Sanshirō – Chapter 6
Natsume Sōseki – 1908
The bell rang, and the lecturer left the room. Sanshirō shook the excess ink from his pen and started to close
his notebook. “Hey, let me see that. I missed some things,” Yojirō called to him from the next seat over.
Yojirō pulled Sanshirō’s notebook over and looked at the page. The words “stray sheep” were scrawled
about at random.
“What is this?”“I was just scribbling. I got tired of taking notes.”“I hope you paid attention. Kant’s transcendental idealism was being contrasted with Berkeley’stranscendental realism.”“Something like that.”“You weren’t listening?”“Not really.”“Just like a stray sheep. You’re hopeless.”
Yojirō scooped up his own notes and stood up. “Follow me,” he said to Sanshirō as he moved away fromthe desk.
Sanshirō followed Yojirō out of the room. They went down the stairs and out onto the grass in front of theentrance. There was a large cherry tree, and the two of them sat down beneath it.
In early summer, this lawn would be covered in clover. When Yojirō had arrived to present his application
for admission, two students were resting under this same tree. One of them mused to the other how hewished he could sing romantic ballads in lieu of his oral examinations. Then he’d have plenty of words for
his inspectors. The other improvised a verse and sang it quietly in response. “I’d like a professor who knows‘bout the world. I’d like him to quiz me on romance and girls.” Ever since, this cherry tree was Yojirō’sfavorite spot. When he wanted to talk, he would have Sanshirō join him here. After hearing this story,
Sanshirō understood why Yojirō had wanted to translate “pity’s akin to love” into a ballad. Today, however,Yojirō was uncharacteristically serious. As soon as he’d seated himself on the grass, he pulled an edition of
Literary Review from his pocket and put it in front of Sanshirō, face up and already open to a marked page.
“What do you think?” he asked.
The title, written in large typeface, read Great Dark Void. Below it was the pen name Reiyoshi. Sanshirō
had heard Yojirō use the term “great dark void” several times in referring to Professor Hirota. However, theSanshirō – Chapter 6 – Sōseki Project1

name Reiyoshi was entirely unfamiliar. Before answering what he thought, Sanshirō turned his gaze backto Yojirō. Without a word, Yojirō leaned his face forward. Then, he pressed his right index finger to the tipof his nose and held it there. Another student, standing a ways off, observed the scene and broke into a grin.
Yojirō took notice and finally lifted his finger off his nose.
“It’s me,” he said.
Sanshirō’s supposition was confirmed. “That piece you were working on as the rest of us set out for thechrysanthemum show. This is it?”“That one? No. It’s only been a few days. They can’t set and print that fast. That’ll come out next month. I
wrote this one a while ago. Can you guess from the title what it’s about?”“Professor Hirota?”“Exactly. The first step is to stir up grassroots support. That’ll open the door for a position at the university ...”“Is this publication really that influential?” Sanshirō had never heard of it.
“Actually, no. That’s the problem,” Yojirō admitted.
“What’s the circulation?”
Yojirō didn’t give a number. “Well anyway, it’s at least worth a try.” He defended his effort.
On further inquiry, it turned out that Yojirō had a long history with this publication. Time allowing, hecontributed something to each edition. At the same time, he always changed his pen name, so only a few
close friends knew. Who could have guessed? Sanshirō himself was just now learning of Yojirō’s
connection to the literary community. Still, it was beyond him why Yojirō would want to release his“important piece of work” under another silly assumed name.
Sanshirō asked Yojirō, rather imprudently, if he wrote as a side job to earn extra money.
Yojirō rolled his eyes incredulously. “You’re freshly in from the Kyūshū countryside, and you’re ignorantof the dynamic literary scene here in the capital. That’s why you pose such thoughtless questions. How
could anyone with half an intellect, surrounded by a world of modern thought and watching it seethe with
passion, stand idly by doing nothing? In this new age, young men like us hold the power of the pen. If we
refrain from expressing ourselves, even with a single word or a simple phrase, then haven’t we squanderedan opportunity? Powerful forces are flipping the literary world on its head. Everything is in violent turmoil
and shifting in new directions, and if it leaves us behind we’re finished. If we don’t take initiative andharness these trends, then what are we here for? They cheapen the word “literature” through overuse, but
that’s their university literature. Our new literature holds a great mirror to the true human experience. Our
new literature is destined to inform every action of the new Japan. And it is, in fact, doing so. While they
sleep and dream, it’s working its effect. It’s a fearsome thing ...”

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Sanshirō listened in silence. It smacked a little of empty bluster. Nevertheless, the fervor with which Yojirō
expounded it was authentic. The speaker himself, at least, seemed quite sincere. Sanshirō was duly
impressed.
“So that’s your motivation. And the writer’s fee doesn’t matter, then?”“I take the fee, whatever I can get. Unfortunately, the magazine doesn’t sell well, so they seldom pay me
anything at all. We need some way to increase circulation. Do you have any good ideas?” Now Yojirō was
engaging him in consultation. Sanshirō was bewildered by the abrupt shift to practicalities. Yojirō took no
notice. The bell clanged noisily.
“Anyway, I’m giving you this copy, so read it. Great Dark Void is an intriguing title, don’t you think? It’s
certain to impress. -- The title has to impress, or no one will bother to read further.”
