Pathway to Japanese Literature

A quaint tea house at the mountain pass floated in the mist with Mount Fuji in the distance.
At the eaves, a single mountain cherry blossom tree began to bloom.

Higashi Sadatomi, the tea house owner, wore a flannel shirt and corduroy shorts as he leveled the road before his shop with a hoe.
At times, he stretched his back and gazed at the sky, but soon—

Higashi Sadatomi: “Ah—spring had finally come to this pass too.”
“But where did yesterday’s winter disappear to?”
“Manchuria?”
“Siberia?”
“Right—with all that Tohoku famine business lately, we’d completely neglected sending comfort bags to our soldiers.”
“The human mind isn’t made to consider everything at once.”
“If only newspapers would show some sense and keep warning us about things constantly—but no, they blather when they feel like it and stay mum otherwise. Infuriating.”
“A state of emergency.”
“Sure enough—I know that perfectly well—but what in blazes is our parliament doing?”
“Going on about year-end and New Year’s—this is no time for breaks!”
“Aren’t we in an age where you can circle the globe in a week?”
“Shouldn’t world affairs be shifting at airplane speed?”
“Then don’t they realize girls from Aomori turn prostitute overnight?”
“What if President Roosevelt’s drafting a declaration of war by his stove on New Year’s morning?”
“No no—we’ll leave that to our generals and admirals.”
“Speaking of admirals—who exactly is this Standley fellow?”
“No doubt he thinks a wide shopfront entitles him to put on managerial airs.”
“Wearing some Antarctic explorer’s hat on duty—is that part of the 5:5:3 ratio?”
“What a damned farce.”
“Still—this business about uncollected village taxes isn’t something I can ignore.”

As for elementary school teachers—well, even if we have them endure until their salaries go unpaid—what becomes of the national economy then? If it comes to a naval arms race, scraping together every last pot and pan from each household might suffice—but cash would still be needed, I suppose. I don't know how much savings the Bank of Japan holds, but if you'll pardon me saying so, I imagine they're short on funds too. This all comes down to young folks skimping on effort! Even in mountain country like this—they've gone and decided winter's for lazing about! Aren't charcoal-burning men dwindling by the day? The very notion that things boil down to price per bale galls me! Trying to make dead trees bloom; digging dirt for gold coins—this wretched mindset plagues our times! Look at me—me...

In a mountain pass tea house buried in snow, for twenty years now, he had spared no effort maintaining the road.
"The fact that this twenty-chō east-west prefectural road lies smooth as a razor strop stretched flat—all of this comes from my public-spirited devotion," he thought.

At this moment, his daughter Takako came up from the valley carrying a bucket.

"Dad! Look how much parsley’s coming up already!"

"The parsley must be coming up too," Sadatomi replied.
"Nature’s blessings are truly something to be grateful for."
"Add it to the soup."
"And tell Mother to try getting up for a bit."
"There’s no honor in headaches from enduring winter."

Takako: “I wonder if I should take the first bus to Mr. Minami’s place and come back…”

Higashi Sadatomi: “If it’s Minami Hospital’s medicine—that stuff—you’re better off not taking it.”
“It’s definitely that aspirin stuff.”
“It’s derived from Jitsubosan—fundamentally the same thing.”
“Traditional Japanese medicines—why is it they simply can’t be dismissed?”
“Lately, I hear even doctors have noticed that and some are secretly using it.”

“While I’m at it, I need to buy something.”
“Why not ask Mr. All Right?”
“They’ll make fun of me—no thanks.”
“I’m going to the town office this evening—I’ll get it then. What is it?”
“Lettaa peepaah.”
“Good grief—who raised a generation that can’t even write on proper scroll paper?”

O-Tafuku of O-Tami, dressed in Western clothes and shoes, said, “Shall we go out?”
Instead of saying that, she spat out “All right”—one could only resign oneself to this being the way of the times.
“Speaking of which, I’m getting hungry—this is a problem. Hurry up and make some food.”

Takako: “All right.”
Higashi Sadatomi: “Haha—shall we head out for a meal?”

When Takako went into the back, Higashi Sadatomi began moving the hoe again.
A man carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle appeared.

Higashi Sadatomi: “Tadashi? You’re early.”

Tadashi: “Early or not, I’ve been walking nonstop since last evening.”

Higashi Sadatomi: “Huh, getting a wife really makes you find some vigor, huh?”

Tadashi: “It’s not my wife’s fault.
“It’s because of the state of emergency.
“What d’you think is inside this?”

Higashi Sadatomi: “It can’t be a bomb.”

