The Miner - by Natsume Sōseki republished

Recently received an email from Aardvark Bureau/Gallic Books highlighting the great news that they're republishing The Miner by Natusme Soseki, translated by Jay Rubin, this new edition also features a 5000 word introduction by Haruki Murakami entitled A Nonchalant Journey Through Hell, some more details are here, it's great that this novel is being brought back into wider circulation and renewed readership, my post on the older edition of The Miner can be found here, some more information from the publishers -

The Miner

Natsume Sōseki

Translated by Jay Rubin, and with an introduction from Haruki Murakami, this is bound to appeal to fans of Japanese literature.

‘It makes me very happy to know that even now I can read this novel written over a hundred years ago as if it were a contemporary account and be deeply affected by it. It cannot, and should not be overlooked. It is one of my favourites.’ from the introduction by Haruki Murakami

The Miner is the most daringly experimental and least well-known novel of the great Meiji writer Natsume Sōseki. An absurdist tale about the indeterminate nature of human personality, written in 1908, it was in many ways a precursor to the work of Joyce and Beckett.

The narrative unfolds within the mind of an unnamed protagonist-narrator, a young man caught in a love triangle who flees Tokyo, is picked up by a procurer of cheap labour for a copper mine, then travels toward and inside the depths of the mine, in search of oblivion. As he delves, the young man reflects at length on nearly every thought and perception he experiences along the way. His conclusion? That there is no such thing as human character. The result is a novel that is both absurd and comical, and a true modernist classic.

5 Facts About Natsume Sōseki

He features on the Japanese 1000 yen note.

He lived in London from 1901-1903.

He hated almost every minute of his stay.

There is a Sōseki museum opposite one of his homes in Clapham.

The characters Kafka and Oshima discuss The Miner in Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore.

http://aardvarkbureau.com/

The Miner - Natsume Sōseki

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

Kōfu/The Miner first appeared in serialization in 1908 in the pages of the Asahi Shimbun, the narration is from a nineteen year old youth who after being caught between two women, Tsuyako and Sumie, finds himself wandering out of Tokyo through a forest of endless pine trees with the looming intention of throwing himself into a crater at Mt. Asama, or alternatively off Kegon Falls, in his afterword Jay Rubin mentions of the true character whose story Sōseki used as source material for aspects of the book, reading this is in some ways to be reminded of Kusamakura and of Fujimura Misao, finishing The Miner reiterates the hope for an explorative biography of Sōseki which would shed further insights into the stories behind his novels. In some descriptions of The Miner the book has been described as a precursor to Beckett and Joyce including sections which incorporate a stream of conscious style, this is probably mostly evident in the first two thirds of the book, although the reflective nature of the narrator's thoughts are never distant from the course of his describing the unfolding events of the novel, some of these reflections concern his evolving consciousness of his place in society, or more broadly the nature and follies of man, many of these instances of reflection here project over a number of pages and are prompted in a number of differing ways and scenarios, the line of a mountain that dissolves and blurs with that of the sky, the narrator observes that he finds himself in an 'out of focus world', a moment disembarking from a train, another theme that appears in the novel, reiterated by the narrator is the notion of the undefinable character of man and of the concluding observation that there is nothing more unreliable than man.

In some ways it feels that The Miner could be in part a bildungsroman due to the young age of the narrator, there is a sense we're sharing his rite of passage, early in the novel he reveals the fact that his period at the mine was only temporary, so the narrative comes partially from a perspective of hindsight, another aspect that remains slightly obscure is the nature and true scenario of his problem with the two women, Tsuyako and Sumie, it feels very much that perhaps he is the guilty party. In his afterword Jay Rubin observes that there were two Sōseki's, one humorous, the other an intellectual tragedian, and there is a little of both to be found in The Miner, perhaps more of the latter with an added percentage of being of a philosophical and sociological enquiry, with an emphasis on the absurd, it feels a little incredulous to contemplate that this translation has just passed being over a quarter of century old, there is the inclusion of phrases like; highfalutin, and in another scene where the boss of the mine, Mr Hara, instructs the narrator's guide, Hatsu, when after returning with the narrator from a tour of the dark depths of the mine, to sit down and 'take a load off', it feels slightly difficult to reconcile these phrases to a novel from 1908, Rubin's afterword and notes throughout the text remain greatly enlightening and informative.