The two of them went back inside, entered the lecture hall, and took their seats. By and by the professor
appeared. They both began taking notes. Sanshirō’s mind was on Great Dark Void, so he set the copy of
Literary Review, still open to the page, next to his notebook. When he wasn’t writing notes, he was glancing
discretely at the magazine. Fortunately, the professor was nearsighted. Furthermore, he was thoroughly
absorbed in his own lecture and took no notice of Sanshirō’s imprudence. Sanshirō enjoyed himself, notetaking here and reading there. Doing the work of two men single-handedly, however, turned out to be an
impossible feat. In the end, his lecture notes and Great Dark Void became jumbled in his mind. Only one
line from Yojirō’s writing stuck with clarity.
“How many years does nature take to form a jewel? And how many years does it sparkle in silence before
fortune discovers it?” This was the line he remembered. The rest was a blur. On the other hand, he’d madeit through this whole period without once writing “stray sheep” in his notes.
As soon as the lecture ended, Yojirō turned to Sanshirō and asked, “What did you think?”
When Sanshirō replied that he hadn’t read it through yet, Yojirō reproached him for mis-prioritizing histime. Then he implored him to read it. Sanshirō promised he would read it at home without fail. At noon,
the two of them left together through the university gate.
“I trust you’re coming tonight?” Yojirō asked when they stopped at the corner in Nishikatamachi. There
was a class get-together that evening. Sanshirō had forgotten about it. Finally recalling the details, he repliedthat he intended to go.
“Stop by my place before. There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Yojirō had a pen barrel propped
behind his ear, and he seemed in high spirits. Sanshirō accepted his request.
Sanshirō returned to his lodgings and went down to the bath. Refreshed after bathing, he came back to finda picture postcard on his desk. The picture was of a small stream bordered by scraggly grass in a thin strip.
At the edge of the grass were two sheep in repose. On the opposite bank stood a large man with a walking
stick. The man was drawn with a most menacing expression, like some depiction of the devil from Western
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art. For good measure, the kana for “devil” danced around him. On the front side, below Sanshirō’s nameand address, the words “stray sheep” appeared in small letters. Sanshirō knew immediately to whom thisreferred. Furthermore, he was overjoyed that there were two sheep included on the reverse, one of whichmust implicitly be a likeness of himself. It wasn’t just Mineko, it was the two of them. The meaning of
Mineko’s “stray sheep” was finally clear to him.
He thought he should start on Great Dark Void, as he’d promised Yojirō, but he wasn’t in the mood forreading. His attention was fixed on the postcard. It had a flavor of witticism not found in Aesop. There wasalso an air of innocence to it, and something honest too. Most of all, there was something in it that touchedhim.
The quality of the work was extraordinary. Everything was vivid and alive, quite different from thepersimmon tree that Yoshiko had painted -- such were Sanshirō’s impressions.
After a while, Sanshirō finally began reading Great Dark Void. He wasn’t really paying much attention, but
over the first several pages his interest was gradually piqued. Before he knew it he was six pages in, and hecontinued on effortlessly through the entirety of a lengthy twenty seven pages. Only after reading the final
line did he realize he was at the end. He lifted his eyes from the magazine, satisfied in his accomplishment.
However, when he tried in the next moment to recall what he’d read, his mind was blank. So much so that
he almost had to laugh. He only knew that he had read a great deal, and with great enthusiasm. Yojirō wasa gifted writer.
The piece had begun with an assault on contemporary literary scholars, and it had ended with praise forProfessor Hirota. It was particularly severe in disparaging the Western faculty members in the college ofarts and literature. Qualified Japanese nationals should be called up immediately to deliver lectures
becoming of higher academics. Otherwise the university, which represented the pinnacle of scholarship,
would find itself on a level with the temple primary schools of old, nothing more than a mummy swathedin bricks and stone. It would be one thing if there were no capable candidates, but here was Professor Hirota.
The Professor had toiled at the high school level for ten long years, content to teach for meager pay andwith a dearth of recognition. This was a genuine scholar. He was a man representing the new face of global
scholarship, a man intimately connected to Japanese society, and a man worthy of a professorship. -- This,in a nutshell, was all it said. However, this “all it said” was padded excessively with high-sounding prose
and brilliant quips that stretched it to twenty seven pages.
The piece included an abundance of noteworthy passages. “Only old men take pride in a bald head.” Or,“Venus was born of the waves, but no shrewd gentleman is born of the university.” Or, “To regard men oflearning as a product of academia is akin to regarding jellyfish as a product of Tago Bay.” However, there
was nothing more. One particularly curious thing was that, after likening Professor Hirota to a great darkvoid, it likened other scholars to dim round lanterns, incapable of throwing light more than a meter. These
were the very words Professor Hirota had used to describe Yojirō. Then the piece went out of its way toincorporate Yojirō’s comments of the other day, disparaging round lanterns and goose-neck pipes as
outdated relics, of no use to today’s young men.
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Reflecting back on it, Yojirō’s piece was packed with energy. He presumed himself the representative voiceof a new Japan, and he pulled the reader along in this premise. However, there was no meat on the bones. It
was like a war with no base of operation. Furthermore, his style of writing, if so regarded, could easily comeacross as politically intentioned. Sanshirō, green from the country, couldn’t articulate the specific flaws, but
his reflections left him uneasy. He picked up Mineko’s card and gazed again at the two sheep and the devilman. His reaction to this work was wholly agreeable. This agreeable reaction threw his unease with theprose into sharper relief. He contemplated Yojirō’s piece no further. He thought he should reply to Mineko.
