Lemon
By Motojirō Kajī (Trans. Max Bliven)
AUDIO BOOK PART 1
From the beginning of time a mysterious, ominous lump had held my heart captive. Is this impatience? Is this fear? After drinking wine comes the hangover. Drinking wine every day, and the hangover comes appropriately in its due time. This is something to be avoided. It has resulted in a catarrh of the lung, and a nervous breakdown – something that should not have happened. Also, another unfortunate thing that shouldn’t have happened is a burnt-out back. That which should not have happened is an unlucky mass. Before this, I used to enjoy all kinds of beautiful music, and all kinds of beautiful poetry – it is all gone now. Getting ready to go out, listening to the record player, the first two or three bars, for no apparent reason, come to stand out. Something has made me feel too awkward to remain at home any longer. Therefore, I constantly wander from neighborhood to neighborhood.
Why is it that when I am in such a poor state, I can remember the force with which beautiful things pull me towards them? Roads that are in a state of disrepair are scenic – when compared to the cold main streets, such avenues are friendlier; I like meandering through such alleyways where dirty laundry is drying in the wind along with random junk. Such quaint roads are eroded by the wind and rain, and return to the earth from whence they came. Houses begin to tilt – earthen walls collapse – good potential for plants. Given time, one is surprised by blooming canna and sunflowers.
Sometimes, when I walk such roads, I suddenly find I’m not in Kyōtō, but have wandered off a hundred miles or more – to Nagasaki or Sendai – a delusion I strive to wake from. I do not know one person who is willing to run away from Kyōtō after having come to this city. Primarily because of the calm.
Ryokan rooms are spacious. Their futons are immaculate. The mosquito nets smell nice, and the yukatas are well starched. In such places, for a month or so, one thinks of nothing but lounging about. Hopefully, here the city becomes imperceptible.
-
AUDIO BOOK PART 2
As soon as this illusion begins, I finish it up by smearing it with paint from my imagination. What is my illusion, if it is not a double exposure of a city nearing ruin. I enjoyed losing sight of my own reality in the middle of that.
I’m also a guy who you could say is a fan of fireworks. Fireworks, and things like them are second best; with their cheap paints of red, purple, yellow and blue. There are many varieties, with stripes, as well as the star-shaped fireworks, or the ones that look like withered pampas grass; both used at the fireworks festival of Nakamiya temple. Then there are what are called “rat fireworks”, which come packed in a box, but one by one they become a spinning wheel. Such things strangely pique my mind.
In addition, glass marbles that are imbued with the colorful shapes of sea bream and flowers are also a pleasure that I enjoy. The taste of that glass has a faintly cool taste to it. When I was young my parents would scold me for putting them in my mouth. Now that I’ve become big, such sweet memories seem only to be recalled to remind me of a lost innocence. Indeed, that taste is also a thing that floats as gently and as subtlety as what is called “poetic beauty.”
Upon reflection, it would seem to me that it is not but gold. Having said that, when seeing such things, for even just a moment, my heart is moved so. Such things are luxuries that bring me personal comfort, and cannot be done without. Two sen¹ and three sen things – these are luxury items. Beautiful things are things that come to flirt with my lazy antennae. - Such things are a comfort to my nature.
Before my way of life had not yet undermined me, there were various haunts I enjoyed such as Maruzen². Red and yellow eau de cologne and eau de quinine. Stylish cut glassware and graceful sculptures of rococo with floating patterns, perfume bottles of amber and jade green. Pipes, small knives, soap, tobacco. When I see such things, I can easily spend an hour admiring them. Eventually I will end up buying about one extravagant pencil. However, at that time, this place was nothing more to me than a heavy and painful place to be in. Books, students, cashiers, all of them looked to me like the specters of debt collectors.
AUDIO BOOK PART 3
One morning – at the time I sojourned between the boarding houses of various friends – after my friends had left for school, I was left all alone in the center of the vacuous surroundings. I had to wander away from there again. Something was chasing me. So, from street to street, I wandered through alleys in the manner I previously described. Stopping in front of a mom and pop candy store, looking at dried shrimp, bōdara³, and yuba⁴ from a dried goods store, and finally my legs stopped at a fruit store down Teramachi in the vicinity of Nijō. It is here at that fruit shop that I would like to make a little introduction – out of all the shops that I knew, that fruit shop was a favorite. This fruit shop was not simply just a fine store, I blatantly felt that it had a supremely unique beauty. The fruit was lined up rather steeply on a platform, which seemed to be made of old boards with a black lacquer. They were like the flow of a brilliantly beautiful piece of allegro music. People who looked were turned into stone, as if they had seen the demonic face of a gorgon – such was the discipline of this spectacle – the colors and volume of the fruit coalescing into a single mass. Fruit with deeper hues were naturally stacked towards the back. Actually, the beauty of the carrot leaves and other such things there was outstanding. In addition, they had beans and such things as arrowhead bulbs and so forth, immersed in streaming water. In addition, the beauty of that house belonged to the evening hours. Teramachidōri is as busy street as busy streets get – it is clear that it is as busy as any busy street to be found in Tōkyō or Ōsaka – numerous decorative windows pour light out along the street. That being the case, why is it that this store front’s surroundings alone were mysteriously dark. Originally the side of the street where Nijōdōri met Teramachidōri has always been a dark corner, this was a given. Regardless, it is unclear why the neighboring house on this corner was also dark. However, if this house had not been shrouded in darkness, I think I would not have been so tempted by it. One more thing: this store had an eave that jutted out, and this eave was like the brim of a hat that one might shield one’s eyes with, so much so that one would think “Oh! That store is wearing a hat!” – above the eaves it was pitch black. Because the surrounding were so dark, countless lights were strung about the store’s counter, bathing it with a brilliant light like a downpour from a rain shower. This was all done perfectly, without taking anything away from the surrounding darkness, illuminating a beautiful view. The bare bulbs, twisted into a spiral rod, immediately pierce one’s vision as one stands amidst the traffic. There is an eatery still in the neighborhood called Kagiya, that I could view the fruit store from a window on the second floor. At that time, it was rare for anything in Teramachi to excite me.
AUDIO BOOK PART 4
I had never shopped at that store before. Nevertheless, that store had uncommonly unusual lemons on display. Lemons, and similar fruits, are quite common. Considering the store was not what you would call “shabby,” nor was it any different than your average green grocer, and I had never really seen it any differently than that. I simply liked their lemons. Lemon-yellow paint squeezed from a hardened tube of paint has a simple color, as well as the appearance of a clogged spindle in its entire length. - Finally, there was one thing that I ended up buying. I wonder how far I strolled from there. I walked for a long time through the city. An ominous feeling that I had been continuously blocking out had somehow, at some point, loosened it’s grip from my mind – I was very happy to be in the city. Such persistent melancholy, although no bigger than a grain of rice, confuses the mind, just as a simple suspicion can become outright paranoia – this is truly a paradox. Be that as it may, this thing called “the mind” is truly a mysterious thing.
The cold feeling of the lemons was indescribably good. At the time, the apex of my lungs was in poor condition, and I frequently had a fever. In fact, I would show off my fever to my friends I had at the time by clasping hands with them, and then comparing to see whose palm was hotter. Perhaps because of this heat radiating from my palm, the coldness I felt when grasping a relative’s palm, felt pleasant.
Many, many times I held the fruit up to my nose to enjoy their scent. If I were to say where these fruit originated, California rises up in my imagination. I came across a phrase from a Chinese book I was studying (賣柑者之言 - Mài Gān Zhě Zhī Yán - The Words of an Orange Vendor)⁵ “wrestle the nose” floated out sharply from amongst the pages. How is it then, that after deeply inhaling that scented air into my chest, that I, one whose body is incapable of breathing deeply, is awoken with an invigorating energy – warm blood rushing to my face.
Actually, such simple sensations of cold, texture, scent, and sight had eluded my grasp since days long past. So it was, that at this time, I thought such feelings were so mysterious.
I’m already bounding between traffic lights, feeling something like pride, wearing a beautiful costume, strutting through the city, my thoughts floating amongst poets and the like, as I walk. Again, I think about such things as wiping one’s dirty hands on the upper part of a cloak in attempt to match the color and hue of the cloak.
