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飼育
大江健三郎的原點
傳說中的名篇復活
諾貝爾文學獎得主大江健三郎的原點
傳說中悲憫之神般的名篇復活
小人物在大環境中掙扎的眾生相
嚴厲控訴，滿懷悲憫，站在理想頂端的文學大師風範
本書共收錄了六篇小說：飼育、死者的招待、他人之足、人羊、不意之啞、今日之戰，為大江健三郎早期的成名作，發表於一九五七、一九五八年，受到先前的第二世界大戰影響，主題緊扣強烈的反戰思想，與人性的思索，其中〈飼育〉為第三十九屆芥川賞得獎作品。
死者的招待
管理員領著我與女學生走進地下室，裡面的水池，灌滿黃褐色的液體，死者們的雙眼死死閉著，在水池中時而安靜，時而吵雜地自言自語。而我們的工作，就是將這些死「物」們，搬運到更換新水的水槽中，將沉在下面不堪解剖使用的老舊屍體「處理掉」……
他人之足
未成年病房的我們，是一群身體不能自由移動的安靜小孩，在與世隔絕的病房，我們默默承受著護士對我們的「捉弄」，為的是從中獲得帶點羞恥的小小快樂。一天，一個學生加入我們，他要推翻這小社會的規則，檢討醫院的生活，並討論國際情勢……
飼育
在山裡打獵維生的我們而言，戰爭只是偶爾抬頭從天空飛過的戰機，直到有天，村人們擄獲了一頭穿著軍裝的「獵物」黑鬼，由我負責送飯，我覺得這真是個難以言喻的美好獵物啊，他貪婪的吃相與體臭，讓我的臉頰發燙，閃耀著瘋狂的情緒……
人羊
最後一班開往郊外的巴士，載著即將歸營的外國士兵，士兵們像剝動物皮毛般拔下我的外套，扯下我的褲子，然後拍打我已被凍得沒感覺的屁股，我們是群無助的「羊兒」。其餘坐著的「羊兒們」沒人回應想仗義直言的男教師，沉默地低著頭……
不意之啞
一輛載著外國兵的吉普車由黎明的霧中駛來，難得見到外國兵的村民們或好奇、或忐忑，原本平靜進行著狩獵、耕作、養蜂等的日常工作步調被不知不覺攪亂了。態度比起外國兵來顯得更加蠻橫的隨車日本口譯員，因為一雙遺失的鞋子，小題大作的追究方式，在淳樸的山中村落掀起了一場生死攸關的軒然大波……
今日之戰
那些殺人犯，需要贖罪的羊……我不過是對政治稍微有著像感染熱病般的學院青年，玩笑似與弟弟接下一個暗地裡發送反戰冊子，呼籲士兵逃離戰線的祕密活動。直到一名逃兵真實地出現尋求協助，密告、收留、軍法審判……我們現在做的不是正常人會做的事，如果到死都得保護這個男人的話……
傳說中的名篇復活
諾貝爾文學獎得主大江健三郎的原點
傳說中悲憫之神般的名篇復活
小人物在大環境中掙扎的眾生相
嚴厲控訴，滿懷悲憫，站在理想頂端的文學大師風範
本書共收錄了六篇小說：飼育、死者的招待、他人之足、人羊、不意之啞、今日之戰，為大江健三郎早期的成名作，發表於一九五七、一九五八年，受到先前的第二世界大戰影響，主題緊扣強烈的反戰思想，與人性的思索，其中〈飼育〉為第三十九屆芥川賞得獎作品。
死者的招待
管理員領著我與女學生走進地下室，裡面的水池，灌滿黃褐色的液體，死者們的雙眼死死閉著，在水池中時而安靜，時而吵雜地自言自語。而我們的工作，就是將這些死「物」們，搬運到更換新水的水槽中，將沉在下面不堪解剖使用的老舊屍體「處理掉」……
他人之足
未成年病房的我們，是一群身體不能自由移動的安靜小孩，在與世隔絕的病房，我們默默承受著護士對我們的「捉弄」，為的是從中獲得帶點羞恥的小小快樂。一天，一個學生加入我們，他要推翻這小社會的規則，檢討醫院的生活，並討論國際情勢……
飼育
在山裡打獵維生的我們而言，戰爭只是偶爾抬頭從天空飛過的戰機，直到有天，村人們擄獲了一頭穿著軍裝的「獵物」黑鬼，由我負責送飯，我覺得這真是個難以言喻的美好獵物啊，他貪婪的吃相與體臭，讓我的臉頰發燙，閃耀著瘋狂的情緒……
人羊
最後一班開往郊外的巴士，載著即將歸營的外國士兵，士兵們像剝動物皮毛般拔下我的外套，扯下我的褲子，然後拍打我已被凍得沒感覺的屁股，我們是群無助的「羊兒」。其餘坐著的「羊兒們」沒人回應想仗義直言的男教師，沉默地低著頭……
不意之啞
一輛載著外國兵的吉普車由黎明的霧中駛來，難得見到外國兵的村民們或好奇、或忐忑，原本平靜進行著狩獵、耕作、養蜂等的日常工作步調被不知不覺攪亂了。態度比起外國兵來顯得更加蠻橫的隨車日本口譯員，因為一雙遺失的鞋子，小題大作的追究方式，在淳樸的山中村落掀起了一場生死攸關的軒然大波……
今日之戰
那些殺人犯，需要贖罪的羊……我不過是對政治稍微有著像感染熱病般的學院青年，玩笑似與弟弟接下一個暗地裡發送反戰冊子，呼籲士兵逃離戰線的祕密活動。直到一名逃兵真實地出現尋求協助，密告、收留、軍法審判……我們現在做的不是正常人會做的事，如果到死都得保護這個男人的話……
296 pages, Paperback
Published August 4, 2011
4 people are currently reading
44 people want to read
About the author
Kenzaburō Ōe
