"For his narrative mastery

which with great sensibility

expresses the essence of the

Japanese mind"

Yasunan Kawabata

THE IZU DANCER

Translated from the Japanese by Edward Seidensticker

Yasunari Kawabata(yii sii nd rekii wii U5 ti)-

nfl shower s,wept toward me from the foot of the mountain, touching tzu (e zii).

the cedar foresb white, as the road began to wind up into the pass. I wasnineteen and baveling alone through the lzu Peninsula. My clothes were ofthe sort students wear, dark hmono, high wooden sandals, a school cap,a book sack over my shoulder. I had spent thre€ nights at hot springs near Note the subttethe center of the peninsula, and now, my fourth day out of Tolryo, I was descriptive detail inclimbing toward Amagi Pass and South lzu. The autumn scenery was pleas- this parasraph'

ant enough, mountains rising one on another, open forests, deep valleys,but I was excited less by the scenery than by a certain hope. L4ge drops ofmin began to fall. I ran on up the road, now steep and winding, and at themou$r of the pass I came to a tea-house. I stopped short in the doonray. ka loase.'an inn.It was almost too lucky: the dancers were resting inside.

The little dancing girl fumed over the cushion she had been sitting on Her first two actsand pushed it politely toward me. make clear the girl's

t'Yo," I murmured stupidly, and sat dorvn. Surprised and out of breath, soci-al Position in

I could think of nothing more appropriate to say. ::lX'::Lt that orthe

"The lar Dancef' by Yasrnari lbwabab kanslated by Edward Seidersticker. Reprinted withpermission of The l\sia Society from Peryetue ol Jopon, originally published by THE AT-' LAllTtC MONTHLY, January 1955, for lntercultunl Publicafors. Coprnight 1955 by The AsiaSociety, N.Y.

Yosunori Kowobato 67

Do yor think he isbcmg a romantic?

Distirctions betweensocial classes wererigid and clearlydefined. Watch forevidence of this.

she sat near me, we were facing each other. I fumbled for tobacco andshe handed me the ash hay in front of one of the other women. still Isaid nothing

She was perhaps sixteen. Her hair uns swept up in mounds after anold style I hardly know what to call. Her solemn, oval face was dwarfed underil and yet $e face and the hair went well together, rather as in the picturesone sees of ancient beauties with their exaggerated rolls of hair. Two otheryoung women were with her, and a man of twenty-four or twengrfive. Astern-loohng woman of about forty presided over the group.

I had seen the little dancer twice before. once I passed her and theother two young women on a long bridge half way dourn the peninsula. shewas canying a big drum. I looked back and looked back agatn, congratulatingmyself that here finally I had the flavor of bavel. And then my third night atthe inn I saw her dance. she danced just inside the enhance, and I sat on thestairs enraptured. On the bridge then, here tonighl I had said to mpelf,tomorrow over the pass to Yugano, and surely somewhere along thosefifteen miles I will meet them-that was the hope that had sent me hurryingup the mountain road. But the meeting at the tea-house was too suddenI was taken quite off balance.

A few minutes later the old woman who kept the tea-house led me toqnother room, one apparenfly not much used It was open to a rnlley sodeep that the bottom was out of sight My teeth were chattering and my armswere covered with goose flesh. I was a little cold" I said to the old womanwhen she came back with tea.

"But you're soaked. Come in here and dry yourself." She led me toher living room.

The heat from the open ftre stuck me as she opened the door. I wentinside and sat back behind the fire. steam rose from my kimonq and thefire was so wann that my head began to ache.

The old woman went out to talk to the dancers. "Welt, now. So this isthe little girl you had with you before, so big already. why, she's practicallya grown woman. Isir't that nice. And so pretty, too. Girls do grour up ln ahumy, don't they?"

Perhaps an hour later I heard them getting ready to leave. My heartpounded and my chest was tighl and yet I could not ftnd the courage to getup and go off with them. I fretted on beside the ftre. But they were womerLafter all; granted that they were used to walhng I ought to have no houbleovertaldng them even if I fell a half mlle or a mile behind. My mtnd dancedoff after them as though their departure had given tt tlcense."Where wi[ fre5, stay tonight?' I asked the woman when she cameback

"People like thal horry can you tell where they'll stay? If the!, ffnd

6E Japan

someone who will pay them, that's where it wrll be. Do you think they knortahad of time?"