It's tempting to read The Miner with the idea that  Sōseki is using the mine as a metaphor as the narrator explores his thoughts about the meaning of his existence and future, it feels like we are briefly visiting a darker or baser denizen of humanity amongst the squalid conditions and ways of the miners, another aspect is of the narrator's metropolitan background experiencing for the first time the provincial life, in some ways this is a common scenario that appears in a number of other of Sōseki's novels, of the main character or protagonist relating their experiences when travelling to a new location or surrounding, it occurs in Botchan and also in Sanshiro. Reading The Miner is to be reminded that although there are a number of similar themes usually running through Sōseki's novels, the narrative styles used in his novels are markedly different, in his introduction to Light and Dark John Nathan observes of the scale of interiority that the novel incorporates, but there remains a feeling that in The Miner that this is more so, it feels that The Miner is more allegorical than metaphor in parts it feels like it could be veering into a Kafkaesque landscape, the mine, it appears could be viewed as Sōseki's Vor dem Gesetz/Before the Law, the narrator can't move forward until he has journeyed through the darkness of the mine, there is a hybrid of different motives to his narrative, a sense that the narrator is assuaging his guilt and of his on going interpretation of the nature of the world at large, but the novel offers no redemptive quality, the narrator does not turn to the mine as an alternative to suicide, it's not until he encounters an older miner in the darkness, Yasu, when he becomes lost after Hatsu, his guide, scurries away from him that his thoughts begin to formulate into a concrete coherent course of action. In Yasu, the narrator sees a projected mirror image of himself older, one learnt from experience, Yasu too had come from a comfortable and educated Tokyo family and with a crime in his past a feeling that he is unable to leave the mine and the fate he has chosen, the narrator contemplates Yasu and the possibility of his sacrificed future in the outside world - 'Had society killed Yasu, or had Yasu done something that society could not forgive?'. Yasu offers to pay the narrator's return fare to Tokyo, but the narrator is reprieved from working in the depths of the mine due to a slight of fate, already we know from earlier in the novel that he won't spend the rest of his days at the mine, reading Sōseki often feels like experiencing the narrative unroll perhaps as in a modern emakimono.

Another more experimental aspect of this novel which surfaces from time to time is the narrator's scepticism of the literary worthiness of the events occurring in the novel, this also overspills in relating aspects of the literary worthiness of his own character and actions, and by turns in an equal number of places he expresses his scepticism with learned academia, which he often sees as expressing itself with a lot of 'hot air', was this perhaps included in reaction to the disdain Sōseki received after choosing to give up his university post and write for the Asahi?. In some ways it's none too surprising to see how The Miner is one of Murakami Haruki's favourite novels, as literary worthiness, (or junbungaku-ness?), appears to be a bone of contention that many critics often level with Murakami's writing, much of Rubin's afterword is taken up discussing the criticism levelled at Sōseki's writings at the time of their appearance. As 2016 and then 2017 approaches no doubt hopefully this will see an increase of interest in Sōseki, perhaps this too will also see an increase with the availability of all of his works.

  

Light and Dark: A Novel



Light and Dark is a novel to be best read with the phone off the hook and the internet left unconnected, in this new translation by John Nathan it comes in a page shy of 420, originally published in 188 instalments in 1916 of the Tokyo and Osaka editions of the Asahi Shinbun,  Sōseki passed away before being able to finish it, although on his desk was left the blank paper with the number for instalment number 189 written in and waiting to be filled. As with all unfinished novels the mystery hangs over what was meant to be, reading the book feels slightly akin of finding oneself within a confined space but with the added dimension of the door being left open at one end. John Nathan in his introduction points out that in it's incompleteness it is complete, everything we need to know is there in what we have, perhaps it brings to mind the conundrum that faces all artists of when is their painting actually complete?. Perhaps it could also be said that with Light and Dark you could approach a reading of it with these two perspectives in mind, one of it being presented as a novel and secondly of the original appearing in instalments, of the events arriving sequentially. Columbia University Press have presented a fantastically produced edition of the book with the original illustrations from Natori Shunsen, a master of yakusha-e, heading each of the numbered instalments and when slipping the book's jacket off, the hardcover comes with an illustrated embossed cover and the page cut comes deckle edged, it's a handsomely produced edition to behold.

