Don’t be scared, Ryūnosuke …
In the house, its other rooms. You are afraid, even more afraid. Afraid of the doors, afraid of the floors. That open, that tilt. The dust from the ceiling, the dust on the floor. Afraid of the tatami, afraid of the lamps. The old tatami, the dim lamps. The family altar, its mortuary tablets with their blackened gold leaf. The family shrine, its two earthenware tanuki sat on red cushions. They sit in a dark storage room, a candle lit before them. Every night, every day. You are afraid, you are afraid. Afraid of the screens, their peeling paper. Afraid of the windows, their looming shadows. The shadows and the whispers, the whispers outside and in –
Don’t be scared …
But in one room, in just one room. Upon the walls, above the door. There are prints and there are scrolls. From another time, a better time. And in the alcoves, and on the floor. There are books, so many books. From a different world, a better world. And in that room, in just this room. You are less afraid, much less afraid. First curious, intrigued. Then summoned, now seduced. By the pictures, by the scrolls. And by the books, by all of these books –
Don’t be scared, they whisper. We can bring you to another time, we can take you to a different world. In their piles, in their rows. A better time, a better world, they whisper. Come closer, Ryūnosuke. Come closer and see. You walk towards the piles of books, you walk towards the rows of books. We will be your guard, we will be your shield. And you reach out your hand, now you take up a book. Your guard and your shield. And you open up the book, open up the book and see. Another time, a different world. You see, you see. A better time, a better world. This is the start, the start of it all …
In the dim light, on the frayed tatami. First there are the pictures, the lurid illustrations. In the Kusazōshi, the Edo storybooks. So vivid, so magical. With their pictures of ghosts, with their pictures of monsters. Your eyes wide, your heart pounding. In the dim light, on the frayed tatami. Then there are the words, the cryptic signs. In Saiyūki, in Suikoden, these Chinese classics, in abridged translations. So intense, so spellbinding. With their legends of heroes, with their tales of adventures. Your eyes wider still, your heart pounding faster. In the dim light, on the frayed tatami. Word after word, sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, page after page. You read and you read. In the dim light, on the frayed tatami. Becoming these heroes, living their adventures. In another time, a different world. A better time and a better world. That dim, dim light, now pale moonlight. The frayed tatami, now forest floors. The dripping tap, a thunderous river. The steep stairs, a mountain pass. Your bedding, now a bearskin. Reading and reading, learning and learning. You learn all the names of the One Hundred and Eight Heroes at Liangshan Marsh, you learn all their names, their names by heart. Your heart steady now, your eyes narrow now. Your toy wooden sword, a cold metal blade. You are battling with the fierce warrior beauty Ten Feet of Steel, you are duelling with the wild, brash monk Lu Zhishen. Against merciless bandits, against night witches. With bloody cudgels and with whistling arrows. Living characters, true heroes. These characters your friends, these heroes your teachers. They teach you bravery, they give you courage –
Don’t be scared, they shout. Be strong, Ryūnosuke! Be strong …
So you read and you read. Page after page, page after page. You read and you read, on and on. Legends and tales, stories then novels. Book after book, on and on. You read and you read. Not afraid, not afraid. No longer afraid. You read and you read. In the house, then at school. At your desk, on the street. You read and you read. Bashō and Bakin. Izumi Kyōka and Kunikida Doppo. Mori Ōgai and Natsume Sōseki. Japanese books and foreign books. The Bible and Aesop. Shakespeare and Goethe. Pu Songling and Anatole France. Book after book, character after character. Living each book, becoming each character. Hamlet and Mephistopheles, Don Juan and Julien Sorel, Prince Andrei and Ivan Karamazov. Each book a revelation, each character a transformation. So many characters, so many, many books –
We will guide you, Ryūnosuke. We will help you …
They keep whispering to you, keep calling you. Inside the house, now from outside the house. So many books, so many more books, but so little money, so very little money. Your adoptive father is a cultured man, yet a frugal man. But there are the libraries, always the libraries. And your own frugality, and your own guile. The public libraries across the river are too far, too far for an elementary schoolboy. But by the Big Ditch, so near to home, so close to hand, there is a commercial Rental Library. The sweet old lady who runs the place, she smiles at you, the sweet old lady who runs the place, she calls you ‘Sonny Boy’. So day after