237 books1,684 followersKenzaburō Ōe (大江 健三郎) was a major figure in contemporary Japanese literature. His works, strongly influenced by French and American literature and literary theory, engages with political, social and philosophical issues including nuclear weapons, social non-conformism and existentialism.
Ōe was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1994 for creating "an imagined world, where life and myth condense to form a disconcerting picture of the human predicament today."
Ōe was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1994 for creating "an imagined world, where life and myth condense to form a disconcerting picture of the human predicament today."
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
September 25, 2022
There was a tremendous difference between these dead and bodies that were cremated im mediately after death. The corpses floating in the tank possessed the solidity and the inde pendence of consummate "objects." But those others were still moving slowly away from consciousness, traversing an ambiguous middle ground, when they were incinerated: they didn't have time to become perfect objects. I stared at the "objects" crowding the tank, at the dead who had completed the perilous transition. There was nothing uncertain or temporary about them, they were solid, stable "objects" just like the floor and the tank and the skylight; the thought made me shiver with excitement.
Of course we're objects. And pretty ingeniously put together at that. A man who's cremated as soon as he dies never knows the sense of volume and weight, or the feeling of solidity you get when you're an object.
It sounded right to me. Death was an object. But I had only comprehended it as an aspect of consciousness. Death as an object began where consciousness ended. And death off to a good start, enduring for years in a tank of alcohol, was waiting to be dissected."
Ōe Kenzaburō wrote this short story in 1958, but the 'shock' factor buried within every other carefully crafted sentence still persist to this day.