Her open contempt excited r4e. If she is righl I said to mpelf, then thedandng girl wi[ stay in my room tonight what assumption is he

The rain quieted to a sprinlde, the s$ over the pass cleared I felt I making?could wait no longer, though the qoman assured me that the sun would beout in another ten minutes

"Young mar\ young man." The woman ftm up the road after me."This is too much. I really can't take it" She clutched at my book sack andheld me baclq hying to retum the money I had given her, and when I re-fused it she hobbled along after me. She must at least see me off up the road"she insisted "lfs really too much. I did nothing for you-but lll remember,and I'll have something for you when you come this way again. Yotr willcome again, won't you? I won't forget"

So much gratitude for one fifty-sen piece was rather touching. I was In atever to overtake the little dancer, however, and her hobbling only held mebaclc When we carne to the tunnel I finally shook her off.

2

Uned on one side by a white fence, the road turisted dqtn from themouth of the tunnel like a sheak of lightning. Near the bottom of the jaggedfigure were the dancer and her companions. Another half mile and I hadoverhken them. since it hardly seemed graceful to slorry dorpn at once totheir pace, however, I moved on past the women with a shorp of coolness.The man, walking some ten yards ahead of them, tumed as he heard mecome up.

"You're quite a walker. . . .lsn't it lucky the min has stopped"Rescued, I walked on beside him. He began ashng questions, and the

women, seeing that we had stuck up a conversatior\ came tipping up be-hind us. The man had a large wicker bunk shapped to his back The olderwoman held a puppy in her arms, the two young women canied bundles,and the girl had her drum and its frame. The older woman presentlyioinedin the conversation.

"He's a highschool boy," one of the young women whispered to thelitfle dancer, giggling as I glanced back

"Really, even I knour that muct\" the gul retorted "studenb come tothe lsland often."

Thql were from Oshima tn the lzu hlandq the man told me. In thespring they left to wander over the peninsula, but norr it was getting cold and

Yasunari Kautabota 69

The dancer isresponding to thestudent's attraction toher.

As a student. thenarrator is expectedto stay at a better inn.

they had no winter clothes with them. After ten days or so at Shimoda in thesouth they would sail back to the islands. I glanced again at those rich moundsof hair, at the little figure all the more romantic now for being from Oshima.I questioned them about the islands.

"Sfudents come to Oshima to swim, you know," the girl remarked to theyoung wor\an beside her.

"ln the summer, I suppose." I looked backShe was flustered. "ln the winter too," she answered in an almost

inaudible little voice."Even in the winter?'She looked at the other women and laughed uncertainly."Do they swim even in the winter?" I asked again.She flushed and nodded very slightly, a serious expression on her

face."The child is cra4t," the older woman laughed.From six or seven miles above Yugano the road followed a river. The

mountains had taken on the look of the South from the moment we de-scended the pass. The man and I became firm friends, and as the thatchedroofs of Yugano came in sight below us I announqed that I would like to go orto Shimoda with them. He seemed delighted.

In front of a shabby old inn the older woman glanced tentatively at meas if to take her leave. "But this gentleman would like to go on with us,"the man said.

"Oh, would he?' she answered with simple warmth. "'On the road acompanion, in life sympathy,' they say. I suppose even poor things like us canliven up a bip. Do come in-we'll have a cup of tea and rest ourselves."

We went up to the second floor and laid down our baggage. The shawcarpeting and the doors were worn and dirty. The little dancer brought up teafrom below. fu she came to me the teacup clattered in its saucer. She set itdown sharply in an effort to save herself, but she succeeded only in spillingit. I was hardly prepared for confusion so extreme.

"Dear me. The child's come to a dangerous age," the older woman said,arching her eyebrows as she tossed over a cloth. The $rl wiped tersely atthe tea.

The remark somehorr starded me. I felt the excitement aroused by theold woman at the tea-house begin to mounl

An hour or so later the man took me to another inn. I had thoughttill then that I was to stay with them. We climbed down over roclc andstone steps a hundred yards or so from the road. There was a public hotspring in the river be4 and just beyond it a bridge led to the garden ofthe inn.

