In a minor twist, I've done the opposite of my usual: commonly, I would read No Longer Human to make myself feel shittier on purpose - today I was already feeling lugubrious (for no particular reason, as it goes) and so decided to continue reading Furuya's manga adaptation. I think some days ago I'd planned on finishing the manga at work soon-ish, and so probably I didn't have any other particular reason to read today, but I realized a moment ago that I might have developed a reason earlier this morning, unaware, and anyway that's not even remotely important, so I'll be vague enough that I won't remember what it was next time I read this.
This volume basically constitutes "The Third Notebook, Part One" from Dazai's original novel. We seem to have completely skipped over "The First Notebook" but for the brief flashbacks in the first volume of this manga.
I don't like how Furuya altered the circumstances around Yozo's leaving Shizuko and her daughter (whose name I just forgot, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't "Shigeko"). In Dazai, I like that Yozo steps out briefly and makes an attempt to head back to Shizuko's house, where he overhears mother and daughter playing with a rabbit they just bought, which they hope will please Yozo (whom Shigeko refers to as "Daddy"). In this version, Yozo fucks off and Shizuko and her kid go out looking for him. I'd say this twists the story a bit too much. Shizuko is already mistrusting of Yozo, more so than in the novel, or at least more than Donald Keene's translation. It seems too fast for Shizuko to seek Yozo out. In the novel, she was purer of mind, I think. She didn't expect him to actually leave. This is the value of the rabbit scene, that mother and daughter are blind to the truth of Yozo's character, that they know he's walked out but they still believe he'll return soon. But I guess good for Furuya for further establishing his own spin on the story.
I'm also a bit concerned with the way Furuya's been using Time. Yozo I think was already meant to be a university student when he first attempted suicide. He was kept too young in Volume 1. He's like 20 when he proposes to Yoshino. I read ahead briefly (I forgot Yoshino's name) and it seems he's 22 in the beginning of Volume 3, but he's meant to be 27 by the novel's end, and there's not much left to break Yozo down. Actually, Furuya's already set Yozo's third photograph at age 25, so I guess it works out, but I don't really see the point to moving Yozo's timeline around so much. Unless Furuya just really hated "The First Notebook" and yet could not justify setting the bulk of the story already deep into Yozo's older student years. Or something.
Furuya also makes Yozo dwell more on the attempted double-suicide, which I recall not affecting him too deeply by the beginning of "The Third Notebook." This, plus earlier references to Yozo's father, seems to be a means of fleshing out Yozo's character a bit more, ironing out wrinkles Furuya may perceive in the story, but it all seems extraneous... at least for someone like me who's read the novel too many times to the point of being confused at these minute changes.
I enjoy how Yozo's egoism makes him take advantage of people's kindness/ignorance to further keep himself afloat while still spiraling ever downward. This is not unique to Furuya's vision, rather I just don't feel like adding more to my Dazai review than I've already done (and even that was too much). People see Yozo as being kind. He disagrees. He expresses internal confusion at how they could be so wrong. He allows these mistakes to stand, so that he might gain from them. These elements work to set up what I consider the punchline of the novel, Yozo's being an "angel" (I'm curious to see how Furuya retains this element, as he already has his self-insert stumble upon Yozo's story rather than being handed to him by the madam of the club).
This has nothing to do with anything, but it came to my attention, for the first time in months, something I often forget, that at work when I have to walk around the floors of the office I find myself naturally slipping my left hand into my pocket, loosely gripping my keys, a finger or two brushing against a Wint-o-Green Lifesaver, and I continue moving as if incapable of removing hand from pocket. I like to think sometimes that this is a minor gesture of individuality, in the sense of a rejection of the masses, or something. Like, I'm keeping my off-hand in my pocket to look "bored" on purpose, or to emphasize further my (waning) youth, not unlike spending far too much time between haircuts or how I always wear cheap-ish polo shirts, some of which are intentionally a size too big, rather than looking more respectable in long-sleeve slim-fit button-downs (which, in fairness, I meant to buy over a year ago, keeping my polos only in the interim, but it didn't take long for me to fall out of interest in my job, to see it as little more than a source of meager income, and so I allow this mock-disdain to leak out ever-so-slightly, as otherwise I fear I might totally forget I have a job).
I hardly notice it, but I think Yozo has infected my soul in a financial sort of way. I spend money freely, as if in a race to zero out. Yesterday, in the two hours between waking up (2:30pm) and getting out of bed (it would have been 4, but I fell back asleep) I considered the possibility of building a bonfire, and tossing into it all my books and things. This has less to do with No Longer Human than, say, the Hermann Hesse books I've been re-reading recently, but I felt I may as well put it here than elsewhere.