Regrettably, he couldn’t draw. He could answer in words, but his words would have to be worthy of her
picture. He couldn’t think what to write. He dawdled away the time until four o’clock.
Sanshirō changed into his formal hakata and set out for Nishikatamachi to call on Yojirō. He entered throughthe side door and found the professor in the hearth room, a small table before him, eating dinner. Yojirō wasby his side, waiting on him attentively.
“How is it professor?” he asked.
The professor had a cheek full of something tough. In a dish on the table were ten reddish-black charreddisks, each the size of a pocket watch.
Sanshirō seated himself and offered his greeting. The professor chewed on busily.
“Here, you should try one too.” Yojirō picked one off the dish with his chopsticks and held it out. Inspecting
it in his hand, Sanshirō identified it as the dried meat of a bakagai clam, broiled in soy.
“Isn’t this an odd thing to be eating?” he asked.
“An odd thing? These are wonderful. Try it. I went and bought these as a treat for the professor since hesaid he’d never had them.”“Where did you buy them?”“Nihonbashi.”
Sanshirō wanted to laugh. It was hard to reconcile this present scene with the tone of Yojirō’s composition.
“What do you think, professor?”“They’re tough.”“Tough, but good, huh? You have to chew thoroughly. That brings out the flavor.”“If I chew till the flavor comes my jaw will go numb. Why’d you go buy such old-fashioned things?”“You don’t like them? It may be they don’t suit your taste. I’ll bet Mineko would appreciate them.”

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“Why is that?” Sanshirō asked.
“She moves at her own pace. No doubt she’d chew and chew till the flavor came out.”“That young lady is calm on the surface, but she’s unmanageable,” interjected the professor.
“That she is. Just like a woman out of Ibsen.”“Ibsen’s women are outwardly rebellious. That young lady is unmanageable at her core. When I said
unmanageable, I didn’t mean in the usual sense. Nonomiya’s sister looks a little unmanageable, but deep
down she possesses a feminine charm. It’s a curious thing.”“It’s an inner turmoil, then, that renders Mineko unmanageable?”
Sanshirō listened to their comments in silence. He didn’t accept what they were saying. First of all, the useof the word “unmanageable” with respect to Mineko left him puzzled.
Yojirō finally went and changed into his hakata. “We’re off,” he called to the professor. The professor wasquietly drinking tea. The two of them left through the front yard. It was already dark out. A few paces past
the gate, Sanshirō engaged Yojirō.
“The professor referred to Mineko as unmanageable.”“He always speaks his mind. Depending on the occasion or situation, he’s likely to say anything. It’s funny
to hear him comment on women, though, a subject on which his knowledge is nil. If one’s never been inlove, how can one understand women?”“Be that as it may, weren’t you in agreement with him?”“Yes, in regard to unmanageability. Why?”“In what way is Mineko unmanageable?”“It’s nothing specific that you can put your finger on. Anyway, all modern women are unmanageable. It’s
not just her.”“Didn’t you liken her to a woman out of Ibsen?”“I did.”“Which woman from Ibsen did you mean?”“Which one ... take your pick.”
Sanshirō, of course, was unconvinced, but he pressed it no further. They continued for several paces insilence. Then Yojirō suddenly elaborated. “It’s not just Mineko whom I associate with Ibsen. Most all the
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women of today fit the mold. The same for any man who breathes this modern air, even just a single breath.
Very few, though, express it through freedom of action. Most of us are harboring frustrations.”“I don’t harbor frustrations.”“If you think you don’t then you’re deceiving yourself. -- No society, after all, is entirely free of deficiencies.”“I suppose not.”“It follows then, that those within a society feel some form of discontent. Ibsen’s characters sense
deficiencies in the modern social system most acutely. Little by little, we’re growing to sense them too.”“You really think so?”“Not just me. All men of intellect think so.”“Is your Professor Hirota of the same mind?”“I’m not sure what the professor thinks.”“Just now, though, didn’t he say that Mineko, while calm on the surface, is unmanageable? If we follow his
thinking, it seems that he credits her calm exterior to her social skills. So doesn’t that imply, then, that it’sa deep-seated discontent that renders her unmanageable?”“I see. -- The man really is insightful. Looking at it that way, he’s sheer brilliance.”
Yojirō transitioned suddenly to praise for Professor Hirota. Sanshirō would have liked to discuss Mineko’s
disposition further, but Yojirō had outmaneuvered him.
Yojirō spoke again. “Actually, what I wanted to talk to you about ... -- Wait. First of all, did you read Great
Dark Void? If you didn’t read it then you won’t understand what I’m after.”“After we parted today, I went home and read it.”
“What did you think?”“What did the professor say about it?”“He hasn’t read it. He doesn’t even know about it.”“Well, then, it was certainly engaging. -- But it was a bit like drinking beer to quell an appetite.”“Good enough. As long as it evokes a reaction. That’s why I used an assumed name. This is just practice.
When the time is right, I’ll publish under my real name. -- Anyway, here’s what I have in mind.”