At the centre of Light and Dark is Tsuda and O'Nobu, newly wedded, Tsuda being slightly the eldest, they are still dependant financially on monthly contributions from Tsuda's father in Kyoto, which at the beginning of the novel begins to cease being paid, perhaps this is a possible punishment for past deeds?. Reading Light and Dark is no small commitment on the reader's behalf, it is a substantial read, being more lengthy than I Am A Cat, whilst reading invariably the mind turns to contemplate Sōseki writing it in his state of deteriorating health and of also noting at the same time some aspects and familiar motifs associated with the author that occur within the text, in one scene a visit to London is recalled,and dotted through the book are occasional references to Chinese poetry and proverbs, in another brief and fleeting scene the ethics of Naturalism are shown to be ineffectual, added to this Tsuda suffers from stomach lesions for which he his operated upon. Much of the drama of the novel is mainly passed through few characters, the character that appears to receive most of the attention and study is Tsuda who spends most of the novel recuperating from his operation, whilst in bed he receives visits from among others Kobayashi, who is imminently departing for Korea, Kobayashi is a man, although they may have shared a friendship in the past, is in ways the antithesis of Tsuda, towards the end of the book there is a showdown between the two where the men vent their scorn toward each other and their different senses of morality, throughout the book Kobayashi has held the upper hand to Tsuda's assumed respectability as he knows an episode from Tsuda's past which he threatens to relate to O'Nobu, it comes down to a question of money, where again Kobayashi is again unable to resist from exacerbating and demonstrating Tsuda's moral bereftness, it could be said that Kobayashi is testing out elements of the moral pretensions of the day, it's left to us whose right holds out. Throughout the book the reader's sense of empathy shifts between Tsuda and O'Nobu, (as it does more subtly between Tsuda and Kobayashi), a subplot earlier in the book is the possibility of a miai in the family and this provokes O'Nobu to revaluate her marriage compatibility with Tsuda, who by turns we get the impression has had his hand slightly forced into the marriage, the interplay of these considerations on their parts it could be said is back dropped by the world of stifled conventions that have no interest in real or true desires.

Across its panoramic vision it could be said that Light and Dark is a novel of varying contrasts, the title is one that rather being represented in any one scene, (among these ones which we are left with), but one that is hinted to in a number of scenes of one being thematic, throughout these we're reminded of Sōseki's interest in Buddhist thinking and of life's continual dualism, as seen in Uncle Fujii's theories on male and female relationships, in which moments of enlightenment are reached and constitute a larger circle of harmony then disharmony, rather pointedly O'Nobu criticizes Fujii by admonishing him, 'You're so long winded Uncle'. The secret in Tsuda's past withheld from O'Nobu is also something described as being something kept in the dark, these contrasts can also be seen when Madam Yoshikawa visits Tsuda and discussing Kiyoko-san she asks him 'I imagine you still have feelings for Kiyoko-san?', he replies with 'Do I appear to have feelings?' Madam Yoshikawa replies with, 'For just that reason. Because they don't appear'. Reading Sōseki there's always a sense of drifting between worlds, Meiji into Taisho, which also enables to step out and transcend the age of their setting. An aspect that imbues his work is a sense of the organic that filters through, there's  almost an utter lack of pretension in his characters which impresses them and their predicaments into the reader's sphere of empathy, and although he was tackling contemporary issues of his day there's a feeling in his writing that despite all being impermanent he sees things from the fixed point of the heart, through all it's wanderings, be they through the labyrinth of corridors of a distant onsen, of the opposing predicaments of love and then to end on the enigma of a smile.



