Non-Fiction Part 20: Biographies of Eccentrics and Greats in Fantastic Literature - Memoirs of a Kokusho Kankokai Editor-in-Chief by Junichi Isozaki
I was once advised that a good book is one that, once you start reading, becomes so interesting that you change your plans to keep reading until you finish it, and this was exactly that kind of book.
The author records his memoirs of the extraordinary eccentrics and great figures he encountered as an editor—writers, translators, editors, and publishers who shine like stars to those interested in fantastic literature—including Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, Shuntaro Matsuyama, Suehiro Tanemura, Sumiko Yagawa, Osamu Hashimoto, Tomohiko Sunaga, Sadanosuke Tanabe, Kimiyoshi Yura, Motoyoshi Sone, Takenori Nanjo, Yuko Yamao, and Kesao Sato.
There are many interesting anecdotes, but the story of how Sumiko Yagawa kept the love letters from a young Tatsuhiko Shibusawa even after their divorce reminded me of how Jun Tsuji, who lived a wandering life in his later years, also kept the love letters of his own ex-wife, Noe Ito.
In a roundtable discussion for the Eureka special issue commemorating Sumiko Yagawa after her death, Shuntaro Matsuyama spoke of his memories of her, criticizing her quite harshly yet accurately. However, he also spoke with a level-headedness, acknowledging her work where it was due, saying that if young people were reading Yagawa independently of Shibusawa, that was the best thing, and stating that he never thought of her as mentally immature. I was left with the impression that he is a man of human kindness, with powers of observation and insight that remain focused on what is important, and the chapter on Shuntaro Matsuyama in this book left the same impression.
When a certain editor, with whom both Matsuyama and the author had a long relationship, began to flourish as a literary critic, the author told Matsuyama something to the effect of, 'It is my own failing as an editor that I completely failed to see what an amazing writer they were.' Matsuyama replied nonchalantly, 'Well, that’s a little different from saying you didn't have an eye for talent, Isozaki-san. That person worked hard to hide their brilliance from others so they wouldn't be found out. It’s only natural that you couldn't see through that.' The fact that he could say 'that’s a little different' is something not many people could say. You can only say that if you are watching closely. It is a kindness that shows, even though he is just speaking plainly, that he recognizes the author's own merits, coming from a man who observed and understood everything but kept it to himself.
I mean, does Shuntaro Matsuyama have a theory on Inagaki Taruho's 'Miroku'? I want to read that.
I haven't read much of Suehiro Tanemura's books for some reason, but after reading this anecdote, I suddenly want to read them all.
The conversation turned into something like an appraisal of the editors (Tanemura being one of them) for the 'Collection of Japanese Fantastic Literature' that we were preparing to publish at the time, and he said, 'It’s certainly a sign of good judgment to have appointed Sunaga and Horikiri as editors instead of those people who go around spouting structuralism or whatever, but in the end, they don't even know who their own enemies are.'
They don't even know who their own enemies are!!
I was obsessed with Osamu Hashimoto when I was young and I don't know how many books of his I read. I read everything I could get my hands on. However, I have never read a single one of his novels. I think he is a person who is very good at explaining things. I am grateful to him for helping me learn in such an enjoyable way.
Among the vast amount of Hashimoto's writing that I read, my favorite piece is 'Portrait of a Murdered Writer,' his essay on Ryunosuke Akutagawa. It is a masterpiece that I have reread many times and still want to read today.
This essay is the commentary for the Ryunosuke Akutagawa volume of the 'Collection of Japanese Fantastic Literature' published by Kokusho Kankokai, and the editor was also Osamu Hashimoto. It is said that Hashimoto reread all of Akutagawa's works for this book.
Of the nine editors of the 'Collection of Japanese Fantastic Literature,' seven were people connected to Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, and Osamu Hashimoto was one of the few who was not. The author writes that the reason he appointed Hashimoto was, 'In truth, there is no other way to put it than that I just thought Osamu Hashimoto was good.' Thank you for appointing Osamu Hashimoto!!!
And, unfortunately, 'It seems that based on the work he did at this time, perhaps in the latter half of the nineties, Hashimoto-san had plans to do a five-volume selection of Ryunosuke Akutagawa with Kawade Shobo Shinsha. The selection of works was complete, and a notice of publication had even appeared in industry magazines, but in the end, not a single volume was ever published.' I would have loved to read that. A new commentary on Akutagawa by Osamu Hashimoto.
Regarding Tomohiko Sunaga, the author writes, 'For those who aspire to be editors, there are special writers you have loved since you were a student and whom you decide you must get a manuscript from if you ever get the job, and for me, Tomohiko Sunaga was at the top of that list.'
For the author, who stayed with Sunaga until the very end, even helping to organize the belongings left in his room after he passed away, this chapter about a special writer is a heavy and rewarding read. I happen to have read Sunaga's works in bulk and also read the Eureka special issue commemorating him, so I knew many of the stories, but it still carried weight. The aftertaste is not bad. It is a good piece of writing that makes you feel that there were many things that happened, including things that were not written and things that could not be written.
I also remember the conversation between Masao Higashi and the author in the Eureka special issue commemorating Tomohiko Sunaga being good. I wonder which one of them said that Tomohiko Sunaga's work was, in a sense, like glam rock for its time. I remember it because I thought it made sense.
The author also agrees with Higashi's statement in that conversation that 'Tomohiko Sunaga embodied a dying culture, including the use of old kanji and kana, so he might have been the last person to inherit a certain kind of orthodoxy.'
I think Sunaga's eye for tanka poetry was outstanding, and there is no one in Sunaga's generation who has such an eye for it. In that sense, I also think he was a person who 'inherited the orthodoxy,' whether he was the last one or not.
The chapter on Sadanosuke Tanabe (born 1905), Kimiyoshi Yura (born early Showa era), and Motoyoshi Sone (born 1912)—great scholars and famous translators of the good old days who were also seniors to the author—is refreshing to the soul.
Takenori Nanjo is known as a writer and a famous translator, but I have kept his name in mind ever since there was a time when I was researching something and Takenori Nanjo was the only one who said anything sensible.
Therefore, I enjoyed reading the chapter on Takenori Nanjo, who is the same age as the author and has been a close friend since they were young. It is also nice that this chapter has a punchline involving the 'Nanjo family slaves.'
The final chapter is about Kesao Sato, the founder and president of Kokusho Kankokai, who passed away last month. This man can only be described as an 'eccentric and great figure.' I laughed out loud many times while reading the anecdotes that were rolled out one after another.
While such books are valuable as testimony, they can easily become just an inside joke. But this book is not like that. If anything, it feels like the author is taking the trouble to leave behind unforgettable, important things, memories, and funny stories involving amazing people he knew personally—most of whom have passed away—and for whom he had great respect. I didn't have any unpleasant feelings while reading it. I think it's a good book.
My goodness. It is in stock.
This special memorial issue for Tomohiko Sunaga is also in stock.
