Botchan – Chapter 5
Natsume Sōseki – 1906
“Would you like to come fishing?” Red Shirt asked me. Red Shirt speaks in an eerily soft voice; one can’ttell whether it’s a man’s or woman’s. If he’s a man, then he should speak with a man’s voice. Especiallysince he holds a university degree. In comparison to my voice as a mere physics school graduate, Red Shirt’s
voice must certainly be an embarrassment to the community of scholars.
When I hesitated to give a direct answer, he had the impudence to ask if I’d ever fished before. I hadn’t
actually done much, but as a child I once caught three crucian carp at the Koume fishing pond. At the
Bishamon temple fair in Kagurazaka I even hooked a twenty five-centimeter carp. I’d thought I had it, but
it escaped back into the water with a splash. When I confided to Red Shirt that remembering that carp stillbrought feelings of disappointment, he thrust his chin forward and let out a laugh. I could have done without
his haughty air and superficial laughter. “Then you’ve never really experienced fishing. If you like, I’ll show
you how it’s done.” He made this offer with a great deal of self-satisfaction. Who would want to be taught
anything by this guy? At any rate, those who fish and hunt are a cold and heartless lot. That’s why theyrejoice so in the destruction of living beings. Whether fish or bird, all creatures prefer life over death. Fishingand hunting are fine for those whose livelihood depends on them, but the fellow who lacks for nothing yet
can’t sleep at night till he’s killed something is extravagant in the extreme. These were my thoughts, but I
was reluctant to debate a scholar, so I kept quiet.
My silence was mistaken for consent, and it was settled that Red Shirt would teach me to fish. He was goingout that very day with Yoshikawa, and rather than just the two of them, it would be more fun with three.
Yoshikawa was that art teacher, whom I’d nicknamed Nodaiko. With whatever intention, this Noda visited
Red Shirt morning and night and followed him everywhere. Their relationship seemed much more that oflord and vassal than academic colleagues. It was no surprise that Noda would also accompany Red Shirt
fishing, but it was a mystery why the two of them would invite an unsociable fellow like me to disrupt their
comfortable outing. Most likely they planned to show off their fishing skills and lord it over the haplessnewcomer. They were fooling themselves if they thought they could impress me. I wouldn’t bat an eyebrow
if they hauled up a bluefin tuna. Any human being could toss a line into the water and wait for something
to bite. If I didn’t go with them though, Red Shirt would never accept that I simply didn’t want to fish, butwould conclude it was because I didn’t know how. With this in mind, I decided I’d best go along.
I finished at the school and stopped by home to prepare my things. I met up with Red Shirt and Noda at thestation, and we departed for the shore. Our boat was of a long and narrow shape that one doesn’t see around
Tōkyō, and it was piloted by a lone boatman. I glanced around the inside of the boat and didn’t see a single
fishing pole. I asked Noda how they intended to fish without poles. He rubbed his chin, assuming the air ofthe expert, and informed me that one uses only a line, and not a pole, for open-water fishing. I’d rather haveremained ignorant than receive such a smug answer from Noda.
The boatman rowed us out with a slow and deliberate motion, so I was duly impressed when I looked backand saw the shoreline already receding into the distance. The spire on the five-storied Kōhakuji pagoda
looked like a sharp needle protruding through the roof of the forest. In the other direction was an island
Botchan – Chapter 5 – Sōseki Project1

