Pathway to Japanese Literature

Mountain Hotel — the dining room veranda at the end of summer — around nine in the evening.

At the table, the young man and his mother sat facing each other.

“Mother, why don’t you retire for the night? It’s gotten quite cold.”

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen such a clear sky... I’m reluctant to sleep.”

“I need to ponder some matters alone. You can see the sky even from your room.”

“I don’t intend to keep gazing at it forever. When I said I hated to sleep, I meant these moments alone with you won’t last much longer.”

“You mustn’t say such things. Mother, I endlessly dissect every careless word you utter.”

“At first they seem meaningless, but in my mind they gradually take on grave significance.”

“Remember when you remarked how my eyes now mirror Father’s? Perhaps they do.”

“Children naturally resemble their parents. There’s no need to remark on it like some marvel.”

“For years I’ve struggled to comprehend why you voice these observations.”

“The more I dwell on it, the murkier it becomes.”

“Yet ultimately I rationalize it away.”

“This brings no peace—only a leaden weight growing in my chest... like some tumorous mass of dread.”

“You make mountains from molehills—that’s your trouble.”
“Molehills...?”

A long silence.

"A woman as uneducated as me can't come up with any grand ideas no matter how much she thinks. Though I can't say just blurting out whatever comes to mind is blameless either. Thinking all by yourself can lead to terrible things sometimes."

"Please don't say such things. I already understand perfectly well what you're thinking, Mother—even without you uttering a word."

Mother: "When you were small, I used to think that way too—that I completely understood everything going through your mind."

Young Man: "Only during that brief period—when I knew nothing beyond crying and laughing."

Mother: "Even now... I mean to understand your sorrow at least—I must understand it."

Young Man: "Spare me your conceit."

Mother: "You keep trusting me less and less... Have I become someone you no longer need?"

“Unfortunately, there is no need for you.”
“Therefore, I cannot claim you’re unimportant.”
“In short, everything you do for me, Mother, is something I can manage on my own.”
“In the past, I was a part of you.”
“But now, Mother has become a part of me.”

Mother: "I don't understand that sort of logic."
"But there's no helping it now."
"I'll stop opposing what you say."

Young Man: "That would be better for you, Mother."

Mother: "There—you've even begun making those hateful remarks just like Father..."

Young Man: "Why don't you finally retire for the night..."
"It's rather unbecoming for parent and child to be having such conversations."

“Why…”
“Then I suppose we’ll finally go home tomorrow.”

“If that’s what you wish, Mother.”
“I’d thought that with the hotel guests finally reduced to just us, I could now do my thinking in quiet…”

“But I don’t mean to insist on leaving immediately.”
“It’s about time to start winter preparations anyway—and I hadn’t expected it to cool down so suddenly either.”
“……I didn’t bring a single haori, you see.”

Young Man: “Why don’t you have it sent?”

Mother: “That’s fine.”

Young Man: “Please do so.”
“Let’s stay until month’s end.”
“Let’s stay until the hotel closes.”
“The weather looks set to hold for a while, and the autumn grasses will soon be at their best.”

Mother: “This climate feels a bit too harsh for an old person.”
“But well, it probably won’t be anything serious.”
“Well then, good night.”
“Don’t stay up too late now.”
(Starting to rise) “Oh, right—there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for ages. Let me trouble you a little longer.”

Young Man: ….

Mother: “There you go making that face again...”
“Well then, shall we stop?”

Young Man: “If it’s something you must ask regardless, have you ask it now.”

Mother: “You said earlier that you understand everything I'm thinking.”
“Try to guess what I’m thinking right now.”

Young Man: ….

Mother: Try to guess.
(Smiles)

Young Man: (Closing his eyes as if contemplating) I understand.
“Mother is presently thinking about my marriage.”

Mother: “You guessed right.”
“Then…”

Young Man: “Therefore, Mother, you intend to make me marry soon.”

Mother: Yes.
"You've always avoided discussing that—is there some particular reason?"

Young Man: There is.

Mother: Tell me why.

"Is it because you don't want to get married?"

