Child of Fortune
So, here is an excerpt from Child of Fortune by Tsushima. I was reading it for my Japanese lit class, and this portion struck me as relevant. Of course, please don't take it at face value, but its more the emotional feelings behind it that struck me as relevant. Anyway, enjoy.
"Mingled with their voices, she heard something that Hatanaka had once said. It was when he was seeking a seperation, and insisting how deeply he loved her. -You probably didn't know, but I've made more than one woman get an abortion before now, for your sake and Kayako's.- This, he seemed to be saying, showed how much he'd always loved them both, and how hard it would be to leave them, and yet he must, he had to make a fresh start in life; if he stayed where he was it would finish him.
-I've left women, too, for your sake. I was thinking of you and Kayako all along. But now you don't seem to need me any more. It's time you lived your own life, anyway. You don't have to let me drag you down. Your family has money. I'll be penniless from the day I leave. But I'll survive somehow, you'll see. And I won't forget you two. I'll never love another woman, I know.- Sometimes Hatanaka would be moved to tears.
But it had made Koo's flesh creep to hear him offer these proofs of his love-- the women he'd left, the children he wouldn't let him have. Could she really have been prepared to stay with a man like that all her life? It had given her a pang of concern for that unknown young woman whose existence, but no more, had become obvious from phone calls and letters. She felt a certain guilt that went with being one man's wife.
he legal proceedings followed over a year later, but she was already indifferent to Hatanaka by the time he wanted a divorce. His good looks made his narcissism especially hard to miss. When Koko reflected that she was one of the reasons for his complacency while she remained his wife, she couldn't stand it a moment longer. She could never forgive Hatanaka: a man who'd tell his wife unashamedly--no, with pride--that he had made another woman get rid of a baby.
-I can't take this life any more, though you don't care, do you? Why the silent treatment? Screw you and your gloomy looks! I'd like to hear some laughter around here, i want to enjoy life, I like women who make a man feel wanted. Come on, say something, if you've got anything to say! There's any number of women just waiting till I'm available. You've never tried to share even one of my problems, have you?-
Hatanaka had put Koko on her guard against emotion in others. Nothing was harder to handle. Like honey, the sweet flood, once begun, would soon engulf him, clogging his eyes and ears. He was trapped, though in his own mind at least he seemed to glow with beauty through the amber liquid. What visions might its sweet intoxication bring? Many a time Koko had reacted seriously to something he had said, only to hear him flatly contradict it later; after much confusion she eventually learned to pay as little attention as she would a child's fibs. Yet she had to admit there was resonance and fluency in the words born on that torrent of emotion..."
"Mingled with their voices, she heard something that Hatanaka had once said. It was when he was seeking a seperation, and insisting how deeply he loved her. -You probably didn't know, but I've made more than one woman get an abortion before now, for your sake and Kayako's.- This, he seemed to be saying, showed how much he'd always loved them both, and how hard it would be to leave them, and yet he must, he had to make a fresh start in life; if he stayed where he was it would finish him.
-I've left women, too, for your sake. I was thinking of you and Kayako all along. But now you don't seem to need me any more. It's time you lived your own life, anyway. You don't have to let me drag you down. Your family has money. I'll be penniless from the day I leave. But I'll survive somehow, you'll see. And I won't forget you two. I'll never love another woman, I know.- Sometimes Hatanaka would be moved to tears.
But it had made Koo's flesh creep to hear him offer these proofs of his love-- the women he'd left, the children he wouldn't let him have. Could she really have been prepared to stay with a man like that all her life? It had given her a pang of concern for that unknown young woman whose existence, but no more, had become obvious from phone calls and letters. She felt a certain guilt that went with being one man's wife.
he legal proceedings followed over a year later, but she was already indifferent to Hatanaka by the time he wanted a divorce. His good looks made his narcissism especially hard to miss. When Koko reflected that she was one of the reasons for his complacency while she remained his wife, she couldn't stand it a moment longer. She could never forgive Hatanaka: a man who'd tell his wife unashamedly--no, with pride--that he had made another woman get rid of a baby.
-I can't take this life any more, though you don't care, do you? Why the silent treatment? Screw you and your gloomy looks! I'd like to hear some laughter around here, i want to enjoy life, I like women who make a man feel wanted. Come on, say something, if you've got anything to say! There's any number of women just waiting till I'm available. You've never tried to share even one of my problems, have you?-
Hatanaka had put Koko on her guard against emotion in others. Nothing was harder to handle. Like honey, the sweet flood, once begun, would soon engulf him, clogging his eyes and ears. He was trapped, though in his own mind at least he seemed to glow with beauty through the amber liquid. What visions might its sweet intoxication bring? Many a time Koko had reacted seriously to something he had said, only to hear him flatly contradict it later; after much confusion she eventually learned to pay as little attention as she would a child's fibs. Yet she had to admit there was resonance and fluency in the words born on that torrent of emotion..."