Pathway to Japanese Literature

Toothache

Passing through M City, they arrived at A Hot Springs when it was already night.

Having spent over half of this particularly unrelenting summer in Tokyo, Yuu - accompanied by Aiko while handling matters related to his second son's adoption alongside their planned three or four days of mountain air respite - had visited relatives at S Lakeside; now avoiding the Chuo Line constantly plagued by coal smoke on his return journey, he decided to detour through conveniently accessible A Hot Springs with the intention of taking an alternate route home by stopping somewhere along the way.
It had been six or seven years since he had last seen that hot spring.
Though never particularly fond of it, since that hot spring remained the sole place he had ever taken his deceased daughter on a trip, he found himself inexplicably drawn to it.

“It’s nothing more than a simple pleasure resort, but quite a variety of people go there.”
Yuu spoke of such matters in the car as it was passing through M City.

As it was a mere three- or four-day trip, he wanted to make the most effective use of it possible, and though there were many places in this mountainous region he wished to visit, in the end there was nothing for it but to settle on such an ordinary spot.
Due to having sent the children to the seaside, he could not be away from Tokyo for long.

“Right,”
“Anywhere’s fine.”
“Now that we’re out here, I want to savor some travel atmosphere before returning.”

“We’ll stay one night at A, then stop somewhere else along the way.”
“Shall we head down to Karuizawa or something like that?”

“Lovely! I want to go!”

Though they were relatives of Yuu’s deceased wife and likely meant well, having left that house which felt oppressive to Aiko, she had suddenly perked up.

“I’m happy!” Aiko said this and placed a hand on his hakama-clad knee.

When leaving his relatives' house, he had put on a stiff hakama. He who preferred simple attire could not himself understand why he had worn hakama. He had probably thought that at the lakeside, there might possibly be gatherings of fellow enthusiasts who would invite him as they had done before, which was why he had prepared the hakama; however, given that his worth as an artist had considerably declined of late and he stayed only two nights, his arrival ended up reaching no one's ears. The trunk was full, and while this was partly to reduce the luggage bulk, having Aiko with him meant that many people would immediately recognize who he was, so it couldn’t be said that there wasn’t some intention to maintain appearances at work. He was no formalist, but neither had he transcended to the point of utterly disregarding such things. He sometimes felt like tearing it off and casting it away while on the train.

The car glided into the gate of the familiar inn.
And the two were shown to a well-ventilated room on the second floor.

“This place is nice.”

“Oh, how splendid! What a lovely atmosphere!”
She stepped out to the handrail and gazed at the distant nightscape of M City’s twinkling lights.

“I feel rather uneasy about this place.”
Yuu said while removing his hakama to change into a yukata.

“Right.”

“Last time I came here, in the downstairs room, a maid brought fire, overturned the coal shovel, and ruined the freshly replaced blue tatami mats—we ended up placing a brazier over it. But after I left, I kept thinking they probably blamed me for it.”

“Oh.”

“It was April, and rapeseed flowers were blooming around there, but since my cold wasn’t getting better, I had to return to my relatives’ house in M City earlier than planned. Afterwards, the innkeeper’s brother even went out of his way to bring tofu himself… Tofu is a local specialty here.”

"Right.
'I want to eat it.'
'But don't mind such things!'

They ordered sakura tofu among their dishes and went to bathe.
Her tall figure clad in a too-short yukata, she danced her way out into the corridor.

The bathhouse's layout had changed considerably.
Several family baths had just been added, and it appeared rooms had been newly built; as they walked along the new corridor, there were sections where the walls remained unpainted.

Soaking in the hot water, Yuu recalled the child he had left with his relatives.
When he calculated everything, Yuu had squandered in the blink of an eye an amount nearing nearly a year's worth of household expenses, yet seeing how the boy had withered like that after writhing in every direction until reaching an impasse, he still felt a pang in his chest.

"So if he comes to understand there's no choice but to proceed properly after touching the real world, then what was spent needn't be regretted."
Whatever I might be doing, shouldn't you all just keep studying?
I have my own life, and each of you has your own individual lives—we mustn't let them get mixed up.
It might be fine to torment myself, but isn't destroying my own life utterly foolish?
I might be late myself, but women are still too early for you all.
"And quit drinking completely."

Though there had certainly been issues between his father and Aiko, it became clear that during his year away from school he himself had grown to detest academics and now sought to embrace a more carefree, ordinary way of life. Bad companions, drink, and women had utterly wrecked his fragile mind.

His face at the relatives' house had turned gaunt, as though some possessing fox-spirit had abandoned him. He appeared both wearied by daily existence and thoroughly settled into his role as adopted heir of that nightlife-business household.

“I wonder if it’s right to insist on taking him in.”

"But he did seem lonely."
"He'll probably come to Tokyo soon."
"For your children, there's no place better than your home, Sensei."

"But that might be for the best as it is, don't you think?"
"I suppose I feel that way too."

Somehow, a vision of Mitsuko crying floated into his mind.
Ten years ago, when Mitsuko was still four or five years old, she often cried during that trip.
Once she started attending school, she learned to endure it entirely.
And year by year, she had shown the budding of a brain and talent superior to anyone else's.

"Why did a child like that have to die?"
"It still mystifies me."

Before he knew it, he had reverted to foolishness.

"My deceased wife had been relying solely on him."

“Doesn’t he resemble Yōko-chan?”

“There’s some resemblance, but…”

She again brought up the matter of her brother who had died at the end of the year before last.

Yuu grew melancholy.
However, upon returning to the room, his mood immediately brightened.
The two of them sat down to the meal.

“How’s the tofu?”

“It’s delicious.”
“But it’s a bit firm.”
“The chicken hotpot was much better.”

“There’s nothing here.”

“This is plenty. I feel splendid.”
“I hate restraining myself with food at other people’s houses!”
“I didn’t have to keep eating.”
“Though at Sensei’s house, such things never occur.”

She was comporting herself like a young girl.

The next morning, they were in a different room.
Last night, their bedding had been laid out there.

After finishing breakfast and chatting about the novels Aiko had read from the day before yesterday through last night, Yuu was having trouble deciding their destination.

“If it’s a place Sensei likes, anywhere is fine.”

Then the innkeeper brought poetry cards.

“I wonder if I’ve improved somewhat since last writing this.”

“Please have Mr. Satomura look too.”

“Hm.
“Someone like me…”

“He’s poetry itself.”
“Lately he’s been practicing calligraphy in Issa’s style.”

“Is that so? Please do show us.”

“This is Issa’s hometown after all.”

“Indeed.”

“You can’t write characters like Issa’s though.”

The innkeeper understood Issa well.
He was a haiku poet.
After some time had passed, he brought in several items resembling Issa's hanging scrolls and draft manuscripts.
Finally, upon being entreated, he inscribed characters on the box for the "Gate Cooling" painting inscription scroll.

The tanzaku booklet was then spread out before the two of them.

A hurried journey, alas—with no destination in mind.

The phrase suddenly caught his eye.
It was because it was Mr. M.H's work.

“Interesting.
That’s the entirety of that man.”
Yuu let out a hearty laugh.

“That’s lovely.”

“The characters are interesting too.”

“That’s right.”

After checking the train schedule and route to Karuizawa and such, the two departed from there.

“Show me a bit of the town!”

As the car entered the town, she said.

"Right, towns like this all have such fixed patterns."
"Shall we go see the castle keep?"

“Anywhere is fine.”

The area around the castle moat resembled City A in her country where she had been shown around last year.

“Wherever we go, everyone remains stuck like this, don’t they?”
“It looks so tedious.”
Aiko muttered while gazing at the townscape on the way to the station.

The heat on the way from M City to the transfer station at S Station was unbearable.
Wherever they went, there wasn't a breath of wind.
Yet the natural scenery along the way delighted their eyes.
Sweat began seeping into Yuu's weary body.
His head felt as if maggots were swarming within it, his senses growing muddled.
He hadn't noticed until now, but the fever from his swollen tooth roots was particularly souring his mood.
The toothache had always tormented him at seasonal turns.
With his life grown increasingly disordered of late, there'd been no day for proper dental treatment.
Though pus often reached down to the bone, he'd maintained his teeth—those destined to worsen with age as they steadily eroded—just enough to avoid impeding survival. Feeling life's lonely twilight in each decaying tooth, he still couldn't resolve to seek decisive treatment.
This too mirrored his existence—a sun setting on some distant path.
Before him lay multitudes of unresolved problems.
The weakness of being too dragged by reality's force always left him timid.

Yuu was so parched by the heat that he didn't notice his swollen tooth.
He didn't know where this fever came from.

"Isn't this heat unbearable?"
Yuu laughed with an expression that masked tears.

"Truly.
I want to reach a cool place soon."
Aiko made a bored yet irritated face.

"But you don't seem to sweat."

Indeed, she was someone who always appeared pure.

"That's not true."
"This gauze undershirt feels clammy against my skin."
"What an absolute nuisance this obi is."
"But you despise Western clothing, don't you?"

"No, not exactly..."

"Right."

“I guess my body’s still not right, huh.”

“That’s not true at all.”
“You’re just worn out from the heat.”
“I’m getting dizzy too.”

By the time they neared the transfer station at S―, the sun had already begun to set, making the heat somewhat more bearable.
The sight of long-familiar hot spring resort advertisement boards lining the mountain base now stimulated Yuu's restlessness like that of a fever patient.
He had bought tickets to Karuizawa, but toward this land he had never once set foot in, he felt a strange sort of resentment-like sensation.
The reason remained unclear even to himself.
The preconceived notion that its villa district status must inherently carry a thick bourgeois atmosphere certainly formed one reason, but so too did both its recent reputation as the most popular summer resort and the fact that this highland—initially discovered by foreign missionaries—made them feel, more than any particular gratitude for its foreign-discovered novelty, an unease as Japanese inhabiting Japanese soil that even the discovery of their own nation's summer resorts had to await foreigners.

It was just around this time last year.
He had once visited a certain woman—a treasured figure of the grand bourgeoisie whom his friend knew—together with that friend.
At that time, she had just returned within two or three days from Karuizawa, where she would seclude herself in her villa there every year from summer through autumn.
And throughout the entire time, she had been effusively praising that summer resort atmosphere.

“When you go from Karuizawa to Ikaho, it’s like arriving in a slum.”
“It’s simply not worth considering.”
the woman said.

On top of that, she had shown him an arrogant attitude regarding his love life—as if deigning to offer her opinions on it.
She went on to declare that all Japanese literature was mere imitation of foreign works, and was therefore utterly inferior compared to imported goods.
Of course, this kind-hearted yet uneducated woman was thoroughly steeped in vulgar materialism from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes—an old-fashioned type through and through.

Yuu had also felt something envious this morning at A Hot Springs when, from seeing Mr. M’s haiku, he imagined the man’s blissful life of love and art in Karuizawa shared solely with his wife.
From he who had long been considered the most compatible colleague among their group came a grand critical essay wielded like a sword held high about Yuu's love affairs and artistic life—though its lack of friendliness compared to people's perceptions might be natural as artistic criticism, and though the great chasm between their lifestyles and artistic inclinations might be unavoidable, nevertheless, when compared to his own multifaceted work that in both quality and volume was brilliant enough to illuminate recent literary circles through its combative spirit, Yuu felt his own life, riddled with collapse and trivial pursuits, seemed utterly wretched.
Yuu found himself clearly displeased at heart when he thought of that.

"If he had changed direction and gone to Akakura instead, it might have been better."

“I don’t know anything about Akakura.”

“I haven’t been there either. But they say you can see the beloved northern sea…”

Even so, he wanted to get as close to Tokyo as possible.
The train was approaching Usui Pass.

They alighted at nighttime Karuizawa.
Before the dark station, illuminated by welcoming lanterns, glistening cars and human figures came into view.
With somewhat timid bearing, Yuu stepped forward.
And as invited, they boarded M Hotel’s automobile.

The car passed through what seemed like a rundown town and threaded its way along a path through a lonely grove of trees. As it wound through twisting paths, they were led from the main building's front entrance to the Japanese-style annex on the left.

The room they were shown to was one of several separate buildings—a connecting chamber reached by climbing a narrow set of steep stairs. It consisted of two directly adjoining rooms.

“It’s not very cool here, is it.”
Yuu threw his half-sick body onto the zabuton cushion before the floor.

“It’s hot today.”
“But at least we got a room.”

As Yuu changed into his yukata intending to bathe, and Aiko—following her usual practice of fearing her bobbed hairstyle would grow out—was wrapping a towel around her head in a sisterly fashion, the electric light abruptly snapped off despite there being no mountain storm.
The area fell into darkness.
Even without that, the electric lights had been generally dim.
Of course, inside the room—and even the grove of trees outside—nothing could be seen.

Relying on candlelight enveloped in steam, Yuu and Aiko briskly washed off their sweat in a narrow bathhouse that gave a mountain-country feel with its water and such.
At last, their spirits felt rejuvenated.

By dinnertime, the electricity had also returned.
Mr. M and Mr. S had also been coming here every year recently, to the extent that they had even said this summer that if by any chance he could come, they would find him a rental house.

"You should have known where Mr. M and Mr. S were staying, Aiko."

"Oh, there should have been an address note."
She was searching through her cluttered handbag for such things.

"It would be acceptable to go, but what if we called instead?"
"I wonder if that would be improper."

"There's no harm in it."
"Let's send a messenger immediately."
"And then I want to meet Y and Ms. N-ko too."

"Right."

They arranged to dispatch a messenger to Messrs. M and S.

Under normal circumstances, coming here would have meant Yuu visiting Mr. and Mrs. M without fail.
Yet Yuu sadly thought that even if they were to meet now along the way—though they wouldn't actively avoid each other—they probably wouldn't feel particularly close.
Even during the journey, he never spoke of M.
He merely recited that haiku occasionally.

After dinner, they sat on rattan chairs along the outer corridor of the main building, exposed to the night air.
Mr. M and Mr. S emerged from the dark shadows beneath the trees across the way.
At that time, Yuu and the others were strolling about the vicinity.
The garden was dark.
Through the trees, the fountain faintly glowed silver, and all that could be seen was the ember of someone’s cigarette.
The sky was overcast, and the air lacked freshness.

"Oh."

“Welcome. We’ve called for you.”

Messrs. M and S were wearing coats.

“It’s quite far.”

“Oh, it’s a bit of a distance.”
“When did you arrive?”

“A bit further ahead.
“We’re on our way back from visiting S’s relatives.”
“You’re even wearing coats, aren’t you.”

“Because we might catch a cold.”

“It’s not that cool, is it.”

The three of them went upstairs and ordered drinks.
Aiko heard from Messrs. M and S and hurriedly called Y and N-ko.

Soon, N-ko's Western-attired figure arrived there.

Yuu found his mind clouded by thoughts of Mr. M, leaving him unable to act cheerfully toward the two men, feeling almost ashamed in their presence.

“This place is nice—better than lodgings like mine. Though it’s rather expensive in return. But that inn was also quite kind and nice.”

Her life had improved. Until two or three years prior, picture postcards had kept arriving for two full years from a remote hot spring deep in the mountains. Now she had come to that ryokan with a friend of the same sex. Rumors about the people staying here began circulating.

“Everyone’s doing nicely for themselves.”

“Sensei, what if you were to come too? Someone like me wouldn’t stay in Tokyo over this place.”

Eventually, they decided to go to their room.

“How lovely!
“There are two whole rooms like this.”
N-ko said with mild surprise.

“It’s probably because they’re vacant. Isn’t this place suffering from the recession?”

Aiko ordered coffee and fruit.
Everyone went out to the corridor and sat on chairs.

“Modern life is rather troublesome, isn’t it.
You have to go to summer resorts, yet when you do go, it’s so wretched it becomes unbearable.”
N-ko said while exhaling cigarette smoke.

“It’s true. We may detest bourgeois sentiments, but being all the more sensitive to beauty, it’s not that we desire material things—we simply require a certain degree of luxury to suit our changing moods, you see.” Aiko drove the knife blade into the apple with a solid thunk.

“The hotel is somehow unpleasant, isn’t it? Not being allowed to go outside in just a yukata—if you can’t even take a summer stroll in yukata, then no matter how much time passes, this place remains foreigner-oriented through and through.” Yuu said belatedly. He had grown somewhat brighter.

“That’s not quite the case.”

“The foreigners around here seem to have some sort of superiority complex toward us Japanese, don’t they? As if declaring, ‘This is our territory.’”

“Couldn’t something be done about that?”

“There’s nothing to be done about hotels, but it’s not that such an attitude doesn’t exist at all in Karuizawa. When I was letting the child urinate, a passing Westerner—an old woman—seriously scolded me, saying one shouldn’t do such things in a place like this. After finishing, I chased after her and said in Japanese that this was our ethnic custom and I didn’t want any unnecessary interference. Though I doubt she understood a word.”

It was Mr. S who spoke.

The conversation darted in multiple directions.
From artistic criticism of young Mr. A—who had recently committed suicide—it spread to rumors about female poets visiting Karuizawa and critiques of their verses.
Among these topics arose Mrs. S’s censure of Yuu and Aiko’s relationship.

“Is A’s haiku any good?”

“It’s good.”

“I wasn’t as impressed as I’d expected.”
“Doesn’t it feel desiccated?”

“No—that’s not quite accurate.”
“Setting aside songs—regarding haiku, while I dislike men’s poetry, I also find women who compose such verses rather tedious.”
Mr. M.S said.

“Is that so? But isn’t the poetry also good?”

“I didn’t understand poetry before either, but lately that’s changed. When it comes to works by women, their verse does carry emotional depth—isn’t that so?”

Of course, Aiko too possessed her own poems.

The conversation turned to the poetry collection Mr. M.S had presented in return for the hatahata Aiko had gifted.

“Though I tell my childhood friend to come for tea... what could one discuss with a married woman? That verse about parting mementos... somehow I’ve grown fond of it.”

Being steeped in local sentiment, Yuu understood the essence of that song perfectly well.

"Since Mr. S has been building a garden in his hometown, that explains why he's grown so fond of Karuizawa."

“At one point I thought of withdrawing to my hometown and had even bought land there, but…”

“There are inexpensive villas further inland, though they’re a bit inconvenient. I was also recommended one. Because I’ve completely taken a liking to Karuizawa. I’m thinking of buying one, though. Won’t you consider buying one too, Sensei?” N-ko said.

“Is this place really that good?”

“Once you settle in, it’s quite nice.”
“What do you think, Aiko-san?”

“Me? I just arrived so I can’t say for certain yet, but the natural scenery around here that I saw from the train on the way was absolutely lovely!”
“I do think this place seems rather nice too.”

“Because there’s no sound of water.”
Yuu pointed out a flaw.

“There’s water too, you know. You should take a walk around tomorrow morning and see how nice it is. Do come join us.”

“Oh... well...”

Yuu was ill at ease.
And even after the two returned, the mood did not improve.
The next morning, he found himself thinking of perhaps going to Ikaho.

“If Aiko is here, I could stay for two or three days.”
On some impulse, he said displeasedly.

“No, that’s not the sort of thing I’m talking about.”
“If I were alone, it wouldn’t be the least bit interesting.”
“Isn’t being here with you what happiness is?”
“You know perfectly well, and yet…”

Yuu fell silent.

The next morning, Yuu went out to the veranda and gazed vacantly at the garden that held no interest for him. The lower area appeared to have been converted into a kitchen—the smell of simmering dishes drifted through the air, and a cook’s figure occasionally flickered into view near the garden’s edge. None of the crisp freshness one expects from highland plateaus could be detected anywhere. Directly below him, beneath the cherry tree, dust lay heaped in a thick mound where it had been swept together—old sandals, cardboard boxes, paper scraps, ragged cloth fragments—things of that sort... This debris had somehow begun grating unbearably on Yuu’s vision.