"You don't plan to remain alone forever, do you?"

Young Man: That is precisely my intention.

“Why...”
“Even were I to explain it, Mother, you would not comprehend.”

Mother: "Is it truly such a difficult matter?"

Young Man: "You see, Mother—I fundamentally reject this idea that humans aren't born through their own volition."

Mother: "But even if you say that..."

Young Man: "That's exactly why I refuse to have children."
"That may be my personal sentiment alone, but forcing children to inherit even what they'd reject from their parents—this constitutes truly intolerable agony."

Mother: ….

Young Man: “It’s no use telling you such things, Mother.”
“In any case, I will not marry.”
“You must understand, having said this much…”

Mother: “I don’t have the power to persuade you.”
“However, I do believe I know how to truly make you happy…”

Young Man: “That’s precisely the problem, Mother—it’s because you assume your conception of happiness should directly translate to mine that makes it untenable.”
“The children of this world all lead trivial lives chasing after happiness inherited from their parents.”
“Parents who feel supreme satisfaction watching their children grow and develop exactly as they wish are all around us in great numbers.”
“I don’t want to become one of those parents….”

Mother: ….

Young Man: “Even when stated from the child’s perspective, it remains the same.”
“Why must we distinguish these so-called parents—who selfishly conceived me, selfishly raised me, and selfishly decided my future—from strangers?”
“Why must we respect them more than strangers, love them more than strangers, and care for them more than strangers?”

Mother: ….

Young Man: "No good. No good."
"It's those tears."
"We've been afraid to look at those tears until now."
"That can't possibly be true."
"Mother... Calling you that means nothing."
"It's merely a habit, you see."
"Mother, stop trying to frighten me with those tears."

Mother: “You say such cruel things.”

Young Man: “This much doesn’t bother me. I’ve now swum clear through that ‘sea of affection’ and reached my intended shore.”

Mother: “I don’t remember you ever saying such things to me.”
“If there’s anything mistaken in what I’ve done, tell me everything.”

Young Man: “They’re riddled with mistakes.”

Mother: "You shouldn't say such things."
"That's going too far!"

Young Man: "However, that isn't your sin alone."
"Therefore, I don't mean to blame only you."

“If you don’t like what I’ve done, you can blame me all you want. Just don’t abandon me.”

“I can’t make such a promise.”
“What?”

Young Man: “There—you’re making that shocked face I anticipated. You’ve been unconsciously imposing your will on me all this time through such expressions… This ends now. No matter what occurs, I won’t tolerate that ‘parent-facing’ look from you anymore.”

Mother: “Then you mean to sever our bond as parent and child?”

Young Man: “I say these things precisely because wanting to sever it doesn’t make it possible. I wish I could hate you but find myself unable—yearn to abandon you yet remain incapable.” (voice breaking) “That’s why this parent-child relationship fills me with unbearable revulsion. Mother—mightn’t we discover another way to love?”

Mother (placing a hand on the Young Man's shoulder): “I’ll let you do as you please.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“Well, what should I do?”
“Tell me, I beg you, tell me…”

Young Man: “I don’t know either.”

A long silence.

Mother: “Let’s not dwell on such things anymore tonight and rest quietly. You mustn’t break yourself—there would be no recovering from that.”

Young Man (gazing intently at Mother's face): Thank you.
"I'm now beginning to think about my late Father."

Mother: "Your Father and you thought completely differently."

Young Man: "Lucky me, huh?"
"If things had stayed the same until then, I'd have ended up with Father—"
"No, that's not right."
"What do you think, Mother? When I grow old—will my face become like Father's?"

Mother: “I suppose so.”
“But you’re asking me such things again… No—no, I won’t say anything more, for fear of what comes next.”

Young Man: “You’re being uncharacteristically cautious this time…”
“Well then, let us retire for tonight.”
“I still cannot sleep at all, so I’ll remain here a while longer in this daze.”
“Please go ahead…”

Mother: “Then I’ll have you allow me to retire first.”
“Good night…”
(standing up) “But truly—are you quite all right?”

