intriguing phenomenon akin to "satiated insufficiency." This very sensation Youth themselves frequently perceived as something "unfulfilled."

Melancholy too often sprang from incommunicable secrets of the heart—transmuting into delusions of self-perceived isolation, or materializing as nameless desolation, veiled grief, and existential futility.

However, a certain type of "Melancholy" took on the visage of indignation.
The true cause of discomfort lay not within us but within them—it was precisely when that cause consisted of injustice, impurity, and immorality.
Whether termed righteous indignation or patriotic lament for the world, both were clear expressions of this type of "Melancholy."

Six

The youth’s beautiful “dreams” were meant to grow vigorously in every direction, but what obstructed their path and trampled them underfoot was none other than reality itself—merciless in its essence.
What proved particularly unbearable was how adults who had yielded to reality, grown intimate with its ways, and borrowed its authority would casually spurn, deny, and scorn these “dreams.”

Though reality could never be inherently deemed ugly or malicious, its force opposing “dreams” revealed itself as both cruel and overwhelming.
However beautiful the youth’s “dreams” might have been, before a reality that shook its head in refusal, they stood utterly powerless.
This blood-soaked struggle against reality should by rights have been inscribed in the very script of youth’s “dreams”—yet tragically, the youth lacked even the most basic preparations to answer reality’s foreseeable challenges.

There was nothing more pitiful than the sight of Youth who, unable even to dream of “dreams,” had lost all courage and smiles before reality’s tyrannical force—yet even more wretched were those who clung to petty “delusions” unworthy of being called dreams in some corner of their hearts, only to snivel and wipe tear-streaked faces when reality confronted and scattered these figments. Such individuals truly deserved to be called the world’s most pitiable beings.
Such “Melancholy” lay beyond the scope of our present discussion.

Striving to face reality squarely while seeking dreams beyond it, stirring youth’s vital blood—this must manifest an intrepid spirit that never recoils, even when those dreams are once shattered by reality’s exacting criticism and resistance.

At this juncture, Melancholy becomes rather the echoing crack of reflection’s whip lamenting one’s overconfidence and ignorance; moreover, should it mark a moment of sweat from forging an even more resilient “dream,” then such Melancholy may be called dark-hued yet not wholly dark.

Yet here lies a cause of Melancholy that appears irredeemable.

That is the worm of disillusionment that unknowingly lurks in the hearts of Youth.
In other words, it is a sense of emptiness akin to despair—the realization that reality could be so far removed from the ideal.

Truly, reality is something far removed from the ideal—and precisely because it is so that we speak of “reality” and “ideal.”
However, Youth’s “dreams” sometimes idealize reality and actualize ideals.
From the perspective of common sense, there lies a great contradiction here—yet this contradiction does not easily reveal its cold visage as such in the presence of Belief and Passion.
Even so, reality gradually begins to reveal its unvarnished visage before the youth.
To them, it must appear as an all too “ugly visage.”
That is only natural.
For it was the very next day after they had been earnestly instructed for years about “the way life ought to be” and had solemnly celebrated in their hearts this embarkation upon such a “life.”

To state it in extreme terms, they could not possibly have imagined this as “reality”—a world where terrifying vices were as commonplace as daily meals; where people rarely helped one another; where only children praised the joy of creation; where truth was sealed away like something foul; and where the only things barely deemed beautiful were nature and art.

As I had prefaced earlier, this constituted an extreme disparagement of “reality,” and I myself did not hold such beliefs—but consider this: what impressions did the souls of these relatively pure-hearted and trusting young people receive from the harsh, dust-covered fragments of reality? These were youths endowed through school education with eyes to discern good and evil, right and wrong, beauty and ugliness; who attempted to live in today’s society while embracing their hopes for life as unaltered dreams.

I was convinced that my previous sketch of “reality” amounted to nothing more than a grotesque array of masks—the “reality” reflected in their souls precisely as it appeared.

Disillusionment with reality’s manifold aspects—at least for Youth alone—could become a seed of Melancholy, often leading down the path to what was called the pitfall of Skepticism; yet through deeply understanding reality and loftily upholding ideals, new hope and courage welled forth from this very process. This type of Melancholy might be said to mark a defining phase in the development of Youth’s “dreams.”

The issue here lay in that cold Melancholy typically seen in Youth who, having fallen into the pitfall of Skepticism, lost sight of their ideals—where “dreams” became mere escapes from “reality,” spiritual sustenance was reduced to theory alone, and life’s aim narrowed to comfort.

Moreover, this—through discovering the wretchedness of their own selves being dragged along by an “unfulfilled” sentiment—all too easily leads to “Self-Loathing.”

Once, the term “modern melancholy” became so widespread that even in the West—ever since Hamlet—this pallid melancholy flaunting skepticism and spiritual wandering stood as a poetic, somewhat dashing zeitgeist favored by Youth.

This would soon be named “century sickness”—a phenomenon that should be regarded as one of the portents heralding European civilization’s collapse—and in literature, this tendency had reached our nation to some degree.

However, it could not be concluded that **only** literature’s influence had driven the youth of the educated class to skepticism up to this day. To speak without reservation, this lay in reality’s very nature—particularly in the grave responsibility borne by politics and education.

