Customer Reviews

Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This is a review of Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories, translated by Jay Rubin and published in 2006. Not Rashomon and Other Stories, the name of two other shorter books by other translators that were published years ago. Why Amazon groups together the three books despite their different contents, I don't know; no stars for them.

The author, Akutagawa (1892-1927), is even today considered one of Japan's most accomplished short-story writers. As some reviewers say, he's not for everyone. But readers attracted to the dark, pessimistic and atmospheric, or to the introspective and psychological subtleties conveyed with style in his best stories, might find some of his works worthwhile.

He published about 150 stories between 1914 and his death; a scholar of his work has written somewhere that about half of them are still readable. There's a big gap between the best and the rest. Before this collection, some 60 of the stories had been translated into English since the 1930s. Here, eight more appear in English for the first time. The translator claimed nine, but a translation by Lawrence Rogers of "The Death Register" appeared earlier, in 2002.

Akutagawa's short-story career can be divided roughly into three periods. In the early works, from 1914 to 1922, at his best he drew inspiration from Japanese folktales and history and a range of non-Japanese sources, focusing on the characters' psychology to make them strikingly modern. Of the early works, the best known in English are "The Nose" (1916), "Kesa and Morito" (1918), "H-ll Screen" (1918) and "In a Grove" (1921), besides the vignette "Rashomon" (1915).

In the middle period, from 1922 or so to 1925, he sought more frequently and somewhat less successfully to make the settings of his writing more contemporary, while beginning to draw more deeply from his own life. Many of the works from the late period, from 1926 or so to his death, were heavily autobiographical, with his unease and despondency strongly apparent. Among the best-known works from the late period are "The Life of a Fool," "Spinning Gears" and "Kappa," all from 1927.

This anthology devoted about two-thirds of its pages to the early period, with the remainder split between middle and late. The translator sought a balance between retranslations of the author's well-known pieces from throughout his career -- most of the stories already mentioned, plus the beautifully compressed moral tale "The Spider's Thread" -- and first-time translations of lesser-known ones from the early and middle periods. The first-time translations, it was claimed, showed a funnier, more shocking and more imaginative side than had appeared previously in English.

Of the first-time translations, most enjoyed were those from the middle period: "Daidoji Shinsuke: The Early Years" (1924), the author's recollections of growing up in Tokyo in which his early psychology came strikingly alive, and "The Baby's Sickness" (1923) and "The Writer's Craft" (1924), in which he depicted with concern or irony the details of his family and working life. It seems that translations of autobiographical stories from this period haven't been published widely before, if at all. So they appear to be one of this anthology's main contributions.

Stories from the author's early period that were translated for the first time covered subjects such as harassed Christian villagers in the provinces in earlier times and an insane feudal retainer in Edo. Though maybe not on the level of his very best writing from this period, they too helped provide a more complete picture of his work. In particular, his story about a Christian who renounced her religion in an attempt to save her daughter, who then died, showed again his great ability to depict the macabre in ways that can't be forgotten.

Of the retranslations, maybe what's most worthwhile is that the versions provided here of the late works "The Life of a Fool" and "Spinning Gears" are better than the previous ones, more nuanced and more polished.

The main short stories I missed in this anthology were "Kesa and Morito," a brilliantly reimagined event from Japanese medieval times told in the first person, from the clashing perspectives of a man and a woman. And "Tangerines" (1919), a memorable vignette of observation and feeling during a train ride taken by the narrator. These were missed because for me this author, except in his moral tales, is often at his best in the early stories when speaking through other characters in the first person. Or in the works before his late period when he's describing events drawn from his own life but is in full control. Otherwise, too often the earlier stories feel a bit detached or in the late pieces his nervous sensibility becomes too jarring.

The anthology seems to have been a labor of love by the translator, who reevaluated the author's complete works and retranslated a number of the best-known stories, instead of just reprinting previous versions. There was an introduction by the writer Haruki Murakami that was useful for a Japanese perspective on Akutagawa's life, problems and significance. The collection also supplied a detailed chronology of the author's life and many scholarly footnotes. It contained several more stories than the other large anthologies, Glenn Shaw's Tales Grotesque and Curious (1930), Takashi Kojima's Japanese Short Stories (1961) and Exotic Japanese Stories (1964), Seiji Lippit's The Essential Akutagawa (1999), and Charles De Wolf's Mandarins (2007). It's the most careful and detailed of any collection for this author that I've seen.

