George Steiner: A Foreigner Who Visited Keio University

2017/05/05

On April 13, 1974, at Haneda Airport before the opening of Narita, Mr. Steiner—a literary and cultural critic at the height of his powers—arrived as a guest of Keio University, accompanied by his wife Zara and daughter Deborah. Born in 1929, he was 45 years old at the time. However, despite the announcement of the flight's arrival, they did not appear in the arrival lobby. Just as Professor Shinsuke Ando of the Faculty of Letters and I, who had come to meet them, began to check our watches incessantly, an announcement echoed: "Professor Shinsuke Ando of Keio University, please come to the Immigration Office."

Professor Steiner, an American citizen who required a visa to visit Japan, had arrived from London without one. One wonders if BOAC (now British Airways) failed to check his passport at the boarding gate. Soon after, at a seminar in Mita, he publicly declared, "My identity lies not in nations, people, or languages, but in the flow of time"—a perspective characteristic of his Jewish heritage. Born to an Austrian Jewish family living in Paris, his parents had been persecuted by the Gestapo (the secret state police of Nazi Germany). Just before being sent to the Auschwitz concentration camp, his parents threw George through the window of a train bound for Paris, and as a result, he was the only one to survive. Steiner possessed an intense awareness of issues, asking: "The executioner at Auschwitz enjoys a Mozart record with a cigar in his room, and the next day, without any heartache, he flips the switch for the gas chambers. Is there culture there? What is civilization?" His visit to Japan began amidst such turbulence. Looking back, it was a time when only 30 years had passed since the Holocaust by the Nazis. The issue of Auschwitz was the core of his criticism.

Ultimately, Steiner, who carried a formal invitation from President Hiroshi Kuno, appeared in the lobby, separated from the rock groups who had brought in drugs. He was granted a 48-hour temporary visa. It goes without saying that a formal visa was issued later. Steiner's first words upon arriving in Japan, "It was like something out of Kafka," still ring in my ears. His English, like his identity, had no regional accent. This is understandable when one considers his brilliant career: born and raised in Paris to German-speaking parents, studied at the French Lycée in New York, graduated from the University of Chicago in one year, earned a Master's from Harvard and a Doctorate from Oxford, served as an editor for *The Economist*, then became a researcher and professor at Princeton, a Fulbright professor at the University of Innsbruck, an Extraordinary Fellow at the newly founded Churchill College at Cambridge, and, at the time of his visit to Japan, a Professor of Comparative Literature at the University of Geneva.

Steiner arrived in Mita just as the student protests of the 1960s were settling down. Up-and-coming researchers like Kimiyoshi Yura, a professor in the Faculty of Economics (later a professor at the University of Tokyo), had translated his works such as *Language and Silence: Essays on Language, Literature, and the Inhuman* (1967) one after another, so his ideas were being welcomed by the public. To utilize the Mantaro Kubota Foundation, the "young crowd" (those who had been busy resolving the student protests) surrounding Dean Yasaburo Ikeda of the Faculty of Letters seemed to have moved to invite Steiner. I say "seemed to" because at the time I had just become an assistant and was merely acting as an errand boy for Professor Ando.

Under Professor Ando's leadership, a two-day seminar was held at Mita, with participation from active mid-career figures like Shigeru Koike, Yoshiyuki Fujikawa, Yasunari Takahashi, Masao Yamaguchi, and Jun Eto, as well as celebrities like Rikutaro Fukuda, Kenzaburo Ohashi, Shigehiko Toyama, and Minako Oba. After Mr. Steiner's lecture, professors such as Takao Suzuki and Hideichi Matsubara joined the discussion. When Professor Suzuki asked, "What color is a rainbow?", Mr. Steiner quipped back, "Five colors, maybe six, I'm not sure. Because the last poet to see a rainbow in England was Wordsworth." During the Q&A session, he handled responses by navigating through English, French, and German. He showed the world what an internationally active scholar should look like.

After the public lectures and specialist seminars, opportunities for interviews with magazines like *Eureka*, *The Study of English*, and *Shincho*, as well as social gatherings, were arranged. In a dialogue for the monthly magazine *Sekai* with critic Shuichi Kato, they had a heated debate, pounding on the table. On the other hand, at a traditional restaurant in Mukojima, there was a moment where he was captivated by the refined performance of a geisha in her 90s who was still vigorously playing the shamisen. Steiner, a lover of classical music, attended an NHK Symphony Orchestra subscription concert invited by Professor Ando. They heard Shostakovich's Symphony No. 7 "Leningrad," conducted by the composer's son Maxim. When the massive piece ended, he spat out, "How totalitarian." The program that night also included Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 3, with Pollini as the soloist—a truly luxurious lineup.

