Kokoro

"It is one of the best-known works of fiction by one of Japan’s best-known authors, so I was reluctant to select it for that very reason. But I have a soft spot for Kokoro, probably because it was the first novel I read entirely in Japanese. Natsume Sōseki was a wonderful writer and his prose is incredibly beautiful. I find the novel fascinating because it is about a nation on the verge of dramatic change. Sōseki’s life (1867–1916) overlapped almost entirely with the Meiji period (1868–1912), and the novel articulates the sensibilities of the late Meiji era and the tensions of a modernising nation. There is a scene in the beginning of the novel where the student is watching people bobbing about in the sea, suggesting that we are all somehow adrift in a sea of modernity. At the end of the Meiji era, people were struggling to make sense of the implications of living in the modern world. In the novel, the student leaves behind his family and his hometown to pursue the life of a modern intellectual in Tokyo, but he comes to realise that there is always a price to be paid for one’s choices in life. When you read Kokoro , there is a palpable tension that is sustained throughout – from the first pages to the last. It is a riveting read, a novel that grips you on an almost visceral level; it draws you in and refuses to let you go, even at the end of the narrative. This one of the key motifs of the novel, the question of legacy – of things being handed down from one generation to the next. Sensei passes on his secrets to the student, and we, as readers of the novel, also become purveyors of that knowledge. As the novel demonstrates, knowledge is never without its costs. I would describe Kokoro as a sublime piece of literature, but it is also a very sombre novel. A student once asked me the very question: ‘Is there any Japanese literature that’s not depressing?’ And I thought: ‘No, not really.’ But of course, that is not entirely true. There is light-hearted fiction to be found in modern Japanese literature, but I must confess that such writing holds less appeal for me. And this selection of five books is a relatively positive offering! My research interests also include proletarian writing and atomic bomb literature, neither of which is terribly cheerful."