Updates, Live

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Sōseki: Ten Nights' Dreams - The Second Dream



Firstly another text, also of Sōseki, that is not part of his Ten Nights' Dreams. After my comment on the text, the Second Dream will follow.

This is the dream I dreamed.

I'm thirsty. That's the only thing I had said to my wife as we sat in our house talking. Looking at me with a smile, she said, why don't you frequent the local tea house?

I sat there for a minute, pondering her suggestion. Why was it her suggestion had been the only thing I remembered her saying during our entire conversation? The thought troubled me but I quickly put it aside as I slipped on my sandals and prepared to leave.

Opening the door my wife's soft voice spoke, I love you. I turned around to see her smiling, yet for some reason she seemed to embody a feeling of sadness. I whispered those same words to her as I left.

Walking down the path I stared out towards the fields, the sun had begun to plunge into the horizon. Had I realized how late in the day it was, I most likely wouldn't have left, but what my wife felt was best I would follow.

Coming upon the tea house, I made my way up the steps, proceeding inside.

Surveying the establishment I began to notice that there were only three tables. In the corner sat a young couple, obviously enjoying each others company. The other two tables were empty, and the hostess was no where in sight. Beginning to take off my sandals I heard a meek voice whisper from a few foot steps away, welcome. Lifting my gaze I was staring into the eyes of my wife, until we broke contact as she bowed.

Motioning for me to follow her, I was being taken to the table in the middle of the room. Taking my seat she left, returning a few seconds later with tea.

Pouring me a small cup I lifted it to my lips, slowly sipping. The tea was warm and seemed to bring a calming effect to my mind, but not one of complete contentment. With my wife nowhere in sight, I poured myself another cup of tea and I once again slowly sipped. This time I felt the same calming effect as my thirst slowly diminished, yet I was still not content.

Sitting there for hours, my wife had not shown herself, I continued to consume tea. Each cup became decreasingly fulfilling, until I came to the point where my thirst had been satisfied, but I remained far from content. Becoming tired of the tea I absently began to stare at the young couple in the corner.

Though subtle, their affection for each other was readily apparent watching them talk. They seemed to enjoy the hours that passed as I watched, the two drinking tea. Through their actions they seemed to enjoy each cup of tea, more and more, as they faithfully drank. I was expecting them to run out of tea, but no matter how many times they partook in drinking, the pot always remained full, despite the lack of a hostess.

Seeing that contentment would not be obtained at the moment from sipping the tea, though the young couple seemed to have grasped it instantly, I decided to leave. Passing by the empty table in the other corner, I began to wonder if any other patrons would show up this night.

Walking home I noticed how late it was and hurried my step, wanting to return home to my wife without haste.

Entering my darkened house I proceeded to the bedroom to find my wife asleep. Not wanting to disturb her I laid myself to sleep also. Slowly drifting off I began to realize that I was once again thirsty.

Morning had arrived and noticing my wife soundly asleep I decided to leave the house, to attend to my daily tasks. Uneventfully my day passed and I decided to return home.

Entering the house and once again before me was my wife, smiling. We engaged in a small conversation, nothing of significance, ending in a suggestion by her, why don't you frequent the local tea house?

Foreseeing that suggestion, I once again agreed, and made my way down the road.
Just as the last time, it was late in the day. Arriving at the tea house, I made my way inside. Once again my wife greeted me after I had begun to take off my sandals, and proceeded to guide me to the middle table. The young couple in the corner as yesterday, enjoying their tea.

I proceeded to drink again, but I consumed fewer cups of tea. The tea had become less satisfying to me than the last time I visited the tea house.

As time passed, I once again noticed my wife was no where to be found and my attention once again turned to the young couple in the corner. How happy they are I thought, drinking the tea and sharing each others company, truly in love.

After a short while I decided to once again to return home, not feeling satisfied from the tea I had just consumed. Leaving the tea house I passed the empty table in the corner again. Absence at the table, will it ever be filled? Exiting the door I made my way home again, walking down the road.

Coming upon a dark house once again, I discovered my wife soundly asleep and decided to join her.

The next day I had noticed a routine had developed, and I proceeded to continue following it for a long time. Yet no matter how often I drank the tea, it seemed to become less and less calming.
After a while I had come to my decision.

Why don't you frequent the local tea house?

I no longer find it to content me, I responded.

My wife just smiled.

(Natsume Sōseki)


My comment:

It awakes in me the same feelings as the First Dream: you repeat the same thing, again and again, till you realize tat there is no past, there is no future, there is no History, you are no distinct, Cosmos is Eternal. I should speak about the moments of Stasis at the end of Ozu's movies, of Kiarostami's Five Dedicated to Ozu, at Ray's Apu Trilogy. Perhaps Ray is the greatest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

And here is The Second Dream:






This is the dream I dreamed.