Steiner, who requested time to speak with students, gave comments to graduate students in the Department of Literature with enjoyment, though sometimes with biting wit. I was given the opportunity to attend as a young faculty member to prepare for any unforeseen circumstances. When one male student complained, "I think studying literature at university is useful for society, but my family opposes it," Steiner replied without a moment's hesitation: "Studying literature is not useful for society. It is nothing but self-satisfaction. That is exactly why you should cherish this precious time. If you want to do literature for the rest of your life, marry a rich man's daughter."

Steiner, born on April 23, celebrated his birthday ten days after arriving in Japan. That day happened to be the birthday and death anniversary of the great writer Shakespeare, the feast day of St. George (the patron saint of England), and it also coincided with Keio Foundation Day. At this coincidence, even the man known as a fierce debater broke into a wide smile of delight.

As his stay neared its end, Steiner reportedly said to Professor Ando: "Before coming here, I read Professor Chie Nakane's *Japanese Society* (1967, also a bestseller in English translation) and heard from Dr. Carmen Blacker (a Japan researcher at Cambridge who earned her doctorate with a thesis on Yukichi Fukuzawa) that Japan is a vertical society. I was told this repeatedly, but it seems Keio is different. Observing the behavior of you and Mr. Takamiya, it is free and open, exactly like the mentor-disciple relationships seen in Western society." He truly had a keen eye, perceiving the free and open atmosphere within Keio. Though, it might have just been because I was walking around with a large frame and an air of confidence.

Steiner was a lecturer in English literature at Cambridge, but he was not promoted to professor and was not re-employed after his three-year term. His outspoken behavior likely drew backlash from conservative professors. Like F.R. Leavis and later Colin MacCabe, Steiner was driven out of Cambridge and became a Professor of Comparative Literature at the University of Geneva. However, he continued to live in Cambridge thereafter, and when he returned home on weekends, I often witnessed him standing tall in front of the University Library on Saturday mornings before it opened. This was because I was also studying abroad in Cambridge for three years at the time. I would meet him at academic conferences or encounter him at Cambridge Station waiting for the train to London. Each time, he would call out, "How is Mr. Ando?" Later, he continued a family-to-family friendship with Professor Ando's family when they stayed in Cambridge for a research sabbatical.

Professor Steiner seemed to be poor at sports due to the aftereffects of polio he contracted as a child, and he once suffered from heart failure. However, he continued his critical activities after that. Steiner, who frequently played chess, wrote a famous spectator's account titled *The Sporting Scene: White Knights of Reykjavik* (1973).

The impact Steiner left at Mita was as great as the visit of Sartre and Beauvoir to the Juku (1966). I was also greatly stimulated and immersed myself in reading his works. For me, Steiner's most shocking remark was during the seminar at Mita when he glared with wide eyes and declared, "Lately, there are too many researchers who talk about Dante through T.S. Eliot's essays on Dante without actually reading Dante." It made my spine tingle. It was a time when modern critical theory was becoming popular, and Steiner, following Leavis's *The Great Tradition* (1948), sought to reclaim the understanding of works within that tradition, continuing to sound the alarm against the tendency to play with classics by brandishing critical theory. This was a theme carried through since his early collection of essays, *Language and Silence*.

Perhaps sensing a trend of people expecting him to publish a discourse on Japan or the Japanese people after returning home—having debated with Japanese intellectuals, admired the cherry blossoms, and toured Kyoto during his short stay—Steiner said the following in a dialogue with cultural anthropologist Masao Yamaguchi: "There have been very famous people who came to Japan for the first time and stayed for only a very short period, yet wrote a book about Japan immediately upon their return; I simply do not want to make that kind of mistake" (*Literature and the Language of Man: G. Steiner in Japan*). This was thought to be a sarcastic jab at the French philosopher Roland Barthes, who wrote *Empire of Signs* (1970).

The aftermath of Steiner's visit to the Juku continued until the end of the year. This was because *Literature and the Language of Man: G. Steiner in Japan* (Keio University Mita Bungaku Library), co-edited by Koji Shirai, Shin Wakabayashi, Miki Nakada, Shinsuke Ando, and Yasaburo Ikeda, was published. Professor Ando was the practical editor-in-chief, and the entire English Department was involved in the publication. For the Japanese translations of Steiner's lectures and dialogues, faculty members known as master translators, such as Yoshinosuke Ohashi, Akira Yamamoto, Kimiyoshi Yura, and Hirokazu Kato, were mobilized. Perhaps because this book is also highly valuable as a collection of materials, it currently sells for over 8,000 yen online, and as much as 18,000 yen if in good condition.

Looking at Wikipedia, one can see that Steiner, now nearly 90 years old, is still alive, and his appearance has changed from the baby-face he had when he visited the Juku. His daughter Deborah, who was a beautiful young girl, is now a professor at Columbia University. Steiner, who went into exile from France to New York in 1940, obtained U.S. citizenship that year. One wonders how President Trump's immigration policies appeared in his eyes. I would like to expect the same sharp-tongued criticism as before.