# Eminent Authors of Contemporary Japan/Volume 2/The Nose

The Nose By Ryunosuke Akutagawa
(A Short Story),
Translated by Haruo Endo and Eric S. Bell.
The Nose
There was no one at Ikeno-o who was not familiar with the nose of Zenchi, the ‘Naigu’ (a high priest of a Buddhist temple). Its length was about five or six inches, and it hung down from above his upper lip to beneath his jaw. It was equally thick from the bridge down to the tip; in fact, it had the appearance of a long sausage hanging untidily from the middle of his face.
The Naigu was more than fifty years of age, and in his innermost mind he had never ceased worrying about his nose through the days and years which had passed since he was a Shami (a young man entering priesthood), until now, when he had reached the happy position of ‘Naidojo-gubu’ (an abbot of a Buddhist lecture hall attached to the Imperial House). But externally one could not discern any trace of worry, for he rather gave himself airs, as if he cared little about his long nose. This came from the fact that he had convinced himself that it would be rather a bad thing for a Buddhist priest—who had an intense and fervent desire to enter the Buddhist Paradise when his time came—to show any anxiety about having a long nose. He also hated to feel that people knew he worried about it. More than anything else in the world he had a horror of hearing the word ‘nose’ mentioned in everyday conversation.
​The Naigu’s disgust with his nose arose from two sources: firstly, from a practical point of view it was exceedingly inconvenient to have such a long nose. At mealtimes he was unable to take his food by himself, for if he had attempted to do so, his nose would have touched the rice in his bowl. He therefore had to have the assistance of a disciple, who always sat at the opposite side of the small ‘zen’ table at which he ate, and all the while he was taking his food, the latter, with the assistance of a board, one inch wide and twenty-four inches long, would lift the Naigu’s nose carefully, so that it did not fall into his food. To take meals in such a way was no easy task for the disciple, who had to keep continually raising his board; nor was it less unpleasant for the Naigu, whose nose had to be continually raised.
It is said that once a “chudoji” (a priest’s page)—who had taken the place of this disciple during his absence—had to give way to a rather acute sneeze, and in doing so, his hands shook so violently that he allowed the Naigu’s nose to drop into a bowl of porridge. This little incident was noised abroad at the time, and was even discussed in such a distant place as Kyoto.
But these things were not the chief cause of the worry he experienced over his nose. To speak truthfully, his nose was rather an insult to his personal pride.
The townsfolk of Ikeno-o often remarked that it was indeed fortunate that the Naigu had not been ​bred amongst plebeians. They all felt that no woman would ever like to become the wife of a man with such a nose. Some of them even ventured to say that his nose was the cause of his becoming a priest. But the Naigu once having gone into the priesthood, did not feel that his worries were reduced in the least. His mind was too delicately subtle to weigh the consequences of marriage under such circustances. He tried very hard to overcome his pride.
First of all he tried to think of some way of making his nose appear shorter than it really was. He enthusiastically attempted all manner of means. Looking carefully at himself in a mirror when he was alone, he viewed himself at many angles, but he became moody and dissatisfied when he found that there was no way to change his face. Sometimes he would sit before his mirror for a long time, supporting his cheeks with his hands, and pressing them together; and sometimes he would press his finger firmly under his chin, but none of these attempts seemed to alter or shorten his nose in the least. On the contrary, he often imagined that his nose became even longer than before. At such times the Naigu would put his mirror back into its case, and would sigh heavily as if some new trouble were arising. He would then return to the small alter at which he liked to sit to read the Buddhist sutras.
Besides the things I have mentioned, the Naigu always took great care to examine the noses of others. At the Temple of Ikeno-o memorial services ​were frequently performed for priests who had died. The dormitories were built in the precincts of the temple, and were very simple indeed, leaving little room to walk about. In the bath-room, the priests who belonged to the temple took their daily baths, and there were many classes of clergy and laity always coming and going between the dormitories and the bathroom, and the Naigu made it his duty to examine the faces of everyone of them, for he felt that it would greatly relieve his mind if he could find even one person who had a nose like his.
