Akutagawa Ryūnosuke
(March 1, 1892 – July 24, 1927) was a Japanese writer who is considered the “Father
of the Japanese Short Story”. He is noted for “his superb style and finely detailed
stories that explore the darker side of human nature.” This story, “In a Grove”
(藪の中 Yabu no Naka) was first published in the January 1922 in the literature monthly Shinchō. It tells the story of the mysterious death of a samurai warrior from the perspective of six witnesses, each contradicting each other, plus the victim himself, told through a spirit medium. The story has been adapted by the influential Japanese director Akira Kurosawa in the award-winning film, Rashōmon (1950). (Akutagawa’s earlier short shory “Rashōmon”, a gate of the city of Kyoto, provided the setting for the movie; “In a Grove” provided the story and the characters.)
“In
a Grove”
By
Akutagawa Ryūnosuke
The Testimony of a Woodcutter Questioned by a High Police Commissioner
Yes,
sir. Certainly, it was I who found the body. This morning, as usual, I went to
cut my daily quota of cedars, when I found the body in a grove in a hollow in
the mountains. The exact location? About 150 meters off the Yamashina stage
road. It's an out-of-the-way grove of bamboo and cedars.
The
body was lying flat on its back dressed in a bluish silk kimono and a wrinkled
head-dress of the Kyoto style. A single sword-stroke had pierced the breast.
The fallen bamboo-blades around it were stained with bloody blossoms. No, the
blood was no longer running. The wound had dried
up, I believe. And also, a gad-fly was stuck fast there, hardly noticing my
footsteps.
You
ask me if I saw a sword or any such thing?
No,
nothing, sir. I found only a rope at the root of a cedar nearby. And … well, in
addition to a rope, I found a comb. That was all. Apparently he must have made
a battle of it before he was murdered, because the grass and fallen
bamboo-blades had been trampled down all around.
"A
horse was nearby?"
No,
sir. It's hard enough for a man to enter, let alone a horse.
The Testimony of a Traveling Buddhist Priest Questioned by a High Police Commissioner
The
time? Certainly, it was about noon yesterday, sir. The unfortunate man was on
the road from Sekiyama to Yamashina. He was walking toward Sekiyama with a
woman accompanying him on horseback, who I have since learned was his wife. A
scarf hanging from her head hid her face from view. All I saw was the color of
her clothes, a lilac-colored suit. Her horse was a sorrel with a fine mane. The
lady's height? Oh, about four feet five inches. Since I am a Buddhist priest, I took
little notice about her details. Well, the man was armed with a sword as well
as a bow and arrows. And I remember that he carried some twenty odd arrows in
his quiver.
Little
did I expect that he would meet such a fate. Truly human life is as evanescent
as the morning dew or a flash of lightning. My words are inadequate to express
my sympathy for him.
The Testimony of
a Policeman Questioned by a High Police Commissioner
The
man that I arrested? He is a notorious brigand called Tajomaru. When I arrested
him, he had fallen off his horse. He was groaning on the bridge at Awataguchi.
The time? It was in the early hours of last night. For the record, I might say
that the other day I tried to arrest him, but unfortunately he escaped. He was
wearing a dark blue silk kimono and a large plain sword. And, as you see, he
got a bow and arrows somewhere. You say that this bow and these arrows look
like the ones owned by the dead man? Then Tajomaru must be the murderer. The
bow wound with leather strips, the black lacquered quiver, the seventeen arrows
with hawk feathers—these were all in his possession I believe. Yes, Sir, the
horse is, as you say, a sorrel with a fine mane. A little beyond the stone
bridge I found the horse grazing by the roadside, with his long rein dangling.
Surely there is some providence in his having been thrown by the horse.
Of
all the robbers prowling around Kyoto, this Tajomaru has given the most grief
to the women in town. Last autumn a wife who came to the mountain back of the Pindora
of the Toribe Temple, presumably to pay a visit, was murdered, along with a
girl. It has been suspected that it was his doing. If this criminal murdered
the man, you cannot tell what he may have done with the man's wife. May it
please your honor to look into this problem as well.
