Pathway to Japanese Literature

Characters

Husband

Wife

Time: A Sunny Sunday Afternoon

Place: A Japanese-style room facing the garden

Husband (leaning on a rattan chair on the engawa, reading a newspaper):

“Mr. Turner, manager of the American Fuller Construction Company, visited Mejiro Cultural Village one day and exclaimed, ‘Oh, a microcosm of Los Angeles!’ As he stated, Mejiro Cultural Village has now become an elegant and beautiful residential area.”

Wife (spreading a zabuton cushion near the engawa and knitting): “What’s that?”

Husband (continuing to read): “The 40,000-tsubo district contains orderly roads, sanitary sewage systems, electricity and heat supply facilities, tennis courts, and other amenities. Numerous neat bungalows, stately Wright-style architecture, and even elegant Japanese-style villas are enveloped in the bright environment of this elevated area rich with views of Mount Fuji and abundant trees…”
(Tossing the newspaper aside) “Hey, should we try going for a walk or something?”

"Just go to Mr. Kawakami’s already."
"I really don’t have to go."
"When I decide to do something, it has to be right away or I can’t stand it."
"A walk?"

“A walk or whatever...”

(Pause)

“Even if I say ‘a walk or whatever,’ do you have anything else to do?”

“There isn’t anything else, so that should be fine, shouldn’t it?”

Husband: “Ah.”

"Why don’t you go to Mr. Kawakami’s? Stop saying such things."

“I don’t want to go anymore.”

Wife: "Why don't you go ahead? Please?"

Husband: "I'm not going. I want to stay here with you."
"You never understand anything."

Wife: "I understand perfectly well, Mr. Hesitant."

(Pause)

Husband: "Ah... So this is our precious Sunday?"

Wife: "That it is."

Husband (picks up the newspaper again, reading it absentmindedly)

It would be interesting if newspapers held prize contests for solutions to situations like this.

Wife: "I'll submit one."

Husband (engrossed in the newspaper, feigning disinterest): "What would you submit?"

Wife: "What's the title of the problem?"

Husband: "The problem... Well, the problem would be 'How to Spend Sundays During the First Year of Marriage...'"

Wife: "In that case, I don't know."

“It’s not that I don’t get it,” he said. “Then why don’t you try phrasing it?”

“Methods for wives not to get bored on Sundays.”

“And methods for husbands not to be inconvenienced either...”

“That’s good.”

“Do you have some brilliant plan?”

“I do.”
“First, a wife wakes up in the morning, promptly goes to the bathhouse, dutifully finishes her makeup, changes into her kimono, and announces she’ll briefly visit a friend’s place.”

“Then...”

“Then the man would surely make a displeased face.”

“It’s not set in stone.”
“It’s about you.”
“When have I ever made a displeased face?”
“You don’t.”
“Fine. Then what?”

Wife: “You’ll make a displeased face.”
“Then I’d say—‘To tell the truth, I don’t really want to go either, but if it gets out later that I was just lazing about at home, that’d be awkward… Then every time we meet them, they’d probably say: “Do come visit once—on Sundays your husband’s home too, so let’s all go to the theater together.” So today, since you’re staying in anyway, I think I’ll just pop over.’”
“Or perhaps I’d gently ask if you have any prior engagements—in a roundabout way.”

“In a roundabout way, huh? Well, not that I mind, but if you’re gone, what about lunch?”

“For lunch, I’ve prepared ochazuke.”

“And dinner?”

“I’ll stop by Azumaya on my way out and have them make an oyako don or something.”

“Oyako again? You’ll probably come back late.”

“Well… I’m not sure myself, but when it’s ten o’clock, please lay out your bedding and go to sleep.”

Husband: “Do you have money?”

Wife: “That’s already all gone.”

Husband: “Well then, I’ll hand this over. Here, ten yen.”

Wife: “Thank you.”

Husband: “The night wind’s already cold—take a scarf.”

Wife: “Okay.”

Husband: “Well then, I think I’ll leisurely read a book or something. Just make sure the bath’s heated. If a guest comes, there are still some biscuits left...”

I won’t even shave today.
Ahh, what a peaceful Sunday.

Wife: (Silently looks down.)

“What do you want to do?”
“You’re impossible.”

“Why?”
“Just because.”
(Throwing down the newspaper) “Is that so? Then if you were a man, what would you do in that situation?”

“Times like that…”
“Would you stop me?”
“I’d stop you—say something to make me.”
“What would you say to stop me?”
“If we can manage without going at all… today, how about going to the theater with me or something…”

“I see. What if someone says ‘Let’s go together’? What’ll you do?”

