A Trying to meet all your book preview and review needs.
to e-mail us: support the site |
Foreign Studies general information | review summaries | our review | links | about the author
- Return to top of the page -
Our Assessment:
B+ : an interesting, and interestingly conceived, triptych See our review for fuller assessment.
Review Consensus: - Return to top of the page - The complete review's Review:
Endō Shūsaku begins his Introduction by noting that: "The reader of Foreign Studies may be surprised that the novel comprises three separate parts".
The three parts -- 'A Summer in Rouen', 'Araki Thomas', and 'And You, Too' -- are, in fact, distinct stories, with no overlap of characters or the like, and English-language reviewers (and translator Mark Williams, in his Foreword) have described the book as a story-collection -- linked by a common theme (the experience of a Japanese student/scholar in Europe) but nothing more.
It is arguably even a rather lopsided collection, not three roughly equally weighted variations on the theme, but rather two small stabs at it and one much more extensive exploration, as the first two parts are twenty-five and twelve pages long respectively, while the final one clocks in at novel-length all on its own, at 180 pages.
So Foreign Studies appears to be neither a conventional story collection nor a work adhering to the traditional novel-form; nevertheless, its three components are very much all of a piece.
Araki Thomas was one of those new-style intellectuals to emerge in Japan during that period, having studied Latin and Portuguese and acquired a nodding acquaintance with ethics and the basics of religious study.With the volte-face of 1587, Christianity was suddenly no longer tolerated in Japan, and Araki went abroad -- eventually becoming: "the first Japanese student to travel to Europe", and returning to Japan only in 1618. Once back, he managed to remain undercover for a while but was arrested and quickly: "apostatized under torture", and eventually was prodded to convince other Christian prisoners to apostatize. Apparently he didn't suffer enough for his beliefs, as Endō closes his story by noting that his legacy in official Catholic circles isn't the most impressive: Catholic sources describe him in the following terms: 'Japanese apostate. Studied in Europe. Received a rapturous welcome wherever he went -- but ultimately succumbed to pride.'Throughout the brief account, Endō repeatedly notes the absence of much of a record of almost anything in Araki's life (down to when he might have died, or his original Japanese name). He is a figure existing almost only in outlines -- allowing the novelist to imagine his progress around the few known facts. Short, 'Araki Thomas' is essentially a summary-story -- but effectively describing both European attitudes to this exotic visitor and the harsh crackdown on Christianity in the Japan of that time. While seemingly sticking to the factual, Endō does also strongly color the account with his interpretation, as in describing how: "Yet the more he enjoyed their friendship and expectations, the more melancholy Araki Thomas became". Melancholy pervades all three parts of Foreign Studies, as his Japanese-abroad never find their comfort zone. So also in the longest piece, 'And You, Too', which finds the young university lecturer Tanaka going to Paris for a lengthy research trip in the mid-1960s. The story begins with the last part of Tanaka's arrival -- a brief stopover in Hamburg and then then flight on to Paris -- and he already stands (or rather, stands himself) apart from the other Japanese travelers: Everything about him seemed to be saying, 'We may all be Japanese, but I'm of a different race from you.' Having finished about hal his beer, he put on the beret which had been lying on the chair beside him and, book in hand, left the restaurant alone.The beret is a beautiful touch, and the whole quick scene perfectly sums up the would-be literary scholar. His unwillingness to engage with the small Japanese community in Paris continues to be one of his major problems -- and a hurdle to possible success, here or then looking ahead to his return to Japan. This issue becomes even more pronounced when he finds that a junior colleague, Suganuma, is also coming to Paris, further undermining his position at his department at the university back home: what should be a great stepping stone in Tanaka's career in fact turns out to be one that only helps further sideline him. (Of course: "Tanaka had chosen to study the rather drab eighteenth century, whereas Suganuma was engaged on research into post-war literature".) The contrast to how adroitly Suganuma navigates the French opportunities reïnforces the sense of how much of a fish out water Tanaka is -- more so in this foreign territory, but clearly also even on the (academic) turf he had hoped to