Twelve Views from the Distance
by Mutsuo Takahashi
Translated by Jeffrey Angles
University of Minnesota Press. 243 pages, $19.95
THIS THOUGHTFUL, unusual book is an absorbing memoir of gay Japanese poet Mutsuo Takahashi’s childhood years. It originally appeared in serialized form in 1969 and was published as a book the following year. In the twelve chapters, Takahashi looks over formative moments of his youth and examines the ripples they have had in his later life.
Covering the first fifteen years of his life, from 1937 to 1952, he tells of his father’s premature death by pneumo-nia, brought on by overwork, and the remaining family’s return to his paternal grandparents’ home in Nogota. Shortly afterwards, his older sister passed away from meningitis. Takahashi recalls with striking clarity several incidents in his grandparents’ home, including the time when he was beaten for entering his uncle’s room, with the punishment continuing because he wouldn’t stop crying.
One recurring theme is the mystery of his mother’s disappearance. His grandmother had first told him that she would soon return, but when a package arrived from China months later, he realized where she had gone. When she finally returned, he realized that she had subtly changed. Not until many years later does he understand the nature of her experiences abroad and how they affected her.
Takahashi captures the spirit of his region through the local legends his grandparents told him: variations of traditional Japanese tales as well as stories of neighbors falling into ruin, such as the wife of a wealthy man who suddenly, as if possessed, moved out and lived under a bridge. He recounts the harsh, even savage power games that were played out among his peers at the schools he attended. While he was too young to directly experience World War II, it was never far away. He remembers how his family said goodbye to his uncle as he left to join the military, and later learned of his death in battle.
In later chapters, Takahashi recalls the emergence of his sexuality, which he discovered through brutal games played with rival groups of boys. As one of the first modern poets to write about same-sex desire in Japan, these experiences seem to have been crucial to Takahashi’s subsequent development and career. There are more tender moments, such as when he used the fragments of memories of his father to create a loving portrait, and discovered a piece of copied text written out by his father that his mother had hidden away. Still, these memories are tinged with loss, as Takahashi can only really know his father through the stories his family tells about him. Throughout the book, he begins to realize that sometimes a person’s absence can make a deeper impression than their presence.
While many of the descriptions are beautiful, the book points to the deep brutality in Japanese culture at this time, which cannot help but affect such a sensitive child as Takahashi was. He writes in an afterword about his severe alienation. Even when his mother passed away many decades later, he decided not to attend her funeral, as he knew that he’d be treated as an outsider.
Translator Jeffrey Angles explains in his introduction that he slightly expanded several passages to clarify otherwise obscure meanings for an English-speaking audience. There’s also a glossary, which is useful for remembering terms and mythological figures mentioned in the book. One trusts that Takahashi will follow this book with a memoir of his adult life and his experiences as a gay man in Japan.
________________________________________________________
Charles Green is a writer based in Annapolis, Maryland.