called Aoshima, which they told me was uninhabited. On closer inspection, there was nothing to it but rocks
and pine trees. No wonder no one lived there. Red Shirt gazed around and effused about the wonderfulscenery. Noda affirmed that it was indeed a truly magnificent view. I don’t know that the view was truly
magnificent, but it was certainly a pleasant setting. The wide sea and the salt breeze seemed to refresh thesoul. I felt a pang of hunger.
“Look at that pine tree. With that straight trunk and umbrella canopy it could be right out of a Turner
painting,” noted Red Shirt to Noda. “Very much Turneresque. What a subtle curvature. Definitely Turner,”
replied Noda with a proud demeanor. I didn’t know what or who Turner was, and I didn’t care to know, so
I kept quiet. The boat cornered, keeping the island on our right. There were no waves. The water was sosmooth that I could hardly believe we were at sea. Thanks to Red Shirt I was enjoying myself thoroughly. I
thought it would be fun to explore the island, so I asked if it would be possible to land the boat by the rocks.
Red Shirt replied that it should be possible, but for fishing it was best to keep some distance from theshoreline. I left it at that. Then Noda made the scatter-brained proposal that from here on we call the island
Turner Island. Red Shirt seconded the proposal whole-heartily and agreed that we should do so. I hoped that
I was not part of this “we.” The name Aoshima suited me just fine.
“Wouldn’t it make a wonderful painting if Rafael’s Madonna were over there on that rock,” remarked Noda.
Red Shirt responded with an uncomfortable laugh and suggested that there be no more talk of Madonna.
Noda told him not to worry, since no one was around, and with that he turned my way with a smirk on his
face, purposefully avoiding eye contact. I found this most unpleasant. Whether they put Madonna or
kodanna (a young master) on that rock was of no concern to me. They could do as they pleased. But they
were talking over my head and then dismissing my presence as no threat to their private innuendos.
Disgraceful behavior. And this Noda promoted himself as a Tōkyō man. I figured this “Madonna” must be
Red Shirt’s pet name for his favorite geisha. Fine with me if he wants to stand his geisha under a pine tree
on a lonesome island and gaze at her. All the better if Noda paints the scene in oil and puts the work on
display.
The boatman told us we’d reached a good spot, and he brought the boat to a stop and lowered the anchor.
Red Shirt asked him how deep the water was, and he replied about ten meters. Red Shirt threw in a line andremarked that snapper would be a challenge in ten-meter water. So the old fellow had his sights set high andintended to pull in a snapper. Noda cast in his own line and fawned on Red Shirt, assuring him that with his
skill, and with this calm sea, he was sure to get his snapper. There was just a lead sinker at the ends of theirlines, no bobber. Fishing without a bobber was like measuring the temperature without a thermometer. I
saw no point in even trying, but they told me to give it a go and asked if I had line. I replied that I had plentyof line but no bobber, and I was informed that bobbers were only for the novice fisherman. “Like this. When
your line reaches the bottom, place your index finger underneath and rest it against the side of the boat.
Then carefully monitor the tension.”“Got one!” Red Shirt suddenly began reeling in his line. I thought he had something, but the line came up
empty, minus its bait. Served him right. Then Noda chimed in with his usual quirky commentary. “Mostunfortunate, and it was surely a big one. If they're escaping from a master today, then we'll all have to up
our game. On the other hand, better to lose one through honest effort than stare witlessly at a bobber. Those
Botchan – Chapter 5 – Sōseki Project2

folks who use bobbers are no better than those folks who can’t handle a bicycle without brakes.” At thispoint I was just about ready to pummel him. As a human being, I had the same right to the sea as Red Shirt.
It’s a big place. A bonito or such would surely have the common courtesy to bite on my line. With that I
dropped in my line and sinker and went through the motion of gaging the tension with my fingertip.
After a while I detected a twitching in the line. I thought about it and concluded it must be a fish. Only aliving creature would twitch so. “Gotcha! Caught one!” I reeled the line in as fast as I could. While Noda
chided me with, “Oh, did you catch something? One must never underestimate the power of youth,” I reeledin most of the line to where only one or two meters remained in the water. I looked over the side of the boatand saw something like a striped goldfish. It was swimming side to side but also rising as I pulled the line
in hand over hand. I felt a tinge of excitement. As it broke the water it bucked with a splash, dousing myface with sea water. I seized it and tried to remove the hook, but I couldn’t manage to work it loose. The
hand that held the fish felt slimy and most unpleasant. Weary of struggling, I swung the line in an arc andsmacked the fish down against the middle of the boat, bringing about its quick end. Red Shirt and Noda
looked on in surprise. I splashed my hand in the sea to wash it and brought it to my nose. It still smelled
fishy. That was enough. Regardless of what I might catch, I didn’t wish to handle another fish, and no fish
likely wished to be handled by me either. I wound up my line and put it away.
“Quite an achievement to reel in the first catch of the day, even if it’s a goruki (multicolorfin rainbow fish).”Noda contributed yet another smart-aleck remark. “Goruki sounds like the name of a Russian literati,” joked
Red Shirt. “Yes indeed, just like a Russian literati,” Noda immediately agreed. “Gorky is a Russian literati,
Maruki is the photographer at Shiba, and Komenonaruki (a rice seedling) is the giver of life.” Red Shirt
loved to throw unfamiliar foreign names out at anyone within earshot. Each of us has our own specialty. Asa mathematics instructor, I couldn’t tell ‘goruki’ from ‘jariki’ (a cart puller), and I wished he’d dispensewith the highbrow humor. He should allude to something I might understand, like Benjamin Franklin’s
autobiography or Marden’s “Pushing to the Front.” Red Shirt was known to occasionally bring a red-coveredmagazine titled “Imperial Literature” to the school and peruse it reverently. According to Yama Arashi, thiswas the source of his foreign names. Imperial Literature was a scourge on us all.
Red Shirt and Noda fished their hearts out for the next hour and between the two of them caught fifteen or
sixteen fish. Curiously, each and every fish they brought up was a goruki. There was not the faintest hint ofa snapper. Red Shirt remarked to Noda that the day’s haul was all about Russian literature. Noda repliedthat if a fisherman as skilled as Red Shirt could manage only goruki, then it was no wonder that he himself
had also caught nothing better. The boatman told me these small fish were full of bones and poor in flavor,
not at all fit for eating. However, they did make good fertilizer. Red Shirt and Noda, who had given their all
to reel up fertilizer, were deserving of due sympathy. I’d had enough after my first catch and had been lying
in the middle of the boat, gazing at the blue sky. I found this smarter by far than fishing.
As I lay there, the two of them began talking in whispers. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, and I didn’t
care to hear. I was gazing at the sky and thinking of Kiyo. It would be wonderful if I had money and could
bring her to a beautiful spot like this. No matter how wonderful the scenery, Noda in the frame ruined theshot. Kiyo was a wrinkled old lady, but I would take her with me anywhere unashamedly. Noda could ridein a horse-drawn carriage, sail on a grand ship, or ascend to the top of Ryōunkaku (Japan’s tallest building
Botchan – Chapter 5 – Sōseki Project3

