25 Years Since the Death of Shusaku Endo: Shusaku-ki and the Unpublished Diaries

2021/12/13

Scene from Shusaku-ki (Keio University Mita Campus East Building)

At the beginning of the year, Shusaku Endo's wife, Junko, passed away. She was 93 years old. It was January 17th, the 25th year since her husband's passing, and shortly thereafter she was laid to rest in the crypt (underground ossuary) of St. Ignatius Church in Kojimachi. Her husband's remains are flanked by his mother, Iku, and his wife, Junko... I recall the words the deceased once let slip: "I was blessed with both a mother and a wife. How lucky I have been with women. I have never even dated a woman I disliked."

Whether or not one's own mother counts as "luck with women" is another matter, but as someone who witnessed the life of the author Shusaku Endo from a relatively close distance, I cannot help but acknowledge that "blessed luck with women." His circle of friends consisted of innocent, cheerful women who would burst into peals of laughter, but among them was Keiko Toyama, whom he described in his essays as his "best friend," and who passed away on March 29th.

Regarding that, there is a bit of a coincidence. Just after noon, I was at my desk in my room listening to a CD. In the bay window in front of me, red and white geraniums and bougainvillea were in bloom, catching the afternoon sun. When the music changed to Mozart (Piano Sonata No. 15 in C major) played by Keiko Toyama, the necks of the flowering stems swayed slightly. This happened even though the windows were closed and the air conditioning was off. As a test, I changed to other songs, and the stems did not sway at all. Even when I played music by other performers, they did not move. Only with Keiko's Mozart did they sway as if laughing. I took out a postcard and reported this to Keiko with a strange sense of urgency. ...One week later, I received a phone call from her son, Koichi Toyama.

There is a passage in one of Shusaku Endo's essays: "I still want to believe. That not only trees, but even small flowers, can understand human feelings. (...) They do not understand our so-called 'language.' Rather, they react very sharply only to two waves—love and death—among the human emotions that resonate behind those words" (from "Kaleidoscope").

Twenty-five years have passed since his death, and it feels as though all of Endo-sensei's acquaintances have gathered in heaven. However, there are still many people in this world who admire him or empathize with Endo's literature—this year's Shusaku-ki made me feel that once again.

This memorial gathering, which began one year after his death, was first held at the Tokyo Kaikan, then moved to the Chugoku Hanten in Mita, and later to the Josui Kaikan in Hitotsubashi. Last year, it was cancelled to prevent the spread of COVID-19. However, for this 25th anniversary, it was held on Saturday, October 2nd, at the G-Lab on the 6th floor of the East Building at Keio University in Mita, using a "venue participation & remote" format (co-hosted by the Shusaku Endo Memorial Committee, the Mita Literature Society, and the Shusaku Club).

Through the remote format, distant facilities and participants could be connected to the venue (67 people attended at the venue, and 70 participated remotely). At this Shusaku-ki, for example, the Syusaku Endo Literary Museum in Nagasaki was connected via live broadcast. Along with the sunset over the Sumo-nada Sea visible from the building and the cosmos flowers spreading across the garden, the contents of the museum's new exhibition, "From 'Silence' to 'The Samurai'—A Journey Around the Mother," were introduced. Additionally, Mr. Van C. Gessel (a scholar of Japanese literature who has translated eight of Endo's works) spoke to the venue and remote participants from America, despite it being 2:00 AM local time. And in the "G-Lab," which is likely equipped with the most advanced technology at Keio in Mita, footage of Shusaku Endo dancing and singing in his amateur theater troupe "Kiza" was projected onto a screen covering the entire wall. Despite the lingering effects of COVID-19, it was an unprecedentedly fresh Shusaku-ki.

Last year, the unpublished novel "Against the Shadow" (Mita Bungaku, Summer 2020 issue) became a topic of conversation for its subject matter of parental discord and separation. This year, newly discovered unpublished diaries have been published in the Autumn issue of "Mita Bungaku" under the title "Shusaku Endo's Diary: Death, Christ, and Literature."

These diaries were written between 1961 and 1974, when the author was between 38 and 51 years old. While parts of the diaries have previously appeared in books and magazines, most are unpublished. It is a daily record of what could be called his prime as a writer, but the highlight is likely the Israel travelogue for the research of "On the Shores of the Dead Sea" (the full-length novel written after "Silence"). It is fascinating to see how the plot and specific images of the novel were built up during this research trip, which could be described as a pilgrimage to Jesus.

Other impressive parts include his shock at the "Mishima Incident" on November 25, 1970, his immersion in reading Mishima's work "Runaway Horses," and his continued reflection on the meaning of the death of the author Yukio Mishima. However, what is most admirable is the vast amount of reading he did to write his novels. The books he read, the books he should read, the books he packed in his travel bags—his empathy for them, and sometimes his doubt and rejection, as well as his frustration at being interrupted and his thirst for reading, overwhelm the reader. I am poignantly reminded that a writer is a reader before they are a writer.

In 2023, Shusaku Endo will mark the 100th anniversary of his birth. This year, the 25th anniversary of his death, has made me deeply feel that it was a year suggesting that this writer who lived in the 20th century will surely continue to gain new readers in this century as well.