Read Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories Online
Authors: Ryunosuke Akutagawa
Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories (2 page)
1899 Begins receiving private tutoring in English, Chinese, and calligraphy.
1901 Writes first haiku, and begins reading contemporary Japanese literature.
1902 With school friends, begins circulating literary magazine, contributing both text and art. Similar activity continues into university. Mother dies.
1904 Formal adoption into Akutagawa family becomes final. Father and aunt Fuyu legalize their relationship.
1904â5 Russo-Japanese War.
1905 Enters middle school at usual age, although qualified a year earlier, but delayed by health problems and adoption difficulties. Outstanding in all subjects, especially Chinese. Active in j
Å«
d
Å
and other physical training, unlike future fictional alter ego Daid
Å
ji Shinsuke. Japan wins Russo-Japanese War (1904â5): first victory over Caucasian nation raises widespread interest in translation of recent and contemporary Western literature.
1907 Begins reading English books beyond class requirements, and English becomes his primary portal for world literature.
1910 Enters elite First Higher School without examination, owing to superior record. Right-wing government crushes leftist political and literary activity. “Winter years” of socialism continue for a decade.
1912 Meiji emperor dies; Taish
Å
Period begins.
1913 Enters Tokyo Imperial University, the pinnacle of the educational system; majors in English literature.
1914 With classmates, founds student literary magazine, publishes his first story in May, “R
Å
nen” (“Old Age”; no English translation). Akutagawa family moves to newly constructed house in north suburban Tabata, where he will spend most of his life. Neighborhood doctor, Shimojima Isaoshi (1870â1947), becomes his physician and friend.
1915 Fifth story, “Rash
Å
mon,” published in university faculty's intellectual journal, but is generally ignored. Pays first visit to the novelist Natsume S
Å
seki (1867â1916) at home, and becomes one of S
Å
seki's
2
“disciples.”
1916 “The Nose” published in student magazine; lavishly praised by S
Å
seki and receives other attention. Graduates from Tokyo Imperial University with a thesis on William Morris. “Yam Gruel” is his first story in a commercial magazine; more invitations follow. Begins teaching at Naval Engineering School (see “
The Writer's Craft
”), living in Kamakura, a seaside town south of Tokyo. S
Å
seki dies.
1917 “Dr. Ogata Ry
Å
sai: Memorandum” and “Loyalty” published. First anthology,
Rash
Å
mon
, appears from small publisher. Commercial literary magazines eager to print his stories. Second anthology,
Tobacco and the Devil
, published by major company.
1918 Marries Tsukamoto Fumi (1900â1968), and they move to new lodgings in Kamakura with aunt Fuki; tranquil time after Fuki returns to Tokyo. “The Story of a Head That Fell Off” and “The Spider Thread” published. “Hell Screen” serialized in two newspapers simultaneously. Severely stricken in Spanish flu epidemic.
1919 Experiences second attack of Spanish flu, and father dies from it. Resigns teaching post and signs exclusive agreement with
Osaka Mainichi Shinbun
newspaper. Moves back with Fumi to live with adoptive parents and aunt Fuki, and never again establishes separate household. Extended family increasingly rely on his income. “Dragon: The Old Potter's Tale” published. Travels to Nagasaki, and steeps himself in exotic culture of seventeenth-century Japanese Christian martyrdom; meets chief psychiatrist of Nagasaki Prefectural Hospital, poet Sait
Å
Mokichi (1882â1953), who will later
supply him with barbiturates for insomnia. Meets popular poet Hide Shigeko (1890â1973), who is married with one son, and begins painful affair with this “crazy girl” (“The Life of a Stupid Man,” Section 21).
1920 Five stories (including “Green Onions”) and seven nonfiction pieces published simultaneously in various major New Year publications as editors clamor for his work. Birth of first son, Hiroshi.
1921 January: Hide Shigeko gives birth to son, and tells Akutagawa the child is his. March: Partly to escape her, he leaves for China for nearly four months as special correspondent for
Osaka Mainichi Shinbun
. Dry pleurisy and other ills leave him weakened thereafter.
1922 “In a Bamboo Grove” and three other stories appear in New Year issues of major magazines, but autobiographical writing increases as historical fiction is less well received. Second trip to Nagasaki; buys Edo Period “secret Christian” image of Maria-Kannon. First of the fictional alter ego Yasukichi stories and “O-Gin” published. Birth of second son, Takashi. Health dramatically worse; with desire to write fading, declines all invitations for New Year issue stories.