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Yojirō’s plan was as follows. -- At the gathering that evening he would deplore, to any sympathetic ear, thelethargic state of their department. Sanshirō was to deplore it likewise. It was, in fact, lethargic, so others
would deplore it too. Then, they would all formulate revitalization measures. Yojirō would propose therecruitment of suitable Japanese national faculty members as a pressing need. Everyone would agree. It was
the right thing to do, so agreement was a given. Next, the discussion would turn to possible candidates. At
that time, Yojirō would offer up Professor Hirota’s name. Sanshirō’s role was to back him up by praising
the professor profusely. Otherwise certain fellows, who knew that Yojirō boarded with the professor, mightstir up misgivings. Yojirō was, in actuality, the professor’s boarder, so they could call him disingenuous if
they liked. However, he couldn’t risk landing the professor in hot water. He had other comrades too, so it
should go well, but every additional ally improved their chances. Sanshirō should speak up as much as
possible. Anyway, when they finally arrived at a unanimous consensus they’d select a representative to go
see the dean and the president. All of this might not transpire in a single evening. It didn’t need to. They’dplay it by ear ...
Yojirō was a gifted speaker. Regrettably, though, his rambling often robbed his words of gravity. After awhile, one wondered if his earnest persuasion might not be all in jest. However, his initiative was not without
merit, and Sanshirō, for the most part, expressed agreement. His only objection was that he found theapproach somewhat lacking in tact. On hearing this, Yojirō drew to a stop in the middle of the road. They
were just before the Morikawachō shrine gate.
“You talk about lack of tact, but what I’m doing is nothing more or less than an insertion of human effort toensure things run their natural course. Attempting some foolish scheme that subverts the natural order ofthings is fundamentally different. In my case, tact is irrelevant. It’s not about tact in poor form. Tact for poor
ends is poor form.”
Sanshirō was completely nonplussed. He wanted to object, but he couldn’t find the words. His mind was
fixed on points of Yojirō’s that he hadn’t thought of. He couldn’t help being impressed.
“I can see what you mean.” He gave an ambiguous answer, and they resumed walking together. As theypassed through the university’s main gate, the world before them suddenly broadened. Grand buildings
stood all about in silhouette. Above their crisp rooflines was a crystal clear sky. Endless stars were visible.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Sanshirō remarked.
Yojirō walked several paces with his gaze skyward. “Hey,” he called out to Sanshirō.
“What?” Sanshirō answered, assuming Yojirō would continue their earlier discussion.
“When you see a sky like this, what do you feel?” Yojirō asked uncharacteristically.
Yojirō was certain to ridicule a trite response like “infinity” or “eternity.” Sanshirō remained silent.
“What are we really accomplishing? Maybe tomorrow I’ll drop it all. My writing of Great Dark Void wasnothing but wasted time.”
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“What happened all of the sudden?”“That’s what I feel when I see this sky. -- Tell me, have you ever fallen for a woman?”Sanshirō could not provide an immediate reply.
“Women are frightful,” Yojirō remarked.
“I know they’re frightful,” Sanshirō replied.
Yojirō burst out laughing. His laughter rang loudly through the still of the evening. “What do you know?
How could you know?”
Yojirō’s rebuke left Sanshirō dispirited.
“The weather will be fine again tomorrow. Field day should be great fun. Lovely young ladies will turn out
in droves. You should come and see.”
They continued through the darkness to the student assembly hall. Electric light shone from within.
They wound their way through a wood-planked corridor and entered the main hall. Early arrivals had alreadyclustered into three groups of varying sizes. There were also some others off to the side, quietly perusing
the hall’s collection of magazines and newspapers. Conversation could be heard on all sides, and it seemed
there were more conversations than there were groups. The tone of the conversations was relatively subdued.
The tobacco smoke that curled toward the ceiling was far more animated.
By and by, more arrived. Shadowy forms emerged intermittently from the darkness, appearing in the drafty
corridor. One by one they set foot into the light of the room. Sometimes five or six in succession would step
into the light. After a while, the party was more or less assembled.
Since their arrival, Yojirō had moved busily about the smoke-filled room, engaging in quiet conversations.
Sanshirō followed his movements, thinking he must be setting his plan into motion.
A short while later, the secretary called in a loud voice for everyone to take a seat. The table, of course, hadbeen prepared in advance. In a mass of confusion they all took seats. There was no assigned order. Dinner
began.
Back in Kumamoto, Sanshirō had only had red saké. Red saké was a low grade of saké brewed locally. If
you were a Kumamoto student, out for a drink, then it went without saying that you ordered red saké. On
occasions when they dined out, there was a beef house they frequented. Rumor had it that the beef at that
beef house might be horse meat. The students would grab a handful of meat off the dish and slap it onto thewall. If it slid, it was beef. If it stuck, it was horse. The process was akin to divination. To Sanshirō, thisevening’s formal gathering was a novel experience. He worked his knife and fork with pleasure, and hechased his bites down with generous gulps of beer.

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“This assembly hall food is awful,” the fellow next to Sanshirō remarked. He was a mild-mannered fellow
with close-cropped hair and gold-rimmed glasses.
“I suppose it is.” Sanshirō offered a lukewarm response. If he’d been talking to Yojirō, he would have
replied honestly that to a fellow like him from the country, this food was excellent. In this case, however,
he refrained. He did not want to be misconstrued as sarcastic.
“Which high school are you from?” the other fellow asked.
