Then here ends the story of a sort of literary ascetic, whose history, as one biographer puts it, is really little more than a list of the dates on which he published his stories and the names of the magazines in which they appeared. But there can be no doubt that he had more individuality than any other writer of his time and has left in Japanese literature a mass of artistic work, often grotesque and curious, that, while it undoubtedly angers the proletarian experimenters who now hold the stage and fight with lusty pens and a highly developed class consciousness against all that he stood for, will continue to live as long as men go on treasuring the fancies their fellows from time to time set down with care on paper.
The translation of _Rashōmon_ here given was first published in the English study magazine, _Eigo Seinen_, in 1920, three years after Akutagawa published the original in his first book. “Lice” was published in the same magazine in 1921. I am grateful to the magazine for permission to republish them in this volume. I am once more grateful, too, to my very sympathetic Japanese colleagues, whom I have always used freely when, from time to time, dictionaries and my own imagination have failed me. And finally I am grateful to the author, whom, though his days of seeing and hearing are over, I here address as would a Japanese: Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, at last I am publishing the book I started with your approval years ago. May you find it pleasing.
Glenn W. Shaw
Osaka, June 10, 1930.
CONTENTS
PAGE
TOBACCO AND THE DEVIL 1
THE NOSE 15
THE HANDKERCHIEF 29
RASHŌMON 45
LICE 57
THE SPIDER’S THREAD 67
THE WINE WORM 75
THE BADGER 89
THE BALL 97
THE PIPE 109
MŌRI SENSEI 123
TOBACCO AND THE DEVIL
TOBACCO did not grow in Japan in the beginning. And the records do not agree as to when it was introduced. Some put it in the Keichō Period (1596-1615) and some in the Tembun Period (1532-55). But the plant seems to have been already widely under cultivation by about the tenth year of Keichō. And in the Bunroku Period (1592-96), smoking was so widespread as to give rise to the pasquinade,
Things without effect On men are the smoking law, The counterfeit law, The imperial voice secluded And Gentaku the physician.
To the question, “By whom was tobacco introduced?” any historian would answer that it was by the Portuguese or the Spaniards. But these are not necessarily the only answers. There is, besides, one more in the form of a tradition. According to it, tobacco was brought here from somewhere by the Devil. And the Devil was brought all the way over to Japan by a Catholic Padre, perhaps St. Francis.
When I say this, Catholic believers may find fault with me for slandering their Padres. But for myself, I cannot but believe it probable. For it is most natural that when the god of the “Southern barbarians” came to us from across the sea, their devil should come with him,--that is, when the good of the West was brought in, the evil should be brought in too.
But I cannot say positively whether the Devil truly brought tobacco to this land or not. Of course, according to a book by Anatole France, the Devil once tried to tempt a certain priest with mignonette. Then surely we cannot simply say that the story that he brought tobacco into Japan is a mere lie. Even if it is a lie, it may be, in a certain sense, surprisingly near the truth. With this thought, I have decided to try writing here this tradition concerning the introduction of tobacco.
* * * * *
In the eighteenth year of Tembun, the Devil, assuming the form of a Brother in St. Francis Xavier’s company, came safely across the wide seas to Japan. He was able to change himself into this Brother because, while the genuine Brother was ashore at Amakawa or somewhere, the “black ship” which carried the party sailed away and left him behind without knowing it. Then the Devil, who had up to this time been hanging head down with his tail wrapped round a spar secretly watching what was going on in the ship, instantly took on the appearance of this man and began to wait on St. Francis constantly. Of course such a trick was nothing for him, since he was the expert who, when he called on Dr. Faust, could assume the shape of a splendid red-cloaked knight.
But when he reached Japan, he found things quite different from what he had read of them in Marco Polo’s Travels while still in the West. In the first place, in the Travels, the whole country seemed to be overflowing with gold, but look where he might, there was nothing of the kind to be seen. Then he might be able to tempt people a good deal by scratching crosses with his nail and turning them into gold. And it was said that the Japanese knew a way of raising the dead by the power of pearls or something, but this also seemed to be one of Marco Polo’s lies. If it was a lie and he should spit into all their wells and spread a plague among them, practically all men would forget the coming Paradise in their agony. Laudably following St. Francis about here and there sight-seeing, the Devil secretly thought such thoughts and smiled to himself with satisfaction.
But there was one thing that troubled him. Even he did not know what to do about that one thing. Francis Xavier having just reached Japan and it being necessary for him to preach widely before he could make any converts to Christianity, there was not a single all-important believer for him to tempt. With all his being the Devil, this perplexed him not a little. In the first place, for the time being, he did not know how to while away his tedious leisure hours.
So after considering many things, he thought he would kill some time gardening anyway, for he had been carrying various kinds of seeds in the hollow of his ear ever since his departure from the West. As for land, if he borrowed a neighboring field, he would have no trouble about that. Moreover, even St. Francis gave his hearty approval. Of course he supposed that one of the Brothers in his company was going to introduce western medicinal herbs or some such plants into Japan.
The Devil immediately borrowed a spade and a hoe and began energetically to till a roadside field.
It was just at the vapor-laden beginning of spring, and the bell of a far-off temple sent its sleepy boom through the floating mist. The sound was ever so tranquil and did not strike him on the crown of the head with the disagreeable sharp clang of the church bells of the West to which he was accustomed. But if you suppose that the Devil felt calm in these peaceful surroundings, you are quite wrong.
When he once heard the sound of this temple bell, he scowled more unhappily than he had when he heard the bell of St. Paul’s and began to dig furiously in the field. For when, bathed in the warm sunshine, he heard this calm bell, his heart was strangely relaxed. He had no more mind to work evil than to do good. At this rate, his crossing the sea on purpose to tempt the Japanese would be all in vain. The only reason the Devil, who hated work so much that he was once scolded by the sister of Ivan for having no blisters on his palms, was willing to toil away with a hoe like this was simply that he was madly determined to drive away the moral sleepiness that threatened to overcome him.
After some days the Devil at last finished his work and sowed in furrows the seeds he had in his ear.
* * * * *
During the following months, the seeds the Devil had sown sprouted and grew into high plants and, at the end of the summer, broad green leaves completely hid all the earth of the field. But there was no one who knew the name of the plants. Even when St. Francis asked him, the Devil only grinned and held his tongue, vouchsafing no reply.
Meanwhile the plants put out clusters of flowers on the ends of their stems. They were funnel-shaped and light purple. The Devil seemed to be delighted with the flowering of the plants in proportion to the trouble he had taken with them. So every day, after the morning and evening services, he always came out into the field and cultivated them devotedly.
Then one day (St. Francis had gone off on a preaching tour for several days and was absent) a cattle dealer passed by the field leading a yellow cow. There across the fence in the field full of purple flowers stood a southern barbarian Brother in his black priest’s robe and broad-brimmed hat busily picking worms off the leaves. The flowers were so curious that the cattle dealer involuntarily stopped, took off his mushroom hat and called to the Brother politely,
“I say, holy one, what are those flowers?”
The Brother looked round. He had a flat nose and small eyes and was an altogether good-natured looking “red-head.”
“These?”
“Yes.”
The “red-head,” leaning on the fence, shook his head. Then he said in awkward Japanese,