…In other words, it’s this weight. ….
I was constantly asking myself about what kind of thing this weight could be: it was not a thing of doubt, but a converted weight of all things benevolent and beautiful . . . The more I thought about this foolish perspective, the more I wondered how I could be so happy with such a jocular mind.
AUDIO BOOK PART 5
How far did I walk, and to where? I finally arrived in front of Maruzen. Ordinarily I avoided Maruzen, but it seems to me, at that time I entered it with great ease.
“I’ll just pop in for a bit,” and with that, I went straight in without hesitation.
How is it that these happy feelings that filled my heart had somehow escaped? My mind found no solace; not in perfume bottles, or even metal-stemmed tobacco pipes. To relieve this melancholy, I thought I would walk around until fatigue set in. I went to a shelf of picture copy books to have a look. I’ve always thought that since art books are often so heavy, you shouldn’t even bother picking them up unless you have the strength needed to do so. However, I take out one book at a time, open it up, look at it, but don’t feel like finishing it. Instead, as if under the power of some curse, I continue to draw out the next picture book from the shelf. That book is treated the same as the others. At once, the books are regretfully scattered about in a mess. More to the point, I have an irresistible urge to put the books all over the place. I simply cannot return them to their original place. I repeat this many times. At long last I get to “Angle”⁶, a heavy orange book that I’ve always liked, and since it is unbearably heavy, I leave it out as well. This is some damnable thing. The muscles in my hand remain fatigued. I grew melancholic looking at a group of books I pulled out, all stacked about. Whatever became of all the picture books that used to hold my attention so? After exposing my eyes to each one, I look up to my ordinary surroundings, now strangely unsuitable – I enjoyed the taste of my previous setting.
….
“Oh! That’s right! That’s right!” It was then that I remembered I had a lemon in my tamoto⁷. Stacking all the various colored books in a mess, it looks as though I had been using the lemon as a litmus. “That’s right!”
The carefree excitement that I previously felt had returned. I randomly pile up, in a hasty manner, crushing them, building them up in a rush. I pulled out a new book and added it to the pile, exchanging place with another. This bizarre and fantastic castle turned red and blue each time. Finally it’s finished. Then, with my heart aflutter, I fearfully install the lemon atop the highest wall of the castle. With that, it’s finally perfected.
Looking at it, the kernel of the lemon’s color became vivid, as the tone of the lemon’s color clash was quietly absorbed into the center of it’s spindle-shaped formation. Within the dusty surroundings of Maruzen, only around the vicinity of the lemon did I sense an unusual tension. I gazed at it all for a while.
Suddenly, a second idea occurred to me. These strange schemes I play at are rather startling to me.
….Then leaving things as they are, I get up and leave, as if I had no knowledge of anything I’d just done. – This gave me a strange feeling, as if I was being tickled. “Maybe it’s time to go. Yes, time to go,” and with that I briskly walk out.
With a strange feeling like that of being tickled, I smile upon the city. Wouldn’t it be quite interesting if that frightening bomb of brilliant golden yellow, with its epicenter a shelf in Maruzen’s art books, this bizarre gimmick perpetrated by a villain like me, were to, after about ten minutes, violently explode?
I have diligently pursued this imagination. “And then that stuffy Maruzen will be blown to smithereens!”
Then, I find myself in Kyogoku⁸, led by the stream of bizarre pictured signboards that color the city.
¹One sen = one one hundredth of a yen.
²Imported goods store carrying foreign books.
³棒鱈 : rod/stick-shaped dried fish
⁴湯葉 : literally "soup leaf/leaves"; tofu skin used in soup as a special (primarily sensually aesthetic) ingredient.
⁵Written by Liú Jī (劉基) 1311-1375; a Ming dynasty writer and politician.
⁶Angle by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres (1780 - 1867); a painter of the neoclassical school of the nineteenth century.
⁷袂 - a sleeve pouch in a kimono.
⁸A neighborhood in NW Kyōtō.
The original text
檸檬
梶井基次郎
えたいの知れない不吉な塊が私の心を始終圧えつけていた。焦躁と言おうか、嫌悪と言おうか――酒を飲んだあとに宿酔があるように、酒を毎日飲んでいると宿酔に相当した時期がやって来る。それが来たのだ。これはちょっといけなかった。結果した肺尖カタルや神経衰弱がいけないのではない。また背を焼くような借金などがいけないのではない。いけないのはその不吉な塊だ。以前私を喜ばせたどんな美しい音楽も、どんな美しい詩の一節も辛抱がならなくなった。蓄音器を聴かせてもらいにわざわざ出かけて行っても、最初の二三小節で不意に立ち上がってしまいたくなる。何かが私を居堪らずさせるのだ。それで始終私は街から街を浮浪し続けていた。
何故だかその頃私は見すぼらしくて美しいものに強くひきつけられたのを覚えている。風景にしても壊れかかった街だとか、その街にしてもよそよそしい表通りよりもどこか親しみのある、汚い洗濯物が干してあったりがらくたが転がしてあったりむさくるしい部屋が覗いていたりする裏通りが好きであった。雨や風が蝕んでやがて土に帰ってしまう、と言ったような趣きのある街で、土塀が崩れていたり家並が傾きかかっていたり――勢いのいいのは植物だけで、時とするとびっくりさせるような向日葵があったりカンナが咲いていたりする。
時どき私はそんな路を歩きながら、ふと、そこが京都ではなくて京都から何百里も離れた仙台とか長崎とか――そのような市へ今自分が来ているのだ――という錯覚を起こそうと努める。私は、できることなら京都から逃げ出して誰一人知らないような市へ行ってしまいたかった。第一に安静。がらんとした旅館の一室。清浄な蒲団。匂いのいい蚊帳と糊のよくきいた浴衣。そこで一月ほど何も思わず横になりたい。希わくはここがいつの間にかその市になっているのだったら。――錯覚がようやく成功しはじめると私はそれからそれへ想像の絵具を塗りつけてゆく。なんのことはない、私の錯覚と壊れかかった街との二重写しである。そして私はその中に現実の私自身を見失うのを楽しんだ。
私はまたあの花火というやつが好きになった。花火そのものは第二段として、あの安っぽい絵具で赤や紫や黄や青や、さまざまの縞模様を持った花火の束、中山寺の星下り、花合戦、枯れすすき。それから鼠花火というのは一つずつ輪になっていて箱に詰めてある。そんなものが変に私の心を唆った。
それからまた、びいどろという色硝子で鯛や花を打ち出してあるおはじきが好きになったし、南京玉が好きになった。またそれを嘗めてみるのが私にとってなんともいえない享楽だったのだ。あのびいどろの味ほど幽かな涼しい味があるものか。私は幼い時よくそれを口に入れては父母に叱られたものだが、その幼時のあまい記憶が大きくなって落ち魄れた私に蘇えってくる故だろうか、まったくあの味には幽かな爽やかななんとなく詩美と言ったような味覚が漂って来る。
察しはつくだろうが私にはまるで金がなかった。とは言えそんなものを見て少しでも心の動きかけた時の私自身を慰めるためには贅沢ということが必要であった。二銭や三銭のもの――と言って贅沢なもの。美しいもの――と言って無気力な私の触角にむしろ媚びて来るもの。――そう言ったものが自然私を慰めるのだ。
生活がまだ蝕まれていなかった以前私の好きであった所は、たとえば丸善であった。赤や黄のオードコロンやオードキニン。洒落た切子細工や典雅なロココ趣味の浮模様を持った琥珀色や翡翠色の香水壜。煙管、小刀、石鹸、煙草。私はそんなものを見るのに小一時間も費すことがあった。そして結局一等いい鉛筆を一本買うくらいの贅沢をするのだった。しかしここももうその頃の私にとっては重くるしい場所に過ぎなかった。書籍、学生、勘定台、これらはみな借金取りの亡霊のように私には見えるのだった。