Young Man: “Regarding what?”
(Absently) “Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

Mother: “In that case...”
(About to leave)

Young Man: “Shall I escort you?”

Mother: “No, no... When there’s no one about, these lamps do appear much brighter.”

Young Man: “Do you think so?
“I feel quite the opposite—it seems to me everything’s grown far darker.”

Mother: “Is that so...
“Either way, one can’t help noticing these lamps...”
(Exits.)

A long time.

Young Man (stood up went over turned off every light returned sat back down)
All illumination vanished simultaneously
He resumed his original position

A long time.

Suddenly, from nowhere, an old gentleman appeared before the Young Man’s eyes.

Young Man (with an expression of anxiety and shock—
Without taking his eyes off the Old Gentleman, he stood up and took two or three steps backward.)

Old Gentleman (gazed vacantly at the Young Man)

Young Man (as if choked): "Father…"

Old Gentleman: ….

Young Man: "Father... what have you done?"

Old Gentleman: “It cannot be helped.”
“So you were here.”

Young Man: …

Old Gentleman: “You don’t believe in ghosts, I take it.”
“But trust your own eyes and ears.”
“For three years now, I’ve existed solely through this sensation of time’s passage—this alone constituting my entire being.”
“You might say that wasn’t truly living. Or rather, you could call it being dead.”
“Yet for mankind, death isn’t the absolute end.”

Young Man: “How did you know we came here?”

Old Gentleman: “How should I know why? Just as my form appeared before your eyes, my eyes unexpectedly saw your form.”

Young Man (clutching his head): “I don’t understand. My mind is going mad.”

Old Gentleman: “That doesn’t matter. Before I died, there was something I wanted to meet you and ask.”

Young Man: When I received word that Father was critically ill, I was deeply torn.
"I spent all night wrestling with whether to return or not."

Old Gentleman: And ultimately you didn't come.
"My funeral...?"

Young Man: I won't return.
"I believed I had no obligation to do so."

Old Gentleman: “You have no right to use the word ‘obligation.’”

Young Man: …

Old Gentleman: “You disobeyed my orders and left home willfully, yet when I died, you’ve willfully intruded back into my house again.”

Young Man: “Mother insists I must return.”

Old Gentleman: “So you felt obligated to inherit my property?”
“There’s no need to bite your lip like that.”
“What you did was only natural.”
“But I want to make one thing clear—I too had wanted you to do exactly that.”

Young Man: …

Old Gentleman: “In the end, you’ve obediently inherited the Okada family by accepting my will as your own. You simply couldn’t defy me no matter what.”

Young Man: “You may interpret it that way if you wish. I don’t find such an interpretation agreeable.”

Old Gentleman: "This is how parents mysteriously come to understand their child's future."
"You only think you understand."

Old Gentleman: “No, that is not so.”
“In time, no matter what detours they take, children will inevitably pass by the signposts their parents erected long ago.”

Young Man: “Is that what constitutes parental pride?”
“I have been constantly thinking about my destiny lately, but I do not wish to believe in parental influence to that extent.”
“But what remains beyond my control is this resemblance.”
“The fact that children resemble their parents—the fact that children inevitably inherit certain things from them.”
“When I think about that, my vision goes completely dark.”

Old Gentleman: “Do you resent resembling me?”

Young Man: “It’s far beyond mere resentment. I would sooner resemble the lowliest human in this world than share any likeness with you. What unsettles me more than disliking how my eyes’ slant, my nose’s shape, or my jaw’s sharpness have grown akin to yours is sensing my own sentimental tendencies, jealous streaks, and occasional quirks of taste mysteriously converging with yours—that terrifies me. Should it become evident through this progression that your talents, your entire personality—above all your will—are precisely my talents, my personality, and my will... that prospect alone would come to feel utterly unbearable.”

Old Gentleman: “If I had been a greater man, you wouldn’t think that way.”

Young Man: “I would have thought so even more. I do not consider living a mundane life like Father’s to be painful—if it were an ordinariness I had chosen myself.”

Old Gentleman: “So you resent me for that?”

