NAKAJIMA Atsushi (1909-1942) is a Japanese novelist, who was gifted to the rewriting of old tales of the Orient. We know other writers who are known to have attempted the same kind, Ryunosuke Akutagawa (1892-1927) and Osamu Dazai (1909-1948), for example. But differently Akutagawa of moralist and satirist Dazai, modernizing Nakajima tends to suggest new intellectual Borges and Michel Tournier. I think it could have been a Japanese Borges had he not died so early (asthma). I do not know if I'm the only imagine. He's a writer that the Japanese are learning at school, but curiously unknown abroad. Still less known qu'Akutagawa Dazai and even in Japan, I am nevertheless confident that Nakajima was the best of its kind. My translation does not reflect the elegance of his style (very tongue-in for this new laughter).
The Story of a virtuoso is a fable whose moral is very difficult to find. I do not know yet. The textbook prefers other works easier to understand, but I think it is the best.
As the news is based on Chinese history, I transcribed the names of places and characters in the Chinese way.
Story of a virtuoso (news NAKAJIMA Atsushi) (1942) A man named
Jichang residing in Handan, capital of Zhao, took the decision to become the best archer in the world. After looking for someone who was worthy of his master, he could not imagine that there would be another man who emulate the champion Feiwei for archery now. They said it was a virtuoso who never failed to pierce a sheet of weeping willow at the distance of a hundred paces. Jichang made a long journey to make visiting him and knocked at his door.
Feiwei ordered his new disciple to learn first not to blink. Jichang went home, went under the loom of his wife, and lay on his back. His idea was to stare without blinking beats fast feet on the pedals, flush from his eyes. His wife was very surprised, not knowing reason. She told him he was already embarrassing his ridiculous attitude was regarded by her husband's strange angle. He scolded his wife, who balked and forced her to continue weaving. Day after day, he multiplied the exercise not to blink in this position laughable. It's in two years he never beat her eyelids, while the pedals that moved constantly brushed lashes. He finally emerged from under the craft. He was already so much so that he blinked more even if a sharp point punch would sting his eyes. If sparks flew into his eyes suddenly, or a column of ash appeared Suddenly before him, he never blinked. Her eyelids had completely forgotten the use of their muscles to close, and his eyes were very wide open even when he was in deep sleep. Finally, when a small spider wove a web between his eyelashes, he finally had confidence, and announced the news to his master Feiwei.
After the hearing, it said: "It is not enough to teach shooting, just because you do not blink your eyes more. Soon learn to watch. When the way you look is ripe, by which you see as the small great, and you see the tiny like the huge, you can come back to me to announce it. "
Jichang returned home again, found a louse of a stitch in his jersey, and bound her hair. So he hanged to the window facing south, and he decided to spend time looking all day. He looked at the power hung in the window every day. At first it was a power course. He remained a power in two or three days. But after ten days, it seemed that his eyes beheld dimly just a little bit bigger, it is unclear whether it was because of his imagination. At the end of the third month lice was the size of a silkworm undoubtedly in his eyes. The landscape behind the window with the beast hanging changed as and when. The day of spring shone gently turned into fierce summer sun without being noticed. Just as the wild geese had crossed the top of the transparent autumn sky, already melted snow fell from the ceiling gray and chilling. Jichang continued to look with patience the little insect, phtiraptera, pruritic, hanging at the end of the hair. Already three years flowed as the power was replaced dozens of times. One day he suddenly noticed that his eyes saw the creature to size of a horse. The word "this is it! "Escaped his lips, and he left the house. He could not believe his eyes. The man was a tall tower. The horse was a mountain. The pig looked like a hill, the rooster and a castle. Jichang, elated, went home, remade the face of the window to power, notch an arrow of sagebrush north of the arc horn and pulled Yan; the arrow pierced the heart of many precisely louse and which bound the hair was not even cut.
Jichang went to his master to tell him the news. Feiwei his feet and beat his chest, and complimented him for the first time, saying "Bravo! . And he began immediately to learn all the intricacies of Jichang archery.
advantage of five years spent on the Exercise of eyes basic technique Jichang made astonishingly rapid progress.
On the tenth day after the start of transmission of secrets, Jichang tried to pull the leaves of willow at a distance of hundred yards, and he never failed to pierce into one. In the twentieth day he took a mighty bow, a full cup of water on his right elbow. Not only was there no deviation to the target, but the water in the cup did not move. After a month of training, he tried a quick shot with a hundred arrows. The first reached the goal, and the second which followed it plunged into the barrel of the first seamless, and then the tip of the third soon penetrated firmly into the shaft of the second. Arrow to arrow, shot for shot, such as iron sank the following still in the barrel of the previous arrows do not fell to the ground. In a moment, a hundred arrows s'enchaînèrent as a single arrow, and it seemed that that was the last continuata purpose of a straight line even touched the rope. Even Feiwei, the teacher who looked next to him says "Perfect! "In spite of himself.
