Season of Violence Read online

  LIBRARY OF JAPANESE LITERATURE

  SEASON OF VIOLENCE

  and Other Stories

  Representatives

  For Continental Europe:

  BOXERBOOKS, INC., Zurich

  For the British Isles'.

  PRENTICE-HALL INTERNATIONAL, INC., London

  For Australasia:

  PAUL FLESCH & CO., PTY. LTD., Melbourne

  Published by Charles E. Tuttle Co., Inc.

  of Rutland, Vermont

  and Tokyo, Japan

  with editorial offices at

  Osaki Shinagawa-ku, Tokyo 141-0032

  © 1966

  by Charles E. Tuttle Co., Inc.

  All rights reserved

  Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 65-23712

  ISBN: 978-1-4629-1279-7 (ebook)

  First edition, 1966

  Printed in Japan

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Season of Violence

  The Punishment Room

  The Yacht and the Boy

  INTRODUCTION

  The stories in this collection of translated works are, in a word, shocking. They are shocking for their content no less than for their being completely different, image-breaking portrayals of postwar Japanese youth. These three stories are important as social documents just as they are important as literature, but for the reader without firsthand knowledge of Japan to fully appreciate their significance and their influence on modern Japan would be asking too much. Therefore, the translators feel that a brief general background here would greatly enhance the appreciation and understanding of this book. By placing the book against the background of its original publication as well as alongside of the events its publication spawned or influenced, the reader will, we hope, sense the significance of these stories all the more.

  A few years ago the coveted Japanese literary award bearing the name of the late Ryunosuke Akutagawa (author of Rashomon) was given to a 25-year-old author for his second novel. The novel was Taiyō no Kisetsu and the young author was Shintaro Ishihara. The novel had been a runaway best seller and the ever-alert Japanese film studios immediately capitalized on the book's fame by making a motion picture that proved controversial and, of course, very successful. The wild, willful, and seemingly amoral youth of the story and the large segment of Japanese teenagers who adopted these fictional characters as their own, became known collectively as taiyōzoku (literally, sun tribe). The symbolic head of this clan was the protagonist of the story, Tatsuya, personified in Shintaro Ishihara's younger brother Yujiro, the star of the film. The Taiyozoku films that followed firmly established the author's brother as a leading young actor, the "James Dean of Japan." The Taiyozoku of the film were imitated in action and dress, and often in irresponsible action, by the erstwhile Taiyozoku of real-life modern Japan. Parental pressure that had mounted against the book became all the more vehement as films in the genre continued to be ground out by the studios. As a result, Shintaro Ishihara, through his fictional characters, became a spokesman for the postwar generation, and his character Tatsuya, in the form of Yujiro Ishihara, the personification of that generation and its revolt. Though the picture of the present generation of Japanese just described completely contradicts the average overseas image of the Japanese—especially the image of the student generation—as a mild-mannered, diligent breed, it is a part of today's Japan. Japanese student riots have generally shocked the rest of the world, but the unpublicized everyday violence and callousness of the Sun Tribe is an even more shocking revelation of a basic social situation born in the ashes of defeat in World War II.

  Taiyō no Kisetsu in book and film form did not spark the so-called revolt of the younger generation in Japan, but it helped give it form. It supplied heroes to imitate in physical appearance and swagger, it supplied rationale for irresponsible behavior, it explained in brutal and dynamic terms the motivation of the "blameless" postwar generation, and it supplied a rallying point for those who wanted to point at some creed (or lack of it) and say "that's how it is with my generation." Taiyō no Kisetsu and the Taiyozoku share a good deal with segments of postwar young people everywhere, but the whole phenomenon of this large-scale mass identification and imitation came as a shock even to the Japanese people themselves.

  Taiyō no Kisetsu, here translated as Season of Violence, is a story of wanton young people who reject the world of their parents and all its rules of decent behavior, hardly pausing in their headlong plunge into the world of experience, of "doing what I want." The Punishment Room (also made into a film) and The Yacht and the Boy develop the same theme, so that the three stories form a trilogy of sex, violence, senseless brutality, and revolt against old laws of decency. Japanese critics have pointed out that these stories may be significant more for what they say than for how they say it, but this does not gainsay the power of the writing. Readers will sense the guiding hand of an author who was himself born into the postwar world and who speaks passionately through his characters of this period of great trial in Japan. Postwar Japan has been called a country which lost its moral code when it lost the war. Much good was rejected when the old ways were discarded on defeat in the war. The whole postwar world had its share of living for today and not caring about tomorrow, but Japan's utter defeat and rejection of the past may explain the extremity of this attitude among Tatsuya and his fellows.

  The translators hope that these English versions of three Ishihara stories do justice to the original Japanese versions and relay to Western readers the stories' original impact. We have tried to be true to the original Japanese without going to the extreme of translating literally anything that would detract from smooth reading and understanding. Some of the time sequences are confusing, but they are also confusing in the original and are an integral part of the mood which Ishihara creates. Certain remarks are ambiguous in the original and we have tried to give the reader the same freedom of interpretation in English that the Japanese-language reader had.

