In postwar Japan, a writer meets a small-town innkeeper who is obsessed with a tale from the nineteenth century. He relates the saga of Enomoto Takeaki, an admiral in the final years of the Tokugawa shogunate who regained authority under the Meiji government. A former member of imperial Japan’s military police, the innkeeper dwells on the question of loyalty even as he struggles with his responsibility for the arrest and murder of his brother-in-law during the war. Later, he sends the writer a mysterious manuscript purporting to be the account of a peddler turned samurai whom Enomoto betrayed.
Part historical fiction, part detective story, The Traitor is a remarkable novel about navigating changing political landscapes by one of the most significant modern Japanese writers. In his only historical novel, Abe Kōbō turns to a pivotal moment in Japan’s past to explore profound questions about the nature of loyalty and the choices that people must make when they encounter forces beyond their control or understanding. Published in 1964, when a new generation had begun asking their parents about the war, Abe’s tale of betrayal sparked controversy across the political spectrum. The great writer’s most important previously untranslated novel, The Traitor displays Abe’s literary mastery from a new angle
Kōbō Abe (安部 公房 Abe Kōbō), pseudonym of Kimifusa Abe, was a Japanese writer, playwright, photographer, and inventor.
He was the son of a doctor and studied medicine at Tokyo University. He never practised however, giving it up to join a literary group that aimed to apply surrealist techniques to Marxist ideology.
Abe has been often compared to Franz Kafka and Alberto Moravia for his surreal, often nightmarish explorations of individuals in contemporary society and his modernist sensibilities.
He was first published as a poet in 1947 with Mumei shishu ("Poems of an unknown poet") and as a novelist the following year with Owarishi michi no shirube ni ("The Road Sign at the End of the Street"), which established his reputation. Though he did much work as an avant-garde novelist and playwright, it was not until the publication of The Woman in the Dunes in 1962 that he won widespread international acclaim.
In the 1960s, he collaborated with Japanese director Hiroshi Teshigahara in the film adaptations of The Pitfall, Woman in the Dunes, The Face of Another and The Ruined Map. In 1973, he founded an acting studio in Tokyo, where he trained performers and directed plays. He was elected a Foreign Honorary Member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences in 1977.
"But in the end a story is simply a story. We can play around with it all we want: Nothing is going to change fiction into fact. No matter how logically we arrange all the tiny details, the moment we question the initial premise-the second we cast doubt on the 'Once upon a time'-everything falls apart... Anyway, I've always thought that a story is more enjoyable when some parts of it don't quite make sense.” . I’ve sat for the last hour or so thinking about how best to compose what I think about this book. From one page to another my sense of the book wildly differed, and if you had asked me as I was about halfway I probably would have told you I was considering giving it up. Had you asked me at the beginning I felt it was an absolute stellar of a book. Finishing it, my feeling towards it changed to a more positive outlook. . In many ways this book is a reflection of the stormy political and cultural world of 1960’s Japan, overlaid on a similarly stormy period of the end of the Bakufu and the start of the Meiji era. It is a book within a book, a layered conversation on how political communities often manufacture traitors in order to preserve ideological purity, perhaps a commentary on Abe’s own change from revolutionary politics into surrealism. . We see two men, Fukuchi, a former Kempeitai officer (think the Gestapo), and Enomoto, a sort of polymath Tokugawa naval officer, both come to terms with existentialist themes of alienation and individual responsibility. All this is presented in complex, shifting, and, I’ll be honest, rather confusing passages. Much of the middle portion focuses on the dying remains of the Tokugawa, battles, discussions, and a plethora of names that adds even more confusion. . This is a difficult book and, as an act of reading, it doesn’t quite come together. Without a knowledge of Japanese history, in particular the period at the end of the Tokugawa and the start of the Meiji era, I think most average non-Japanese readers will greatly struggle with this. It is confusing, and the middle portion is really heavy going. The ending does redeem it somewhat, but you have to get through dialogue and passages laid heavily with deeper and broader themes. . With thanks to Columbia University Press and netgalley for the advanced copy.
Kōbō Abe’s The Traitor is one of those books that’s clearly very smart and ambitious, but not always easy to get through. It explores big ideas about loyalty, identity, and what it really means to be called a “traitor,” especially in times when society is changing fast.