We went together for a bath. He was twenty-three, he told me, and his

70 Japan

wrfe had had two miscaniages. He seemed not unintelligent. I had assumedthat he had come along for the walk-perhaps like me to be near the

dancer. >

A heavy rain began to fall about sunseL The mountains, gray and white,Ilattened to two dimensions, and the river grew yellower and muddier bythe minute. I felt sure that the dancgrs would not be out on a night like this,

and yet I could not sit still. Two and three times I went down to the bath,and came restlessly back to my room again.

Then, distant in the rain, I heard the slow beating of a drum. I tore openthe shutters as lf to wrench them from their grooves and leaned out thewindow The drum beat seemed to be coming nearer. The rain, driven by asbong wind, lashed at my head. I closed my eyes and tied to concentate onthe drum, on where it might be, whether it could be coming this way. Presenfly I heard a samisen, and now and then a woman's voice calling tosomeone, a loud burst of laughter. The dancers had been called to a party inthe restaurant actos.s from their inrq it seemed. I could distinguish two or threewomen's voices and three or four men's voices. Soon they will be finishedthere, I told myself, and they will come here. Thepartyseemedtogobeyondthe harmlessly gay and to approach the rowdy. A shrill woman's voice cameacross the darkness like the crack of a whip. I sat rigid, more and morb onedge, staring out through the open shufrers. At each drum beat I felt a surgeof relief. "Ah, she's still there. S[ll there and playing the drum." And eachtime the beating stopped the silence seemed intderable. It was as thoughI were being bome under by the driving rain.

For a time there was a confusion of footsteps-were they playtng tagwere they dancing? And then complete silence. I glared into the darkness.What would she be doing, who would be with her the rest of the night?

I closed the shutters and got into bed. My chest was painfully tight. Iwent down to the bath again and splashed about violently. The rain stopped,the moon came out; the autumn sky, washed by the min, shone crystallineinto the distance. I thought for a moment of running out barefoot to look forher. It was after two.

3

The man came by my inn at nine the next moming. I had justgotten up,and I invited him along for a bath. Belour the bath-house the river, high fromthe rain, flotped warm in the South lzu autumn sun. My anguish of last nightno longer seemed very real. I wanted e,uen so to hear what had happened

"That was a lively part5l you had last night"

samisen: a three-stringed instrument.somewhat like a banjo.with a rectangularsound box.

Yosunori Kowaboto 7l

Community bathhouses were noturrcommon.

"You could hear us?""l certainly could.""Natives. They make a lot of noise, but there's not much to them

really."He seemed to consider the er.rent quite routing and I said no more."Look_ They've come for a bath, over there acrocs the river. Damned if

they haventt seen us. look at them laugh." He pointed otrer at the publicbath, where six or seven naked figures showed through the steam.

One small figure ran out into the sunlight and stood for a moment at theedge of the plafform calling something to us, arms raised as though for aplunge into the river. It was the little dancer. I looked at her, at the younglegs, at the sculptured white body, and suddenly a draught of fresh waterseemed to wash over my heart I laughed happily. She was a child, a merechil4 a child who could run out naked into the sun and stand there on hertiptoes in her delight at seeing a friend. I laughed oq a soft, happy laugh.It was as though a layer of dust had been cleared from my head. And Ilaughed on and on. It was because of her too-rich hair that she had seemedolder, and because she was dressed like a girt of ftfteen or sixteen. I had madean extaordinary mistake indeed.

We were back in my room when the older of the two young womencame to look at the llorvers in the garden. The little dancer follor,ved her half-way across the bridge. The old woman came out of the bath frowning. Thedancer shrugged her shoulders and ran bach laughing as if to say that shewould be scolded if she came any nearer. The older young woman came upto the bddge.

"Come on over,l'she called to me."Come on over," the younger woman echoed, and the two of them

fumed back toward their inn.The man shyed on in my room till evening.

I was playing chess with a baveling salesman that night when I heardthe drum in the garden. I started to go out to the veranda.

"Hciw about another?" asked the salesman. "Lefs have anothergame." But I laughed evasively and after a lime he gave up and left theroom.