in the Meiji era), but he still couldn’t hold a candle to Kiyo. If I were the head teacher and Red Shirt wereme, no doubt Noda would fawn on me and ridicule Red Shirt. Tōkyō people are regarded as superficial, andno wonder, when guys like Noda travel the countryside advertising themselves as natives of Tōkyō. Country
folk, accordingly, must imagine Tōkyō the epicenter of superficiality. As I was thinking thus, the two ofthem began to chuckle over something. I caught only intermittent words between spells of laughter andcouldn’t follow their conversation.
“Huh? How so ...” “... you don’t say ... since he doesn’t know ... wronged indeed.” “No ...” “Grasshoppers ...
absolutely.”
I wasn’t following their conversation, but my ears reflexively perked when Noda said the word
“grasshoppers.” For whatever reason, he put particular emphasis on this word, so that I couldn’t help but
hear. After that he purposefully muffled his speech. I didn’t move from where I was, but they had myattention.
“That Hotta again ...” “Could well be ...” “Tempura ... ha ha ha ha ha” “... incited ....” “Dumplings too?”
Their words came to me in bits and pieces, but they had mentioned grasshoppers, then tempura, thendumplings. These words left no doubt that their private whispers concerned me. If they were going to talkthey should talk so a person could hear. If they wanted to converse privately then they needn’t have invitedme along. What an odious pair. Be it grasshoppers or be it leather-soled sandals (batta or setta), the fault lay
not with me. The principal had asked for time to address the situation, and I was showing restraint out ofdeference to his request. Leave it to Noda to butt in with unsolicited critique. He should crawl away andsuck on a paint brush. I‘d show them all, soon enough, that I was more than capable of handling my own
situation. These two meddlers were of no consequence, but the words “that Hotta” and “incited” were cause
for concern. I didn’t know if they were implying that Hotta had escalated the disturbances by inciting myire, or if they were implying that Hotta had incited the students to rile me. As I looked up at the blue sky, its
light slowly faded, and a cool breeze began to stir. Thin clouds, like wisps of incense smoke, quietly
stretched to nothingness, only to regather as gentle haze in the depths of the blue.
“Shall we head back in?” Red Shirt suddenly asked. “Yes, it’s just the right time. Will Madonna be enjoying
the pleasure of your company tonight?” inquired Noda. “Let’s dispense with such nonsense. No point instirring the pot.” Red Shirt, who had been relaxing against the side of the boat, straightened himself a bit.
“He-he, don’t worry. Even if we’re overheard ...” This time as Noda glanced in my direction I hit him squareon with the meanest of glares. He flinched away as though blinded by a bright light. Muttering something
about how I was going to be a real handful, he shrugged his shoulders and scratched his head. Impertinent
to the core.
We were rowing back toward shore through the calm sea. Red Shirt remarked that I didn’t seem to enjoy
fishing, and I told him I preferred to relax and watch the sky. I tossed the remains of my cigarette onto thewater, and it sizzled as it went out, then floated away on the ripples stirred by the oar. “The students arequite pleased with your arrival. Be sure to give them your best effort.” Red Shirt shifted the topic completely
away from fishing. “They don’t seem at all pleased.” “I wouldn’t flatter you. They really are pleased. Isn’t
Botchan – Chapter 5 – Sōseki Project4