ある朝――その頃私は甲の友達から乙の友達へというふうに友達の下宿を転々として暮らしていたのだが――友達が学校へ出てしまったあとの空虚な空気のなかにぽつねんと一人取り残された。私はまたそこから彷徨い出なければならなかった。何かが私を追いたてる。そして街から街へ、先に言ったような裏通りを歩いたり、駄菓子屋の前で立ち留まったり、乾物屋の乾蝦や棒鱈や湯葉を眺めたり、とうとう私は二条の方へ寺町を下り、そこの果物屋で足を留めた。ここでちょっとその果物屋を紹介したいのだが、その果物屋は私の知っていた範囲で最も好きな店であった。そこは決して立派な店ではなかったのだが、果物屋固有の美しさが最も露骨に感ぜられた。果物はかなり勾配の急な台の上に並べてあって、その台というのも古びた黒い漆塗りの板だったように思える。何か華やかな美しい音楽の快速調の流れが、見る人を石に化したというゴルゴンの鬼面――的なものを差しつけられて、あんな色彩やあんなヴォリウムに凝り固まったというふうに果物は並んでいる。青物もやはり奥へゆけばゆくほど堆高く積まれている。――実際あそこの人参葉の美しさなどは素晴しかった。それから水に漬けてある豆だとか慈姑だとか。
またそこの家の美しいのは夜だった。寺町通はいったいに賑かな通りで――と言って感じは東京や大阪よりはずっと澄んでいるが――飾窓の光がおびただしく街路へ流れ出ている。それがどうしたわけかその店頭の周囲だけが妙に暗いのだ。もともと片方は暗い二条通に接している街角になっているので、暗いのは当然であったが、その隣家が寺町通にある家にもかかわらず暗かったのが瞭然しない。しかしその家が暗くなかったら、あんなにも私を誘惑するには至らなかったと思う。もう一つはその家の打ち出した廂なのだが、その廂が眼深に冠った帽子の廂のように――これは形容というよりも、「おや、あそこの店は帽子の廂をやけに下げているぞ」と思わせるほどなので、廂の上はこれも真暗なのだ。そう周囲が真暗なため、店頭に点けられた幾つもの電燈が驟雨のように浴びせかける絢爛は、周囲の何者にも奪われることなく、ほしいままにも美しい眺めが照らし出されているのだ。裸の電燈が細長い螺旋棒をきりきり眼の中へ刺し込んでくる往来に立って、また近所にある鎰屋の二階の硝子窓をすかして眺めたこの果物店の眺めほど、その時どきの私を興がらせたものは寺町の中でも稀だった。
その日私はいつになくその店で買物をした。というのはその店には珍しい檸檬が出ていたのだ。檸檬などごくありふれている。がその店というのも見すぼらしくはないまでもただあたりまえの八百屋に過ぎなかったので、それまであまり見かけたことはなかった。いったい私はあの檸檬が好きだ。レモンエロウの絵具をチューブから搾り出して固めたようなあの単純な色も、それからあの丈の詰まった紡錘形の恰好も。――結局私はそれを一つだけ買うことにした。それからの私はどこへどう歩いたのだろう。私は長い間街を歩いていた。始終私の心を圧えつけていた不吉な塊がそれを握った瞬間からいくらか弛んで来たとみえて、私は街の上で非常に幸福であった。あんなに執拗かった憂鬱が、そんなものの一顆で紛らされる――あるいは不審なことが、逆説的なほんとうであった。それにしても心というやつはなんという不可思議なやつだろう。
その檸檬の冷たさはたとえようもなくよかった。その頃私は肺尖を悪くしていていつも身体に熱が出た。事実友達の誰彼に私の熱を見せびらかすために手の握り合いなどをしてみるのだが、私の掌が誰のよりも熱かった。その熱い故だったのだろう、握っている掌から身内に浸み透ってゆくようなその冷たさは快いものだった。
私は何度も何度もその果実を鼻に持っていっては嗅いでみた。それの産地だというカリフォルニヤが想像に上って来る。漢文で習った「売柑者之言」の中に書いてあった「鼻を撲つ」という言葉が断れぎれに浮かんで来る。そしてふかぶかと胸一杯に匂やかな空気を吸い込めば、ついぞ胸一杯に呼吸したことのなかった私の身体や顔には温い血のほとぼりが昇って来てなんだか身内に元気が目覚めて来たのだった。……
実際あんな単純な冷覚や触覚や嗅覚や視覚が、ずっと昔からこればかり探していたのだと言いたくなったほど私にしっくりしたなんて私は不思議に思える――それがあの頃のことなんだから。
