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NO L O N G E R HUMAN
ALSO BY OSAMU DA2AI
BY OS AMU DAZAI
TRANSLATED BY D O N A L D KEENE
TWELFTH PRINTING
This translation is dedicated with affection
to Nancy and Edmundo Lassalle
TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION
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Donald Keene
PROLOGUE
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"Go ahead."
"No, I'm not qualified. I'm afraid I'll have to give
up the idea of marrying you. Look at my face. Red,
isn't it? I've been drinking."
"II'H just the sunset shining on it. Don't try to
fool me. Y o u promised yesterday you wouldn't drink.
You wouldn't break a promise, would you? We
hooked fingers. Don't tell m e you've been drinking.
It's a lie—I know it is."
Yoshiko's pale face was smiling as she sat there
inside the dimly lit shop. What a holy thing uncor-
rupted virginity is, I thought. I had never slept with
a virgin, a girl younger than myself. I'd marry her. I
wanted once in my lifetime to know that great savage
joy, no matter how immense the suffering that might
ensue. I h a d always imagined that the beauty of vir-
ginity was nothing more than the sweet, sentimental
illusion of stupid poets, but it really is alive and
present in this world. We would get married. In the
spring we'd go together on bicycles to see waterfalls
framed in green leaves.
I made up m y mind on the spot: it was a then-
and-there decision, and I did not hesitate to steal the
flower.
Not long afterwards we were married. The joy
I obtained as a result of this action was not necessarily
great or savage, but the suffering which ensued was
133
stead I would rush out into the filthy little bars that
looked like souvenir stands, a n d drink gin until I
fairly swam i n it. I returned to Tokyo only sicklier for
the trip.
The night I returned to Tokyo the snow was
falling heavily. I drunkenly wandered along the rows
of saloons behind the Ginza, singing to myself over
and over again, so softly it was only a whisper, "From
here it's hundreds of miles to home . . . From here it's
hundreds of miles to home." I walked along kicking
with the point of my shoes the snow which was ac-
cumulating. Suddenly I vomited. This was the first
time I had brought up blood. It formed a big rising-
sun flag in the snow. I squatted there for a while.
Then with both hands I scooped up snow from places
which wore still clean, and washed my face. I wept.
"Where does this little path go?
Where does this little path g o ? "
1 could hear indistinctly from the distance, like
an auditory hallucination, the voice of a little girl
singing. Unhappincss. There arc all kinds of unhappy
people in this world. I suppose it would be no exag-
geration to say that the world is composed entirely
of unhappy people. But those people can fight their
unhappiiicsB with society fairly and squarely, and
society for its part easily understands and sympathizes
with such struggles. My unhappincss stemmed entirely
158
She blushed.
I pursued the theme. "I can't do any work unless
1 have t h e medicine. It's a kind of energy-builder
for me."
"How about hormone injections?"
"Don't be silly. It's liquor or that medicine, one
or the other. If I haven't got it I can't work."
"You mustn't drink."
"That's right. I haven't touched a drop of liquor
since I began with that medicine. I'm in fine physical
shape, thanks to you. I don't intend to go on drawing
stupid cartoons forever, y o u know. N o w that I've
stopped drinking and have straightened myself out,
I'm going to study. I'm sure I can become a great
painter. I'll show you. If only I can get over this crit-
ical period. So, please. How about a kiss?"
She burst out laughing. "What a nuisance you
are. You may already have become an addict, for all
I know." Her crutches clacked as she hobbled over
to the shelf to take down some medicine. "I can't
give you a whole box. You'd use it all up. Here's
half."
"How stingy you've become! Well, if that's the
best you can do."
I gave myself a shot as soon as I got back home.
Yoshiko timidly asked, "Doesn't it hurt?"
"Of course it hurts. But I've got to do it, no
163
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