Tadashi: “Old man—d’you know they’re putting up a factory in Kikyōga-hara?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” Sadatomi said. “What kind of factory?”

“Seems they’re pullin’ some strange stuff outta that soil over there,” Tadashi replied. “That place where they used t’quarry stone way back—’member?”

“If three years pass, even rocks would melt away,” Sadatomi said.

“That rock’s a real troublemaker,” Tadashi countered. “Since our boss’s land connects to that area, I’m heading to the office now to show ’em the soil we dug up. The payoff’s huge—they’re pricing it per tsubo.”

“What’ll they do with that stone?”

“Nobody knows for sure, but seems like war preparations. Though some say it ain’t for gunpowder.”

Higashi Sadatomi: “So then—just as I said. This here’s a bomb.”
(He tapped the cloth-wrapped bundle.)

Tadashi: “Quit that—you’ll mix everything up! ’Sides, they’ve started hirin’ factory hands now. Sixty sen a day—everyone’s clawin’ for it. Makes sense though—diggin’ fields ain’t gonna spit out that kinda coin.”

Higashi Sadatomi crossed his arms and sank into thought.

Tadashi: “Can’t shout it from rooftops, but I’m plannin’ to sign up myself. Beats snivelin’ ’round as some dirt-pawin’ farmboy—shows initiative, right?”

Higashi Sadatomi: "What are you saying, Tadashi? This isn't the time to be thinking only about yourself! If you're gone, who'll grow Mr. Shinjo's daikon? If we can't harvest daikon, how will Mr. Shinjo pay his taxes? If taxes stop coming in, who'll support the nation?"

Tadashi: "Our boss ain't payin' any taxes anyway."

Higashi Sadatomi: "That's precisely the problem! When landowners act like that, the village can't sustain itself—even the authorities struggle with it! There's no shortage of folks wanting factory jobs."

Tadashi: “Now, now, old man—that’s not something you need to worry about. How about brewing some bitter tea?”

“Is that really true…?” Sadatomi muttered. “A factory being built… Should we rejoice at this… Or grieve…”

“Hey hey, make up your mind already and serve the tea,” said Tadashi. “My throat’s been parched since earlier, I tell you.”

“Go drink some water out back,” retorted Higashi Sadatomi. “You think I can waste tea on the likes of you every time?”

“You said it yourself, old man.” Tadashi leaned forward. “Planning to brush off Tadashi of the Youth Group like some stray dog?”

“If you’re the Youth Group,” Higashi shot back, drawing himself up, “then I’m the training institute supervisor! Who do you take me for—Higashi Sadatomi, master of Aikoku Tea House!”

Tadashi hoisted his bundle onto his back with a grunt. “Supervising institutes is fine and dandy—but you keeping proper watch over that daughter of yours?”

While watching that retreating figure，Higashi Sadatomi grew indignant.

Higashi Sadatomi: (After a moment) “Lately they’re pampering youngsters every which way—far too much. When even the governor goes spouting nonsense like ‘Our nation’s fate rests upon your shoulders,’ these brats grow insolent and stop seeing elders as elders. A sign of national decay.”

From the back came the daughter’s voice: “Father… dinner’s ready…”
Higashi Sadatomi propped his hoe under the eaves and headed inside.

In his place, Takako came out to the shopfront and swept here and there with a broom.

From afar, the hoarse sound of a military song could be heard.
The daughter pricked up her ears.

Before long, a middle-aged man in Western clothes appeared.
It was Hyodo.

“Oh, Mr. Hyodo, where are you off to…?”

“I’m going to the town office as the principal’s proxy. I’m at my wit’s end with how few students are showing up. We’ve got to sort out their lunch situation somehow. Well now—the cherry blossoms have bloomed here too, haven’t they? What’s wrong? It’s been ages since you came by the school…”

“I was planning to come visit soon.”
“And how is Mr. Yashiro?”

Hyodo: “Mr. Yashiro—you see—said he hated getting frostbite every year, so he transferred to Kanagawa last winter.”
“So now we’re temporarily having Arai help out.”
“It’s Arai—the one who was in your class.”

Takako: “Okane-chan... Oh...”
(Facing the back) “Father, Mr. Hyodo is here.”

Higashi Sadatomi (emerging from the back): “I’ll get straight to the point—Mr. Hyodo, is it true they’re building a factory in Kikyo-ga-hara?”

Hyodo: “That’s the sort of talk going around, isn’t it.”
“And what of it?”

Higashi Sadatomi: “Since this seems no ordinary factory, I suppose I can’t object—but I fear local opinion will turn against it.”
“Even without that, the farmers already want to sell their fields…”

Hyodo: “If they want to sell, why not let them?”
“Land isn’t ordained solely for mulberries and daikon.”

Higashi Sadatomi: “Much obliged.”
“But is that your personal theory, Mr. Hyodo?”
“Are you instructing students in such ways too?”

Mr. Hyodo: “There’s a way of speaking appropriate for children when addressing children.”
(Takako pours and serves tea.) “Ah, thank you.”
“Children these days have strangely changed their way of thinking.”
“They won’t accept ‘This is how it is’ without question.”
“They need a reason.”
“And even then—if it’s some half-baked reason—they’ll nod with their eyes while snorting through their noses.”
“Teaching has become quite troublesome these days.”

Higashi Sadatomi: “You might be an exception, but even those teachers have largely lost their convictions.”
“When we listened to history lectures in elementary school, our teachers still had the passion and spirit to mold true Japanese people.”
“When they’d talk about Ninomiya Sontoku, tears would plop straight from their eyes…”

Hyodo: "Such people still exist."
"You needn't worry."
"Our principal is one of them."
"The students find it entertaining, but is that approach truly appropriate?"
"What do you think, Takako...?"

Takako: "It's exactly like *naniwa-bushi*..."

Higashi Sadatomi: "Huh. Is that how it is?"

Hyodo: "Add a melody to it, and indeed—*naniwa-bushi*! 'And thus did the traitor Ashikaga Takauji, in winter's desolation of Shōhei's second year, appoint Kō no Moronao as general, divide forces with his brother Moroyasu, unfurl banner sleeves, and encamp at Shijōnawate to storm Yoshino in one fell swoop.'"

“That’s exactly right.”

“Come to think of it, there was a minister who praised Ashikaga Takauji—that caused quite a stir, didn’t it.”

“There was one, wasn’t there.
I don’t know exactly how he praised him, but society won’t stand for it unless villains are kept as villains through and through.
What’s wrong with saying such people have these aspects too? The idea of hating the sin but not the sinner seems to have no ××××××.
Ah, Mount Fuji looks splendid this morning.
To remove, one by one, those who have been stained with disgrace from Japan’s history—that’s what it means to be a true Japanese, I suppose.
There is no law that requires creating traitors in order to create loyal retainers.
Setting aside Ashikaga Takauji, there are a considerable number of people who have been subjected to unjust insults by court scholars and popular writers.
Given my position, I don’t want to say anything radical, but I think it’s a lie to claim that just because someone has done admirable things, you like that person.
Making children sell natto and then taking the proceeds…”

At this moment, the sound of a bus climbing the slope gradually drew near.

When the bus stopped, the girls’ cheers rose in unison.
It was a group of schoolgirls.

Male Teacher: “This here is the famous Aikoku Pass.”
“What you see in the far distance is Mount Fuji’s sacred peak...”
(The schoolgirls giggled.) “What you see here are Japan’s mountain cherry blossoms, just beginning to bloom...”

Schoolgirl A: "It smells fragrant in the morning sun."

Schoolgirl B: "If one were to ask about Japan's maidenly heart..."

“Quiet!”
“Everyone, listen carefully.”
“Standing on this mountain pass—what should we first feel here?”

“Cold wind!” shouted Schoolgirl C.
“Anyone else?” pressed the Male Teacher.
“A refreshing mood!” chirped Schoolgirl D.

“Anyone else?”

“My shabbiness!”

“A more pressing sensation?”

“Thirst!”
(The schoolgirls giggle)

“Seriously! Be serious!”

Female Teacher: “Everyone, you’re being rather dim.”

Schoolgirl A: “I’ve got it!”
“The Magnanimous Spirit!”

Male Teacher: “You’re getting warmer.”
“Now phrase that in contemporary terms.”

Silence.

Female Teacher: Hopeless, everyone….
“Here’s a hint—look at my mouth….”

All Schoolgirls: Ni-ho-n-ji-n-to-shi-te-no-ho-ko-ri… [Pride as Japanese people…]

“Good.”
“The pride of being Japanese!”
“The beauty of this great nature is our very soul!”
“We must now deeply feel the Japanese spirit passed down from our ancestors.”
“And we must wholeheartedly give thanks for being born in this unparalleled country.”
“A mild climate, abundant harvests, calm seas on all sides, and a people ever diligent.”
“Men are brave and bold, women are chaste and elegant—truly the flower of humanity, the treasure of the universe.”
“How fitting it is to call this the world’s paradise and designate it as the land of immortality!”
“The analogy that pure mountains and rivers give rise to great men is no falsehood.”
“We are all endowed with the qualities to be heroes and chaste women.”
“The spiritual fortitude of our compatriots, who gaze upon Mount Fuji at dawn and... and... bow reverently to Lake Biwa in Ōmi come evening, far surpasses that of those who befriend the Rocky Mountains and Lake Baikal.”
“Everyone, let us give three cheers here.”
“Long live the Japanese Empire!”

All Schoolgirls: Banzai.

Male Teacher: Banzai!

All Schoolgirls: Banzai.

Male Teacher: Banbanzai!

All Schoolgirls: Banbanzai!

“Aikoku Pass Banzai!”
(The schoolgirls cheered.) “Well then, I too shall have my say.”
“Ahem. While Mr. Kunimori has just given us a most edifying lecture, as your Japanese teacher, I should like each of you to compose a waka poem here.”
(The schoolgirls murmured in protest.) “Be quiet.”
“Since I won’t be assigning points and it won’t affect your grades, please feel completely free to improvise and condense your thoughts into thirty-one syllables.”

“I’m in trouble here.”

“Chie-tsu, that wasn’t my intention.”

Schoolgirl D: “If I’d known it’d be like this, I should’ve pretended to be ill.”

Female Teacher: “There’s nothing difficult about it, I’m sure.
By the time you all reach a certain age, you simply mustn’t lack such refinements.
Any properly educated woman would find poetic inspiration welling up unbidden before this scenery—whether she wills it or not.
Miss Tsubaki?”

Schoolgirl C: “—Standing upon Aikoku Pass…”

Female Teacher: “And then…?”

“Now that I think of it...”
“Hmph.”
“Perhaps I sense the Yamato spirit.”
“A touch prosaic, but acceptable. Who’s next? Miss Sugi!”

“I... I’ve only managed the upper verse…”

“Go ahead and say it.”

“*Chihayafuru*... The gods’ blessings upon this mountain pass tea house...”

“That’s… interesting,” the female teacher said. “And then…?”

Schoolgirl B: “Cherish the country, as they say…”

A voice respectfully added a line.

Female Teacher: “Who said that?”
“Who provided the follow-up?”
(Pause.) “Very well.”
“I’d like a bit more scenic imagery here.”
“Miss Tachibana!”

Schoolgirl A: “Mountain cherry blossoms bloom on this pass in early spring…”

Female Teacher: “Mountain cherry blossoms blooming on an early spring pass…” Quite good.
“Hmm.”

Schoolgirl A: “Mount Fuji’s an extra—that’s what I’ve come to see...” (The schoolgirls cheer.)

Female Teacher: “How about the ‘extra’?”
“If that’s your genuine impression, I suppose there’s nothing to be done.”
“Excuse me, Conductor—is there still time?”

Female Conductor: “Well, if we don’t depart soon now...”

“Well now, regrettable though it may be, let us conclude matters here...”

“I should like to hear yours, Teacher.”

“Agreed!” chorused the voices.

“The teacher was too busy making such pronouncements to spare a moment for thinking,” she replied.

“Unfair! Unfair!” came the collective protest.

“Now then, if we’re late it’ll be serious trouble, so everyone please board.”

Male Teacher: (briskly) "All aboard!"

Amidst the schoolgirls’ commotion came the sound of the engine starting up.

Female Conductor: (loudly) “All right!”

As the vehicle began to move, the girls burst into chorus. As it gradually receded into the distance,

Higashi: “Well, well—what a ruckus.”
“Those city girls sure are lively.”
“‘Mountain cherry blossoms blooming on an early spring pass’—hah?”

Hyodo: “I’ve always wondered about that too—why do country girls have such gloomy faces?”
“Someone like Takako’s the exception.”

Higashi Sadatomi: “Mr. Hyodo—are you still not ‘All Right’ yet?”

Hyodo: “What’s this ‘All Right’ business?”

Higashi: “Oh ho, that’s English, I hear.”
“Oh, what could that be?”
“It’s a married couple, I tell you.”
“Since the shared buses started running, that sort of thing has become rare.”
“Oh my, and what’s more—the woman’s in Western clothes.”
“She seems quite exhausted, poor thing…”
“They can’t possibly cross this mountain pass in that getup.”
“Admittedly, I hear there are folks these days who go mountain climbing, but that’s practically like taking a stroll.”
“Hey, Takako, lay out the cushions.”

Hyodo: “Well now, I suppose it’s about time I took my leave.”