“Kumamoto.”“Kumamoto? A cousin of mine was in Kumamoto. Said it was a dreadful place.”“It’s not very cultured.”As the two of them were talking, shrill voices erupted from further down the table. Yojirō was conversing
energetically with the fellows around him. The words “de te fabula” occasionally punctuated his speech.
Sanshirō had no idea what these words meant. However, Yojirō’s listeners burst into laughter each time hespoke them. Yojirō prattled on in high spirits, with, “... de te fabula, young men like ourselves of this newage ...” A refined fellow of fair complexion, diagonally across from Sanshirō, rested his knife for a momentand regarded Yojirō’s group. Finally he smiled and commented half-jokingly in French, “Il a le diable au
corps (he’s possessed by the devil).” The boisterous group took no notice. In a triumphant toast, four cupsof beer were raised together high in the air.
“That guy’s quite a character,” said the student next to Sanshirō with the gold-rimmed glasses.
“Yes. He’s very outgoing.”“He once treated me to curry rice at Yodomiken. He approached me, even though we weren’t acquainted,
and insisted I come along. In the end, he all but dragged me there ...”The student laughed aloud. Sanshirō thus learned that he wasn’t the only one whom Yojirō had treated tocurry rice at Yodomiken.
Finally coffee was served. One of the students rose from his seat. Yojirō applauded enthusiastically, andothers soon followed suit.
The student who rose wore a new black uniform and sported a mature mustache. He was a tall man, and hecut an imposing figure as he stood. He started into what sounded like a formal address.
“We’ve gathered here together in camaraderie and enjoyed this evening to its fullest. That in itself is awonderful thing. However, I’ve realized, to my own surprise, that this gathering harbors a deeper
significance. Beyond the pleasure of each other’s company, our time tonight may well serve as a catalyst
for great things to follow, and that’s what compels me to speak. Our gathering is much like any other. Exceptthat the forty or so gathered here, drinking beer and coffee, are not like any others. In the time that we’ve
Sanshirō – Chapter 6 – Sōseki Project10spent, from that first glass of beer to this final cup of coffee, we can already sense the expanding role of ourown destinies.”“Political freedom was gained long ago. Freedom of expression was also secured in the past. But the word
‘freedom’ should not be confined to just these superficial realities. I believe that we, as young men of thisnew age, have arrived at the critical point where the greatest freedom, freedom of thought, must be fought
for and won.”“We young men cannot live under the oppression of the old Japan. At the same time, we’ve reached ajuncture where the world must know that we will not live under oppression from the modern West. To us,
the young men of this new age, oppression from the modern West, in regard to society and also in regard toliterature, is no less offensive than the oppression of the old Japan.”“We are scholars of Western literature. However, scholarship of Western literature is fundamentallydifferent from subservience. We do not study Western literature in order to be shackled by it. We study
rather to emancipate minds from bondage. We possess the confidence and determination to refuse any
literary scholarship, however coercively pressed on us, that is not aligned with our principals.”“Our confidence and determination are what set up apart from others. Literature is not a technical trade. Nor
is it administrative work. It’s the motive force of human society, touching directly on the fundamental
meaning of humanity. That’s why we study literature, that’s what imbues us with the aforementioned
confidence and determination, and that’s why we can assign extraordinary import to tonight’s gathering.”“Our society is in the midst of a great transition. Literature, which is a product of society, is also in a stateof transition. Riding the waves of change, we must unite our individual efforts into a greater whole. We
must enhance, develop, and expand our individual destinies. And we must shape literature in accord with
our ideals. The beer and coffee we’ve consumed tonight, if it moves us even one step closer to realizing ourlatent potential, has paid for itself a hundred times over.”This was the essence of the speech. As soon as it ended, the entire gathering erupted in applause. Sanshirō
was one of those applauding most ardently. At this point, Yojirō suddenly rose.
“De te fabula. Who cares how many tens of thousands of words Shakespeare used, and who cares how many
thousands of gray hairs Ibsen had? I don’t imagine any of us being taken in by such asinine lectures. My
concern, rather, is that these lectures are a terrible affront to this institution. It’s imperative that we bring in
new talent, capable of instructing the young men of this new age. Westerners won’t do. First of all, theylack societal clout ...”
The full assembly applauded again. They all enjoyed a hearty laugh as well. A fellow next to Yojirō
proposed that they drink a toast to “de te fabula.” The previous speaker immediately seconded the motion.
Unfortunately, all the beer glasses were empty. Yojirō assured them they would have their toast, and hedashed off toward the kitchen. The serving staff appeared with saké. After the toast, someone said, “Anotherone, this time to the Great Dark Void.” The fellows seated near Yojirō laughed. Yojirō scratched his head.

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When the gathering was adjourned, the young men dispersed into the dark of the night, and Sanshirō asked
Yojirō, “What does ‘de te fabula’ mean?”“It’s Greek.”
Yojirō offered no further explanation, and Sanshirō posed no further questions. The two of them returned
home, walking beneath a beautiful night sky.
The next day, as predicted, the weather was fine. It had been an unusually mild year, and this day inparticular was unseasonably warm. Sanshirō went to bathe in the morning. In these times of fervent activity,
the bath in the morning hours was virtually deserted. In the changing room, Sanshirō saw a signboard for
the Mitsukoshi dry goods store. An attractive woman was painted on the sign. Her face was somewhat like
Mineko’s, but the expression in her eyes was different. Her teeth weren’t visible. The two things about
Mineko that struck Sanshirō most were the look in her eyes and her even teeth. According to Yojirō, she
was slightly buck toothed, and that was why her teeth showed so prominently. Sanshirō disagreed. ...