Two months after the start Jichang, having quarreled with his wife, tried to threaten, notch an arrow Wuhao arc and Wei Qi, handed the rope and pulled over his eyes. The arrow cut off three lashes and flew to the devil, but the woman referred noticed nothing and continued to swear against him without blinking. Perhaps the arrow speed and accuracy of sight by his sublime art they reached this level.
With nothing to learn from his master, had suddenly Jichang bad thoughts a day.
He thought himself then to arrive at this conclusion: "Now there is more than my master Feiwei who could be my opponent for archery. That I may be the first virtuoso of the world, we must eliminate at all costs. While he sought an opportunity unwittingly, he found himself approaching Feiwei walk from far across the field by one day. As soon as Jichang determined on the spot, visa entering an arrow Feiwei, sensing the danger, not less quickly answered with his bow. Both drew upon one another, and arrows clashed whenever halfway, and fell to the ground. This is probably because their arts were one and the other register divine traits that fell did not lead to any dust. However, when Feiwei arrows were exhausted, there remained one last Jichang. As soon as he pulled with the triumphant spirit, the other cut the branch of a wild rose next door, and shot the very tip with the tip of the spine. A moral remorse, which would never have happened had he succeeded at that time suddenly rises in the heart of Jichang, who understood that his desperate hope might be realized not last. As for Feiwei, relief to have got out of danger and self-love for his own art made completely forget the hatred of his enemy. They ran to each other, embraced in the field, and the tears of love beautiful master-disciple does not exhausted for a while. (It is irrelevant to consider this matter with the mores of today. When the Lord Huangong Qi, known for its gastronomy, asked to taste a rarity that he had never eaten, its chef served him Yiya his own son steamed. Male to sixteen years, the first Emperor of Qin, mishandled the favorite of his father three times in the night of death thereof. All these stories date from this period.)
Even hugging each other in tears, Feiwei who believed that this disciple was very likely to resume this plot, thought that there was no better than to divert his mind by giving it a new purpose. He told the student dangerous. "I have forwarded everything I could teach you. If you want more sublime mysteries of this art is going to climb the steep road west of Taihang to the summit of Mount Huoshan. There must be the master Ganying, the genius of this art, all exceptional in this world. In comparison with the art of this master, our fire resemble child's play. I believe there is more than the master Ganying now, you should go as your master. "
Jichang went immediately to the west. The words of his master who told them that their games were no better than those of children for that person put his pride in race. If that were true, his desire to be the best in the world is still far from being achieved. In the haste to meet him as soon as possible to play against him and see if his shot looked like a children's game, he threw himself on the road. He tore the soles of the feet, scratched legs, climbed the dangerous rock, crossed the road boards, and finally arrived for the summit in a month. Whoever receives
Jichang excited eyes were as soft as lamb, but he was a senile old man while. His age should not exceed one hundred years. He dragged his white beard, walking on earth, especially as his back bent.
Jichang announced the reason for his arrival rushed out loud, for fear that he was deaf. Once he was asked what he would think the level of his art, pressed, he waited more than his answer, he suddenly detached arc powerful willow surrounded by hemp and took her back to her hand. And then, he notched an arrow Shijie, visa and the flight of migratory birds passing up into the sky about. Reacting to the rope, five large birds fell by cutting the blue sky immediately after one shot.
The old man said, "It appears that you have the basic" drawing a smile. "But this is a shot of fire at the bottom, I do not think that you know already shooting non-shooting, my child. "Previous
Jichang annoyed, the old hermit brought him on the steep cliff that was about two hundred yards away. Beneath their feet was literally a chasm inaccessible, which was of such height that would feel dizzy if you ventured to cast one eye on the river could be seen as a thread much lower. The old man ran easily on the fragile rock that protrude into the air near the cliff, and told Jichang turning. "What do you say? Do you have the kindness to show me what you did earlier on this rock? "Jichang could no longer retreat. When he put his foot on the rock by relaying the old man, stone trembled slightly at once. When he was punching the arrow with all his courage, a stone fell from the end of the cliff at the same time. When he followed his trail with his eyes, he crouched on the rock against his will. His legs were trembling, and sweat flowing to the ankles. The old man held out his hand, laughing and sent down the rock on which he ascended in his turn, and said, "Well, I'll show you what it's like shooting. "Although the heart beat and it would still pale, Jichang noticed right away:" But what do you do with the bow? Where is your bow? The old man had nothing in his hands. "You say the arc? Until you need the bow, Shooting is shooting. As for the firing of non-firing, one does not need to bow to the varnish or black arrow Sushen. "
Just above them, a kite drew a circle to the place extremely high in the sky. Ganying who looked up the image as small as a grain of sesame, soon notched an arrow to his bow invisible formless, pulled the rope as the full moon and let go. Look, the kite falls on the rock from heaven, even without flapping its wings.