that right, Yoshikawa?” “More than pleased, they’re beside themselves,” Noda replied with a smirk. Why
did every word from his mouth touch on my nerves? “But you’d best be careful. There are hazards to thejob,” added Red Shirt. “Of course there are hazards. At this point I’m resigned to hazards.” I had, in fact,
decided that I would either receive a sincere apology from the boarding students or resign my post. “Don’t
box yourself into a corner. As the head teacher I’m obliged to look out for you, so I hope you won’t
misunderstand me.” “The head teacher has your best interests in mind. I also, as a fellow Tōkyō man, hope
you’ll have a long career with us here. I believe we should look out for each other. I’ve been working in the
background, to the best of my limited ability, in support of your success.” Noda actually spoke like a humanbeing for once, but I’d sooner strangle myself than be beholden to the likes of him.
“The students have indeed welcomed your arrival wholeheartedly, but there are various considerations atplay. You’re likely unhappy with some of the things that have transpired, but take this as a time for
perseverance and work through it. You’ll find in the end that these things are not entirely to your detriment.”“What exactly do you mean by various considerations?”“It’s a little complicated, but at any rate you’ll understand in time. You won’t need me to explain. Better towait and grasp the situation on your own, isn’t that right Yoshikawa?”“Yes, it is quite complicated. One can’t understand everything from day one. Over time you’ll come tounderstand. You won’t need me to explain. Better to wait and grasp the situation on your own.” Noda echoedclosely what Red Shirt had said.
“If it’s that onerous to explain then I don’t need an explanation, but you broached this subject from yourside.”“You’re absolutely correct. It would be irresponsible of me to introduce the subject and leave you hanging.
Allow me to tell you a couple of things. Excuse me for saying so, but you’re newly graduated and this is
your first experience as an instructor. Within the school setting there are myriad personal and professional
motivations at work. The innocent candor of your student days will not serve you well here.”“If candor won’t serve me, then what will?”“You’re always so direct. That’s why I noted your lack of experience.”“How could I not be inexperienced? As I wrote on my resumé, my age is twenty three years and four months.”“And that’s why you’re susceptible. You can be taken advantage of by an adversary you don’t evenrecognize.”“If I conduct myself with integrity, then I’m not afraid of any adversary whomsoever.”“Of course you’re not afraid. You’re not afraid, but you’re being taken advantage of. It’s a fact that yourpredecessor was done in, so I’m advising you to watch yourself.”

Botchan – Chapter 5 – Sōseki Project5

I noticed that Noda had grown quiet. I turned and saw him in the stern with the boatman. They were talking
about fishing. It was much easier conversing without Noda present.
“Who was it that did in my predecessor?”“If I name names, then I’ve compromised another man’s reputation. I don’t have solid proof yet, so I can’t
put my own person at risk. At any rate, since you’ve come all this way to join us, we don’t want to see you
fail. All the effort of bringing you here would be for naught. Please do take care.”“Take care? I can’t take any more care than I’ve taken already. Is proper conduct in my duties not sufficient?”
Red Shirt laughed heartily, though I didn’t recall having said anything humorous. Up to this day I’ve lived
by my firmly held beliefs. But thinking about it, it seems that much of the world encourages and rewards
shady behavior. It’s widely accepted that honesty hinders success. When worldly people happen across asincere and genuine man, they brand him a greenhorn or junior apprentice and treat him with disdain. If
that’s how it works, then our ethics teachers should stop instructing primary and middle schoolers to tell thetruth. Students should be openly instructed in the art of lying, the merits of distrust, and how to scheme
deceit. This would better serve both the students themselves and society as a whole. Red Shirt’s laughter
had been directed at my simplicity. A world where simplicity and honesty are objects of ridicule is a lostcause. Kiyo would never have laughed in the same situation. She would have listened with great respect.
Kiyo outclassed Red Shirt by a wide margin.
“Of course one must behave ethically, but adhering to one’s own principles is not enough. If one can’t
recognize sinister behavior in others then one’s likely to meet a bad end. There are some in this world who
appear openhearted, appear candid, even appear kind in helping a newcomer settle into his lodgings, butvigilance must be maintained at all times ... It’s become chilly. Autumn seems to be upon us. See how thathaze hangs a sepia color over the beach. Hey, Yoshikawa! What do you think of that view toward the beach?”
Red Shirt re-engaged Noda with a loud voice. Noda concurred that it was a remarkable view and added that
it was a pity to let it pass without time for a sketch.
There was a light burning in the second floor of the Minatoya Inn. Just as the whistle of the steam trainsounded, our boat dug its nose into the wet sand of the beach and came to rest. The hostess from the innstood on the beach and welcomed Red Shirt. I jumped with a shout from the side of the boat to the shore.

Botchan – Chapter 5 – Sōseki Project6