Soon the yotrnger women and the man came in."Do you have somewhere elv- to go tonight?" I asked"We couldn't find any customers if we tied."They stayed on till past midnight playrng away at checkers.I felt clear-headed and alive when they had gone. I would not be able

to sleep, I knew. From the hall I called in to the salesman."Fine, fine." He hunied out ready for battle.

72 Japon

"lt's an all-night match tonight we'll play all nighL" I felt invincibre-We were to leave Yugano at eight the next moming. I poked my school

cap into my book sach put on a hunting cap I had bought in a shop not farfrom the public bath, and went up to the inn by the hi,ghway. I walked conff-dently upstain-the shutters on the second floor were open-Uut I stoppedshort in the hall. They were still in bed.

The dancing grrl lay atmost lt rny feet, beside the youngest of thewomen. she flushed deeply and pressed her hands to her face with a quickflutter. Traces of make-up were left from the evening before, rouge on herlips and dots of rouge at the corners of her elres. A thoroughly appeahnglittle figure. I felt a bright surge of happiness as I looked do*rn at her. Abrupt-ly, still hiding her face, she rolled or.rer, slipped out of be4 and bowed lorpbeftorc me in the hall. I stood dumbly wondering what to do.

The man and the older of the young urornen urcre sleeping together.Theyr must be manied-l had not thought of it before."You will have to forgive us," the older woman sai4 sitting up in bed"We meant to leave today, but it seems there b to be a party tonighl and wethought we'd see what could be done with it If you reafly must go, perhapsyou can meet us in Shimoda. We always stay at the Koshuya Inn-. youshould have no houble finding it"

I felt deserted"Or, maybe you could wait till tomorrou/,1' the man suggested ..She

says we have to stay today. . . . But ifs good to have *rn"on" to talk to onthe road. Let's go together tomorrour."

"A splendid idea," the woman agreed. "lt seems a shame, noul thatwe've gotten to know you. . . and tomorrow we start out no matter whathappens. Day after tomonour lt will be forty-nine dagn since the baby died.we've meant all along to have a service in shimoda to shour that we atleast remember, and we've been hurrying to get there in time. It would reallybe very kind of you. . . . I can't help thinhng there's a reason for it all, ourgetting to be ftiends this way."

I agreed to wait another day, and went back doum to my inn. I sat in thedirty little offtce talking to the manager while I united for them to dress.Presently the man came by and we walked out to a pleasant bridge not farfrom town. He leaned against the railing and talked about himself. He hadfor a long tirhe belonged to a theater company in Tokyo. Even now he some-times acted in plays on Oshima, while at parties on the road he could doimitations of actors if called upon to. The strange, leglike bulge in one of thebundles was a stage sword, he explained" and the wicker bunk held bothhousehold goods and costumes.

"l made a mistake and ruined mysell My brother has taken over for thefamily in Kofu and I'm really not much use there."

Her behavior is rootedin Japanesc custon.Distinctions were madcon the basis of scx aswell as social class-

Yasunori Kawaboto 73

What subtle changeis taking place in thestudent's relationshipwith these people?

Eikichi (e kc ch€).Chiyoko (chc y0 ko).Kaoru (kii o ri.i).Yuriko (yii rE kb).

Contrast her behaviorwith what hc hadcxpected cadicr1p. 69I

Why surpisingly?

"l thought you came from the inn at Nagaoka.""l'm afraid not. That's my wife, the older of the two women. She's a year

younger than you. She lost her second baby on the road this summer-itonly lived a week-and she isn't really well yel The old woman is her mother,and the girl is my sister."

"You_said you had a sister thirteen?""Thats the one. I've tried to think of ways of keeping her out of this

business, but there were all sorts of reasons why it couldn't be helped."He said his own name was Eikichi, his wife was Chiyoko, the dancer, his

sister, was Kaoru. The other girl, Yuriko, was a sort of maid. She was six-teen, and the only one among them who was really from Oshima. Eihchibecame very sentimental. He gazed down at the river, and for a time Ithought he was about to weep.

4

on the way baclg just off the road, we sawthe little dancer petting a dog.She had washed away her make-up.