Jichang froze. He felt as if he had glimpsed for the first time the depths of this art. He remained in this
old teacher for nine years. Nobody knows what kind of exercises he was engaged during this time. When
Jichang down from the mountain after these nine years, people were astonished that her face was transformed. Mine brave and proud had gone on the road, but he had now face as a puppet, even an idiot without any expression. And yet, when he went to visit his old master Feiwei after a long absence, he exclaimed at the sight of this figure. "That's the mark of the first virtuoso of the world. Shooters like we never get to his ankles. "The city of
Handang, welcoming Jichang back, now the virtuoso world, burned waiting for the meeting of its sublime art which was soon to afford them. But
Jichang would not respond at all to this solicitation. It was not all, he would never even take the bow in his hand. It seemed that he had even thrown somewhere arc surrounded by willow hemp he had won when he had gone into the mountains. Jichang languishing replied to someone who asked him the reason: "The Supreme left to do, say it leaves the ultimate say, the shot leaves the Supreme shooting. "Indeed," citizens Handang, very understanding, approved at once his views. The master of archery who never drew became their pride. Longer Jichang no longer on his bow, and his reputation of an invincible man was highly prevalent.
Various rumors were passed by word of mouth. Every night, after midnight, we hear the rustle of the rope on the roof, no one knows whom. They say the spirit of the way of archery comes out during sleep the body of the hero who hosts it, and it monitors the city to defend it against the demons. A trader who lives near his home starts state have been seen on the cloud Jichang, who had his bow in his hand for a time, two former rival virtuosos Yi and Yang Youji. And each arrow that three teachers have drawn disappeared between Orion and the Dog Star dragging tail bluish light in the night sky. A robber has confessed. He wanted to creep into the house Jichang, but a gust of wind came out of the deadly silent house as soon as he put his foot on the wall and struck his forehead, he fell out despite himself. Now, people of bad faith made the trip, do not bring about a kilometer from his house, and migratory birds not spent more intelligent above his house. The virtuoso
Jichang ages at As at mid-wave reputation. It seemed that his heart had already left the fire long ago, penetrated deeper into the world quiet and empty. Face like a puppet even lost expressions, it was rare for him to speak, and they doubted the existence of his last breath. The old virtuoso told towards the end of his life: "I do not know the difference between him and me, between Yes and No. It seems to me that the eyes are ears, nose ears, nose and mouth is. "
Forty years after leaving Master Ganying, Jichang disappeared noiselessly, really like smoke. He never talked about the shooting during these forty years. Since he never mentioned it, there could be activities with bow and arrow. It is natural that, as a fabulist, I'd like to see the old virtuoso prowess to properly finish the story, and reveal why this was indeed the genuine virtuoso, but on the other hand, I can Nor never distort the facts recorded in the archive. In reality, it only tells that Jichang old was well in idleness, except for a single story strange as follows. It
seems that this story tells the events that happened one or two years before his death. Old Jichang replied to the invitation of an acquaintance one day and saw a tool in the house. It was indeed an instrument he had ever seen, but he could not remember the name or job, whatever he did. The old man asked the host. "What is the name of this thing, and for what purpose do we use? The host simply believed that the guest joked, and smiled a malicious way. Old Jichang questioned again face serious. But the other had an ambiguous smile, and he seemed puzzled that the guest had in his head. When Jichang repeated the same question for the third time to lead serious shade of surprise appeared on the face of the host for the first time. He scanned the eyes of the guest. He realized he was not joking, he was delirious, nor that he had not misheard, he showed a fright near a fright, and cried, stammering.
"Ah! My master! You are the incomparable virtuoso of all time, have you forgotten the bow? Ah! Even his name and his job! "For a long time
after this episode, we say that hid the brush painters, musicians cut the string instruments, and that architects were ashamed to touch the rules in the city of Handang.
Translated from Japanese by Hisashi FUKUI. I'm sorry for the translation early as usual (I finished in two days) and the absence of notes. :-(