The Testimony of
an Old Woman Questioned by a High Police Commissioner
Yes,
sir, that corpse is the man who married my daughter. He does not come from
Kyoto. He was a samurai in the town of Kokufu in the province of Wakasa. His
name was Kanazawa no Takehiko, and his age was twenty-six. He was of a gentle
disposition, so I am sure he did nothing to provoke the anger of others. My
daughter? Her name is Masago, and her age is nineteen. She is a spirited, fun-loving
girl, but I am sure she has never known any man except Takehiko. She has a
small, oval, dark-complexioned face with a mole at the corner of her left eye.
Yesterday
Takehiko left for Wakasa with my daughter. What bad luck it is that things
should have come to such a sad end! What has become of my daughter? I am
resigned to giving up my son-in-law as lost, but the fate of my daughter
worries me sick. For heaven's sake leave no stone unturned
to find her. I hate that robber Tajomaru, or whatever his name is. Not only my
son-in-law, but my daughter… (Her later words were drowned in tears.)
Tajomaru's
Confession
I
killed him, but not her. Where's she gone? I can't tell. Oh, wait a minute. No
torture can make me confess what I don't know. Now things have come to such a
head, I won't keep anything from you.
Yesterday
a little past noon I met that couple. Just then a puff of wind blew, and raised
her hanging scarf, so that I caught a glimpse of her face.
Instantly
it was again covered from my view. That may have been one reason; she looked
like a Bodhisattva. At that moment I made up my mind to capture her even if I
had to kill her man.
Why?
To me killing isn't a matter of such great consequence as you might think. When
a woman is captured, her man has to be killed anyway. In killing, I use the
sword I wear at my side. Am I the only one who kills people? You, you don't use
your swords. You kill people with your power,
with your money. Sometimes you kill them on the pretext of working for their
good. It's true they don't bleed. They are in the best of health, but all the
same you've killed them. It's hard to say who is a greater sinner, you or me.
(An ironic smile.)
But
it would be good if I could capture a woman without killing her man. So, I made
up my mind to capture her, and do my best not to kill him. But it's out of the
question on the Yamashina stage road. So I managed to lure the couple into the
mountains.
It
was quite easy. I became their traveling companion, and I told them there was
an old mound in the mountain over there, and that I had dug it open and found
many mirrors and swords. I went on to tell them I'd buried the things in a
grove behind the mountain, and that I'd like to sell them
at a low price to anyone who would care to have them. Then…you see, isn't greed
terrible? He was beginning to be moved by my talk before he knew it. In less
than half an hour they were driving their horse toward the mountain with me.
When
he came in front of the grove, I told them that the treasures were buried in
it, and I asked them to come and see. The man had no objection— he was blinded
by greed. The woman said she would wait on horseback. It was natural for her to
say so, at the sight of a thick grove.
To
tell you the truth, my plan worked just as I wished, so I went into the grove
with him, leaving her behind alone.
The
grove is only bamboo for some distance. About fifty yards ahead there's a
rather open clump of cedars. It was a convenient spot for my purpose. Pushing
my way through the grove, I told him a plausible lie that the treasures were
buried under the cedars. When I told him this, he pushed his laborious way
toward the slender cedar visible through the grove. After a while the bamboo
thinned out, and we came to where a number of cedars grew in a row. As soon as
we got there, I seized him from behind. Because he was a trained, sword-bearing
warrior, he was quite
strong, but he was taken by surprise, so there was no help for him. I soon tied
him up to the root of a cedar. Where did I get a rope? Thank heaven, being a
robber, I had a rope with me, since I might have to scale a wall at any moment.
Of course it was easy to stop him from calling out by gagging his mouth with
fallen bamboo leaves.
