What do You think about Rashomon And Seventeen Other Stories (2006)?
In his (undated ... perhaps 2006?) introduction, Haruki Murakami gives us what he thinks would be Japan's 10 most important "writers of national stature". They are writers that "left us works of the first rank that vividly reflect the mentality of the Japanese people ... [the works] must have the power to survive at least a quarter century after the writer's death. ... The important thing is whether each of them as an individual human being embraced an awareness of the great questions of the age, accepted his or her social responsibility as an artist on the front line, and made an honest effort to shape his or her life accordingly."Haruki believes the top 10 to be:#1. Sōseki Natsume. Equal #2 are: 2.Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, 2.Ōgai Mori, 4.Shimazaki To son, 5.Shiga Naoya, 6.Jun'ichirō Tanizaki, 7.Yasunari Kawabata. Equal #8 are: 8.Osamu Dazai, 8.Yukio Mishima.He can't think of a tenth name for the list(!). Which is cute if you are a fan of Kenzaburō Ōe. Haruki is such a bitch. He goes on to say that "Kawabata's works, to be honest, have always been a problem for me. ... I have never been able to identify very closely with his fictional world." And "With reagrd to Shimazaki and Shiga, I can only say that I have no particular interest in them ... what I have read has left little trace in my memory."So old Kenzaburo has been excluded from Haruki's list of 10 ... which only includes 9 ... and of which, 3 he really doesn't have time for? Ouch.But Haruki's obviously mad. He seems to say that Botchan can be "memorized whole by most school children". What?On to Akutagawa ... I liked the "I" stuff the best.
—David
It’s hard to review something like Ryūnosuke Akutagawa’s Rashōmon and Seventeen Other Stories: it’s too complex, too often inducing a “What was that I read?”, too deep, and yet approachable, very readable. I found this book by chance while surfing Goodreads, and was immediately attracted by Rashōmon, since I am a fan of Kurosawa’s, and am all admiration for that particular film (the plot of which, ironically, draws more from Akutagawa’s In the Bamboo Grove than it does from Rashōmon itself). I bought the book and told myself that I’d read it slowly, one short story at a time—and found myself caught like a fly in a spider’s web. I ended up reading most of this book in long stretches, until my eyes hurt. The eighteen stories are very diverse in nature: there are ghosts here, and dragons. There is hell, both somewhat distant, seen through the benevolent eyes of the Sakyamuni in The Spider Thread, and close, horrifying, macabre—as in Hell Screen. There are tales of a Japan torn between tradition and modernity, of battles between Christianity and older, local beliefs. There are battles, too, between man and man, and—most forcibly, most searingly, the stories of man’s battles with himself. The latter are brought most vividly (and disturbingly) to life in the last section of the book, which brings together six autobiographical stories by Akutagawa. As I progressed through this book, I went through a range of emotions. I laughed at the quirky humour in The Nose, Dragon: The Old Potter’s Tale and Green Onions. I shivered at the cruelty of Hell Screen. And I couldn’t help but wonder how much of Spinning Gears (which was published posthumously, after Akutagawa killed himself in 1927) was real, and how much was not. This is a brilliant book. It’s rich, textured, detailed. The imagery is often breathtaking (“She had a radiant face, like the morning sun on a thin sheet of ice”), and the layers are fascinating, peeling away from the mundane, even comical, to the wryly profound. As an example: ”He put a cigarette in his mouth and was striking a match when he collapsed face-down on his desk and died. It was a truly disappointing way to die. Fortunately, however, society rarely offers critical comment regarding the way a person dies. The way a person lives is what evokes criticism.”The translator, Jay Rubin, also provides useful notes on stories and their elements, which help in a better understanding of the story (especially for someone not familiar with Japan and its culture). In addition, there’s a brief but good biography of Akutagawa, and a superb introduction by Haruki Murakami. I would advise reading all of these, besides the stories that comprise the book: they help get a better insight into the author, and so add to the experience. I ended this book feeling both oddly deflated and inspired. As a writer, I can’t help but be inspired by writing of such stature. As a writer, too, I can’t help but feel that I cannot possibly ever write as brilliantly as this. Not a book I am going to forget in a hurry, if ever.
—Madhulika Liddle
An interesting collection of short stories,'in the bamboo grove', 'hell screen' and 'O-Gin' are excellent short stories of moral. Enjoyed a lot. I confess I was interested in getting to the autobiographical ending of the book since Akutagawa famously ended his own life and his own insight into his depression seemed to be a good place to understand why he or anyone else would want to end their own being.I'll be honest, I was a little disappointed with the outcome here, but maybe that in is the point. (view spoiler)[Every thing is just so mundane (hide spoiler)]
—Steve