Young Man: “When a parent, who should be most humble toward their child, becomes most arrogant, I believe it is permissible to despise that parent.”

Old Gentleman: “I’ve never been despised by anyone except children.”

“I don’t know about that.”
“At least you can’t know unless you ask every child in the world.”

Old Gentleman: “As I said before dying, there was something I wanted to ask you—your feelings toward me.”
“I had thought you’d at least come rushing to me before I drew my last breath.”
“At that moment, I’d meant to tell you first—‘Let’s let bygones be bygones,’ and…”
“Then I’d planned to ask this: ‘Will you believe that I loved you?’ That was all.”
“I want that answer today, but given how our talk has gone, I suppose I shan’t receive the response I hoped for.”

Young Man: …

Old Gentleman: “Furthermore, there are various other things I wish to know. First, upon hearing of my death, did you grieve—or did you rejoice?”

Young Man: …

Old Gentleman: “You would not feel joy either.”

Young Man: “As you have surmised.”

Old Gentleman: “There are various kinds of sadness. What kind of sadness was yours, for instance?”

Young Man: “Why do you ask such a thing?”

Old Gentleman: “There is a reason I want to know.”
“Imagine a world without light or sound—and there，hateful memories from life become formless delusions dancing within ‘time’ that flows eternally.”
“Thus，counting it fortunate that I could speak with you on earth，I wish to reduce the number of these delusions by even one.”
“Or do you claim you did not even feel that much sadness?”

Young Man: “I would like to say that，” replied the Young Man，“but it did not come to pass.”

Old Gentleman: “Speak plainly.”

“Then let me speak the plain truth—I cried aloud.”

A long silence.

Old Gentleman: “When you returned home, what did Mother say?”
Young Man: “Mother... Mother was...”
Old Gentleman: “What did she say?”
“Eh? What did she say?”

Young Man: “I don’t remember well.”
“No, I don’t remember a single word.”
“But those were such sorrowful words—so profoundly sad that one might wonder if such words could exist in this world.”

Old Gentleman: “That would indeed be so.”

Young Man: “If it were me now, I would have let those words wash over me more coldly.”

Old Gentleman: “You claim to have changed so much? From my perspective, you remain precisely as you always were. What you perceive as change is merely my having foreseen this development. You tread unwittingly along the path I once walked. That figure before me isn’t truly you at all—it’s myself from thirty years past.”

Young Man: “That’s a lie.”
“That’s a lie.”

Old Gentleman: "I no longer need to hear anything from you. You will come crying into my arms again someday."

Young Man: "No! Absolutely not! That would never—"

The Old Gentleman's figure disappeared.

Young Man covered his face with both hands.
Eventually knelt on the floor and collapsed over the chair.

Mother appears.

Mother: "What's wrong? Huh, what's wrong?"

Young Man: …

Mother: "Are you feeling unwell?"
(Places a hand on the Young Man's shoulder)

Young Man: (Shook his head)

Mother: "I thought I'd rest, but I got worried about you and came back up. You're not taking a nap like that, are you?"

Young Man: (Quietly raises his face) “Please leave me be. This way my head grows most still.”

Mother: “You’ve been truly worn down lately. Your complexion isn’t good either.”

Young Man: “In this modern age, all those with healthy complexions are fools. I’ve come to envy people who live solely by the sensation of time passing.”

Mother: “Time does pass quickly, doesn’t it?”

Young Man: “Is that so? Now please leave me alone a while longer. Otherwise there’s no telling what nonsense I might utter.”

Mother: “I’ve thought of nothing but staying out of your way, yet you never try to understand my feelings.”

Young Man: “More complaints? It can’t be helped, can it? —Tell me rather, Mother—have you seen Father in your dreams of late?”

Mother: “Why must you ask that again?”
Young Man: “There happens to be a reason.”

“When I hear the word ‘Father’ come from your mouth… I don’t know what to say. Before he passed away, your father spoke of nothing but you. Would it be too much for you to show some consideration for how he felt……?”
“No—that’s not what I’m asking about. Mother, have you been seeing Father in your dreams lately? Or have you not seen him at all?”