  Though it is a minor matter, those unfamiliar with Japanese currency may wonder at the amounts of cash that often change hands in these stories. Ten thousand yen, for example, is only about thirty dollars in U.S. currency, so that while the violence and cruelty of the characters are meant to be taken literally, the thousands of yen used may be converted in the reader's mind to sums of dollars of less staggering dimensions.

  The Translators

  SEASON OF VIOLENCE

  SEASON OF VIOLENCE

  (Taiyō no Kisetsu)

  Eiko fascinated Tatsuya in the same way that boxing did. She caused him the same mixture of shock and pleasure that he felt whenever he was knocked down in the ring.

  If he had taken a hammering from an opponent, he would immediately assume the correct stance again; then at the end of the round he would sit glaring at his enemy in the other corner, too excited to listen to his seconds. He could hardly wait to start fighting again. The thrill was unique and never palled.

  As soon as the next round started he was his old self again, jabbing confidently at his opponent. The spectators never failed to be impressed by the resolute smile he wore as the other boxer came weaving towards him.

  But Tatsuya was never a natural boxer. He looked cool and calm during his fights, but his enthusiasm outweighed his skill and experience. It was just that he liked sports, and boxing in particular. He had been on the basketball team for a year because of his height and ability. But he would never pass the ball once he had hold of it, and his selfish play often spoiled the teamwork both in practice and in real games.

  Tatsuya had once seen foreigners bamboozle a Japanese team in an international match by various tricks and feints. He had applauded vigorously, but when he tried the same tactics hims
elf, his side accused him of grand-standing.

  He first put on boxing gloves during his second year at college. One afternoon when there were no classes he went along to the gym to collect his winnings from a mah jong game. Eda, a classmate of his who ran the boxing club, owed him the money. It was early for training and only two or three boxers were warming up in the gym. There were sandbags hanging from the ceiling and shoes and gloves on the wall. Tatsuya smiled at a skull and crossbones painted on someone's locker. Everything was spotlessly clean and the atmosphere was calm, but the place reminded him of a slaughter house.

  Sahara was shadowboxing by the ringside and had obviously skipped English class in the morning. He wore a dark blue track suit with the school colors in stripes across the chest. The action of hitting out at nothing and from time to time bending down, looked strange. His legs moved quickly in their tight trousers, and his arms delivered sudden punches as if driven by some mysterious force.

  Tatsuya knew that Sahara was surprisingly strong for his size. The autumn before, a group of students had met for the annual matches and afterwards had made the rounds of the night clubs. An elderly passer-by—a graduate of their rival school—had told them to quiet down when they laughed drunkenly at him. He finally got angry and knocked one of them down. Sahara stepped forward and gave him a hard punch in the stomach. The man groaned and fell forward. As he fell, Sahara hit him in the face so hard that he shot over backwards and lay quietly sprawled on the floor. The others had been disappointed by the shortness of the fight, but Sahara was immediately accepted as a member of the club.

  Sahara caught sight of Tatsuya and grinned at him. It reminded Tatsuya of something that had happened in spring. Tatsuya was taking his brother's dog for a walk along the beach early one morning. He had seen a man in a red track suit with a white towel around his neck running along the shore, shadowboxing as he went. It was the Hawaiian world champion. Tatsuya knew the champion was almost at the end of his career, and he was in fact defeated by a Japanese boxer in the title match a week later. When he saw Tatsuya on the deserted shore, his dark face lit up in a broad grin. Tatsuya grinned back. When the boxer passed him again, after running to the end of the beach, Tatsuya flung his hands above his head in a gesture of triumph and shouted: "Hey, good luck!" He had seen two boxers greet each other like that in an American film.

  The champion waved to Tatsuya and ran past. As he watched him go, Tatsuya felt impressed and somewhat moved. He also felt pleased with what he had done. "I'm sure he'll remember this morning, even if he loses the fight," he said to himself.

  Tatsuya, who had been a supporter of the Japanese challenger, now found himself on the side of the older foreign champion. He was moved by the boxer's lonely self-discipline. He had the same feeling as he watched Sahara.

  He went over to the club room where Eda was playing poker with friends. Eda asked him what he wanted.

  "Oh, I'm just killing time really, but I also came to collect the money I won the other day," Tatsuya replied.

  "Well, you picked a fine time to show up. Come on, you can sit in and see if your luck repeats."

  Tatsuya joined them and was dealt cards.

  He had the ability to learn quickly, but he stopped when he learned all he thought there was to know. He played well enough not to lose even when playing against someone with a run of luck. Actually, cards bored him unless he was playing against a really good player. He regarded small games only as a means of making pin money, and that wasn't much of a challenge—that couldn't be called gambling.

  As time went on, more members arrived at the club. Some changed into their boxing gear without saying a word; others just stuck their heads inside, made some joking remark, and left. Tatsuya was winning as usual, but his mind was not on the game. He was embarrassed at winning in a group of which he was not a member.

  "What class do you figure I'd be?"

  "Of what?"

  "Of boxing, of course!"

  "If you were fit, I should think you'd be fighter than a featherweight," someone said, patting him on the shoulder.

  "Why not let me have a go at it?"