I really appreciated how the novel looks at a shifting society and questions who gets to define betrayal. The idea that someone can be seen as loyal in one moment and a traitor in the next—depending on who’s in power—is genuinely interesting and gives the book a lot of depth. That part definitely kept me engaged.
At the same time, I did struggle with it in places. The structure can be quite fragmented, and it’s not always easy to follow what’s going on or how everything connects. The middle section especially felt like a bit of a slog—it really is a matter of pushing through at times. There were moments where it just dragged, and honestly, war is incredibly boring.
Still, I’m glad I read it. It’s not a light or entertaining read, but it does leave you with something to think about. If you’re interested in more philosophical or experimental literature, it’s worth the effort—but be prepared to work for it.
Thank you NetGalley and Columbia University Press for the ARC!
Kōbō Abe's 1964 novel The Traitor has been translated by Mark Gibeau and appears in English for the first time. As an Abe fan, this is a truly great scoring event, and a memorable one too. This is Abe's only historical novel - but to call it that does it a slice disservice, for this is not straight history, but instead a narrative framed within a narrative, shaped by opinion.
The principal story takes place during the Meiji government and explores a pivotal moment in the country's history. Abe crafts a tale that works on multiple levels, and though I am sure some allusions went over my head - Gibeau in his afterword does offer some explanation - I was absolutely booked by this novel. Abe has a magic way of bringing his characters to life on the page, and quicky engaging his reader. I was also interested to learn this was adapted into a play by Abe also - something I hope to read one day.
The Traitor then is superbly translated, a cracking historical novel - with undertones of a detective story - that brings to life Meiji Japan and is another reminder of how great a novelist Abe was.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publishers for the ARC.
I am very pleased that I decided to request this arc! This is Kōbō Abe’s only historical novel and its very first English translation. The Traitor is not a historical novel in a traditional sense; the author is looking at the past with a very critical eye, writing in the 1960’s, when post-WWII Japan was yet again trying to come to terms with its WWII past.
This is a framed narrative – there is a mysterious manuscript found by a man who did terrible things during WWII. He hopes the events of the 1860’s will somehow justify him. The events in question being the chaos of the fall of the Tokugawa shogunate and the beginning of Meiji era. (I highly recommend at least a quick perusal of a few Wikipedia articles before starting the book. I am glad I thought of doing just that.)
We are looking at the actions of Enomoto Takeaki – samurai and admiral of the Tokugawa, a rebel fighting against the Meiji government, a president and founder of the Republic of Ezo, a prisoner… and then an influential member of the Meiji government. What a biography, indeed.
The book a mixture of mystery, memoir, a list of historical events, philosophical and moral musings, newspaper clippings, possibly unreliable narrators and dialogues that cut deep if you read them closely. All the historical details are very interesting. Kōbō Abe makes the reader work for it – everything is slow and intricate, you need to focus and have your wits about you. I did want to go back to the book when I wasn’t reading! The people and the setting were very clear to me and I had to remember to breathe when following Enomoto Takeaki.
What is betrayal, what does it mean to be betrayed? What is loyalty? Should loyalty exist? Does bravery have any value? Are you allowed to change your beliefs? How do we settle scores after wars end? This is not the kind of book that will give you clear answers. The readers are free to think and decide for themselves.
Mark Gibeau’s translation is beautiful and immaculate. I am very impressed.
Quotes:
”It doesn’t matter which age you’re talking about, the only acceptable beliefs are the beliefs of the current age.”
”They were men who refused to feel remorse or regret simply because old beliefs ceased to hold sway. They were true samurai, don’t you think?”
”Tell me, Sensei, does the changing of the times make one’s loyalty worth less than than a handful of copper coins?”
”No, it seems we were too late. Too late in becoming samurai.”
”Any honor that forces you to puzzle over whether you should stand by this or by that is no true honor at all.”
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the free e-book!
Kobo Abe is one the foremost chroniclers of a post-war Japan that, as in Germany, saw reflection on national actions during WW2 sit uneasily with a post-war economic miracle and transition to a liberal democracy. Unlike other Abe novels like Boxman and Woman In The Dunes, The Traitor looks at post-war Japanese society through the lens of history, specifically the Boshin War of the mid-nineteenth century, in which traditional clans, some supporting the Shogun, some the Emperor, fought a brief civil war over the future direction of the country.