"Come on over to the inn," I called as we passed."l couldn't very well by myself.""Bring your brother.""Thank you. I'll be right over."A short fme later Eikchi appeared."Where are the others?""They couldn't get away from mother."But the three of them came clattering across the bridge and up the

stairs while we were playing checkers. Merelaborate bows they waitedhesitantly in the hall.

Chiyoko came in first. "Please, please," she called gaily to the others."You needn't stand on formali$ in my room."An hour or so later they all went down for a bath. I must come along

they insisted; but the idea of a bath with three young women was somewhatoverwhelming and I said I would go in later. In a moment the little dancercame back upstairs."Chiyoko says she'll wash your back for. you if you come downnow.tt

Instead she stayed with me, and the two of us prayed checkers. she wassurprisingly good at iL I am better than most and had little houble withEihchi and the otherq but she camevery near beating me. It was a retlef notto have to play a deliberately bad game. A model oflropriety ai first, sitting

7l Japan

bolt upright and shetching out her hand to make a play, she soon forgot. herself and was leaning intently over the board. Her haiq so rich it seemedunreal, almost brushed against my chest. Suddenly she flushed crimson.

"Excuse me. I'll be scolded fordris," she exclaimed, and ran outwithlhegame half finished. The older woman was standing beside the pubric bathicross the river. chiyoko and Yurillo clattered out of the bath downstairs atalmost the same moment and reheated across the bridge without botheringto saY good-bY'

Eihchi spent the day at my inn again, though the manager's wife, asolicitous sort of woman, had pointed out that it was a waste of good foodio invite such people in for meals.

The dancer was pmcticing the somisen when I went up to the inn by thehighway that evening. she put it down when she saw me, but at the olderwoman's order, took it up again.

Eikichi seemed to be reciting something on the second floor of therestaurant across the sheet, where we could see a party in progress.

"What in the world is that?""That? He's reading a Noh play.""An odd sort of thing to be doing.""He has as many wares as a dime store. you can never guess what hd'[

do next."The girl shyly asked me to read her a piece from a storlrtener"s collec-

tion. I took up the book happily, a ceftain hope in my mind. Her head wasalmost at my shoulder as I started to read, and she looked up at me with aserious, intent expression, her eyes bright and unblinhng. Her large eyegalmost blac[ were easily her best feature. The lines of the hearry lids wereindescribably graceful. And her laugh was like a flower's laugh. A flowefslaugh-the expression does not seem shained when I think of her.

I had read only a few minutes when the maid from the restaurant acrossthe sheet came for her. "l'll be right baclq" she said as she smoothed out herclothes. "Don't go away. I want to hear the rest."

She knelt in the hall to take her leave formally.we could see the girl as though in the ne:d room. she knert beside the

drum, her back toward us. The slow rhytrrm filed me with a clean excite-ment

- "A partgl always picks up speed when the drum begns,', the woman

said

. chiyoko and Yuriko went otrer to the restaurant a rittle later, and tn anhour or so the four of them came back

. 'jrtq is all they gave us." The dancer casually dropped fifty sen from her

clenched fist into the otder woman's hand. I read more of th" story, andtheyhlked of the baby that had die4

Again. notice theclass distinctions.

Noh play: a highlystylized play in theclassical tradition.

Yosunori Kawabsta 7S

t--

I was not held to them by curiosity, and I feh no condescension towardthem. Indeed I was no longer conscious that they belonged to that lour order,traveling performers. They seemed to know it and to be moved by it Beforelong they decided that I must visit them on Oshima.

"We can put him in the old man's house." They planned everythingout "Thatthould be big enough, and if we move the old man out it will bequiet enough for him to str,rdy as long as he can stay."

"We have two little houses, and the one on the mountain we can giveto you."

It was decide4 too, that I should help with a play they would give onOshima for the New Year.

I came to see that the life of the baveling performer was not the forbid'ding one I had imagined. Rather it was easy-going, relaxed, carrying with itthe scent of meadows and mountains. Then too this boupe was held togetherby close family affecfion. Only Yuriko, the hired Erl-perhaps she was at ashy age-seemed uncomfortable before me.