Still, it lacked works of his that are well worth reading. For that reason, those who enjoyed it might also like the other collections, especially the ones by Lippit and De Wolf. The quality of the translations in Lippit varies -- unlike Rubin's book, numerous translators were involved -- and about half the titles are the same. But from the early period Lippit offers strong pieces set in the past that supplement the ones in Rubin, such as "Kesa and Morito," "Tu Tze-Chun" (1920), "Autumn Mountain" (1921) and "The Faint Smiles of the Gods" (1922). His anthology also contains Akutagawa's erudite but grim note of farewell.

The anthology by De Wolf offers a mix of the familiar, including new versions of "Tangerines" and "Kesa and Morito," and tales translated for the first time. Compared to Rubin and Lippitt, De Wolf devotes less space to the macabre early stories set in the past and more to the variety of styles in the author's career. There are a number of tales from the early period set in contemporary times, for example, including "The Garden" (1922). And "Winter" (1927), a late but masterful story that isn't obsessively autobiographical.

Shaw's anthology also contains earlier works well worth reading, such as "Mori Sensei," "Lice" and "The Wine Worm," as well as good versions of "The Handkerchief" and "The Ball."

This reader hopes that translators of future collections for this author will take the opportunity to introduce into English a few more of his still-untranslated works, among them "The Story of St. Christopher" (1919), which has been called a stylistic tour de force, "A Day in the Life of Oishi Kuranosuke" (1917), and "Lechery" (1921). Or maybe even something from his essays, like "Words of a Dwarf." Aside from the interest of his best works, he stands out as one of the more sensitive writers of his time and place during a period of massive change. And not least, as a personality.

Considered to be one of the greatest national writers of Japan, Ry'nosuke Akutagawa had a short but brilliant career in the early twentieth century. This collection includes some of his best known short stories, such as "Rash'mon", "Spinning Gears", "Loyalty", and "The Nose", as well as some of his lesser-known works. The stories range from humorous, to historical, to agonizingly autobiographical. The Penguin Classics edition also includes a wonderfully insightful introduction by Haruki Murakami.

For much of Akutagawa's early career, he delved into Japan's literary past. The story "Loyalty" is a complex tale based on a true event that took place during the Tokugawa period, when the young head of a noble family went insane, creating a crisis among his samurai retainers. Samurai were meant to be loyal to the death, but that loyalty also extended to the Shogun. If one's master posed a thread to the Shogun, where should your loyalty lie? This is the problem that faces two very different retainers, each of whom must make an almost impossible decision. The story explores not only loyalty, but the issues of sanity, respect, obligation, and shame.

Some of the more humorous stories include "Horse Legs" and "The Story of a Head That Fell Off", both involving dead men who suffer terrible humiliations, one at the hand of some spiritual bureaucrats, and the other because of a medical miracle. But the final section of the book, which include those selections that tell Akutagawa's own story, is possibly the most moving and compelling. Akutagawa's childhood was difficult, as his mother went insane shortly after his birth. He was afraid of mental illness for the remainder of his life, and the final story of the book, "Spinning Gears" tells the tale of his last months spent in depression and constant anxiety. He suffered from insomnia, hallucinations, and constantly worried about his own sanity. It is the final passage of the story that conveys Akutagawa's overwhelming despair:

"I don't have the strength to keep writing this. To go on living with this feeling is painful beyond description. Isn't there someone kind enough to strangle me in my sleep"

The story was published posthumously in 1927, the year Akutagawa took his own life. The story progresses toward that inevitable conclusion, and gives us an insight into Akutagawa's tortured mind.

Please, this refers to the Jay Rubin translation with the Barefoot Gen style graphic cover. Do not be deceived: This is not a "graphic novel" representation of the seventeen Akutagawa short stories in the style of the excellent and important historical Barefoot Gen series. You cannot tell from the Search Inside feature generously provided, which refers to another edition and another translator. This I refer to to is the Jay Rubin translation published by Penguin in 2006, and already available very economically. It is not a graphic novelization like Gen; it is the straight presentation of an excellent translation highly recommended to the thoughtful reader of advanced short stories.