He never seemed to notice whether they were attired in deep-blue “suikan” (old-fashioned Japanese dress) or in summer garments of hemp. Furthermore, accustomed as he was to see the caps and gray hoods of the other priests, they never seemed visible to his eyes at all. He never looked at the man himself, but always at his nose. But even though he searched carefully among all these people that came and went, he never found another like himself. As his failure to discover another nose such as his went on continuously without any result, his moodiness increased more than ever. Despite his age, he blushed very easily, and when he was talking with others, he frequently found himself supporting his nose with his hand. Sheer nervousness caused him to act in this way.
Again, at one time the Naigu felt that if he were able to find any mention of a man with a nose like his in the “Naiten” (the Buddhist Scriptures) or the “Geten” (Scriptures of other religions outside the field ​of Buddhism), it would have consoled him a little. In the Scriptures it was not written that the nose of Shaributsu was long. “Ryuju” and “Mamei” (Buddhist Saints) of course had ordinary noses like anyone else. In addition to that he searched in all the tales of “Shintan” (the Hindoo word for China, used in the Buddhist scriptures). The ears of Ryu Gen Toku (a Chinese hero) of Shokukan, were long, and he thought sadly that, if it had only been his nose that was long instead of his ears, he would have perhaps been greatly pleased to read of it.
I should not mention it perhaps, but though he worried himself in a negative way, he also felt it imperative at other times that he should find some way to have his nose shortened. At such times he tried to discover any possible way to have it done. He had tried drinking “Karasuuri” (a fruit used for medicial purposes), and he had even rubbed his noses with an acid taken from the bodies of rats, but though he experimented in many kinds of ways and put forth every effort that was possible to reduce the size of his nose, it still hung its five or six unsightly inches from above his lips.
Unexpectedly, in the autumn of a certain year, a disciple priest of his, who had gone to Kyoto on some business, and also to attend to some private matters of the Naigu, happened to meet a certain doctor with whom he was acquainted. This doctor had once emigrated from China, and was now in the position of “Guso” (someone giving his services to a temple where ​an important Idol is kept) at the Chorakuji Temple, and he explained to the disciple a method of shortening the nose of the Naigu.
When told of this, the Naigu, as usual pretended that he was not at all concerned about his nose, and he obstinately appeared to show little interest in what he was told, nor would he make any promise that he would even consider giving the idea a test. But at mealtimes he would remark pleasantly that he was sorry he needed the disciple’s help. Deep in his heart he was really waiting for the time when his disciple would persuade him to undergo this experiment with his nose. As for the latter, it was quite obvious that he saw through this trick of the Naigu’s. But it may be that he had a deep compassion in his heart for the Naigu who was tricking him so carefully, so he treated his obstinacy with patience and good-will.
However, in accordance with the Naigu’s expectation, the disciple at last commenced to advise him earnestly to give this experiment a trial. The Naigu too, as was to be expected, began to take heed of the advice given him.
The experiment was a very simple one indeed. It had to be done with very hot water. In fact the nose had to be boiled, and after it had boiled long enough, it required pressing very firmly between someone’s feet.
There was always quantities of hot water everyday in the bath-room of the temple, so one day the disciple poured some of it into a “hisage” (a wooden vessel for holding wine) and took it to the Naigu’s room. The ​water was so hot that it was painful even to dip one’s finger into it. The disciple knew well that if the Naigu put his nose directly into such hot water, the heat of the steam might cause some severe burns to his face. They therefore decided to make a hole in the lid of this vessel, and through it the Naigu would put his nose gradually into the boiling water. So the experiment began, and strange to say, as the nose was only partly dipped at first into the water, he felt no pain at all.
After he had been holding it there for a short time the disciple asked:
“Surely your nose must be already boiled?”
The Naigu smiled bitterly, for he thought that if anyone should overhear such a remark, he would never comprehend its strange meaning. After his nose had been boiled for a time, it began to itch terribly, and felt as if insects were biting it all over.
As soon as the Naigu removed his nose from the water, the disciple began to press it with his feet. As he did so, a great deal of steam rose from it. The Naigu lay flat on the floor, his nose stretched out before him, and he patiently watched the disciple’s feet as they moved up and down. Sometimes the latter, with a deep look of sympathy, glanced down at the Naigu’s bald head, and remarked.