“Skepticism is the mother of knowledge” had been a phrase frequently uttered. This might well hold true. Yet no one had ever stated that skepticism was not the mother of all things necessary in life. Failing to realize this was not necessarily Youth’s failing—but to lament our belated realization was ours.

What is the wandering of the soul?
It is “a people without a homeland,” “uprooted plants,” and “a child without a home.”
It is indeed desolation itself.
“If there exists a seed of ‘Melancholy’ here as well, then it must be said to be a ‘Melancholy’ alien to the Japanese people.”

“The phrase ‘lonely soul’ admittedly does have a certain meaning as a literary expression.”
However, truly "lonely souls" never show Melancholy on their faces.
That is also because it refers to a resilient and abundant spirit that knows no loneliness.

In short, I sense traces of “modern Melancholy” still lingering here and there in our nation.
It must indeed still remain.
If this is not eradicated, it is clear that it will become an obstacle to our nation’s development.
First and foremost, the self-centered ideology and the superstition of scientific omnipotence must be shattered.
Next, they must cast off the shell of education founded on utilitarianism and boldly collaborate in the revival of Japanese politics.

The homework assigned to today’s Youth—those who have graduated from so-called specialized schools and higher institutions and aim for spiritual labor—is as outlined above.

Even where there were no truly beautiful “Dreams,” there also existed a kind of “Melancholy.”

Seven

Among things somewhat difficult to distinguish from the aforementioned “physiological Melancholy” lay that “troubles of youth.”
Objectless anxiety, the perpetual thirst of an unsatisfied heart, the groping pursuit of elusive phantoms, the loneliness of having nothing that smiled upon oneself, the dread that one might end their youth in idle stagnation—all these chaotically constricted the chest.
This, when examined at its root, was in fact nothing more than a simple “longing for the opposite sex.”
As evidence of this, once a specific favorable member of the opposite sex appeared before them, that anxiety, thirst, groping pursuit and dread vanished like shadows in an instant.

However, at times, a new “Melancholy” sprouts alongside the first stirrings of romance.

The impatience of failing to fully connect with the other’s heart; the perpetual dissatisfaction of never truly seeing their face; the unease of believing one understands their feelings yet being unable to declare it with certainty; the dread of competitors emerging—these and more.

I acknowledge that further explanation of romantic psychology is unnecessary, but given this, one must declare that romantic love itself is a sickness.
When Melancholy manifests as a symptom of sickness, there remains no recourse but a decisive severing, yet the preventive medicine to ensure romance does not escalate into such malady would likely lie in Youth’s “pride” and “discretion.”

There were frequent instances where a pale tinge of melancholy shone through their proud countenances，imparting a certain gravitas to young men and women．They might have been described as wearing grave expressions．Though there was no way to discern where that melancholy came from，one might suddenly have found oneself wondering if they were engaged in serious romance．However，what could not be mistaken was that these young men and women were，for the most part，filling their hearts with numerous beautiful dreams．

The beauty of “dreams” was by no means the monochromatic brightness of optimism.
It was a polychromatic embroidery of light and shadow—interwoven with the martyr’s resolve to embrace countless hardships as they came and the pioneer’s tenacity to scale lofty ideals and probe uncharted depths—all tempered like patinated silver.
The shadow of “Melancholy”—so faint it seemed but a momentary cloud in Youth’s unclouded eyes—instead resembled a clear mirror’s faithful reflection that struck one as reassuring; and should this silvered “Melancholy” rise as white smoke, it would engulf truth’s sword to vanquish falsehoods—transforming into heroic fury trading blows with reality’s vile foe.

That said, if at all possible, I believe it would be preferable not to show signs of Melancholy too ostentatiously on their faces.
This too constitutes a form of “discretion.”

The reason I feel compelled to add this caution now is that—apart from the previously cited examples—I generally perceive Youth’s countenances as somber and deficient in vigor.
I frequently encounter “puffed-up faces” that appear to challenge, *“What exactly displeases you?”*
Though not exclusive to Youth, it becomes conspicuously pronounced precisely because they are Youth.

This too was undeniably one expression of “Melancholy,” but it already stood as one of those prosaic melancholies unrelated to any “Dreams”—or rather, it would have been more accurate to call it simply ill humor.
Faces of those who—constantly nursing petty grievances, either tearfully resigning themselves or grousing until spent—somehow lost confidence, their accumulated discontent solidifying into involuntary “sullen masks,” were not so uncommon in those days, I thought.

“Show me thy Youth, and I shall divine the fate of thy nation,” said a philosopher.

“Let Youth speak their dreams.”
“I shall divine the future of that Youth,” I can declare, albeit presumptuously.

However, more than that, the reason I established here a section titled “Youth’s Dreams and Melancholy” was because I believed that the beauty and vigor of the “Dreams” envisioned by many Youth directly reflected the loftiness and vitality of a nation’s culture.

And it had to be made clear that these “Dreams,” no matter how beautiful or vigorous they might be, were not always things that wore a smile.
That was the reason I brought up “Melancholy.”
It was my intention that Youth firmly grasp the true nature of this turbulent “Melancholy” and, so that they would not wander astray in vain, I added a touch of grandmotherly concern.