Reflections in a Glass Door: Memory and Melancholy in the Personal Writings of Natsume Soseki

by Marvin Marcus

Much has been written about Natsume Soseki (1867–1916), one of Japan’s most celebrated writers. Known primarily for his novels, he also published a large and diverse body of short personal writings (shohin) that have long lived in the shadow of his fictional works. The essays, which appeared in the Asahi shinbun between 1907 and 1915, comprise a fascinating autobiographical mosaic, while capturing the spirit of the Meiji era and the birth of modern Japan.

In Reflections in a Glass Door, Marvin Marcus introduces readers to a rich sampling of Soseki’s shohin. The writer revisits his Tokyo childhood, recalling family, friends, and colleagues and musing wistfully on the transformation of his city and its old neighborhoods. He painfully recounts his two years in London, where he immersed himself in literary research even as he struggled with severe depression. A chronic stomach ailment causes Soseki to reflect on his own mortality and what he saw as the spiritual afflictions of modern rampant egocentrism and materialism. Throughout he adopts a number of narrative voices and the peevish husband, the harried novelist, the convalescent, the seeker of wisdom.

Marcus identifies memory and melancholy as key themes in Soseki’s personal writings and highlights their relevance in his fiction. He balances Soseki’s account of his Tokyo household with that of his wife, Natsume Kyoko, who left a straightforward record of life with her celebrated husband. Soseki crafted a moving and convincing voice in his shohin, which can now be pondered and enjoyed for their penetrating observation and honesty, as well as the fresh perspective they offer on one of Japan’s literary giants.

280 pages, Hardcover

First published September 1, 2009

Reviews

[feneo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Behind this glass door are the last memories of a naive, gentle man who was waiting for his death. At the end of his life, Natsume Sõseki suffered from a stomach ailment. It was such a terrible illness that for months he was unable to leave his room or even eat. When he could muster the energy, he would share a memory of his on newspapers. And this is the work that came into being at the end.
While he was waiting for death behind that glass door, his friends, his dog, his cats were leaving for the land of death one by one. Every time he looked at the graveyard he built for his cats and dog in the garden, he’d wonder when will his turn arrive.
While reading Soseki's memoirs, I realised that the people he talked about in his novels were always parts of his own life. In “I am a cat”, the cat's owner, whom he constantly criticised, was none other than Soseki himself. The man in “Heart”, who constantly thought about death, was also a part of his own inner world.
In some of the memoirs written by this clever 19th century gentleman who was able to capture the small, subtle beauties in life, I was generally heartbroken but I also managed to laugh a lot in some of them. It makes me very bittersweet to read such memoirs about the inner worlds of writers. Perhaps it makes me realize how utterly human we all are at the end of the day.
Really isn’t much going on, but I think witnessing a stream of consciousness is also a part of reading. Fits my cup of tea.

[Burchino · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hüzünlü ve insan olmaya dair derin sorgulamalarla dolu.. Bir yüzyıl öncesinden bugüne değişmeyen insan ve insanlık.