“Do you feel no aching?—The doctor told me to continue pressing until it was entirely reduced in size.—But, doesn’t it ache?
But while his nose was being pounded in such a ​manner, even though he tried, he was unable to move at all, and without answering he glanced up sideways at the disciple. After a while he found his tongue, and assuming rather a tone of irritation he said,
“It doesn’t ache at all!”
Really the operation of pressing, especially when his nose became rather ticklish, almost had a soothing effect on the Naigu, and he felt very little signs of ache. After the pressing had been going on for some time, little pimples, like millet seeds began to appear on it. It began to look like the body of some small plucked bird after it had been well roasted. When the disciple noticed its odd appearance, he ceased working his feet, and softly murmured to himself,
“—I am told that these spots should be removed with ‘Kenuki’ (a kind of minute pincers).”
The Naigu, puffing out his cheeks, was not at ease, but he kept silent, for he realised that he had entrusted himself to his disciple. There was not unkind meaning in his look of discontent. It was not that he was ungrateful to his disciple, but it was merely because he didn’t like the way the disciple treated his nose as if it were some dead article.
Then the Naigu, with an expression on his face like someone who had been undergoing an operation, continued to watch his disciple putting the finishing touches to his nose by removing all traces of grease.
When this was quite finished, and when the disciple seemed to have completed his task on the Naigu’s nose, the former gave a deep sigh of satisfaction, and an ​expression of intense relief showed itself in his face. But looking at the Naigu he remarked,
“Once it is boiled again, it will be perfectly satisfactory.” The Naigu’s expression was anything but pleasing, and he contracted his eyebrows into a frown. But he again did as his disciple had bidden him, and put his nose back into the boiling water.
Now, when it had been boiled well a second time, he removed it from the vessel, and certainly it was much shorter than it had been before, but its shape was not so very different from that of any ordinary nose. Stroking it gently, the Naigu looked shyly and hesitatingly into the mirror which his disciple passed to him. His nose, which once had hung down beneath his jaw as if it had been something unreal, now had the appearance of a mere “skeleton” of a nose growing from above his upper lip. As to its red appearance and the motley dots and spots which decorated it, he thought perhaps that they were only the traces left of the recent hard pressing it had undergone.
After all, having such a nose as this would never cause laughter from others. The Naigu thought this as he viewed his face again in the mirror, and he blinked his eyes contentedly.
That day, however, he experienced the anxiety that perhaps his nose might grow long again. As he read his sutras, or when taking his meals, he would very often touch the end of his nose with his hands. The nose, however, still sat neatly above his upper lip, and there was no indication so far that it would grow ​downward again.
That night the Naigu slept well, and as soon as he woke next morning, he felt his nose. It was still short. So from that time onward the Naigu felt in a placid and calm state of mind. Such a feeling had been absent from his heart for a very long time indeed. He now had the feeling of one who had been putting all his efforts into copying “Hokekyo” (the Book of Hokke, in the Buddhist Scriptures) neatly into handwriting, and had come to the end of his task satisfactorily.
After two or three days had elapsed, however, the Naigu had an unexpected experience. A certain samurai happened to pay a visit to the Temple of Ikeno-o, and while talking with him, he noticed that the former was pulling a funny face as he looked at him. Something seemed to be diverting the samurai’s attention from their conversation. Something seemed to be amusing him very much, and instead of listening to what was being said, he only stared hard at the Naigu’s nose.
Not only did this worry him, but outside the lecture-hall of the temple, when he met the same chudoji who had once so carelessly let the Naigu’s nose fall into his porridge-bowl, he dropped his head as he passed, as if he was trying to suppress some amusement, and, being unable to control his feelings properly, burst loudly into laughter. Also the “gehoshi” (a lower priests), when they were in the presence of the Naigu, listened meekly to his orders, but would giggle ​to themselves as soon as he turned his head away for one moment.
At first the Naigu put it down to the fact that his face had somewhat changed in appearance; yet even this did not thoroughly convince him, but,—of course this must be the reason for the laughter of the chudoji and the gehoshi. Though their laughter was the ordinary kind of laughter, he observed something different in their mirth, something which was never there before when his nose was long. We may even say that the shortened nose looked more of a caricature than the long nose to which they were accustomed. If he could feel satisfied with such an explanation of their mirth, it would have been all right, but there was still something in their laughter which he could not explain.