I had left the priest’s room, and when I returned to my room via the passageway, the paper lantern was burning faintly. I fell to a cushion on one knee and when I poked at the wick, a flower-like clove suddenly fell to the vermilion-lacquered stand. At the same time the room burst into light.

The painting on the sliding screen door was Buson’s work. Here and there black willow trees were drawn with shades of light and dark, a cold looking fisherman with his bamboo hat askew was passing along the top of an embankment. A scroll of Monju Crossing the Sea was hanging in the alcove. The dark portion of the burnt remains of incense was still fragrant. The temple was large, so it was silent and deserted. As I looked up, the round shadow from the round paper lantern that shone on the black ceiling looked almost alive.

I sat with one knee upright and flipped the cushion over with my left hand. When I thrust my right hand into the cushion it was right where I thought it would be. If it was there it was a relief, so I put the cushion back and sat on it heavily.

You are a samurai. There should be no reason why a samurai can’t attain enlightenment, the priest said. So if you try to carry that part of you that can’t reach enlightenment forever, you must not be a samurai. You’re human waste, ha ha, you’re mad, he said with a laugh. If you regret it then bring back proof that you’re enlightened, he said and abruptly turned his back to me. It was insulting.

I would surely reach enlightenment before the clock set in the alcove in the neighboring hall
strikes the next hour. After I was enlightened, tonight, I would again enter the priest’s room to be educated. Then, I would exchange enlightenment with his neck. If I wasn’t enlightened then I couldn’t take his life. I had to become enlightened at any cost. I am a samurai.

If I couldn’t become enlightened I would commit suicide with my sword. There can be no meaning in living for a samurai that has been humiliated. I would die beautifully.

When I thought this my hand went again, unconsciously, under the cushion. I pulled out a dagger with a vermilion scabbard. I gripped the handle tightly. When I drew the scabbard off, the cool edge of the blade lit up the room at once. It made me think that some amazing thing was escaping from my hand. It would all gather at the tip of my blade, my thirst for blood concentrated into a single point. I looked at the sharp edge, unfortunately shrunken like the head of a needle, down twelve inches to where it inevitably came to point, and suddenly, I wanted to stab. My body’s blood started to flow to my right wrist and the handle became slimy. My lips quivered.

I put the dagger back in its scabbard and fixed it to my right side. Then I sat in the Lotus position the Zen master Zhaozhou had said, nothing. What is nothing? Damn priest! I said gnashing my teeth.

Since I was strongly clenching my teeth, I violently exhaled hot breath from my nose. My temples cramped and hurt. My eyes opened at least twice as large as normal.

I could see the hanging scroll. I could see the paper lantern. I could see the tatami. I could vividly see the priest’s bald-kettle-head. I could even hear his sneering voice from his fat open mouth. Insulting priest! I must remove that kettle-head at all cost. I’d enlighten him! Nothing, nothing, I recited from the root of my tongue. And in spite of nothing the incense still smelled. Hateful incense!

I suddenly clenched my fist and hit myself in the head terribly hard. Then I gnashed my teeth. Sweat poured from my armpits. My back became like a rod. My knee joints suddenly became painful. I wondered what I would do if my knees broke. But it hurt. It was painful. Nothing wouldn’t come. When I thought nothing would come, it instantly became agony. I was getting angry. I was vexed. I was becoming extremely frustrated. Tears fell from my eyes. Once and for all, I wanted to throw my body onto a large rock, and smash my flesh and bones to pieces.

Yet I endured and sat still. I endured while an almost unbearable sadness filled my chest. That sadness was lifting up the muscles of my body and hurried to try to blow out of my pores. But it was completely blocked. It was like being in a state of the most extreme cruelty without escape.
While that was happening my head became strange. The paper lantern and Buson’s painting, the tatami and the staggered shelves looked there and not there, I could see them not there and there. But nothing didn’t appear at all. It was like I had just sat there half-assed. Then, all of a sudden, the clock in the next room started to chime.

I was startled. My hand went instantly to my dagger. The clock chimed a second time.

(Natsume Sōseki, translation by Chris Pearce)


My comment:

As a samurai, he had to kill the one who had insulted him. But that one was a priest, so he had firstly to arrive at the enlightenment, when the objects are there while no more there: nothing is distinct any more, you are within Cosmos.


(Sōseki)

(The Thousand faces of HANAFUBUKI)

Labels: , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home