“Then go.”

“Then go. But what if I don’t want to go? Even if you want to go, what if circumstances don’t allow it? Like today’s situation.”

“Then isn’t it fine if we switch from theater to movies?”

“Movies… That’s… You know couples don’t go see those together.”

“Why?”

“Go ask anyone.”

“That’s what’s wrong with you.”
“I’m different from other women.”
“You probably aren’t.”
“That’s exactly why you’re dangerous.”

“What are you talking about?”
“After all, once I decide to go out, it’s better not to try stopping me.”
“I suppose so. Then go ahead—to Mr. Kawakami’s place or wherever.”

Husband: “Quit being so persistent. What did you say this morning? ‘If I said I’d go to Kawakami’s place—Mr. Kawakami this, Mr. Kawakami that—why would you pine so desperately for someone I see every day at the office? It wouldn’t kill me to stay home for one Sunday, would it?’ ‘Why am I even doing this?’ You said that, didn’t you?”

Wife: “What about it?”

Husband: “Doesn’t matter. The problem is you asking why you’re even doing this.”

Wife: (Turning slightly away) Oh? Is it wrong for me to be like this?

Husband: Even being like this—there must be a better way to be like this.
"I read the newspaper."
"You start knitting."
"I heave a sigh."
"You heave a sigh too."
"I yawn."
"You yawn too."
"I…"

Wife: So when I suggest going out somewhere, you come up with this and that…

Husband: Alright, I get that.
"But it’s not as if we got married just to go somewhere on Sundays."
"Even staying home, we should be able to live a bit more cheerfully."

“Because you never talk.”
“Conversation… What kind of conversation is there even to have?”
“Conversation is something you ‘do’.”
“It doesn’t just ‘exist’.”

“What the hell was that…
“Philosophy?”
“Fine—let’s establish conversation as something we ‘do’.”
“You don’t talk either, do you?”

“It’s because you keep telling me I’m too loud.”

“It’s because you talk when I’m doing something.”
“That’s a lie—I do it after you’ve fallen asleep too.”

“Because I’m sleepy.”

“To tell the truth,” she said solemnly, “if I could just stay quietly by your side, that would be enough for me. If you’d pay me just a little more attention… I wonder how much better things might be.”

He twitched his nostrils. “What’s for dinner?”

“Undecided,” she replied cheerfully. “Depends on today’s results.”

Unable to match her tone, he muttered, “You’re still such a schoolgirl.”

“What do you mean? I always think this way about Sundays—when we do have free time, going to see a play or eating out somewhere nice would be fine, but those should come second. There are so many proper homely pleasures we could have instead.”
“Even our garden... This is just too much.”
“If you’d help out, making a little flower bed would be nothing at all.”
“By now, we’d see cosmos flowers blooming everywhere if we had one.”
“It doesn’t look presentable from outside either.”

“That’s why I say you’re a schoolgirl.”
“Then you’re an elementary school student.”

Husband: (Laughing) Do I really have such tendencies?
Wife: You do.

“Hey, let’s go for a walk.”

“It’s already late.”
“That vicinity would do.”
“Where? Inokashira?”

“The Tama River would do.”

“Then let’s save that for when we have more time.”
“If we don’t make a proper plan—like having lunch somewhere—it’ll just be dull.”

“How much do you have?”

“No—not today. Not this kind of talk.”

(While bending his fingers) “Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…”

“In that case, unless we make preparations from morning and leave right after breakfast…”
“We should decide everything the night before.”

“That’s right—we should decide where we’re going and just go.”
“A day trip to Kamakura might be nice.”

“There’s a place I want to go.”

“If we’re doing that,” he said, “there’s a train leaving Tokyo Station around eight-something.”
“Second class,” she specified.

“Obviously.”
“We need to hurry and grab those window-side seats facing each other.”
“I’ll place my cane and your parasol like this on the rack…”

“I’d rather keep hold of it.”

Husband: “I see. Those who board after us will look at us and think, ‘Ah, they’re putting on airs,’ then try to grab seats as close as possible.”

Wife: “How silly.”

The train began to move.

Wife: “Open the window, would you?”

Husband: “The soot will get in.
Look at that—that’s the site of Hamarikyu.”

Wife: “Oh.”

Husband: “Shinagawa, Shinagawa—transfer to the Yamanote Line.”

Wife: “It’s fast, isn’t it?
I’ll buy caramel.”

Husband: “Alright, hey—caramel.”

Wife: How about you?

Husband: I’ll have some.
Ōmori passes by, and soon the president’s house will come into view.

“That’s the one, right? What a stingy house.”