1923 June: Infant Takashi hospitalized for more than ten days. “The Baby's Sickness” published in August. 1 September: Great Kant
Å
Earthquake strikes at 11: 58 a.m., followed by fires; over 100, 000 killed. Tabata house loses a few roof tiles and stone lantern, but houses of his half-brother and his sister burn down. No injuries to relatives, but caring for them a great financial burden. Observes death and devastation, writes scathing critiques of “upright citizens” of Tokyo who took the occasion to commit mob violence against local Koreans with Police Bureau encouragement. Much editing of English and contemporary Japanese literary collections.
1924 Few new stories this year; much editing, reading up on socialism, but his name is still big enough for a major publisher to begin a new series of contemporary literature with a volume of his works. Sixth Yasukichi story, “The Writer's Craft,” published. Near-affair with Katayama Hiroko (“Life,” Section 37).
1925 Physical ills, insomnia. “Daid
Å
ji Shinsuke: The Early Years” and “Horse Legs” published in New Year issues of major magazines. Birth of third son, Yasushi. Publication of five-volume collection of contemporary Japanese literature which he has devoted much energy to editing since 1923; sales are poor, he earns little and is widely criticized by other writers for copyright problems. Insomnia, nervous exhaustion, and heavy responsibilities as head of the household.
1926 Close reading of Bible, but unable to believe in divine miracles. To Kugenuma seashore, south of Tokyo, with Fumi and infant Yasushi, leaving older boys with his family. Marriage “renewed,” but physical and mental ills worsen as use of barbiturates increases. October: “Death Register” published, containing his first public revelation of his mother's insanity; negative review by novelist Tokuda Sh
Å«
sei (1871â1943) is a shock. Taish
Å
emperor dies; Sh
Å
wa Period begins.
1927 4 January: Sister's house partially burns; two days later, her husband, who is suspected of arson, throws himself under a train. Despite illness, Akutagawa forces himself to deal with the complications.
JanuaryâApril: Several extended writing sessions in Imperial Hotel; writes “Kappa.”
AprilâAugust: Essay series “Literary, All Too Literary” published, containing his side of famous debate with Tanizaki Jun'ichir
Å
(1886â1965) on the importance of plot in fiction, and repudiating the artificiality of own earlier work.
7 April: Proposes “Platonic double suicide” to Hiramatsu Masuko (1898â1953), the unmarried, lifelong friend of wife Fumi (“Life,” Sections 47â8). She informs Fumi and artist friend Oana Ry
Å«
ichi (1894â1966), who force him to give up the idea.
16 April: Writes first of several “last testaments,” and begins meeting with friends, though only he knows these are final farewells.
June: Worried about mental illness of writer-friend Uno K
Å
ji (1891â1961), arranges for his involuntary hospitalization through Sait
Å
(“Life,” Section 50).
23 July: Cheerful lunch with Fumi and three sons, and
socializes with visitors. At night, finishes aphoristic manuscript on Christ as a poet who had profound insight into all human beings but himself.
24 July: At 1:00 a.m. gives aunt Fuki a poem for Dr. Shimojima entitled “Self-Mockery” with reference to “The Nose”: “Oh dripping snot! / The nose-tip all that's still in view / As darkness falls.”
2:00 a.m. Comes down from study, crawls into futon in room where Fumi and three sons are sleeping; has probably already taken his fatal dose of Veronal. Falls asleep reading the Bible; leaves testaments addressed to wife and old friends by pillow.
6:00 a.m. Fumi realizes something is wrong, and notifies Oana and Dr. Shimojima; Akutagawa is pronounced dead shortly after 7:00 a.m. Poet and old friend Kume Masao (1891â1952) releases Akutagawa's most famous last testament, “A Note to a Certain Old Friend,” to the press that day. The suicide becomes a sensation in the news, seen as a symbol of the defeat of bourgeois modernism at the hands of both socialism and rising state power.
“Spinning Gears” and “The Life of a Stupid Man” published posthumously.
Akutagawa's cremated remains are interred at Tokyo's Jigenji Temple. The plot later receives ashes of adoptive parents, aunt Fuki, son Takashi (d. 1945, student draftee killed in Burma), wife, and actor and director son Hiroshi (d. 1981). Composer son Yasushi (d. 1989) in his own separate family plot in the cemetery.