Other reviewers have mentioned Kafka. I would add the early symbolist stories of James Joyce presented in cold realist style. But please do not categorize nor pigeon hole these profound presentations of reality from a meditative, Asian perspective. Enter this world without fear and ready to learn. Come with your cup emptied, ready to fill and to fill it up again.

Other reviewers have adequately explicated this excellent and generous collection which arrives to my grateful hands today. Finally perhaps something will release Mr. Joyce long enough from my hands to consider another author, having studied so long and frequently the film of Rashomon. Criterion's excellent restoration and commentary are well worth acquisition and stand up under repeated viewing of their DVD (as they choose among HDTV formats). Please notice here the orignal stories (also included in the Criterion package with different translator- a crucial point of departure) and the transfer of titles.

A great book for a quiet day. A great book for mass transport if you can focus in silence. I cannot destroy the tales by a clumsy attempt at summary. REpeated reading is rewarded by more profound understanding, just as walking through a village every day for a year will finally grant some slight perception of its realities and rhythms. I wish these were available on audio book as my over-worn eyes fade in to the gloom.

i rented this book from the library. i loved it so much, the catch phrases, and such, that i wanted to write in it and develop my own ideas on it. so i went out and bought it. (can i say that borders sucks! BN all the way) 12.95 later... i know, right? i have it. though, not the version i wanted. why do all the reprinted covers look so much worse. and no illustrations! i just couldn't understand how if he died in 1927, he made allusions to the holocaust, which occurred in the 40s. my favorite story was Yabu no Naka. this story, (in a grove), i liked because of the plot twist at the end. i also liked Kesa to Morito. same reason. i find it odd that both of these stories involved rape, and in hope to conceal their shame, the victim conspires to kill her husband. more creative on Kesa's part (i liked the monologues), but i liked the change of view in Yabu no Naka and how he felt sliding into death. ANOTHER short story compilation?? what am i thinking?! the lack of change of view in Ryuu was interesting as well, though i did not quite understand the aim of the outer frame (in the frame story, pocket 10 cents from ninth grade english), and it seemed redundant. a hollow way to end the book. (though it wasn't quite an ending because it was just a collection compiled some twenty some years after the author's death (in `52) to reflect his best work. not in my opinion, but hey.) AND i did like the foreword by the english guy. i did not like the title story Rashomon named after a ruined torii in Kyoto. it seemed short and empty. as if it tried to have a plot, a purpose, to teach a lesson or moral, but failed. It was was easy to tell what scenery the author was familiar with because he used the same prefectures, rivers, cities, and mountains over again.

"Rashomon" tells the story of a "lowly servant" sheltering from the rain on the steps of a rashomon (outer castle gate). He has recently been laid off and sits pondering his future. He hears a sound and ventures inside the rashomon to see what it was. Inside are heaps of dead bodies from the recent plague and a strange old woman wandering about, going through the corpses' clothes. The servant attacks the old woman, strips her of her clothing, throws her onto the heap, and runs off.

"In a Bamboo Grove" features a married couple and a robber. The story is told from the perspective of all witnesses and it emerges that the husband was murdered but who did it and why is the mystery.

These are the two most famous Akutagawa stories and are an excellent start to the collection. However, afterwards they become quite mediocre and even a bit tedious. The forced gothic of "Hell Screen" plods along until a near hysterical ending that undermines the seriousness of the story, that of obsession and the artistic mind. "The Nose" is a very odd story about a priest with a very big nose, has it shortened, and it grows back again. It's one of those "be grateful for what you have, accept who you are" type tales and not nearly as brilliant as Gogol's "The Nose" (Gogol being one of Akutagawa's influences and, frankly, a better short story writer).

