Yumiko Kurahashi’s 1968 novella Scorpions takes the form of a transcript of a one-sided interview with L following the arrest and institutionalization of her twin brother K. The two have played a role in a series of horrifying deaths culminating in the murder of their mother. Through a first-person narrative that varies in tone from scientifically clinical to darkly humorous, mingling together references to the Bible and Greek mythology, odd bits of dialogue, and obtuse descriptions, we learn of K and L’s shocking crimes, the gruesome plight of their religion-obsessed mother, and the professional and personal entanglement of L and an older man they call the RED PIG, their mother’s former lover.
Scorpions remains, after more than half a century, a shockingly transgressive text, as well as an encapsulation of the work of an influential but woefully under-translated author. It bears allegiance to the most radical French fiction of its time, particularly the work of Jean Genet, an author Kurahashi admired, whose own novels explored the sanctification of criminal behavior.
Yumiko Kurahashi (倉橋 由美子 Kurahashi Yumiko, October 10, 1935 – June 10, 2005) was a Japanese writer. Her married name was Yumiko Kumagai (熊谷 由美子 Kumagai Yumiko), but she wrote under her birth name.
Her work was experimental and antirealist, questioning prevailing societal norms regarding sexual relations, violence, and social order. Her antinovels employed pastiche, parody, and other elements typical of postmodernist writing. (Source: Wikipedia)
During the 1960s, demonstrations and riots were rife across Japan’s colleges and universities, conditions worsened by violent police interactions with the nation’s youth. As was common at the time around the world, young adults wanted fresh change to replace the post-War pallor cast over the world, change that would challenge staid bourgeois values. Yumiko Kurahashi was a Japanese writer who began publishing during this time. As many other works by young writers in the 60s, Kurahashi explored (and broke) taboos of bourgeoise society but, as a woman breaking these taboos, Kurahashi was seen as even more radical for creating protagonists given to incest and gratuitous violence. Leftist progressivism isn’t part of Kurahashi’s anti-bourgeois politics.
In Scorpions, identities are reduced to initials or derisory nicknames. Thus, the protagonist twins L (female) and K (male), children of M (deceased) and MADAME / OLD BAG, their mother. Whether this is a nod to Kafka, a duplication of the anonymity of subjects in technical reports, a comment the alienating conditions of contemporary life, or some mix of these possibilities, remains ambiguous.
L and K are the subjects of a report, a police investigation into the murder of their mother, Scorpions serving as L’s confession. L’s confession begins with her assessing as absurd the intent of the police’s psychological profiling of her—its interest in in reducing her to a category, determined in advanced by smug progressive intellectuals of a scientific bent—the Japanese tech bros of her day—who mean to institutionalize her for her own good: "Tell us all about what happened over the summer, you say. Okay, for the sake of your psychological evaluation for the court, I will. Since you’re planning labeling me schizophrenic and getting me released to a hospital—isn’t that right? Or is your aim to identify within me a uniquely modern anguish, pluck it out with tweezers, and display it to the world with an accusatory smirk? You are the perfect image of a humanist, you know, with your slick-backed hair and those glasses."
In addition to their mother— a convert to Christianity who may be insane—are RED PIG, a former associate of L and K’s father, his son Q, and Yukari, a young college girl and the only character to always be addressed by her full name. L and K live with their mother, Yukari rents a room in their house. In addition to L and K’s infatuation with each other, L is seduced by both the RED PIG and his son Q and K seduces Yukari.
Independently wealthy people with little regard for life—such as L and K—start playing with others as they might toys, when bored. The intended outcomes—seen as a rejection of the bourgeoise values the other characters represent—will not be in the name of bettering humanity.