When
I disposed of him, I went to his woman and asked her to come and see him,
because he seemed to have been suddenly taken sick. It's needless to say that
this plan also worked well. The woman, her sedge hat off, came into the depths
of the grove, where I led her by the hand. The instant she caught sight of her
husband, she drew a small sword. I've never seen a woman of such violent
temper. If I'd been off guard, I'd have got a thrust in my side. I dodged, but
she kept on slashing at me. She might have wounded me deeply or killed me. But
I'm Tajomaru. I managed to strike down her small sword without drawing my own.
The most spirited woman is defenseless without a weapon. At least I could satisfy
my desire for her without taking her husband's life.
Yes…without
taking his life. I had no wish to kill him. I was about to run away from the
grove, leaving the woman behind in tears, when she frantically clung to my arm.
In broken fragments of words, she asked that either her husband or I die. She
said it was more trying than death to have her shame known to two men. She
gasped out that she wanted to be the wife of whichever survived. Then a furious
desire to kill him seized me. (Gloomy excitement.)
Telling
you in this way, no doubt I seem a crueler man than you. But that's because you
didn't see her face. Especially her burning eyes at that moment. As I saw her
eye to eye, I wanted to make her my wife even if I were to be struck by
lightning. I wanted to make her my wife… this single desire filled my mind.
This was not only lust, as you might think. At that time if I'd had no other
desire than lust, I'd surely not have minded knocking her down and running
away. Then I wouldn't have stained my sword with his blood. But the moment I
gazed at her face in the dark grove, I decided not to leave there without
killing him.
But
I didn't like to resort to unfair means to kill him. I untied him and told him
to cross swords with me. (The rope that was found at the root of the cedar is
the rope I dropped at the time.) Furious with anger, he drew his thick sword.
And quick as thought, he sprang at me ferociously, without speaking a word. I
needn't tell you how our fight turned out. The twenty-third stroke…please
remember this. I'm impressed with this fact still. Nobody under the sun has
ever clashed swords with me twenty strokes. (A cheerful smile.)
When
he fell, I turned toward her, lowering my blood-stained sword. But to my great
astonishment she was gone. I wondered to where she had run away. I looked for
her in the clump of cedars. I listened, but heard only a groaning sound from
the throat of the dying man.
As
soon as we started to cross swords, she may have run away through the grove to
call for help. When I thought of that, I decided it was a matter of life and
death to me. So, robbing him of his sword, and bow and arrows, I ran out to the
mountain road. There I found her horse still grazing quietly. It would be a
mere waste of words to tell you the later details, but before I entered town I
had already parted with the sword. That's all my confession. I know that my
head will be hung in chains anyway, so put me down for the maximum penalty. (A
defiant attitude.)
The Repentance
of a Woman Who Has Come to Kiyomizu Temple
In
the course of time I came to, and found that the man in blue silk was gone. I
saw only my husband still bound to the root of the cedar. I raised myself from
the bamboo-blades with difficulty, and looked into his face; but the expression
in his eyes was just the same as before.
Beneath
the cold contempt in his eyes, there was hatred. Shame, grief, and anger… I
don't know how to express my heart at that time. Reeling to my feet, I went up
to my husband.
"Takejiro,"
I said to him, "since things have come to this pass, I cannot live with
you. I'm determined to die…but you must die, too. You saw my shame. I can't
leave you alive as you are."
This
was all I could say. Still he went on gazing at me with loathing and contempt.
My heart breaking, I looked for his sword. It must have been taken by the
robber. Neither his sword nor his bow and arrows were to be seen in the grove.
But fortunately my small sword was lying at
my feet. Raising it over head, once more I said, "Now give me your life.
I'll follow you right away."
When
he heard these words, he moved his lips with difficulty. Since his mouth was
stuffed with leaves, of course his voice could not be heard at all. But at a
glance I understood his words. Despising me, his look said only, "Kill
me." Neither conscious nor unconscious, I stabbed the small sword through
the lilac-colored kimono into his breast.