Light and Dark at Columbia University Press     

 

Botchan



In a translation by J.Cohn, Botchan, is the fourth title by Natsume Sōseki to be published by Penguin Classics, previous titles have included; Sanshiro, translated by Jay Rubin, Kusamakura and Sanshiro, both translated by Meredith McKinney. Botchan first appeared in 1906 the same year that Natsume produced Kusamakura and also Shumi no Iden, (translated as The Heredity of Taste), in some aspects the perspective of the narrative of Botchan  resembles that of I Am a Cat, where the view is that from an outsider, in I Am a Cat we see the drama unfold from the cat's perspective, in Botchan the perspective is seen from Botchan, a Tokyoite, and considered Edokko, who takes a teaching post in a remote town in Shikoku. His honorific name mixed with a term of endearment is given to him from the family maid, Kiyo,  throughout the novel we never learn Botchan's true name, although we do learn something, in slightly comical style, of his genealogy. The novel opens with a telling of the events of his parents deaths, and then the dissolution of the family home as his brother leaves to pursue business leaving Botchan some money to do what he wants with, Botchan uses it to study. The story is one dotted with a farcical humour through various episodes and scenes, the grasshoppers, the fishing trip, (where we are first introduced to the slightly enigmatic character referred to as the 'madonna'), the fight scene between the rival schools, although the full realization of the humour it could be said is saved for the climax of the novel. Botchan is a fantastic and bewildering character, and probably one of Natsume's most iconic, forthrightly clinging and pursuing to the truth as he sees it, (and by turns we see it), he also points to a certain reckless spirit as a family trait. Although through the focus of the narrative our empathy falls with Botchan, we find that in the wake of his story his actions have thrown up many questions which at the time of it's publication must have resonated with the reader leaving them to reconsider notions of the traditional, and in a way give form to what or how things maybe in the future, although Botchan remains a mixture of both the old and new, perhaps Botchan and his nature could be seen to form a middle ground that pushes both temporarily aside.

After graduating, Botchan takes up a post in Shikoku as a maths teacher, the first gist of the petty bureaucracy of the place can be seen when the principal hands him his certificate of appointment which he then makes Botchan present to each of the other teachers in turn when introduced, it doesn't take long for Botchan to rename all of the teachers with nicknames, Redshirt, Hanger On, Porcupine, Pale Squash. The novel is almost ambidextrous in the way it manages to shift between humorous anecdote and moral observation, Botchan's pursuit of the moral seems to begin and end with appearances to the degree that in the end when an act of  subterfuge by the principal is discovered we begin to get the fuller impression. Another prevalent aspect to the novel is that of the meeting between the metropolitan and the provincial, with Botchan coming from Tokyo we perceive the characters from his outsider's point of view, as the drama progresses we get the impression that both sides exhibit a certain stand off-ish indifference to each other, Botchan is regarded as being the outsider which adds to his frustrated exasperation in turn fueling his animosity, a sense that Botchan is in far off territory is seen through his letters to Kiyo back in Tokyo. The behaviour of his first landlord also adds to his bewildered impression of the nature of the local people As is with Natsume's prose in translation it can at times feel acutely compacted, Botchan's narrative is wholly absorbing, occasionally the external world is referenced in snap shot, a near naked boatman clothed only in a red loincloth/fundoshi, and when stepping out at night he sees, 'the milky way streaming across the sky overhead', in these little instances we again realize that Natsume's novels have a poetical dimension.  Much has been written about the nature in some of his scenes between some of the male interactions that appear in Natsume's novels, another scene here sees Botchan squeezingly test the muscles of one of his colleagues.

Towards the ending of the novel the external world begins to infringe to a greater degree when Botchan witnesses the war victory celebrations, dazzled by the patriotic fervour and fireworks, Botchan's attention is caught by the swordsman's display, his concern is focused on the dangerous sharpness of their blades. Botchan is a curious novel which can be appreciated in many ways, there are so many subtle portraits and scenes in it which encapsulate a portrait of the shifting Meiji zeitgeist between the old and new, and the emergence of the influences of the West. Natsume's versatility is awe inspiring, reading Botchan is a unique experience, there is also the aspect that Natsume drew on his own experiences in writing it, the onsen that Botchan visits, (Dōgo Onsen) is the same one that Soseki used, and also the inclusion of Iyo dialect, an example of which Cohn has left in his translation.