“Well… once in a while,” said Mother.
“What does he speak about?” pressed Young Man.
“I never recall particulars,” she deflected.
“Just old matters mostly.”

Young Man: “When you say ‘things of the past,’ what sort of things do you mean?”

Mother: "…"

Young Man: "Is it something from a long time ago?"

Mother: "I s'pose so."
"I don't really remember, you know."

Young Man: "Father was probably already married when he was my age, wasn't he?"

Mother: "Was that so?"

Young Man: That must be the case.
"Was Father ever as melancholic as I am?"

Mother: He probably wasn't like that, you know.

Young Man: "Was he as neurotic as I am?"

Mother: He probably wasn't like that.

Young Man: "Was Father a dreamer like me?
Did he often get lost in vacant contemplation like this?"

Mother: No, that wasn’t the case.

Young Man: "Was he a contrarian like me?"

Mother: He might not have been quite as contrary as you.

Young Man: “Was he a people-hater like me?”
“Was he the type to avoid talking to people?”

Mother: “Well, he was quiet—certainly quiet—but you know.”

Young Man: “Then he doesn’t resemble me in the slightest.”

“If anything about you resembles anyone, there are parts exactly like my younger self.”
“I too would often sit alone, lost in thought.”
“On moonlit nights, I’d stay up for hours propping my elbow on the windowsill, just gazing at the sky.”

Young Man: “That’s not it at all.”

Mother: “Moreover,I felt embarrassed meeting people,y'know.”
“Even when guests came,I just couldn't bring myself to appear.”
“That's how I ended up getting scolded by Grandmother once.”

Young Man: “That’s a different matter.”

Mother: “In that case，you do take after him in being contrary.”
“Even if you do something clumsy，you can’t bring yourself to say ‘I’m sorry,’ you know.”

Young Man: “Mother，that’s quite enough.”
“I don’t care who I take after.”
“That’s simply beyond anyone’s control.”
“However，just because I resemble Father and Mother，that’s nothing for Father and Mother to take pride in.”
“The fact that a child resembles their parents is the greatest misfortune for the child，you know.”
“Please give some thought to that as well.”
“For that reason alone，children have every right to voice their dissatisfaction toward their parents.”

Mother: “You’ve started spinning that incomprehensible logic again.”

Young Man: “Father ultimately died without ever looking at my face because of that.
Mother, you must mind yourself as well.
If you carelessly use that motherly tone with me, I won’t let it pass.
There’s no need to look so startled.
Mother of all people would never do anything so foolish...
Until now, Mother has truly been a proper mother.”

Mother: “What on earth will he say next, this child...”

Young Man: “Please believe me—I will make sure you alone find happiness, Mother. In return, you must heed everything I say.”

Mother: “As the saying goes—the aged must obey their children.”

Young Man: “So you’re versed in such calculating maxims too? Very well. Then I shall command you for your own benefit—rub my feet.”

Mother: (Rubs the Young Man's feet)

“Put more strength into it...”

(...)

“Don’t just focus on one spot like that...”

Mother: (Continued rubbing...)

Young Man: “Mother, do you understand this agonizing battle of mine? I must prevail—absolutely and completely. Otherwise I cannot go on living. I will surely cast off these bizarre thoughts gnawing into my mind—now, this foot...”

Mother: (Continued rubbing...)

Young Man: “Does what I’m doing seem unnatural? You’re crying again, Mother. What makes you so sorrowful? Is it truly so painful being forced to massage your fully-grown son’s feet like this? Endure it a little longer. Keep doing that until I say it’s enough.”

Mother (cries out loud, yet makes no move to stop her hands massaging his feet)

Young Man: “Go ahead and cry. Cry all you want. Cry as much as you like.”
“I won’t succumb to something like that.”
“Even I—as you can see—am clenching my teeth.”
“I am clenching my fists tightly.”
“Come now, Mother—you too must give me courage.”
“Please massage more vigorously.”
“More earnestly….”
(Writhes as though suffocating)

―Curtain―