As the title suggests there are 18 stories here but those are the only ones I can remember. The last couple in the section called "Akutagawa's Own Story" are interesting, with "Life of a Stupid Man" playing with form and presenting an interesting take on autobiography through small snippets of a life glimpsed in passing. "Spinning Gears" is the final story he wrote before his suicide (pills) and is about the slowly disintegrating mind of Akutagawa. The desperation and mounting paranoia give the reader an insight into Akutagawa's fragile and fractured mindset. The strange imagery is also fascinating. The spinning gears he sees around his eyes confuse and scare him while at every turn he sees signs of death - a decaying animal corpse, dying people in hospitals, and above all his morbid fear of going insane like his mother.

I won't say I didn't enjoy the book as there were some stories here that were excellent, and whether it's Jay Rubin's translation or not, the writing was always of a high standard. And students of literature will find reading "Rashomon" and "In a Bamboo Grove" very rewarding as will film students who are interested in the work of Kurasawa who based his film "Rashomon" on those stories. But compared to other short story writers and other Japanese writers, Akutagawa isn't nearly on their level.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Rashomon and 17 Other Stories (Penguin, 2006)

I'll admit I picked this up less because it was Akutagawa than the bit that said "illustrated by Yoshihiro Tatsumi", who's been one of the best in the business for over thirty years. When I actually got it, I found out Tatsumi was only responsible for the cover, but I went ahead and read it anyway. Eighteen of Akutagawa's stories, including "Rashomon" and "In a Grove" (the two stories that, in combination, Kurosawa adapted into the movie Rashomon). Very simple, almost stark at times. Haruki Murakami, in his introduction, stops short of naming Akutagawa as the founder of Japanese modernism, but all signs seem to point that way; if you're a fan of Japanese modernism, this is a no-brainer. For others-- well, if you haven't been exposed to any Japanese media culture at all, you might be in for something of a surprise. Not so much on the level of the stories themselves, which are quite wonderful and universal in their emotional scope, but in the directness of Akutagawa's prose style. This isn't the kind of thing you'll find in American story anthologies; we tend to gussy things up with flowery language and endless subplots and Moments of Great Import(TM). Akutagawa just has a story to tell (in many of the earlier stories, he's just retelling old fairy tales in new language, though the later stories show a more autobiographical side), and he tells it, and that's the end of it. You may find this as refreshing as I do, just be aware of what's lurking between these covers. ****

I bought the new Penguin Classic, Rashōmon and Seventeen Other Stories by Japanese author, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa (1892-1927), with the intention of furthering my knowledge of Japanese fiction and its writers beyond Mishima and the spaghetti obsessed Murakami. What I found in this collection is an interesting mix of stories providing an adequate introduction to Akutagawa, but not enough, perhaps, to interest me further.

Preceded by a foreward by the aforementioned Haruki Murakami, the collection is split into four parts by translator Jay Rubin. This division is to differentiate the works between different parts of the author's short life much like Picasso's output can be pigeonholed into such periods as blue and rose. So, we have his early retelling of Japanese legends and anecdotes through to conflicts between native religion and Christianity missionaries, on to modern works highlighting both tragic and comic circumstances, before reaching his biographical work in which he showcased his own madness.

For me, the earlier stories of Akutagawa proved more interesting. Rashōmon, which provided the title for Akira Kurosawa's 1950 film, is followed by In A Bamboo Grove, the story upon which the film was based. The Nose, a comic tale of vanity, is followed by the great Dragon: A Potter's Tale, which in turn is followed by the wonderful, albeit predictable, Hell Screen, a story about an artist who requires to see his subject matter so that he may capture it on canvas; thus, when commissioned to paint Hell, he sets about having his vision of Hell recreated before him so that he may recreate it with measured strokes.

Of the later stories there are few standouts, although that may just be my preference for stories set in a highly romanticised medieval Japan than in a period (the 1920s) in which I know little of the nation. The stereotypical legends of samurai, peasants, and overlords sit far more comfortably with me than a beautiful history deeply influenced by western imports. One of the better stories is Horse Legs, a Kafkaesque tale in which a Japanese Gregor Samsa wakes to find that he has equine legs, complete with hooves, and there follows comic situations as he attempts to hide his secret from everyone, notably the wife whom he shares his bed. The Writer's Craft was another story that sat well with me, a tale about how the appreciation of an author's work is not determined by the time put in but by how others interpret it within their own lives.