It was after midnight when I left their inn. The girls saw me to the door,and the little dancer tumed my sandals so that I could step into themwithouttwisting. She leaned out and gazed up at the clear s$. "Ah, the rnoon isup. And tomonow we'll be in Shimoda. I love Shimoda. We'll say prayerfor the baby, and mother witl buy me the comb she promised" and there areall sorb of things we can do after that Witl you take me to a movie?'

Something about Shimoda seems to have made it a home along theroad for performers who wander the region of the lzu and Sagami hotsprings.

5

The baggage was distibuted as on the day we came over Amagi Pass.The puppy, cool as a seasoned haveler, lay with ib forepaws on the olderwoman's arms. From Yugano we entered the mounhins again. We lookedout over the sea at the moming sun, warming our mountain mlley. At themouth of the river a beach opened wide and white.

"That's Oshima.""So big! You really wilt come, won't you?' the dancer said.For some r&rson-was it the cleamess of the autumn slcy that made lt

seem so?-the sea where the sun rose over lt was veiled in a springlike mlst.It was rcme ten miles to Shlmoda. For a lime the mountalns hid the sea.Chiyoko hummed a song, softly, lazily.

76 Japon

The road forked. One way was a little steep, but it was more than a mile. shorter than the other. Would I have the shorf steep way, or the long, easy

way? | took the short way.The road wound up through a fores! so steep now that climbing it was

tike climbing hand-over-hand up a wall. Dead leaves laid it over with a slip-pery coating. fu my breathing becafne more painful I felta perverse recltless-ness, and I pushed on faster and faster, pressing my ltnee down with myfist at each step. The others fell behin4 until presendy I could only hear theirvoices through the bees; but the dancer, shrg tucked high, came after mewith tiny little steps. she stayed always a couple of yards behind, neitherfiying to come nearer nor letting herself fall farther back sometimes twould speak to her, and she would stop and answer with a startled littlesmile. And when she spoke I would pause, hoping that she would come upeven with me, but always she waited until I had started out again, andfollowed the same two yards behind. The road grew steeper and moretwisted. I pushed myself on faster, and on she came, two yards behin4climbing eamestly and intently. The mountains were quiet. I could no longerhear the voices of the others.

"Where do you live in To\rc?""ln a dormitory. I don't really live in To\rc.""l've been in Tokyo. I went there once to dance, when the cherries

were in bloom. I was very little, though, and I don't remember anythingabout it."

"Are your parents living?" she would take up again, or, ,,Have youwer been to Kofu?" She talked of the movies in Shimoda, of the dladbaby.

We came to the summit. Layrng her drum on a bench among the deadaufumn weeds, she wiped her face with a handkerchief. After that she tumedher attention to h'er feef then changed her mind and bent down insteadto dust off the shrt of my kimono. I drew back surprised and she fel to oneknee- when she had brushed me off front and baclg bent low before me,she stood up to lower her shirb-they were still fucked up for walhng. rwas breathing heavily. She invited me to sit down.

A flock of small birds flew up beskle the bench. The dead reaves rust-led as they landed, so quiet was the air. I tapped the drum a couple of timeswith my finger, and the birds started up in alarm."Im thirsgl."

"shall I see if I can find you some water?' But a few minutes rater shecame back empty-handed through the yellowing tees."What do you do with yourself on Oshima?"

She mentioned two or three girls' names that meant nothlng to me, andrambled on with a shing of reminiscences. she was talhng not of oshima

Yosunori Kowobato 77

II

but of Kofu, apparently, of a grammarschool she had been in forthe firstandsecond grades. She talked ar0essly on as the memories of her friends cameback to her.

The two younger women and Eikichi came up about ten minutes later,and the oliler woman ten minutes later still. On the way dorpn I purposelystayed befiind talhng to Eihchi, but after two hundred yards or so the lit0edancer came running back up. "There's a spring below. They're waitingfor you to drink first."

I ran down with her. The water bubbled clear and clean from shadyrocks. The women were standing around it "Have a drink. We waitedfor you. We didn't think you would want to drink after we had slirredit up."

I drank from my cupped hands. The women were slow to leave. Theywet their handkerchiefs and washed the perspiration from their faces.