Sanshirō considered such things as he soaked, hardly bothering to wash. Since the prior evening, hisawareness of himself as a “young man of the new age” was suddenly stronger. However, while his awarenesswas stronger, his body was unchanged. Compared to most, he was inclined to take it easy on days off. Today,
he would venture out after lunch to see the track and field competition.
Sanshirō, by nature, was not fond of physical activity. Back home, he’d been rabbit hunting several times.
He’d also once served as the flagman at his high school’s rowing competition. He was rebuked severely for
mixing up his red and green flags. It started when the professor in charge of the starting gun failed to fire iton the final heat. Or, rather, he fired it, but it made no sound, leaving Sanshirō flustered. Since that time,
Sanshirō had kept his distance from athletics. Today, though, was the first competition since his arrival in
Tōkyō, and he was determined to go watch. Yojirō had strongly recommended attending, though less forthe competition and more for the ladies in attendance. Nonomiya’s younger sister would probably be there,
and Mineko would likely be with her. He would put in an appearance and give them his regards.
Shortly after noon, Sanshirō departed. The entrance to the event was in a corner of the athletic grounds on
the south end. Large Japanese and British flags waved in the air. Display of the Japanese flag made perfectsense, but the British flag left Sanshirō puzzled. He imagined it might be in honor of the Anglo-Japanese
Alliance. Then again, he had no idea what connection the Anglo-Japanese Alliance could have to a trackand field competition at the university.
The athletic grounds were a rectangular lawn. Being deep into autumn, the color of the grass had largely
faded. The spectator stands were on the west side. They were bordered by a large berm in the back and afence in the front. The spectators, by plan, were corralled into the space between. It was a narrow space, anduncomfortably crowded by the great many people who’d turned out to watch. Fortunately, the weather was
mild and there was no chill in the air. Many of the spectators, though, were wearing coats. At the same time,
many of the women had arrived with parasols.

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Sanshirō saw, to his disappointment, that the ladies’ seats were sectioned off and access was restricted. Also,
there were many distinguished-looking gentlemen present, dressed in frock coats and such. He felt himself,by comparison, of little import. His pride as a “young man of the new age” was taken down a notch or two.
Even still, he didn’t neglect to survey the ladies’ section through the sea of heads. It was hard to see clearly
from his angle, but the ladies, exquisitely dressed, made a lovely sight. From a distance, all of the faces werebeautiful. At the same time, none stood out as exceptional. They were beautiful as a whole. A warm kind ofcharm that men cannot but revere. To Sanshirō’s further disappointment, no single woman triumphed overanother. However, he continued searching, keeping up his hopes. The two of them were indeed present,
together in the very front, close to the fence.
Sanshirō, having found what he’d come to see, relaxed a little. Just then, five or six men came flying into
sight. It was the finish of the 200-meter dash. The finish line was just in front of Mineko and Yoshiko, andthe finishers were right before their noses. As Sanshirō gazed toward the girls, the valiant contenders
couldn’t help but intrude on his field of view. The rest of the runners arrived, and the five or six became
twelve or thirteen. All were gasping for breath. Comparing his own disposition to that of these athletes,
Sanshirō was amazed at the dissimilarity. What compelled them to run so with total abandon? On the other
hand, the company of ladies seemed greatly taken with them. And among the ladies, Mineko and Yoshiko
were as taken as any. Sanshirō felt an urge to try running. The first-place finisher, in purple shorts, stoodfacing the ladies. On closer observation, it looked like the student who’d spoken at their gathering of thenight before. Any fellow that tall was bound to finish first. The official in charge of measurement recorded
a time of 25.74 seconds on the blackboard. Then he tossed aside his chalk and turned toward the spectators.
It was Nonomiya. He was dressed, uncharacteristically, in a solid black frock coat. With an official’s badge
on his chest, he cut a sharp figure. He took out a handkerchief, dusted off his sleeve, and crossed the grassfrom the blackboard toward the stands. He stopped directly in front of Mineko and Yoshiko. Bending overthe low fence of the ladies’ section, he called out to the girls. Mineko rose and walked to meet him. They
talked for a bit across the fence. Suddenly, Mineko turned back around, beaming with a broad smile.
Sanshirō watched them attentively from the distance. Next he saw Yoshiko rise from her seat and approach
the fence. The three of them stood together. Out on the lawn, the shot put competition started.
Nothing requires more power than the shot put. And few things requiring such power are of less interest.
True to its name, there’s nothing more to it than putting a shot. No skill is involved. Nonomiya, from hisplace by the fence, grinned as he watched. Then, probably realizing he was blocking people’s view, hemoved away and withdrew onto the lawn. The young ladies also returned to their seats. From time to time
the shot was launched. Sanshirō, from where he watched, had no way of telling how far it went. The wholething was asinine. Still, he stood there patiently. When it finally ended, Nonomiya returned to the blackboard
and recorded 11.38 meters.