“It’s a stingy house.
Kamata and Kawasaki we’ll skip—then Yokohama.
We’ve got no business stopping at places like this either.
Hodogaya, Totsuka—and now we’ve arrived at Ōfune.”

“I’ll buy sandwiches.”

“Alright, hey—sandwiches.”

“How about you?”
“Hmm, I’ll have some.”
“No—I’ll eat them all by myself.”

He prepared to disembark.
Putting on his geta...

Wife: “I’m not just sitting here doing nothing—how could you...”

Husband: “First off, if we’re going anywhere at all—Hachimangu Shrine would make sense.”
“You do know where that is?”

Wife: “Of course I do.”
“But why don’t we try going to the coast instead?”

Husband: “That would be fine.”
“Let me see…”

Wife: “We could call for a car.”

Husband: “Right—hey, taxi!”
“Come on, you get in first.”

“Well then, I must beg your pardon.”

Then he lit a cigarette.

“Before that,” she said, “you should tell the driver our destination.”

“How about the coast?”

“That’s strange—all the way to the coast? Excuse me, Driver—Kaibin Hotel.”

“Isn’t Kaibin Hotel closed?”

“You’re lying.”

“Can’t be helped.” He sighed. “Go on then.”

Vroom, vroom, vroom...

“What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s already here, you know.”

“Well then,” said the husband. “Please show us to a room with a fine view.”

“Wouldn’t the dining room be fine?”

“Right—so you order something.”

“And you?”

“I’ll have anything.”

“Then two Calpis drinks—cold ones.”

“Hey, you—you there. Since there’s still time before noon, let’s take a walk around here.”
“I’ll be back by twelve, so have something tasty ready for me.”

“Yes.”

“And I’d like to stay awhile—do you have a decent room available?”
“One with a bathroom…”

“Bathroom… You mean the bath area.”

Husband: “Shh.”
“Ah, right.”
“Well then, let’s go with that.”
“No—you don’t need to look.”
“And then—you don’t have an airplane at your establishment?”

Wife: “You.”

“No.”
“Well then, there’s no helping it.”
“Let’s walk there.”
“Now then—my cane…”
“You didn’t leave it on the train again, did you?”

“No—I gave it to the Bellboy.”
“Ah, that’s it.”

“Which way are we going?”
“That over there is Enoshima Island.”
“What a lovely view.”
“Watch your step or you’ll fall. Here—I’ll hold your hand.”

“People will see,” she said.

“Let them look—it’s their loss,” he retorted. “Tired? Let’s rest here then. You could even go in the sea if you want.”

“I’ll go in.”

“Go on,” he urged. “Hmm... You’ve got a decent figure when you’re naked. Don’t wander too far out.”

Wife: I’ll be fine.

Husband: Wait, wait—stay right there like that.
“Let me take a photograph.”
“Now then—ready?”
“Hmm, this is splendid!”
(Growing increasingly excited) “Never before have you looked this beautiful.”
“How’s that pose...?”
“What an extraordinary color.”
“Ah yes! Goodness—your hair was this long?”
“Your bosom was this full?”
“Ah—you’re smiling.”
“Turn and face this way.”
“Hmm—so these are your eyes.”
“Ahh, that mouth of yours—” (he exclaimed as if losing himself)

Wife (raising her face for the first time, chidingly): “You...”

(A long silence)

“Come here and look.”

Wife (laughing)

Husband (extending both hands): “Come here and look.”

“No.”

“Come here and look, I’m telling you.”

Wife (standing up, taking her husband’s hands and shaking them): “There’s just no good way to describe you, is there?”

“How about—” (trying to pull his wife closer)

“No, you shouldn’t do that.”

Husband (still holding her hand): “You’re really not getting tired of me, are you? Being like this with me…”

“What about you?”

Husband: "The truth is, I’ve gradually come to find being with you like this less enjoyable."
"But when I imagine you gone, I feel like I can’t stay still—whether standing or sitting."
"That’s also true."

Wife: "Which one is true?"

Husband: "Both are true… (pause) So I keep thinking this can’t go on. But there’s nothing to be done about it."
"(Pause) You sit here next to me like this, knitting in silence."
"Are you truly satisfied with that?"
"That can’t be right."
"When I’m away, you must sit alone in some corner of the room like this—vaguely lost in thought."
"When I’m out, I picture your lonely figure in my mind over and over."
"Our life—this life where we only care about figuring out how to extravagantly spend less than a hundred yen each month—don’t you ever grow thoroughly sick of it?"
"You might have resigned yourself to it, thinking there’s no use in me saying such things now."
"But you’re not a woman without ideals."
"I want to know what you’re thinking right now."
"What will become of us if we keep living like this?"
"Am I wrong?"
"Or are you trying to relive the dreams you had in your girlhood all over again?"