A French literature student takes on a part-time job shifting corpses meant for teaching medical students, from one 'tank' filled with formaldehyde and alcohol to another. He is accompanied by a girl on this job, guided by a superintendent. They go about this task as the hours slip by, and with each tick of the clock, the protagonist slips a bit further into a rabbit hole. From thinking of the dead bloated corpses as mere objects, he soon starts thinking of himself as one with them-
I stood there stupidly while a great weariness bloomed, mushroomed through my body. That was a living person. And the living, who were equipped with consciousness, wrapped them selves in thick, mucous membranes and rejected me. I had stepped into the world of the dead. And when I returned to the midst of the living, everything became difficult, I had just taken my first fall. Maybe I had become too deeply involved in this work and wouldn't be able to get out: it was an ominous feeling.
And then, we also get to peek into his thoughts as he gets an erection after seeing a thirteen year old female corpse's flower bud.
A stark contrast is offered to this scene of death and rot, with the girl being revealed as pregnant. She had decided on getting an abortion and thus had taken the job to afford it.
"What do you think would happen if I let things go as they are?" the girl said. "I'd be assuming a terrible responsibility, just by doing nothing for nine months. My feelings about my own life are uncertain enough as it is, yet I'd be giving birth to another new un certainty. It would be just as serious as murdering somebody. All I'd have to do is wait without doing anything and it would be just as serious as that."
The ironical humour of the matter comes to light later, as she decides to keep the child after hauling corpses all day long. This hope, is in turn squashed again by Kenzaburō when she slips and falls, deeming the life of her baby as uncertain.
Ōe writes about war as well, not unlike majority of Japanese authors, but uses an army deserter's corpse to introduce the conversation, with the protagonist answering the dead's unvoiced questions.
"Nobody can be as convincing as I am, no matter how clear his thoughts on war are. Because I soak here without moving, just the way I was when they killed me."
I saw the bullet wound in the soldier's side; it was shaped like a withered flower petal, darker than the skin around it, thickly discolored.
"Do you remember the war? You must have been just a child?"
"I was growing up", I said to myself-- "all during that long war. I grew up at a time when the only hope from day to unhappy day was that the war would end. And the air was so thick with signs that hope remained that I was suffocated and felt that I was dying. The war ended, the adults digested its corpse in minds like stomachs, the indigestible solids and the mucus were excreted- but I had nothing to do with all that. And before we even realised what had happened, our hopes had faded away like mist."
His theme, if one can speak of themes apart from specific books, is the dignity of man, or rather the indignity to which society exposes him. Most of Ōe's characters are young people like himself and most of them are in flight, seeking in sex and violence and the most insidious brands of self-deceit, as an escape from the humiliations of living in a depraved world.
The story ends in medias res, with the dead being hauled out of the tank and into a truck headed towards a crematorium. The old corpses were to be cremated, and replaced in turn with new corpses. Kenzaburō doesn't allow the reader to know what becomes of the protagonist or the girl as the outcome is unimportant, for Ōe is primarily concerned with what happens to a man when he is confronted with abnormality and in how he degrades himself in attempting to escape degradation.
Of course we're objects. And pretty ingeniously put together at that. A man who's cremated as soon as he dies never knows the sense of volume and weight, or the feeling of solidity you get when you're an object.
It sounded right to me. Death was an object. But I had only comprehended it as an aspect of consciousness. Death as an object began where consciousness ended. And death off to a good start, enduring for years in a tank of alcohol, was waiting to be dissected."
Ōe Kenzaburō wrote this short story in 1958, but the 'shock' factor buried within every other carefully crafted sentence still persist to this day.
A French literature student takes on a part-time job shifting corpses meant for teaching medical students, from one 'tank' filled with formaldehyde and alcohol to another. He is accompanied by a girl on this job, guided by a superintendent. They go about this task as the hours slip by, and with each tick of the clock, the protagonist slips a bit further into a rabbit hole. From thinking of the dead bloated corpses as mere objects, he soon starts thinking of himself as one with them-
I stood there stupidly while a great weariness bloomed, mushroomed through my body. That was a living person. And the living, who were equipped with consciousness, wrapped them selves in thick, mucous membranes and rejected me. I had stepped into the world of the dead. And when I returned to the midst of the living, everything became difficult, I had just taken my first fall. Maybe I had become too deeply involved in this work and wouldn't be able to get out: it was an ominous feeling.