Abe’s narrator opens the novel in a series of meetings with Fukuchi, an innkeeper in post-war Japan, who reveals he was a kempetai, a military policemen, who during WW2 condemned his brother–in–law to arrest and execution. Fukuchi is obsessed with one of the central figures of the Boshin War, the naval commander Enomoto, whose fate seems to have parallels to his own.
The bulk of the novel is an account of the actions of Enomoto written by a follower of another senior military figure, Hijikata. The writer of this account blames Enomoto’s actions for the defeat of the shogun’s forces, and constructs an elaborate plot to bring Enomoto to justice for his betrayal of the forces he was leading.
This is a complex and many-layered novel, and for the Western reader another layer is added through the cast of real historical characters that populate the account that the innkeeper has transcribed. Unfamiliar to anyone without a detailed knowledge of Japanese military and political history, these require a steep learning curve to stay with.
It’s worth the close reading required. Abe draws his themes - of what betrayal and loyalty mean, together brilliantly at the end. Like the work of WG Sebald - another exorciser of post-war guilt - it occupies an uncanny space between fact and faction, presenting newspaper articles and commentary alongside the narrative.
This is not for everyone, and the first third can at times be bewildering, but Abe touches on some uncomfortable and profound questions about our beliefs and how we justify them.
This historical novel was first published in Japan in 1964 but has only now been translated into English. And it’s not an easy read – unless you are very well versed in Japanese history. The introduction and afterword are not just useful here but pretty much essential for a western readership. No doubt the events portrayed will be much more familiar to a Japanese readership. So I recommend any reader to read up on the background. In post-war Japan a writer meets a small-town innkeeper who is obsessed with the 19th century real-life military leader Enemoto Takeaki, who served both the Tokugawa Shogunate and the new Meiji government. The innkeeper sends a document to the writer containing details of the tumultuous events. The frame narrative doesn’t help in keeping track of what’s going on, but a careful reading is rewarded. However, I found the story somewhat boring, not least because of the descriptions of military engagements, in which I had no interest. For me the novel was partially redeemed by its exploration of betrayal and loyalty, something the inn-keeper himself is struggling with, as he himself betrayed a family member during the war. But this psychological aspect of the narrative wasn’t enough to engage me throughout and I found myself skipping some passages. Nevertheless, Abe is an important writer and this is an important book, so I was glad to have discovered it even if I didn’t particularly enjoy it.
The Traitor was an interesting book in someways but a difficult read in others. The difficulty stems from the amount of assumed knowledge both about the end of the Tokugawa shogunate and life in Japan during the second world war. I went into this book knowing a little about the former (thanks to previous reading and viewing set in that period) but next to nothing about the latter. While I could still understand the parallels being drawn, not having all that background information made the experience of reading this book different than if I'd had such knowledge, as the translator also acknowledged in his afterword. The style of the narrative was interesting and overall the story was engaging. It was a work that questioned ideas of loyalty and ideology. However, I do not think it will be for everyone, and some readers may struggle with a lack of understanding of the periods in which it is set. I am giving it four stars. It is certainly a worthwhile read, but bear in mind that some background historical knowledge will aid you in appreciating it.
I received this book as a free eBook ARC via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.
I admit that despite being an avid historical fiction and history non-fiction reader, I struggled with this novel!
I enjoyed the premise and the concept of the story- we got to meet important figures of Japanese history and receive a more personal account of important events. However, I was lucky that I even knew some history/figures- without previous knowledge, I think I would have been completely lost!
The narrative was unfortunately confusing, with odd changes of perspectives/writers and points of views. This just sadly added to my confusion of the story. Whilst the events of history were fairly clear, the innkeeper’s story is sadly completely lost in the novel and I’m still struggling to understand what happened. Sadly, I found it too taxing to enjoy, despite my love of Japanese history.
I think it shows promise, but a timeline, a list of key figures and what they did would have helped so much more!
Sadly I got way too bogged down in trying to understand the novel, and DNFed it
Absolutely fantastic historical fiction novel about Enomoto Takeaki and the Republic of Ezo. The plotting here was absolutely superb, the characters were great, and the perspective was well-done. 5 stars. Thanks to Columbia University Press and Netgalley for the E-ARC.