A woman wearing a hood, leggings, and gloves was sweeping the garden.
She would go to discard the swept dust, only to sweep it back again.
Nearly every corner had been thoroughly cleaned.
However, though she came right beneath Yuu’s gaze, she made no attempt to touch the dust that had accumulated in the cherry tree’s shade.
Didn't she notice?
Was it intentional?
Moreover, the gentleman in Western clothes making rounds had come from somewhere and was directing her.
Yet that dust did not seem to enter his eyes either.

Yuu was growing irritated.

“Why on earth aren’t they taking that dust away?”
“It’s driving me mad.”
Yuu muttered irritably.

“What’s the matter with you? How silly.”
“How silly.”
Aiko also said, but he didn’t pay it much mind.

There had been a promise, but N-ko came due to Aiko’s phone call.
They went out to the veranda and talked cheerfully.
Eventually, they went out to the dining hall.

“Won’t you join us too, Sensei?”

Yuu had no appetite.

“Looks fine.”
He said that and was lying sprawled on the tatami, but after the two left, he had the maid lay out bedding in the next room and crawled into it.
Soon he fell asleep.

How many hours had he slept?
The voices of Aiko and the others, mingled with those of Mr.M and Mr.S, reached his ears, and he awoke.

Mr.S had a worried look.

“He seems to be in poor spirits,” he had been saying to Aiko.

Yuu opened his eyes at the sound of voices.

“Earlier when they let Mr.M and Mr.S come check on you, Sensei was sleeping so soundly that they decided not to disturb you.”

“Are you feeling unwell, Sensei? That won’t do at all.”

“No—it’s nothing serious,” she replied. “It’s because there’s pus in his gums.”

“That really won’t do.”

“They’re all inviting you to join them for a walk right now,” she pressed on brightly. “Let’s go, Sensei.”

“Go ahead.”
“I’ll stay here—I think I’ll take my leave now.”

“Right.”
“That’s acceptable.”

“He’s not feeling well, is he.”

Aiko, led by N-ko, took a quick stroll around the area and left to meet at the station in time for the train.
Yuu had been invited to join them, but his emotions remained unyielding.
While feeling guilty toward everyone, he couldn't do anything about it.

Mr.M and Mr.S showed him around the town here and there as time permitted.

When they arrived at the station, N-ko and Aiko had already arrived.

The crowding of that train and the heat—!
Yuu felt so exhausted it seemed his muscles might melt into pulp.
Heat radiated from his forehead.
A sinister pain came surging from his gums across his jawbone.

Aiko was reading through the recent essay collection of his reflections that Mr.M and Mr.S had brought over earlier with their signatures inscribed.

“Sensei, Mr.M and Mr.S are praising you tremendously!
Look—take a look at this.”
Aiko opened to the critical essay titled under Yuu’s pen name and, keeping it spread open, pushed it toward him with evident delight.

“Stop it—it’s unsightly.”
Yuu frowned.

Aiko did not hear that voice.

“Look! I’m telling you to read this part here!”
With her clear, innocent eyes, she pressed it upon him again.

“Hey.”
“I said stop it!”

Yuu stubbornly pushed back against it and, keeping Aiko’s hand trapped within the book, pinned it down.

Aiko stared wide-eyed in shock.
Eventually she noticed he was angry.
He looked extremely displeased.

“You’re such a strange person.
There’s no one else like you—such a shocking egoist!
Because they had such high praise for you, I thought I’d show it to you, but you don’t understand a woman’s feelings in the slightest.”

Aiko turned pale and said.

“Stop it!”
Yuu said as if to smother.

Yuu, wondering whether Aiko might possibly get off the train at the next station, kept his distorted, hardened face turned toward the window as he stared outside.

The young man in a suit sitting nearby took out a Kodan magazine from his bag at that moment.

The ferocious heat seeped in relentlessly.

(January 1928, Chuo Koron)