“They certainly never laughed at me in this way before!” The Naigu used to stop in the middle of reading the sutras, and inclining his bald head on one side, he would murmur this to himself. The loving-hearted Naigu, when he was thus meditating, absentmindedly allowed his gaze to wander to the portrait of “Fugen” (a Buddhist Saint), and he thought about the length of his nose as it had been a few days before, and somehow he felt distressed at heart like one in humble circumstances who recollects his prosperoue past. The Naigu was clever enough to find somr answer to this worrying problems: From the human heart there springs two different kinds of feelings. Of course there are people who sympathise with the ​misfortunes of others, but when others fight against great odds and merely escape misforture by a hair’s breadth, somehow we feel unsatisfied, as if their escape had in some slight degree caused us disappointment. If we exaggerate these feelings, it seems that there is some dosire in all of us to push such people right back into the midst of misfortune again. At the same time, deep in our hearts, we feel some sympathy for their escape.
The Naigu, though he did not know the reason, felt somewhat troubled at the perception which enabled him vaguely to see “the egoism of the observers,” which showed itself amongst the clergy and laity of Ikeno-o. As time went by, he became still more distressed. When anyone asked him a question a second time, he got angry and scolded them severely. Eventually he became so unkind and irritable that the disciple who had operated on his nose began to talk about him rather harshly behind his back. He even remarked that the Naigu would soon be committing “hokendon” (a self-inflicted punishment to one who has suffered an indignity).
The person who offended the Naigu most of all was that young and mischievous chudoji. One day, hearing the loud barking of a dog, the Naigu wandered out of the temple. There he found the boy rushing about and cutting the air rapidly with a two-foot wooden board. He was chasing a longehaired dog, and as he did so, he shouted at the top of his voice, “Look out for your precious nose, or I might beat it flat!” The Naigu was very angry, and snatching the piece of ​board from the boy, he hit him rather violently across the face with it. He noticed that the piece of wood was the same one which his disciple had used before to lift his nose while he was taking his meal.
Somehow, now, the Naigu began to regret that his nose had been shortened.
One night, after the sun had set, a brisk wind rose, and while he lay on his bed there came to his ears the sound of the “futaku” (windbells) which hung outside the temple. They were tinking very loudly. Moreover, the cold was growing intense, and in spite of his wish to sleep, this noise prevented him from even getting a wink of slumber. While he was lying wide awake, he became aware that his nose felt more ticklish than usual. Feeling it with his hands, he felt sure that it was slightly swollen like any nose that is suffering from a severe cold. The likelihood of such a thing happening seemed quite probable to him in such cold weather. He felt that he might even be suffering from a slight fever.
“As I shortened my nose unnaturally, perhaps I am suffering from some kind of sickness!” the Naigu whispered to himself, as he pressed his nose with his hands in a gesture as pious as if he were placing incense or flowers before the shrine of Buddha.
The next morning, rising early as usual, he found that a fig-tree and a horse-chesnut tree in the temple-grounds had shed all their leaves during the night, and the garden was strewn with them, giving it the appearance of having been sprinkled with gold. He also ​noticed that at the top of the pagoda-tower, the “kurin” (a decoration of spiral rings attached to the top of the tower of a pagada) was glittering and shining under the still weak rays of the early morning sun. He thought perhaps it might be frost.
The Naigu stood on the balcony of the temple, the shutters of which had already been opened, and as his eyes rested on the beauty of the morning and all that he saw before him, he breathed deeply with contentment.
But somehow while he stood there, the old feeling of worry came to him again, and after some hesitation he put up one of his hand to feel the condition of his nose. What he felt was not the short nose of yesterday, but he became aware that his old nose, with its five to six inches of length, hung again from above his upper lip to beneath his jaw. The Naigu suddenly realised that his nose must have grown again to its former length during the previous night. At once a strange feeling of happiness came into his heart, the very same feeling he had experienced when he first found that his nose had been successfully shortened.
“Surely no one will ever laugh at me now that my nose has grown long again,” murmured the Naigu to himself as his long nose hung in the gray of an autumn dawn.
The End