The collection gathers together a blend of Akutagawa's well known short pieces in addition to a bunch of stories translated to English for the first time. While some of these freshly translated stories appealed, I couldn't help feel it was a cynical attempt to force a few new tales on those already initiated with the author's work: one story, for example, is just a fragment of a longer unfinished piece.

Akutagawa's writing, at least in translation, is certainly vibrant and his stories come at you from all manner of narrators, the most common seeming to be told from the point of view of someone who witnessed the events but was not integral to the plot. Later stories, such as The Life Of A Stupid Man, show interesting attempts at style but the narrative (a series of numbered paragraphs with individual titles) is so personal that it would seem to be only of interest to friends and family of the author, in addition to Akutagawa scholars.

All in, this book serves to give me an introduction to the author and, with the extensive footnotes, a further understanding of different periods in Japan's history. But, given my indifference to many of the stories, especially Akutagawa's more personal pieces, I doubt I'll go in search of his previously translated works, although the occasional retelling of previous Japanese tales may be enough to pique my interest in much the same way a cookie may keep me satisfied until teatime.

I was expecting a lot when I first opened Rashomon and 17 other stories, and I was not let down. Ryunosuke Akutagawa has an amazing style, and also led an interesting and difficult life. I recommend that anyone considering this product get it, whether it be from a used book store or a new copy. You won't be let down.

Roshomon is one version on the subject of personal versions of the truth. "Outrage", with Paul Newman and Claire Bloom, is a film version of the same theme. A rape occurs, the witnesses have different opinions. The fact of intercourse between the character played by Newman and Bloom is a fact. Whether it is rape or love depends on who is telling the story.

This story translated from Japanese is well written, worth reading,and skillfully touches on this eternal debate.

The current popular version of this debate seems to be that facts and truth do not exist.

However, the sun rises from east to west. A man can not be younger than his mother. Are these facts, or is it possible they are just opinions or a subject of an extensive debate?

The world, according to some, is flat. As absurd as such a belief is today, someone who argues that from his perspective,the world does appear flat has merit. Objects do not fall into space, but sit ridgely on a table. Without the benefit of contact with modern science one could argue his opinion without being considered mentally ill. But, that same person he could not argue that the sun always rises in one place, and sets in another; or that he can not be younger than his natural mother.

The philosopy that no facts exist, or that all actions depend on personal observation is currently a popular theory. In the recent past, the majority of the world heard a US President state he did not have sex with a woman. He then justified that comment, to avoid commiting perjury, that from his point of view, his actions were not "sexual". For personal reasons of their own, others concured that his point of view was correct, and he did not suffer from an abberation.

"Crime and Punishment" is a story of a man, who decides that a selfish and evil woman should be robbed. In the course of the robbery, she is killed. And a completly innocent person is also killed. The writer creates a justification for the actions of the killer. He considers himself better than the murdered woman,more worthy and entitled to live. The torment within his mind and judgment of society eventually exposes that facts and truth. Some one was killed, and killed them. Ethical discussion and personal opinion is not sustained, and punishment follows.

The current trend of philosophy seems to be tacking in a different direction. A more recent Woody Allen movie, also named "Crime and Punishment" moves away from the act of murder to a justification based on circumstance. The killer by proxy, is a sucessful, married man who is tempted into an affair. He is honest with the woman. He is married and in love with his wife, and would never leave her. His point of view remains constant. The mistress has fallen in love and wants him to leave his wife. The ehtical problem presented is to prevent hurting his wife; and more selfishly to maintain his reputation and career. His choice, based on his conception of honesty, is that he is the person wronged. In his mind, the only solution is to rid himself of the woman. Although tormented by his decision, he feels justified in having the "trouble" removed by a hired assassin. The idea of killing his mistress is too revolting, as is the act itself. However, he goes on with his life, and the viewer is left with the perspective that the personal torment begins to fade as he goes on with his life.

The new philosphy is the fact of the murder has somehow been justified from the perspective that the murder was not murder, but a difficult but justifiable judgment. Whether the mistress was killed, a fact; or murdered as a result of an ethical perspective of one person, must be decided by the viewer or reader.

I am enjoying the book. However, the binding fell apart and most of the pages have fallen out. I have had to tape them back in to finish reading the book.