At the point where the mountain pass was just one breath away, the traveling man and woman came to a halt.

“Hey, hang in there,” said the Male Traveler. “What happened to all that vigor from this morning? Once you get past that point, it’s all downhill from there.”

“I know that already,” retorted the Female Traveler. “I’ve never heard tell of a mountain that’s nothing but an endless climb.”

“You’re all mouth and no action…” he muttered. “Hey, quit your bellyachin’. Someone’s coming.”
(addressing them) “Excuse me, might I ask—is that what they call Aikoku Pass?”

Hyodo: “That’s correct. The place with the national flag standing there is indeed it.”
“Pardon me, but where might you be heading?”

Male Traveler: “Ah, once we get up to that pass, we’ll turn right back.”
“We left our lodgings in Horai-cho this morning, but they said it’d be a quick walk even on foot…”

Hyodo: “Ah, in that case…”
“I thought it would be quite the ordeal if you intended to cross this pass again…”
“You won’t reach Yashima Town unless you walk ten ri along the mountain path beyond here…”

“What exactly is there at this Aikoku Pass you keep talking about?”

“Nothing at all,” Hyodo replied. “Just a single tea house.”

“So they only say the scenery’s nice?”

“Well... yes.”

“There, see?” she turned to her husband. “It’s absurd how you decided on your own that you couldn’t understand the maid’s story. This nonsense about some splendid shrine gathering pigs from all over the world—how ridiculous!”

“Hyodo: Who said such a thing?”

“No—it’s this person.”
“He has a habit of imagining things and then talking about them as if they were real.”
“I got swindled and lost out.”

Hyodo: “Ha ha ha! If you hadn’t been tricked, you’d never have managed to climb this slope. The way back will be easier. Now then, do take your time...” (He exits.)

Male Traveler: “So, we turning back from here? Don’t tell me you’ve run out of steam already?”

Female Traveler: “Even if I had steam left, I’ve got no interest in that place. Why don’t you go see it yourself then?”

“Then why don’t you just sit there on the ground and draw a picture or something,” said the male traveler. “‘Rejoice! Be glad! We’ve fought and won…’”

The woman began to sob quietly.

“Enough with the hysterics,” he snapped.

“I’m not hysterical,” she said. “My toes hurt.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Take off my shoes…”

“Alright.” He knelt down. “Like this?” His fingers fumbled with the straps. “And then…?”

“Oh! There’s blood!” She forced a whimper. “Waaah… waaah…”

“Hurry up already.”

“Look at this!”

“No point fussing over it. It’s just a blister.”

“And if it’s not just a blister? What then?”

“You’re insufferable.” He crouched lower. “Get on.”

"You take the shoes!"
"Aren't your hands hurting?"

“Are you making me carry them?”
“Then don’t come crying when my heel ends up in your mouth!”

Male Traveler: Well then, hand them over!
“What’s this? Light as a feather. Just this?”

Don’t act like it’s the first time you’ve seen this, you know.

Male Traveler: Shokunō no yadōmo, wāgā ayaado.

(Pause)

Higashi: “What astonishing guests!”
“Please come in.”
“Please do rest here.”
“Please have a cup of Aikoku Tea House’s astringent tea.”

“Takako! Welcome them in!”
“Please do take a seat.”

“My, what a splendid view.”

“You must realize it’s wasted on me alone.”

“If I’d come by myself, imagine the stories I’d tell you when I returned…”

“No need for tales—your eyes betray everything.”

“Takako! To the back room.”

“Say, Mister—why’s this pass called Aikoku Pass?”

Higashi: “Heh heh, well now... First and foremost—standing upon this pass—what do you feel? Need I even say? The pride of Japan! This natural splendor embodies our very soul! At this very moment, you must be profoundly sensing our ancestral Yamato spirit—handed down through generations!”

“With tranquil seas across four horizons—men valiant and bold, women chaste and refined—how splendid! Just as pure lands nurture great men: there lies Fuji’s sacred peak; here bloom our national mountain cherries! Why, even Sei Shōnagon once versified—ah... ‘On spring’s young pass...’ Yes! ‘Mountain cherries blooming on the pass... Fuji—mere garnish!’ So I perceive.”

“‘Mere garnish’—how apt! To call this view ‘sufficient’ would be modesty itself—your journey’s reward far exceeds such measure! Truly, they captured it well—that even as souvenir, this scene overflows abundance!”

Male Traveler: "That’s enough already, old man."

Higashi: "Oh, I’m not asking for any payment."
"This, too, is for the sake of our nation."

(1935/2)