47 pages • 1 hour read
Natsume SōsekiA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
In a novel depicting the last days of the Meiji Restoration in Japan, Emperor Meiji is more than just a man. He embodies the historical moment to such an extent that his life and death give this period in Japanese history its name. The Meiji era involved the move away from traditional, rural practices toward a more urbanized and modern period in Japan. This transition between The City and the Countryside is explored in the novel at a moment when men like the narrator were leaving the old countryside behind in favor of the new and exciting city, just as Sensei did before. As the reigning monarch, the Emperor embodies the nation’s culture and ideals as much as any individual possibly could. As such, his death is symbolically significant in that a new person will be appointed as the nation’s figurehead, and with the change in individual comes a change in ideals.
The characters’ relationship with the Emperor symbolizes the desire to emotionally connect with significant cultural figures. The narrator’s father becomes ill, and as he lays dying, he is desperate to relate his experiences to those of the dying Emperor. This act of frantic empathy illustrates the irrelevance of the narrator’s father; while he dies in a rural backwater and is destined to be forgotten, the Emperor is dying in a palace, surrounded by doting servants who are ready to write every moment of his life into the history books. Their life experiences are so vastly different as to be almost incomparable, even if their deaths share similar symptoms. The difference in the narrator’s and his father’s reactions to the Emperor’s death signifies the changing shape of Japanese society. While the narrator’s father is desperate to forge some kind of connection between himself and the distant ruler, the narrator is apathetic about the royal death. The older generation feels a need to connect themselves to the man who has embodied the era, while the newer generation—those who are about to inherit the changing society—seem disconnected from the change.
Not even Sensei is immune to this generational difference. Seen through the narrator’s eyes, Sensei is a cynical man who is not afraid to criticize Japanese society’s cultural and historical institutions. While the narrator is indifferent to the Emperor’s death, Sensei recognizes the historical importance of the moment. He recognizes the Emperor as a symbol of the changes in Japanese society, so his death is another auspicious encouragement in his decision to die by suicide. Sensei may not feel the desire to liken himself to the Emperor, nor does he show any particular fondness for the dying man. However, he recognizes the symbolic value of the moment. Instead, he empathizes with General Nogi, who died by ritual suicide in the wake of the Emperor’s death as a way to atone for his past mistakes. In Nogi’s suicide, Sensei recognizes himself and plots a course for his future. He is Nogi, and K is the Emperor; only by passing away in solidarity with a wronged party does Sensei believe that he is able to atone for his failures.
Letters and telegrams are two forms of communication that symbolize the contrast between the old and new worlds. Letters are slow and cumbersome, taking time to compose and then even longer to reach the intended recipient. However, they are capable of far greater depth, as they contain far more words. Telegrams are a relatively new invention and symbolize the changing nature of Japanese society. Letters are the old society, and telegrams are the new society; they reach their recipients much faster, but they lack the depth and tradition of older forms of communication.
The characters in the novel are still adjusting to the changing society. They send telegrams in emergencies, such as the death of a family member, but occasionally they note that a letter will follow to allow for greater explanation. As much as their differences symbolize contrasts in changing Japanese society, the fundamental similarities of telegrams and letters represent an inherent human desire to communicate; they simply provide different ways to do so. While society itself may change and the finer details of communication forms may evolve, the human desire for connection remains the same.
Letters and telegrams are also symbolic in their absence. While characters react most obviously to the arrival of a letter or a telegram, they feel the pain of waiting just as much. The narrator arrives at his parents’ house and immediately tries to contact his friends. The letters he sends—and particularly the one to Sensei—are not answered right away. While waiting for these letters to arrive, the narrator is unable to act. He cannot write again, and he cannot distract himself; he must simply wait and worry, thinking about whether the letter is on its way or whether his friends have simply chosen not to respond. This absence has an important symbolic meaning, signifying how Unspoken Words can be just as relevant as the words that are actually shared. A letter’s absence reinforces the narrator’s isolation in a physical and a figurative sense, reminding him of how he is stuck out in the countryside, away from the city, and how much he is emotionally removed from family members with whom he has nothing in common.
The narrator waits a long time to hear anything from Sensei, and then three communications arrive in quick succession: two telegrams and a letter. In the two telegrams, Sensei contradicts himself, and he promises to send a letter when he can to explain the situation. This contrast reiterates the differences in depth and speed available between the two formats; Sensei’s dependence on the depth of the letter symbolically categorizes him as a figure of the past, dependent on traditional forms of communication to make sure that his words are understood. When the letter finally arrives, its sheer size is a foreboding symbol. The narrator immediately feels that something is wrong. The heavy letter is a literal and symbolic burden, in which Sensei confesses to his past mistakes but entrusts the narrator with his future. He tells the narrator to do what he wants with the story contained within the letter, turning the letter into a symbol of responsibility for the way Sensei will be remembered.
When the narrator first visits Sensei in Tokyo, he is told that he can find the older man at a graveyard. They walk through the graveyard together, and the narrator becomes increasingly intrigued by Sensei’s idiosyncratic views of the world. To him, the older man’s mysterious fondness for quiet walks through a graveyard is just another way in which he rejects social expectations. He tries to empathize with Sensei, describing the beauty of the graveyard and praising it as an aesthetically pleasing environment rather than just somewhere associated with death and loss. This framing symbolizes the narrator’s quest to understand his newfound mentor; he is grasping at anything that might help explain Sensei’s actions. He is determined to distinguish Sensei from all the other people who visit the graveyard because the narrator wants Sensei to be unique and idiosyncratic.
The narrator’s perspective on the graveyard as a symbol of Sensei’s uniqueness is altered slightly when he meets Shizu. When the narrator and Shizu become better acquainted, they talk about Sensei’s reasons for visiting the graveyard. She hints at some great loss in her husband’s life but refuses to divulge any further information. To her, the graveyard is not a symbol of loss but of isolation. She wants to understand her husband, but he refuses to share his emotions with her. He is not so much idiosyncratic as he is alienated. Shizu views the graveyard as a bleak reminder of how she may never truly understand her husband. She is not allowed into his private, emotional world, just as she is not allowed to visit the graveyard with him. He denies her this entry in a symbolic and a physical sense, turning the graveyard into an unavoidable metaphorical barrier between husband and wife.
In his letter, Sensei reveals the graveyard’s true meaning: He goes there because he is visiting the grave of his friend K. To Sensei, K is everything the narrator believes Sensei to be. K legitimately appreciated the graveyard as an aesthetically pleasing environment, whereas Sensei is bound to the graveyard for traditional feelings of loss and grief. Rather than an aggressive refusal to engage with his wife, Sensei’s decision to keep Shizu away from the graveyard is an act of shame. For Sensei, the graveyard represents K, and he is able to spend time alone in the graveyard reflecting on his pain, grief, and guilt. The graveyard is the place where he must be alone, not where he wants to be alone, because he does not let anyone into the truth until the very end of his life. The fact that the narrator is briefly allowed to join Sensei in this most private of places foreshadows how the secret will finally be shared, by which time Sensei will be in the graveyard himself. In this way, the graveyard becomes the symbol of ultimate truth, in which the characters learn about reality and are burdened by this knowledge.