claim as his own. (Endō perhaps goes a bit too far in rubbing in just how much better Suganuma is at everything in having him even having won over the student Tanaka has a fondness for. (Tanaka is married, with a young child, but the arranged marriage has paired him with someone he feels rather limited passion for. Of course, Tanaka is also the kind of husband who tells his wife that: "nothing could make one happier than the mundane".). If Suganuma exacerbates Tanaka's feelings of inadequacy and mediocrity, so does his research project: Tanaka is studying the Marquis de Sade, and he finds he can't measure up to the man: "he had come to worry more and more about the total lack of any connection between Sade and himself". So also he wonders: Why had someone like himself become involved in the study of Sade ? Tanaka wondered whether he wouldn't have done better to pick on some more down-to-earth writer -- someone less flamboyant, less ambitious.As a university lecturer, writing about writers rather than being creative himself, Tanaka feels -- and is made to feel -- lesser. Sade is like a constant rebuke in that regard, too, triumphant despite all the adversity he faced, as: the incarcerated writer is furnished with only one weapon with which to pursue his struggle. His only weapon is his power of creativity. With this power he has to construct the true society of his dreams away from real society.Tanaka makes the pilgrimage to various sites that figured in Sade's life, but of course the figure itself remains elusive: Tanaka can not in some way follow in his footsteps (in one snowy instance, literally), can not become like this man. Locales are important in 'And You, Too' -- Tanaka does a lot of sightseeing -- and it's also typical that, in Paris, he chooses to settle down in the hotel in which Proust spent his last years, and where he died. In his hotel, Tanaka befriends another Japanese -- another Japanese who, like him, has largely avoided the local Japanese community. An architect, he has been here longer, but he succumbs to TB and has to abandon his studies, returning to Japan as a failure; unsurprisingly, a similar fate awaits Tanaka (despite him telling himself, from when he first gets to know this Sakisaka: "I must not end up like that"). Foreign Studies offers three different examples of Japanese encounters with Europe, each always also with an eye out on what the experience will mean when the protagonists return home (and, in each case, promising at least a form of failure: Kudo is surely anything but the evangelist those looking after him in France hope for; Araki betrays both country and then faith; and Tanaka's academic career is headed for several nasty bumps). The experiences abroad are less of disappointment than dissatisfaction, the protagonists unable to bridge East and West and instead wandering searchingly and frustratedly (there is quite a bit of wandering in all three pieces). Especially in 'And You, Too', other Japanese experiences are also presented, including those of some who have spent much longer in France and can't imagine going back and others who know how to use the foreign experience to enhance their positions back home, but none of Endō's central characters find a way of satisfactorily (or even resignedly) settling in between East and West. In no small part, of course, it's also due to issues of their own, the baggage they carry with them -- though certainly Kudo's situation isn't made any easier by the lingering presence of dead Paul. In one of the asides on Sade, Tanaka/Endō note (not quite correctly) that Sade's vision was so immense and far-reaching that: Sade was unable to write short stories. The size of both The Hundred and Twenty Days of Sodom and his great work Justine bear adequate testimony to the frantic yet earnest desire of Sade, the incarcerated writer, to overcome the real world outside and to stand in opposition to it.It sounds like a nod to Endō's undertaking here, the two first stories here trying to capture something in a small space, and then the realization that a much larger-scale (almost Sadean ...) take is needed. Melancholy, and in part downright bleak, Foreign Studies chronicles failure -- though the characters Endō uses leaves open the question of whether the failures are cultural or personal. Certainly, the confrontation with a very different world, culture, and history proves challenging for each of the protagonists -- in interestingly different ways, as Endō relies on three very different characters and situations. All in all it makes for a quite successful work -- if also a somewhat jarring mix. - M.A.Orthofer, 1 February 2020 - Return to top of the page - Foreign Studies:
- Return to top of the page - Catholic Japanese author Endo Shusaku (Endō Shūsaku, 遠藤周作) lived 1923 to 1996. - Return to top of the page -
© 2020-2023 the complete review
|