“You’re such a fool.” (She tried to laugh but her face twisted into tears)

“Humans are all fools,” said the husband.
“They don’t even understand themselves.”
“Come now—let’s stop this sort of talk.”

“But it’s been so long since I cried.”

“I’ll abandon you and go out this Sunday.”
“It’s only natural you’d resent that.”
“You must want some distraction too.”
“A movie’s hardly worth mentioning.”
“Shall we go out after dinner?”

(Wife nods)

“Let’s go.”
“Then get yourself to the bath already.”

(Wiping tears) “I don’t need one today.”

“Why?”

Wife: “You’re the one who’s on your third day today.”

Husband: “Hmm… I do have a slight cold… Well, today should be fine.”
“More importantly—it’s three-thirty now… Right! I’ll just step out for a bit before dinner.”

Wife (returning to her seat resentfully): “Where are you going?”

Husband: “It’s nothing—I’ll be back soon.”

Wife (gazed at her husband’s face, tried to say something, then suddenly looked down): “Oh… It’s fine.”

Husband (fidgeting): “I’m not going to Kawakami’s place.”

Wife (awkwardly): “Wherever it is makes no difference.”
Husband (squatting beside his wife): “You think I’m off to play billiards.”
Wife (without turning): “Just go already.”

“Are you angry?”

Wife (crying again)

Husband (at a loss): “What’s wrong? Really?”

Wife: “It was my fault.”

Husband: “There’s no right or wrong here, isn’t there? That’s why I’m going to the movie later.”

Wife (sighing): “I’ve already understood.”

“What exactly have you understood?”

“I’ll give up properly now.”

“What are you...?”

“I’m sorry.”

Husband: “This is weird.”

Wife: “How curious it is.”
“Other wives feel quite relieved and happy when their husbands are away.”
“But I found that curious.”

Husband: “Well, that’s only natural—for it to be strange.”

“But today, I finally stopped finding that strange.”

“Huh.”
“Men really are made to go out in the morning and come back in the evening.”

Husband (gave a bitter smile)

Wife: “Why must men act as though staying home is some grand favor they’re bestowing? Women find that unbearable, don’t they?”

“It’s not like I’m trying to make you feel indebted or anything.”

“Then if you’ve got somewhere to go, just go on and leave already.”
“That way feels much better.”

Husband (sat back down in the chair and began reading the newspaper).

Wife: "I’m terrified of Sundays."

“I’m terrified too.”

(Pause)

Wife: “You spoil me far too much, you know.”
(begins knitting)

“That’s probably not the case.”
“No, that’s exactly how it is.”
“Tricky business, this.”
“Look at other people’s homes.”
“I’m looking.”
“Do as you see fit.”

“I can’t do it.”
“Women grow presumptuous, you know.”

Husband: “I know.”
Wife: “Then that’s fine.”

(A long silence)

“Aren’t we managing reasonably well like this?”
“It’s that ‘just a bit more’ part, isn’t it?”

Husband: Money?
Wife: That’s not it, you know.

(A long silence)

Husband: “Should we get a dog?”

“A bird would be better.”

(A long silence)

Husband (yawns).

Wife (yawns)

(Pause)

“Hey, want me to tell you a story?”

Wife: “Yes.”

Husband: “Once upon a time there lived a man and a woman in a certain place.
The man started working at a company right after finishing school.
The girl was still attending girls’ school.
Every morning at the same time, they met at the same suburban station.
Before long they began bowing to each other.
When the man arrived early, he waited for the woman to come.
When the woman arrived early, she...”

Wife: “She went on ahead...”

Husband: “That sort of thing did happen.”

At this moment, a girl’s voice cried out, “Oh!”
(A large paper balloon came rolling into the garden.)

Husband (threw down the newspaper, descended into the garden, and picked up the balloon)

Wife (muttering to herself): "Chieko’s at home today."

Husband (silently begins tapping the balloon).

Wife: “That’s enough, you… (loudly) Chieko, come here. Let’s tap the balloon properly.”

Husband (continued earnestly tapping the balloon).

Wife (stood up, brought geta from the entranceway and stepped into the garden): “You mustn’t use so much force… (noticing a child beyond the fence) Come now, let’s tap it right, Chieko.”
(As she spoke, she snatched the balloon her husband had been tapping.) “Chieko, come around from that side.”

Husband (chasing after his wife impatiently): “Here, let me have a go, you…!”

――Curtain――