Many thanks to Penguin for providing a preview copy.

Botchan at Penguin Classics

Natsume Soseki at Wikipedia

Japanese Literature Challenge 6

And Then by Natsume Soseki

Two writers whose works I want to read more of are Natsume Soseki and Abe Kobo, I thought I'd try to make up my reading of their novels this year but as we head into the second half of it I'm beginning to think that maybe my aim won't be fulfilled. It's good to learn though that Tuttle are reissuing And Then/Sorekara next month, the translation I think is the same one published here by Louisiana State University Press by Norma Moore Field, I remember reading Oe's essay in Japan the Ambigious and Myself , (Kodansha 1995),where he discusses the novel and have been meaning to read it ever since, Oe talks about the novel in his essay about the modern Japanese novel in relation to the modernization of Japan. Reading Natsume made me think about his time spent in London, (1901-1903), which led me to think of another English novel which in some ways shares some of it's themes, The Whirlpool, by George Gissing which was published  in 1897 has at it's centre a character unable to cope with the machinations of a society facing rapid modernisation, the character unable to keep pace and adapt to these changes has a tragic ending.

 

In And Then it's focus is the rapid modernization of Japan after the Meiji Restoration, the central character, Daisuke, in some ways is in a similar predicament to the character in The Whirlpool, unable to commit himself to the social mores occurring around him. Daisuke is from a family whose father has done well in the newly expanding economy, Daisuke's brothers all appear to be following productive industrial lives, Daisuke is not so committed in pursuing this path. He leads a  comfortable life, his father is happy to continue paying his allowance, although aged thirty Daisuke is still unmarried,  many potential brides have been suggested for him, but he has managed to fend off these arranged marriages. When his father, was young, he and his brother, (Daisuke's uncle), got involved with a brawl that turned nasty, it was still in the era of the samurai code, this world to Daisuke appears very distant from his, when he hears these stories from his father's and grandfather's past instead of having feelings of admiration, feelings of terror threaten to overwhelm him whenever he hears of the spilling of blood, through the implications of this brawl another potential bride is lined up for him. He reads Leonid Andreyev and contemplates how he might feel if faced with his own end. Daisuke at first appears far from being a victim, his perspective is one that sees through the veneer of the actions of those around him, seeing that the pursuit of financial gain or social advancement is not the be all and end all of his existence. An antithetical character to Daisuke's is introduced at the start of the novel, his friend Hiraoka who had moved to Kansai because of his work, only having to resign and return to Tokyo due to a subordinate embezzling company money, seems to cajole Daisuke about his lack of application to the outside world. It could be said though that Hiraoka's failure at succeeding in this new world reconfirms Daisuke's assertions about the new way of things.

As the novel progresses Daisuke's disliking of the modern world becomes more prevalent, and the pressure from his family to marry increases, almost to the point of entrapment in one scene, the only woman that Daisuke seems to have emerging feelings for is Hiraoka's wife Michiyo who he had known before she and Hiraoka had married, at times she appears unhappy being with Hiraoka. Daisuke feeling duty bound to his friend arranges to help Hiraoka pay off a pressing debt, and this brings him into closer contact with Michiyo. Throughout  the novel little instances appear that remind Daisuke of the dangers of actively participating in society, a letter from a friend who he had gone to university with arrives telling him of his married life and the child he has, Daisuke had used to send him books which the friend would discuss at length in his letters, as the correspondence continues the friend no longer mentions even the fact that he receives the books, this acts as a stark reminder to Daisuke. Daisuke is caught between following his duty to his family with that of following his heart, but he finds that in choosing this option he will begin to pull at the building blocks of society, Daisuke's predicament seems to see Natsume questioning just how much people were prepared to let go of the old order of things and examines how much of the new they were willing to embrace. I'm not sure which of Natsume's novels to turn to next, I feel as though I should continue with another from the trilogy, although The Miner/Kofu looks like an interesting novel, as does the unfinished novel; Light and Darkness/Meian. And Now/Sorekara comes with an excellent afterword from translator Norma Moore Field placing the novel in bibliographical and biographical context. The narrative of And Then has probably one of the most rational tones that I've found in a novel in a long while, and has a Janus like quality to it, this pivotal moment in history is represented well in the novel's opening scene when Daisuke half asleep notices the flower head of a Camellia has fallen off during the night, the sound of it hitting the floor reverberates around his waking consciousness, as a calmative he places his hand on his chest over his heart to reassuringly check his pulse is beating steadily.