私はもう往来を軽やかな昂奮に弾んで、一種誇りかな気持さえ感じながら、美的装束をして街を闊歩した詩人のことなど思い浮かべては歩いていた。汚れた手拭の上へ載せてみたりマントの上へあてがってみたりして色の反映を量ったり、またこんなことを思ったり、
――つまりはこの重さなんだな。――
その重さこそ常づね尋ねあぐんでいたもので、疑いもなくこの重さはすべての善いものすべての美しいものを重量に換算して来た重さであるとか、思いあがった諧謔心からそんな馬鹿げたことを考えてみたり――なにがさて私は幸福だったのだ。
どこをどう歩いたのだろう、私が最後に立ったのは丸善の前だった。平常あんなに避けていた丸善がその時の私にはやすやすと入れるように思えた。
「今日は一つ入ってみてやろう」そして私はずかずか入って行った。
しかしどうしたことだろう、私の心を充たしていた幸福な感情はだんだん逃げていった。香水の壜にも煙管にも私の心はのしかかってはゆかなかった。憂鬱が立て罩めて来る、私は歩き廻った疲労が出て来たのだと思った。私は画本の棚の前へ行ってみた。画集の重たいのを取り出すのさえ常に増して力が要るな！ と思った。しかし私は一冊ずつ抜き出してはみる、そして開けてはみるのだが、克明にはぐってゆく気持はさらに湧いて来ない。しかも呪われたことにはまた次の一冊を引き出して来る。それも同じことだ。それでいて一度バラバラとやってみなくては気が済まないのだ。それ以上は堪らなくなってそこへ置いてしまう。以前の位置へ戻すことさえできない。私は幾度もそれを繰り返した。とうとうおしまいには日頃から大好きだったアングルの橙色の重い本までなおいっそうの堪えがたさのために置いてしまった。――なんという呪われたことだ。手の筋肉に疲労が残っている。私は憂鬱になってしまって、自分が抜いたまま積み重ねた本の群を眺めていた。
以前にはあんなに私をひきつけた画本がどうしたことだろう。一枚一枚に眼を晒し終わって後、さてあまりに尋常な周囲を見廻すときのあの変にそぐわない気持を、私は以前には好んで味わっていたものであった。……
「あ、そうだそうだ」その時私は袂の中の檸檬を憶い出した。本の色彩をゴチャゴチャに積みあげて、一度この檸檬で試してみたら。「そうだ」
私にまた先ほどの軽やかな昂奮が帰って来た。私は手当たり次第に積みあげ、また慌しく潰し、また慌しく築きあげた。新しく引き抜いてつけ加えたり、取り去ったりした。奇怪な幻想的な城が、そのたびに赤くなったり青くなったりした。
やっとそれはでき上がった。そして軽く跳りあがる心を制しながら、その城壁の頂きに恐る恐る檸檬を据えつけた。そしてそれは上出来だった。
見わたすと、その檸檬の色彩はガチャガチャした色の階調をひっそりと紡錘形の身体の中へ吸収してしまって、カーンと冴えかえっていた。私は埃っぽい丸善の中の空気が、その檸檬の周囲だけ変に緊張しているような気がした。私はしばらくそれを眺めていた。
不意に第二のアイディアが起こった。その奇妙なたくらみはむしろ私をぎょっとさせた。
――それをそのままにしておいて私は、なに喰わぬ顔をして外へ出る。――
私は変にくすぐったい気持がした。「出て行こうかなあ。そうだ出て行こう」そして私はすたすた出て行った。
変にくすぐったい気持が街の上の私を微笑ませた。丸善の棚へ黄金色に輝く恐ろしい爆弾を仕掛けて来た奇怪な悪漢が私で、もう十分後にはあの丸善が美術の棚を中心として大爆発をするのだったらどんなにおもしろいだろう。
私はこの想像を熱心に追求した。「そうしたらあの気詰まりな丸善も粉葉みじんだろう」
そして私は活動写真の看板画が奇体な趣きで街を彩っている京極を下って行った。
Thank you for the text - Aozorabunko
https://www.aozora.gr.jp/cards/000074/files/424_19826.html