Read Online The Changeling by Kenzaburō Ōe - Free Book Online
Authors: Kenzaburō Ōe
Tags: Fiction
Ads: Link
looks like the hair of a doll made from woolen yarn? I think they’re called European white birches, and in the springtime they put forth leaves that are smaller than the leaves of our Japanese white birches. There were some in front of the window of my office at Berkeley,” Kogito remarked.
“Goro must have wanted to paint that sky because it was such a gorgeous color,” Chikashi said. “I think this was when he went to Berlin the last time, for the film festival. It had been quite a while since he and Katsuko broke up, so he no longerhad the contacts from her film-importing business, and even though his movies were very well known over there, most of the attention was probably going to younger directors, so he seems to have been a bit dejected. I remember he told me on the phone that Berlin was cloudy every day, from morning on, and then it got dark around four PM . He said things like ‘Berlin in winter isn’t a fit place for a human being.’ But that makes it seem even more remarkable that this painting is so bright and full of life. He was probably walking around the city when an unusual set of colored pencils in an art-supply store caught his eye, and he just bought them on the spur of the moment. And then when he was looking out his hotel window at the first clear sky since he’d arrived, he suddenly felt like painting it. He didn’t have any proper drawing paper, so he must have used the back cover of the film-festival program or something. The thing is, Goro really wasn’t the type of person who would make a sketch of the view from his window while he was alone in his hotel room, was he? Remember when he was working at a commercial-art studio, and whenever he reached the final-design stage on one of his posters, he used to send you a telegram at your student lodgings, because he needed you to be there with him? Anyway, he told me, ‘There was someone there with me, watching me paint this picture. It was the person who was working as my interpreter/attendant, so no one was likely to gossip about her being in my hotel room. She was a really nice girl, and it’s only because she was there that I was able to make that sketch in an easy, relaxed way.’ Goro said that when he finished the picture, it seemed quite possible that the young woman might have asked impulsively whether she could have it. As he put it, ‘It would have been hard to refuse a request like that, so I tookpreemptive action: I told her I was going to send it to my younger sister, whom I’d been neglecting for far too long. I knew the address, of course.’ That’s the explanation Goro gave me, when I thanked him for the gift. But, you know, Goro never had much confidence in his art, even though he sometimes allowed his drawings to be published as illustrations for his writing, and he simply couldn’t bring himself to give his paintings to anyone.”
“I wonder what became of those watercolor pencils?” Kogito asked, momentarily awestruck by Chikashi’s unusual burst of eloquence. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such beautiful, subtle colors.”
“Goro told me that they were too bulky to pack in his trunk, and the pencil leads would probably have gotten broken in transit, so it just seemed easier to give the set to that girl. Apparently she had taken the university entrance exams, but decided to work in an office for a while before starting classes—I gathered that a lot of young people do that, in Germany. That’s how she came to be working as an interpreter/attendant, and the film festival assigned her to help Goro get around the city. At the time, I remember thinking that I would rather have had the colored pencils than the drawing, but now, of course, I’m very glad to have this picture.”
Kogito enjoyed doing handicraft projects, and he happily set to work on installing Goro’s watercolor painting in a suitable frame.
CHAPTER ONE
One Hundred Days
of Quarantine (I)
1
As he began his solitary sojourn in Berlin,
“Goro must have wanted to paint that sky because it was such a gorgeous color,” Chikashi said. “I think this was when he went to Berlin the last time, for the film festival. It had been quite a while since he and Katsuko broke up, so he no longerhad the contacts from her film-importing business, and even though his movies were very well known over there, most of the attention was probably going to younger directors, so he seems to have been a bit dejected. I remember he told me on the phone that Berlin was cloudy every day, from morning on, and then it got dark around four PM . He said things like ‘Berlin in winter isn’t a fit place for a human being.’ But that makes it seem even more remarkable that this painting is so bright and full of life. He was probably walking around the city when an unusual set of colored pencils in an art-supply store caught his eye, and he just bought them on the spur of the moment. And then when he was looking out his hotel window at the first clear sky since he’d arrived, he suddenly felt like painting it. He didn’t have any proper drawing paper, so he must have used the back cover of the film-festival program or something. The thing is, Goro really wasn’t the type of person who would make a sketch of the view from his window while he was alone in his hotel room, was he? Remember when he was working at a commercial-art studio, and whenever he reached the final-design stage on one of his posters, he used to send you a telegram at your student lodgings, because he needed you to be there with him? Anyway, he told me, ‘There was someone there with me, watching me paint this picture. It was the person who was working as my interpreter/attendant, so no one was likely to gossip about her being in my hotel room. She was a really nice girl, and it’s only because she was there that I was able to make that sketch in an easy, relaxed way.’ Goro said that when he finished the picture, it seemed quite possible that the young woman might have asked impulsively whether she could have it. As he put it, ‘It would have been hard to refuse a request like that, so I tookpreemptive action: I told her I was going to send it to my younger sister, whom I’d been neglecting for far too long. I knew the address, of course.’ That’s the explanation Goro gave me, when I thanked him for the gift. But, you know, Goro never had much confidence in his art, even though he sometimes allowed his drawings to be published as illustrations for his writing, and he simply couldn’t bring himself to give his paintings to anyone.”
“I wonder what became of those watercolor pencils?” Kogito asked, momentarily awestruck by Chikashi’s unusual burst of eloquence. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such beautiful, subtle colors.”
“Goro told me that they were too bulky to pack in his trunk, and the pencil leads would probably have gotten broken in transit, so it just seemed easier to give the set to that girl. Apparently she had taken the university entrance exams, but decided to work in an office for a while before starting classes—I gathered that a lot of young people do that, in Germany. That’s how she came to be working as an interpreter/attendant, and the film festival assigned her to help Goro get around the city. At the time, I remember thinking that I would rather have had the colored pencils than the drawing, but now, of course, I’m very glad to have this picture.”
Kogito enjoyed doing handicraft projects, and he happily set to work on installing Goro’s watercolor painting in a suitable frame.
CHAPTER ONE
One Hundred Days
of Quarantine (I)
1
As he began his solitary sojourn in Berlin,
Similar Books