Kokoro by Natsume Sōseki

Finishing Kokoro my thoughts move on to which of Natsume's novels to read next, Natsume's prose in Kokoro is near to faultless, it's difficult to think of a book to follow it. The new edition of Sanshiro seems like it would be a good choice. Previous to reading Kokoro, the only other of Natsume's books I had read was Grass on the Wayside/Michikusa, and that was quite a few years ago. I read Edwin McCellan's translation of Kokoro from the Regnery/Gateway Edition , a new translation is on the way from Penguin, translated by Meredith McKinney, Penguin have also recently published Sanshiro and Kusamakura , which has previously been translated as The Three-Cornered World, so maybe some of the other novels will appear in new translations. First serialised in the Asahi Shinbun in 1914, Kokoro is told in three parts, written two years before Natsume's death it was his last completed full novel, Light and Darkness/Meian, was left unfinished. In some ways the first part of the novel reminded me of Stefan Zweig's novel Confusion, another novel that stems from the student/teacher relationship. Three historic events mentioned in the novel being the suicide of Nogi Maresuke (General Nogi in the novel), his involvement in the Satsuma Rebellion and also the death of the Meiji Emperor in 1912, which ended the Meiji Era, find reflection in the lives of the characters in the novel. The sensei of the novel is very much a man of this time, his letter to the young student, which almost reads as a novel within a novel, taking up the last third of the book reiterates not only the generation gap between himself and the student, but also illustrates the shifts of social behaviour that was taking place in Japan at that time. A period of great change, one that would reshape Japan. The student and sensei's story, set against the events of the end of Meiji, give the whole novel a valedictory tone.

Beginning with the young student recalling how he first met sensei at the beach at Kamakura, he learns that the enigmatic sensei visits a grave every month at Zoshigaya. 'I could not have known that there had been in sensei's life a frightening tragedy,inseparable from his love for his wife', he observes. The closer he seems to get to sensei the more his misanthropic and reclusive ways become apparent to him, the older man's wisdom seems to be a great source of vexation for the younger man, 'Don't put too much trust in me,you'll learn to regret it if you do. And if you ever allow yourself to feel betrayed you will find yourself being cruelly vindictive.' Talking with sensei's wife he tries to learn the source of why sensei is the way he is, she tells him that in his youth sensei had a friend who died suddenly, an unnatural death, but she can say no more, she feels that she maybe the source of his unhappiness, but the truth of what the secret is in sensei's past remains elusive to them both it seems. Natsume's prose captures all the subtleties of the young student's fascination with sensei, and sensei's growing openness toward the student. The student's father suffers from a kidney disease,which the family fear will prove fatal, and he's called back to the family home to help look after his father, his father at first doesn't appear too ill, and for a while concerns over the students future job prospects seem to be the main concern, and after telling his parents about sensei, his mother encourages him to write to sensei seeking his assistance in finding him a position. Whilst waiting for a reply his father's condition takes a change for the worse. As his father deteriorates, his anxiety over sensei heightens when he receives a thick letter from sensei, he reads the line, 'By the time this letter reaches you, I shall probably have left this world-I shall in all likelihood be dead', the second part of the novel ends with the student torn between leaving his dying father, and rushing back to Tokyo to see if he can stop sensei from his suicide.

The third part of the novel is the story of sensei's secret told in the letter, he recounts his student days and of the character that he refers only to as K, but that you'll have to discover yourself. Kokoro was adapted into a film by Kon Ichikawa in 1955, and again by Kaneto Shindo in 1973.