Again
at this time I must have fainted. By the time I managed to look up, he had
already breathed his last—still in bonds. A streak of sinking sunlight streamed
through the clump of cedars and bamboos, and shone on his pale face. Gulping
down my sobs, I untied the rope from his dead body. And…and what has become of
me? Only that, since I have no more strength to tell you. Anyway, I hadn't the
strength to die. I stabbed my own throat with the small sword, I threw myself
into a pond at the foot of the mountain, and I tried to kill myself in many
ways. Unable to end my life, I am still living in dishonor. (A lonely smile.)
Worthless as I am, I must have been forsaken even by the most merciful Kwannon.
I killed my own husband. I was violated by the robber. Whatever can I do?
Whatever can I… I… (Gradually, violent sobbing.)
The Story of the
Murdered Man, as Told Through a Medium
After
violating my wife, the robber, sitting there, began to speak comforting words
to her. Of course I couldn't speak. My whole body was tied fast to the root of
a cedar. But meanwhile I winked at her many times, as much as to say
"Don't believe the robber." I wanted to convey some such meaning to
her. But my wife, sitting dejectedly on the bamboo leaves, was looking hard at
her lap. To all appearance, she was listening to his words. I was agonized by
jealousy. In the meantime the robber went on with his clever talk, from one
subject to another. The robber finally made his bold brazen proposal.
"Once your virtue is stained, you won't get along well with your husband,
so won't you be my wife instead? It's my love for you that made me be violent
toward you."
While
the criminal talked, my wife raised her face as if in a trance. She had never
looked so beautiful as at that moment. What did my beautiful wife say in answer
to him while I was sitting bound there? I am lost in space, but I have never
thought of her answer without burning with anger and jealousy. Truly she said, "Then
take me away with you wherever you go."
This is not the whole of her sin. If that were all, I would not be tormented so much in the dark. When she was going out of the grove as if in a dream, her hand in the robber's, she suddenly turned pale, and pointed at me tied to the root of the cedar, and said, "Kill him! I cannot marry you as long as he lives." "Kill him!" she cried many times, as if she had gone crazy. Even now these words threaten to blow me headlong into the bottomless abyss of darkness. Has such a hateful thing come out of a human mouth ever before? Have such cursed words ever struck a human ear, even once? Even once such a…(A sudden cry of scorn.) At these words the robber himself turned pale. "Kill him," she cried, clinging to his arms. Looking hard at her, he answered neither yes nor no… but hardly had I thought about his answer before she had been knocked down into the bamboo leaves. (Again a cry of scorn.) Quietly folding his arms, he looked at me and said, "What will you do with her? Kill her or save her? You have only to nod. Kill her?" For these words alone I would like to pardon his crime.
While
I hesitated, she shrieked and ran into the depths of the grove. The robber
instantly snatched at her, but he failed even to grasp her sleeve.
After
she ran away, he took up my sword, and my bow and arrows. With a single stroke
he cut one of my bonds. I remember his mumbling, "My fate is next."
Then he disappeared from the grove. All was silent after that. No, I heard
someone crying. Untying the rest of my bonds, I listened carefully, and I
noticed that it was my own crying. (Long silence.)
I
raised my exhausted body from the foot of the cedar. In front of me there was
shining the small sword which my wife had dropped. I took it up and stabbed it
into my breast. A bloody lump rose to my mouth, but I didn't feel any pain.
When my breast grew cold, everything was as silent as
the dead in their graves. What profound silence! Not a single bird note was
heard in the sky over this grave in the hollow of the mountains. Only a lonely
light lingered on the cedars and mountains. By and by the light gradually grew
fainter, till the cedars and bamboo were lost to view.
Lying there, I was enveloped in deep silence.
Then
someone crept up to me. I tried to see who it was. But darkness had already
been gathering round me. Someone…that someone drew the small sword softly out
of my breast in its invisible hand. At the same time once more blood flowed
into my mouth. And once and for all I sank down
into the darkness of space.
All images from the movie Rashōmon (Kurusawa, [dir.], 1950).
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