Literary friend and publisher Kikuchi Kan (1888â1948) establishes biannual Akutagawa Prize in 1935 to memorialize Akutagawa and promote Kikuchi's magazine
Bungei Shunj
Å«
. The prize remains the most sought-after seal of approval for upcoming writers in Japan.
1
. On Japanese era names, see the article “neng
Å
” in
Japan: An Illustrated Encyclopedia
, 2 vols. (Tokyo: Kodansha Ltd., 1993), 2:1073.
2
. Like the haiku poet Bash
Å
, Natsume S
Å
seki is known by his literary sobriquet “S
Å
seki,” rather than his family name.
Akutagawa Ry
Å«
nosuke: Downfall of the Chosen
In Japan, Akutagawa Ry
Å«
nosuke is a writer of genuinely national stature. If a poll were taken to choose the ten most important “Japanese national writers” since the advent of the modern period in 1868, Akutagawa would undoubtedly be one of them. He might even squeeze in among the top five.
1
But what, in the most concrete terms, is a “writer of national stature” in Japan?
Such a writer would necessarily have left us works of the first rank that vividly reflect the mentality of the Japanese people of his or her age. This is the most essential point. Of course the works themselvesâor at least the writer's most representative worksâmust not only be exceptional, they must have the depth and power to survive at least a quarter century after the writer's death.
The second important point would be that the writer's character or life should have inspired widespread respect or strong sympathy. Not that the author would have to be a person of high moral character; some exceptional writers (I will not name them here) have had questions raised about aspects of their private lives. But to be of national stature, they would have garnered the approval and sense of identification of many people with regard to their principled devotion to literature and general world view. The important thing is whether each of them as an individual human being embraced an awareness of the great questions of the age, accepted his or her social responsibility as an artist on the front line, and made an honest effort to shape his or her life accordingly.
One more pointâand this should be the lastâis that a writer
of national stature should have given us not only solid classics but popular works that appeal to a broad audienceâand to young people in particular: works easy enough to read that they appear in the nation's primary and middle-school textbooks and can be memorized whole by most children. Nat sume S
Å
seki's
Botchan
(1906),
2
for example, is read by virtually everyone in Japan who receives a middle-school education.
Botchan
is hardly S
Å
seki's most representative work, but it is a uniquely enjoyable, easy-to-read short novel. Much the same can be said for Shiga Naoya's innocent allegorical story, “The Shopboy's God” (1920) and Kawabata Yasunari's refreshing novella of youth, “The Dancing Girl of Izu” (1926).
3
Shimazaki T
Å
son produced not only ponderous long novels but also spontaneous and moving lyrical poems in the traditional
tanka
form.
4
Mori
Å
gai is most respected for his scholarly historical novels, but he also wrote the love story “The Dancing Girl” (1890) in remarkably beautiful language, and “Sansh
Å
the Steward” (1915)
5
is his rewrite of a medieval tale for a modern young audience. The number of readers who have made it all the way through Tanizaki Jun'ichir
Å
's long novel
The Makioka Sisters
(1946â8)
6
may not be very large, but the work has been filmed several times with some of the most beautiful actresses of their generations in the roles of the four lovely sisters, leaving vivid images in the memories of thousands of viewers. In other words, like spring rain, these works in easily accessible forms have seeped silently into the fertile soil of people's minds to form something like the foundation of the culture or sensibility of the Japanese.
Surely in all nations, in all cultures, there exists this kind of basic cultural realm that functions almost subliminally. England has Dickens and Shakespeare, and the United States Melville and Fitzgerald among others. The French have Balzac and Flaubert. The works of these “national writers” are imprinted in the hearts and minds of each individual citizen during youth in forms that take on a nearly absolute authority, and, before anyone is aware of it, they go on to comprise a common perception of literature and culture in the regionâi.e. a common identity.
These works are handed down from teacher to pupil, from parent to child, almost without question, like DNA. They are memorized, recited, discussed in book reports, included in university entrance exams, and once the student is grown up, they become a source for quotation. They are made into movies again and again, they are parodied, and inevitably they become the object of ambitious young writers” revolt and contempt. Finally, each becomes an autonomous sign or symbol or metaphor that functions much like the national flag or the national anthem or one of the country's primary landscapes (say, in the case of Japan, Mt. Fuji or cherry blossoms). And of course, for better or worse, each becomes an indispensable part of our culture. For without the creation of such archetypesâwithout such subliminal imprintingâit is almost impossible for us to possess a common cultural awareness.