  "Stop kidding. You're in the basketball club, aren't you? Boxing's a lot different from your sexy-pants basketball, you know."

  "Yeah, I know, but basketball doesn't suit me. It's not my style."

  It was almost time to start training. They began to put the cards away.

  "Hey, Eda, just one round? It won't cause you any trouble."

  "Don't be crazy. You might get hurt and then what?"

  Sahara came over and asked what was going on.

  "He wants to do some sparring," said Eda. He turned to Tatsuya. "You're a fool to fight without any practice. If you get killed, don't blame me."

  "It's all right. Basketball's made me pretty tough, and anyway, I won't go too far. If you let me into the ring, I'll forget about the money you owe me and what I made today."

  "Let him have a go. I'll go into the ring with him and try to take it easy on him," said Sahara.

  "Well, don't blame me afterwards. A good thing the captain's not here today. Here, put on these sweat pants."

  "Come on, those pants are grim. Can't I wear your shorts. They're sharp?"

  "This isn't a real match, you know. Don't forget to warm up."

  The gloves on his hands looked incredibly large.

  Mitsuda, who was exercising with a skipping rope, saw Tatsuya coming and asked him what he was doing.

  "I'm fighting Sahara for the title," he replied and gave the sandbag a hearty punch. The bag was more responsive than he had expected. It made him feel excited.

  A number of students gathered around to watch the "title match." Tatsuya's stance resembled a basketball player's.

  "Bravo, two points!" someone shouted, and everybody laughed.

  Much against Tatsuya's will, Eda made him put on a headguard. He was the only person wearing one, and although he knew it was Eda's consideration for him, he felt a little insulted.

  The two fighters touched gloves and Eda rang the gong.

  "Take it easy, now."

  Tatsuya's first punch missed completely. Sahara did not even have to duck. He hit out again, a left, a right, a left, leaving his guard wide open. Sahara got in several jabs to the chin, followed by a hard left to the nose. Tatsuya pulled his head back, and Sahara delivered two strong punches to the body and stepped back to await Tatsuya's counterattack. They had been heavy blows. Tatsuya tried to smile but met his opponent's unsmiling eyes. They were cool and clear as he waited for the next chance to strike. Suddenly Tatsuya's whole nature boiled violently with impatience and anger.

  "What's the matter?" somebody cried out.

  He braced himself for a moment and then rushed at his opponent, striking out confusedly with both gloves. One or two blows must have told, but they soon got into a clinch and had to be separated. Sahara then pushed him to the ropes and landed a straight left to the heart. Tatsuya doubled up, only to receive an uppercut to his right eye. The blow was a shock to him. His face felt red and large and his vision was blurred.

  "Sorry. I didn't mean to let go."

  Tatsuya shook his head and stepped forward again. Then the gong sounded.

  "Enough for today! Are you all right? That last one was a rough one. But he did well, don't you think, Sahara?"

  "Yeah, and his punches are pretty strong. I could duck most of them, but he got a few in."

  "Do you still want to leave basketball and join us, or have you had enough? Maybe you have, huh?"

  Tatsuya was too exhausted to say much. His face, his chest, and his shoulders all felt swollen. Finally he muttered, "It's interesting, this boxing."

  "You're a bad boxer! Look at your face—big as a basketball!" said someone.

  "Eda, put a cold patch on Tatsuya's eye, will you?" said Sahara.

  And so he joined the boxing club. With Tatsuya's letter of resignation in hand, the basketball manager said, "Too bad he's got to quit now when we've trained him
this far." However, he admitted later that Tatsuya might make a good boxer as he had more drive than any of the others on the team.

  He concentrated on his boxing, loving the excitement of the fights. He also liked the tense feeling he had when he fought and the feeling of being on his own in the ring.

  In the late autumn, since there were only a few featherweights competing that year, he was picked to fight as a light featherweight in the All-Japan College Boxing Tournament. As a result of an unlucky draw, his first match was against the previous year's champion.

  "Still, the tougher the opponent, the better the fight," he said smilingly to the club members who showed anxiety. "It may not be interesting for the spectators, but it's more exciting for me. Can't tell the winner until it's finished."

  "Your opponent has a particularly strong punch, so try and fight at a distance and gain points. You have a longer reach than he has," the coach advised.

  During the fight Tatsuya only followed the advice for the first round. He had received two nasty blows at the end of the first. He began the second round in high spirits and went on springing around the ring. But Eda was worried. It was only a three-round fight, and in the third round Tatsuya received a fierce punch which cut the corner of his left eye. The cut started to bleed, and the cold-blooded crowd cheered louder. By the final gong Tatsuya was a popular fighter. He lost the match but gained points among the spectators.

  The next day the newspapers described him as an up and coming boxer with stamina and a hard punch. His fight was considered the most impressive of the feather-weights.

  A few days later Tatsuya was in a match at Yokohama. He was waiting in the gym dressing room when a bouquet of flowers was brought in to him. There was an unsigned card which read only: "To Tatsuya—Fight your best!"

  His friends jeered, "Good idea to have your flowers sent beforehand. You might not be able to smell them with a broken nose."

  "Won't you please win for me, Tatsu-baby!" said one of his friends, imitating a girl's voice.