After that came another race, then the long jump. Next the hammer throw began, and Sanshirō found hispatience at an end. Each participant should hold his own event in private. Track and field was not forspectators. Sanshirō even decided that the ladies’ enthusiasm must be somehow contrived. He slipped outof the crowd and up the berm on the back side. His way was blocked by tarps and rope. He doubled backdown to the graveled area. A few others, who’d stolen out of the event, strolled here and there. Among themwere lavishly dressed ladies. Sanshirō turned to his right and climbed a trail to the top of the hill. At the top,
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where the trail ended, was a large boulder. He sat down on the boulder and gazed over the edge of the highcliff to the pond below. A cheer erupted from down on the grounds.
Sanshirō sat on the boulder for five minutes, thinking about nothing in particular. Finally deciding to moveon, he rose and turned on his heels. Through the faded maple leaves at the base of the hill, he spied the two
young ladies. They were walking together, skirting the bottom of the rise.
Sanshirō looked down at the two of them from above. They emerged from among the branches and stepped
into the bright sun. If he kept quiet, they would walk on without noticing. He thought to call out to them,but decided he should move closer. He took several quick steps across the grass, descending toward the footof the hill. As he started down, one of them happened to glance his way. Sanshirō stopped. In truth, he
wasn’t in a mood to engage with ladies. The track and field competition had left him a little sour.
“Of all places ...” Yoshiko called out. She laughed in surprise. This girl seemed to find great fascination ineven the most mundane things. At the same time, one could imagine her shrugging off the exotic as though
it were commonplace. Her manner was never oppressive, and she always put one at ease. As he stood there,
it struck Sanshirō that this disposition must spring from those large black eyes and their lustrous pupils.
Mineko stopped too. She looked at Sanshirō. In her eyes, for the first time, was no sense of silent appeal.
She could as well have been gazing up at a tall tree. In Sanshirō’s mind, he was viewing an extinguishedlamp. He remained where he was, riveted. Mineko didn’t move either.
“Why aren’t you watching the games?” Yoshiko inquired from below.
“I was watching, but I lost interest, so I came up here.”
Yoshiko turned back toward Mineko. Mineko showed no reaction.
“And what about you two?” Sanshirō continued, “It seemed you were awfully taken with the athletics.” He
spoke in a strong voice, tinged with a hint of censure. This time, Mineko smiled faintly in response. Sanshirō
didn’t know how to read her smile. He took a few steps closer.
“Are you heading home already?”
Neither of them answered. Sanshirō took a few more steps in their direction.
“You’re going somewhere?”“Yes, just for a bit.” Mineko said in a soft voice. Sanshirō could hardly hear. He descended the rest of theway. He didn’t inquire further, but just stopped there next to them. The sound of cheering rose from thefield.
“It’s the high jump,” said Yoshiko. “I wonder what height they cleared.”
Mineko gave a slight smile. Sanshirō remained silent. He had no intention of commenting on the high jump.
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“Was there something of interest on the hilltop?” Mineko asked.
There was nothing up there but the boulder and cliff edge. Nothing anyone would take interest in.
“Nothing at all.”“Really?” she said as though unconvinced.
“Let’s go see!” Yoshiko interjected cheerfully.
“You mean you’ve never been up there?” Her companion asked in a deliberate manner.
“Come on, let’s go!”Yoshiko started up. The other two followed after. Yoshiko went as far as the edge of the grass and turned
around. “It’s a precipice,” she called, using grandiose language. “Looks like the place from which Sappho
might have jumped, don’t you think?”
Mineko and Sanshirō both laughed. At the same time, Sanshirō had no idea from what kind of place Sappho
was purported to have jumped.
“Why not give it a try?” Mineko called back.
“Me? Should I jump? But the water’s so dirty.” So joking, Yoshiko came back from the edge.
The two young ladies finally started to discuss their plans.
“You’re going to go?” Mineko asked.
“Yes. What about you?” Yoshiko replied.
“I don’t know.”“Either way is fine. I’ll just be a bit, so why not wait here?”“Alright.”
They finally settled things. Sanshirō asked what it was all about. They explained that Yoshiko, since they
were in the area, had wanted to stop and pay her respects to a nurse at the hospital. Mineko had also thought
to call on a nurse she’d grown close to this past summer when a relative was hospitalized, but this was oflesser importance.
Yoshiko, in her candid and lighthearted manner, called out that she’d return shortly and descended the hill
at a quick pace. There was no reason to stop her, and there was no necessity to follow, so the other two
remained behind as a matter of course. Given the passive disposition of both, they were rather left behindthan chose to remain.
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Sanshirō sat back down on the boulder. Mineko remained standing. The autumn sun reflected off the muddy
surface of the pond. In the middle of the water was a small island with two trees. Branches of green pineand faded maple intertwined artfully, just as in a manicured box garden. Beyond the island, where the water
touched the far shore, dense foliage reflected darkly. From the hilltop, Mineko pointed to the dark shadows
under the branches.
“Do you know that tree?” she asked.
“That’s a chinquapin oak.”She laughed. “I see you remembered.”“The nurse from that day is the one you thought to call on?”“Yes.”“Then she’s not Yoshiko’s nurse.”“No, she’s the chinquapin oak nurse.”
This time Sanshirō laughed.
“It was over there, wasn’t it, where you stood with the nurse and held up your fan?”
They were on a height that towered over the water. Further down, and running off to the right, was a lower
rise with no connection to their own. They could see large pines, a corner of the old estate building, tarps
backing the athletic meet, and the gently sloping lawn.
“The heat that day was terrible. It was too hot in the hospital, so we came outside. -- How did you come tobe there, crouched down in that spot?”“On account of the heat. That was the day I first met Nonomiya. Afterward, I was wandering the grounds,
feeling somewhat down.”“Meeting Nonomiya left you feeling down?”“No, it wasn’t that.” Sanshirō looked at Mineko and started to explain, then suddenly jumped to a different
subject. “Speaking of Nonomiya, he’s hard at work today, isn’t he?”“Yes, and in fancy dress too. -- It must be killing him. And he has to be there morning to night.”“He seem quite satisfied with himself.”“Who? Nonomiya? -- You can’t be serious.”“Why not?”Sanshirō – Chapter 6 – Sōseki Project16

“Because officiating at an athletic meet is not something he’d find satisfaction in.”Sanshirō changed the subject again. “Earlier, he walked over to you and said something.”“During the competition?”“Yes, by the fence surrounding the field.” After speaking, Sanshirō suddenly regretted broaching this subject.
“Yes,” she replied, then carefully studied his face. Her lower lip curled a bit in a hint of a smile. Sanshirō
was in agony. Just as he was about to redirect the conversation, she spoke. “You haven’t responded to my
postcard.”
Sanshirō, caught off guard, answered, “I’m going to.” She didn’t pursue it further.
“Do you know the artist Haraguchi?” she continued.
“No, I don’t.”“I see.”“Why?”“Well, Haraguchi is here today, sketching the event. Nonomiya came and warned us to watch out, lest we
end up caricaturized.”
Mineko came over and sat down next to him. Sanshirō felt himself a fool.
“Will Yoshiko wait and go home with her brother tonight?”“Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Starting yesterday, she’s living with me.”Sanshirō learned now that Nonomiya’s mother had returned to the country. As soon as she’d departed,
Nonomiya had cleared out of his place in Ōkubo and become a boarder. They’d agreed that, for theforeseeable future, Yoshiko would stay with Mineko and continue her schooling.
Sanshirō was surprised at Nonomiya’s nonchalance. If he was that willing to be a boarder again, then why
had he taken a house in the first place? For one thing, what did he do with his household wares - the kettle,
pans, and buckets? Sanshirō thought about such details, but they weren’t worth voicing, so he refrained
from comment. By relinquishing his household and reverting to student-like living, Nonomiya had
effectively backtracked on the path to establishing himself in society. To Sanshirō, this was a welcome bitof reassurance. On the other hand, Yoshiko was now with Mineko, and this brother and sister were
inseparable. It was a given that Nonomiya would call on Yoshiko often, and his relationship with Mineko
would evolve in the process. It was also conceivable that the chance would thus arise for Nonomiya to once
again quit his lodgings, this time for good.

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Sanshirō kept company with Mineko as myriad futures flashed before his mind’s eye. His thoughts wereunsettled, and he struggled greatly to maintain his outward composure. Much to his relief, Yoshiko returned.
The two young ladies talked of returning to the competition. They decided, however, that with the short
autumn day getting late, and with a growing chill in the outdoor air, they should head home.
Sanshirō thought to take his leave and return to his lodgings, but the three of them talked as they walked off,
and no clear-cut point for disengagement arose. He felt that the two of them were sweeping him along. He
also felt that he wanted to be swept along. Together, they skirted the pond, passed the library, and headed
for the Red Gate, away from Sanshirō’s lodgings.
Sanshirō turned to Yoshiko. “I hear that your brother is back to boarding.”“Yes, he’s finally pawned me off on Mineko. Terrible, isn’t it?” Yoshiko answered, looking for a little
sympathy.
Before Sanshirō could comment, Mineko spoke up. “It’s hard for us to understand a man like Nonomiya.
His mind works at a higher level, engaged in ground-breaking ideas.”
Mineko praised Nonomiya warmly. Yoshiko listened in silence.
True devotion to scholarship meant a life of austerity, away from the lure of worldly affairs. For a man like
Nonomiya, whose work was known internationally, to reside in ordinary student housing was an act of great
professional dedication. The poorer the housing, the more admirable was his sacrifice. -- Such was the gistas Mineko continued lauding Nonomiya.
At the Red Gate, Sanshirō took leave of the two ladies. As he headed for Oiwake he began to think. -Mineko was absolutely right. Sanshirō compared himself to Nonomiya and saw a world of difference. Herehe was, fresh in from the country and just starting his university studies. He had no significant scholarshipto his name, and his personal views were still evolving. There was no reason for Mineko to respect him likeshe respected Nonomiya. Now that he thought about it, perhaps she took him for a fool. Earlier, when hesaid he’d climbed the hill because the meet was dull, she’d asked in all seriousness if there were somethingof interest up there. He hadn’t noticed at the time, but maybe she’d been purposely mocking him. -- Sanshirōreflected now on her manner and language in each of their past encounters. In every case, he could imagine
some negative nuance. He stopped in the middle of the road, his eyes cast downward and face turning red.
Suddenly, as he lifted his gaze, Yojirō approached with the student who’d spoken at the prior night’s
gathering.
Yojirō greeted Sanshirō with a simple nod. The other student removed his cap in salutation. “What did you
think of last night? Don’t ever let them take you in,” the other student remarked with a grin as they walked
by on their way.

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