Kon Kon Kon: Keiichi Arawi and Akio Tomizawa

Kon

"Kon Kon" is a coined phrase that catches the eye in this haiku.

The source is from Akio Tomizawa's haiku collection, "Ten no Ookami" (Wolf of Heaven).

It is boorish to explain, but let us try to absorb the beauty of these seventeen syllables.

“Kon Kon” is a kakekotoba (pivot word), overlapping the "kon" (deep blue) color of the Japanese paper used for binding old books with the onomatopoeia "kon-kon" for falling snow. "Furu" is also a pivot word, overlapping "furu" (to fall) for snow and "furu" (to pass) for time.

The peony snow outside the window suddenly reflected in the eyes of the author turning the pages of an old book. If it had been "kon-kon to furu botan-yuki" (falling with a kon-kon sound), one would only need to imagine that scene.

But it is "Kon Kon." It is "Kon Kon to furu." Thanks to this, I am simultaneously awakened to the fantasy of deep blue-colored, strange peony snow falling down.

In the universe of seventeen syllables, "Kon Kon," "furu," and "botan-yuki" have become neighbors. Because of this, the image of the peony snow has been invaded by a deep, otherworldly blue. Snow reflected in the author's eyes.Blue snow. Elegance and surrealism, two contradictory worlds, coexist under a single haiku.

Blue snow falls. It falls and falls, piling up steadily. The whole area is dyed in blue, a world of deep blue dye.

It is surely beautiful, but it is a product of an otherworldly imagination.

That is why I hum the opening of the children's song, "Yuki ya kon-kon."

The etymology of "kon-kon" is "Kon-kon (Come, come)".

Snow, come, come. Kon Kon, come, come.

Kon Kon

Speaking of otherworldly snow, I am reminded of "Sasameyuki" (The Makioka Sisters). Not the novel by Junichiro Tanizaki.The illustration by Keiichi Arawi instead.

February 2004. Arawi, then twenty-six, drew a picture of a massive amount of capsules falling from the sky, likening the capsules to snow. He used it as the cover illustration for a doujin manga collection titled "Sasameyuki." This was a work from before Arawi had made his commercial debut.

While "sasameyuki" refers to fine, delicate snow, here, perhaps he imagined "slender snow" from the impression of the characters, and further leaped in his imagination to capsules.

In addition, he wrote down the poem quoted above and included it at the beginning of "Sasameyuki" (Light Snow). How should this poem be interpreted?

If we consider it to reflect the author's state of mind, the "dream" can be thought of as referring to the dream of becoming a professional manga artist.

As seen in his later autobiographical manga "Mangamichi" (Manga Road), Arawi in his adolescence gave up on being a manga artist and spent his days having discarded his "longing". However, at the age of twenty-five, around 2003 when he began exhibiting his work at the doujinshi convention Comitia, he reclaimed his "dream".

The "same dream" he had "some years ago, at a different time and place," the world of a professional manga artist that he had "longed for, vast and burning".

It was "Sasameyuki" that was the culmination of self-expression created by a young man who was not yet anyone.

Once the "dream" in the poem is understood, the "sprout" can be inferred to be a creative work.

“Sprouted from my right hand.” The right hand here is the hand that holds the pen. He likened the crystallization of his own talent, which he believed would be born from his right hand and eventually bloom, to a "sprout."

Then, what is "that"? Something that "touched my body" and made a "sprout" bloom from his right hand. It is likely the passion that drives one toward writing manga.

Passion "fell from the sky" like a grace. Arawi in his youth did not miss the opportunity to "touch" that passion, created manga, and stepped forward into the "continuation of the dream."

The "that which fell from the sky" surely takes the form of a capsule pill. The young man who had been smoldering, unable to fully discard his "dream" of being a manga artist, was healed by touching that passion. It was natural for that passion to be depicted in the form of a capsule.

And the large number of capsules raining down from the sky in the cover illustration of "Sasameyuki" will surely become a grace that heals someone else, a passion that drives a smoldering person toward the "continuation of the dream".

The capsule pills depicted here are snow that is not of this world. However, they are also snow that truly exists. People call that snow by the name of passion.

That passion exists, and that passion heals wounds, is something that Arawi himself in his youth proves.

Every time I think about this snow that is not cold, my heart burns.

Navy Navy Navy

I want to read "Keiichi Arawi" from this haiku.

Just as the "classic" titled "The Makioka Sisters," written twenty-two years ago, did, I too want to make snow fall that is not cold.

Snow that is not of this world. Yet, snow that certainly exists.

Let us call the name of this navy-blue snow passion.

Snow, falling, falling. Navy navy, falling, falling.