At the foot of the slope we came out on the Shimoda highway. Down thehighway, sending up columns of smoke here and therg were the ftres ofthe charcoal-makers. We stopped to rest on a pile of wood. The dancing girlbegan to curry the puppy's shaggy coat with a pinkish comb.

"You'll break the teeth," the older woman wamed."That's all right. I'm getting a new one in Shimoda."It was the comb she wore in her hair, and even back in Yugano I had

planned to ask for it when we got to Shimoda. I was a little upset to find hercombing the dog with it.

Ekichi and I walked on ten or fifteen yards ahead of them."But all he would have to do would be to get a gold tooth. Then you'd

never notice," the dancefs voice came to me suddenly. I looked backThey were obviously talhng about my crooked teeth. Chiyoko must

have brought the matter up, and the littlb dancer suggested a gold toothfor me- I felt no resentment at being talked about and no particular need tohear more. The conversation was subdued for a time.

"He's nice, isn't he," the girl's voice came again."He s€ems to be very nice.""He really is nice. I like having someone so nice."She had an open way of speahng a youthful, honest way of syrng

exacdy what came to her, that made it possible for me to think of m5nelf agfranldy, "nice." I looked up aneur at the mountaing so bright that theymade my eyes ache a little. I had come at nineteen to think of mSnelf as amisanthropg a lonely misfit and it was my depression at the thought thathad driven me to this lzu tip. And now I was able to look upon myself as"a nice person" in the weryday sense of the orpression. I find no way todescribe what this meant to me. The mountains grew brighter-we were get-ting near Shimoda and the sea.

7E Japan

Now and then, on the outskirts of a village, we would see a sign:"Vagrant Performers keeP oul"

The Koshuya was a cheap inn at the northem edge of Shimoda- Iwent up behind the rest to an atticlike room on the second floor. There wasno ceiling, and the roof sloped dourn so sharply that at the window over-looking the steet one could not silcomfortably upright-

"Your shoulder isn't stifP" The older woman was fussing over the girl."Your hands aren't sore?"

The girl went through ttre gmceful motions of beating a drum- "They're

not sore. I won't have any trouble. They're not sore at all.""Good. I was worried."I lifted the drum. "HeavSr!""lt's heavier than you'd thinh" she laughed. "lfs heavier than that

pack of youls."They exchanged greetings with the other guests. The hotel was full of

peddlers and wandering performers-Shimoda seemed to be a migrants'nesl The dancer handed out pennies to the inn children, who darted in andoul When I started to leave she ran to arrange my sandals for me in,thedoorway.

"You will take me to a movig won't you?" she whispered, almost toherself.

Ehchi and I guided part way by a rather disreputableJoohng man fromthe Koshuya, went on to an inn said to belong to an ex-mayor. We had abath together and lunch, ffsh new from the sea.

I handed him a little money as he left. "Buy some flowers for the ser-vices tomorrour," I said. I had explained that I would have to go back toTolgo on the moming boat I wes, as a matter of fac! out of money, but Itold them I had to be back in school.

'"Well, we'll see you this winter in any case," the older woman said-"We'll all come down to the boat to meet you. You must let us know whenyou're coming. You're to stay with us-we couldn't think of lettiqg you goto a hotel. We're expecting you, remember, and we'll all be dourn at theboat."

When the othgrs had left the room I asked Chiyoko and Yuriko to go toa movie with me. Chiyokq pale and tired, tay with her hands pressed toher abdomen. "l couldn'l thank you. fm simply not up to so muchwalhng."

Yuriko stared stiffly at the floor.The lide dancer was downstairs playing with the inn children. When

she saw me come down she ran off and began wheedling the older womanfor permission to go to the movies. She came back loohng distant andcres$atlen.

Yosunori Kawoboto 79

l"l don't see anything wrong. why can't she go with him by herselp"

Eikichi argued. I found it hard to understand myielf, but the *ornun **unbending. The dancer sat out in the hall petting a dog when I left the innI c9u!d not bring myself to speak to her, so chiriing was this new formality,and she seemed not to have the shength to look up.

I werrt to the movies alone. A woman read the dialogue by a smallflashlight. I left almost immediatety and went back to my inn. For a iong timeI sat looking ou! my elbows on the window silr. The tor,rrn was dark I thoughtI could hear a drum in the distance. For no very good reason I found rnyr"ttweeping.