And then, we also get to peek into his thoughts as he gets an erection after seeing a thirteen year old female corpse's flower bud.
A stark contrast is offered to this scene of death and rot, with the girl being revealed as pregnant. She had decided on getting an abortion and thus had taken the job to afford it.
"What do you think would happen if I let things go as they are?" the girl said. "I'd be assuming a terrible responsibility, just by doing nothing for nine months. My feelings about my own life are uncertain enough as it is, yet I'd be giving birth to another new un certainty. It would be just as serious as murdering somebody. All I'd have to do is wait without doing anything and it would be just as serious as that."
The ironical humour of the matter comes to light later, as she decides to keep the child after hauling corpses all day long. This hope, is in turn squashed again by Kenzaburō when she slips and falls, deeming the life of her baby as uncertain.
Ōe writes about war as well, not unlike majority of Japanese authors, but uses an army deserter's corpse to introduce the conversation, with the protagonist answering the dead's unvoiced questions.
"Nobody can be as convincing as I am, no matter how clear his thoughts on war are. Because I soak here without moving, just the way I was when they killed me."
I saw the bullet wound in the soldier's side; it was shaped like a withered flower petal, darker than the skin around it, thickly discolored.
"Do you remember the war? You must have been just a child?"
"I was growing up", I said to myself-- "all during that long war. I grew up at a time when the only hope from day to unhappy day was that the war would end. And the air was so thick with signs that hope remained that I was suffocated and felt that I was dying. The war ended, the adults digested its corpse in minds like stomachs, the indigestible solids and the mucus were excreted- but I had nothing to do with all that. And before we even realised what had happened, our hopes had faded away like mist."
His theme, if one can speak of themes apart from specific books, is the dignity of man, or rather the indignity to which society exposes him. Most of Ōe's characters are young people like himself and most of them are in flight, seeking in sex and violence and the most insidious brands of self-deceit, as an escape from the humiliations of living in a depraved world.
The story ends in medias res, with the dead being hauled out of the tank and into a truck headed towards a crematorium. The old corpses were to be cremated, and replaced in turn with new corpses. Kenzaburō doesn't allow the reader to know what becomes of the protagonist or the girl as the outcome is unimportant, for Ōe is primarily concerned with what happens to a man when he is confronted with abnormality and in how he degrades himself in attempting to escape degradation.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 10, 2021
His story has the atmosphere of 20th century or traces of the war. There is blockage among human being.
March 15, 2023
Vivid writing. Sharp contrast. Absurdity & numbness.
R.I.P 🕯️🕯️🕯️
R.I.P 🕯️🕯️🕯️
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May 16, 2025Very 日本っぽい
April 16, 2025
“Do you remember the war? You must have been just a child?
I was growing up, I said to myself—all during that long war. I grew up at a time when the only hope from day to unhappy day was that the war would end. And the air was so thick with signs that hope remained that I was suffocated and felt that I was dying. The war ended, the adults digested its corpse in minds like stomachs, and the indigestible solids and the mucus were excreted—but I had nothing to do with all that. And before we even realised what had happened, our hopes had faded away like mist.”
I was growing up, I said to myself—all during that long war. I grew up at a time when the only hope from day to unhappy day was that the war would end. And the air was so thick with signs that hope remained that I was suffocated and felt that I was dying. The war ended, the adults digested its corpse in minds like stomachs, and the indigestible solids and the mucus were excreted—but I had nothing to do with all that. And before we even realised what had happened, our hopes had faded away like mist.”
August 23, 2009
These are the best of Oe's early works that I truly admire. "Shiiku" (En title: Prize Stock) was just so great; I felt nothing but so impressed. The vivid images on the story remains still on my head; it was shocking and thrilling, but Oe described the truth about human's conditions and the world pretty well.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews