The Setting Sun by Osamu Dazai

CHAPTER SIX / OUTBREAK OF HOSTILITIES

Outbreak of hostilities.

I could not remain forever immersed in my grief. There is something for which I absolutely have tofight. A new ethics. No, even to use the word is hypocrisy. Love. That and nothing else. Just as RosaLuxemburg had to depend on her new economics for her survival, I cannot go on living unless now I clingwith all my force to love. The words of teaching spoken by Jesus to his twelve disciples, when he wasabout to send them forth to expose the hypocrisies of the scribes and Pharisees and the men of authority ofthis world and to proclaim to all men without the least hesitation the true love of God, are not entirelyinappropriate in my case as well.

Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses

Nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves:

Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves; be ye therefore wise as serpents, andharm-less as doves.

And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which isable to destroy both soul and body in hell.

Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.

For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, andthe daughter in law against her mother in law.

And a man's foes shall be they of his own household.

He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son ordaughter more than me is not worthy of me.

And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me.

He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.

Outbreak of hostilities. - - - - -

If because of love I were to swear to obey without fail these teachings of Jesus, to the very letter, Iwonder if He would condemn me. Why is physical love bad and spiritual love good? I don't understand. Ican't help feeling that they are the same. I would like to boast that I am she who could destroy her bodyand soul in Gehenna for the sake of a love, for the sake of a passion she could not understand, or for thesake of the sorrow they engendered.

My uncle arranged for the cremation in Izu and-th-e- o-b-servances in Tokyo. Naoji and I then began ourlife together, on terms so bad, that even when we met face to face we did not speak. Naoji sold all ofMother's jewelry, styling it "capital" for his publishing venture. When he had exhausted himself indrinking in Tokyo, he would come staggering back, his face deathly pale, like a patient in the last stages ofsome terrible disease.

One afternoon he turned up with a girl, who looked like a dancer. This made things even moreawkward than was usual, and I suggested, "Would it be all right if I went to Tokyo today? I'd like to visit afriend I haven't seen in years. I'll spend two or three nights with her. You won't mind looking after thehouse, will you? You can have the girl cook for you."

I did not hesitate a moment to take advantage of Naoji's weakness. Thus, quite naturally, displaying thewisdom of the serpent, I stuffed my bag with cosmetics and food and left for Tokyo to see my lover.

Naoji had once told me after a casual inquiry on my part that Mr. Uehara's new house was about twentyminutes' walk from the north exit of the Ogikubo Station on the Tokyo Suburban Line. A blustery autumnwind was blowing that day. It was already growing dark when I got off at Ogikubo Station. I stopped apasserby to ask where Mr. Uehara's house was, but even after being informed I wandered aimlessly forclose to an hour through the dark alleys. I felt so forlorn that the tears came. All of a sudden I tripped overa stone in the street, and the strap of my sandals snapped. As I stood there helplessly, wondering what todo, I noticed the name-plate on one of a row of houses to my right, a whitish blob in the dark. I intuitivelyfelt certain that the name Uehara would be written on it. I hobbled over to the entrance, one foot without asandal. I peered at the plate. Sure enough, it was inscribed "Uehara Jiro," but the interior of the house wasdark.