6

Ehchi called up from the steet while I was eating breakfastatseven thenext moming. He had on a formal hmono, in my honor it seemed. Thewomen were not with him. I was suddenly lonesome."They all wanted to see you off," he exptained when he came up tomy room' "but we were out so late last night that thby couldn't get thlm-selves out of bed. They said to apologize and tell you iheyd be waiting foryou this winter."

An autumn wind blew cold througtr the town. on the way to the shiphe bought me fruit and tobacco and a bottre of a cotogne cailld ,.Kaoru.,'"Elecause her name's Kaoru," he smiled. "oranges ute bud on a ship, butpersimmons you can eat. They help seasickn-ess.'-"Why don't I give you this?" I put my-hunting .up on his head, puttedmy school cap out of my pack, and hig{ to smooth away a few of thewinldes. We both laughed.

As we came to the pier I saw with a quick jump of the heart that thelittle dancer was sitting at the water's edge. she did not -ou" as we came up,onfy nodded a silent greeting. on her tace were the baces of make-up ifound so engaging, and the rather angry red at the comers of her eyesseemed to gve her a fresh young dignlty."Are the others coming?" Ehchi asked.

She shook her head."They're still in bed?'She nodded.Eihchi went to buy ship and fighter lickeb. I bied to make conversa[on,

but she onty stared silenily at the point where the canal ran into the harbor.Norp and then she would nod a quick ritde nod, always before I had finis[edspeahng.

EO Jopan

\

The lighter pitched violently. The dancer stared fixedly ahead, her lips

nressed tight together. As I started up the rope ladder to the ship'l looked

[..f.. t wanted to say good-by, but I only nodded again. The lighter pulled

otf. fin tri waved the hunting cap, and as the town reheated,into the dis-

bnce the girl began to wave something white.

I leaned against the railing an{gazed out at Oshima until the southem

fip of the lzu Peninsula was out of sighl It seemed a long while before that

I'had said good-by to the little dancer. I went inside and on to mystateroom.

The sea was so rough that it was hard a.ren to sit up. A crewman came around

to pass out metal basins for the seasick I lay down with my book sack for apillow, my mind clear and empty. I was no longer conscious of the passage

bf tr". I wept silently, and when my cheek began to feel chilly I tumed my

book sack over. A young boy lay beside me. He was the son of an lzu

factory ourer, he explained and he was going to Tolcyo to get ready for

highschool enhance examinations. My school cap had athacted him."h something wrong?" he asked after a time."No. I've just said good-by to someone." I saw no need to disguise the

tuth, and I was quite unashamed of my tears. I thought of nothing. It was asthough I were slumbering in a sort of quiet fulfillment I did not know wheno.rening came, but there were lights on when we passed Atami. I was hung4land a little chilly. The boy opened his lunch and I ate as though it were mine.Afterwards I covered myself with part of his cape. I floated in a beautifulemptiness, and it seemed natural that I should take advantage of his hnd-ness. Everything sank into an enfolding harmony.

The lights went out, the smell of the sea and of the fish in the hold grewstonger. In the darkness, warmed by the boy beside me, I gave myself upto my tears. It was as though my head had tumed to cleiir water, it wasfalling pleasantly away drop by drop; soon nothing would remain. n

In what ways has hisrecent experienceaffected his behaviortoward the boy?

1. To what extent does this story presenta conflict between baditional and modemvalues? Cite specific examples in youranswer.2. It is possible to draw up a sizable list ofthings the story reveals about life in Japanprior to Wodd War II. Hourever, whatuniversal elements does it contain?3. Was the young man in love with Kaoru?Was she in love with him? When Kaoruspills tea in the young man's saucer

the older woman says that Kaoru has grownto a "dangerous" age (p. 7Q line 32).What does she mean?4. Do you think the young man ever sawKaoru again? Explain.5. Cd$cs cite as Kawabata's majorachievemenb his descriptiors of theJapanese landscape and his porhayal ofwomen. In light of this selecfon do youagree on either point? on both? Supportyour answeF

Yosunari Kowabata El