To begin ...

As the twentieth century fades out
the nineteenth begins
.......................................again
it is as if nothing happened
though those who lived it thought
that everything was happening
enough to name a world for & a time
to hold it in your hand
unlimited.......the last delusion
like the perfect mask of death

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Inagaki Taruho: A Range of Stories from “ 1001 Second Stories”




Translation from Japanese by Jeffrey Angles

[translator’s note.  Inagaki Taruho (1900-1977) was a real modernist dandy who started writing wild, experimental, whimsical stories in the 1920s that blur the boundaries of prose and poetry.   Although Taruho did not write what one traditionally thinks about when one imagines "poetry," his short-short stories are sometimes classified as poetry. His most famous collection is called 1001 Second Stories, which is a collection of funny, little contes that describe the surreal hijinks one might find in the earliest animation that was, not coincidentally, being produced right around the same time. (J.A.)]

The Man in the Moon

            I was listening to the strains of a guitar leaking through a yellow window in a painting of a night landscape      when I heard a spring pop loose in a clock      and a huge automatized diorama of Mr. Moon began to rise in the distance
            It stopped about one meter above the ground      and a man wearing an opera hat       jumped nimbly down     Whoa!      As I was watching       he lit a cigarette      and started down the street-lined street      I followed him       The trees cast such interesting silhouettes on the street      that all of my attention was taken up by the shadows      when I realized the man walking right of me had vanished      I pricked up my ears      but I didn’t hear anything remotely resembling the sound of someone’s footsteps      I came back to the place where I had started      and discovered that the moon had at some point risen high in the sky      and the pinwheels were flitting as they spun in the quiet nighttime breeze 

Eavesdropping in the Shadows of a Warehouse One Night

            “Mr. Moon’s out tonight”
            “That guy’s made of tin”
            “What?     Made of tin you say?”
            “Well mister      I guarantee he’s nickel-plated at the very least”
            (That was all I overheard)

Une mémoire

            A gentle spring moon was hanging in the middle of the sky       The forests and hills and rivers were misty and blue       and off the distance the backbone of a rocky mountain glittered faintly
            The moonlight rained silently down upon the entire scene       From far, far off in the distance came the sounds of a flute       Ton-koro-piii-piii       It seemed so forlorn       so filled with nostalgia       The sound was so faint       that it was hard to know if one was really hearing it or not       I pricked up my ears       It seemed someone was singing       The voice seemed full of blame       full of grief       but I had no idea what it was saying
            Ton-koro-piii… piii….
            The notes of the flute      made the moonlight come raining down all the more
            And then       from somewhere I heard a voice whisper       “It was probably       on a night like this…”
            Surprised I asked back       “Huh?        What are you talking about?”
            But there was no response       For a while the moonlight simply continued to rain down       as if nothing had happened
            But then       I heard the whisper again       coming from nowhere in particular       This time it sounded a little peeved       as if it were giving up       as if it were sad
            “It was probably       on a night like this…”
            Flustered        I piped up again       “Huh? What happened?”
            But the voice made no attempt to answer
            Silence
            I noticed a rock by my shoe and picked it up       but before I could hurl it into the distance      I let it fall from my hand       as if I were overcome with disappointment
            Under the blue moonlit sky       the mountains hills and forests were as misty as a dream
            Ton-koro-pii… pii…

Un énigme

            ——onamoonliteveningabutterflyturnedintoadragonfly
            ——Huh?
            ——didthedragonflyblowitsnose?
            ——What’s that again?
            ——didyoucatchafishintissuepaper?
            ——What? What’re you saying?
            ——thereisvalueinnotunderstanding 

Une chanson d’enfants

            Full of Mr. Moon
            Full of the light of Mr. Moon
            So full so full of the light of Mr. Moon…

C’est rien d’autre que ça

            According to Mr. A it’s really quite serious      How should I put it?      It’s really quite astounding      That’s it in a nutshell

The Time I Cut Off a Black Cat’s Tail

            One evening      I caught a black cat and cut its tail off with sheers      Snip!      It turned into a puff of yellow smoke      and overhead I heard a voice cry out in pain!     I opened the window      and saw a comet missing its tail escape

The Time I Stopped the Rain with a Bullet

            When I opened the window it was still raining      I put the bullets in my pistol      took aim at the center of the pitch-black sky and pulled the trigger      I heard a scream      and immediately the Stars and Stripes unfurled overhead and began to flutter

Moonlight Moonshiners

            One night      not long before dawn      I heard some voices on the balcony      I peeked through the keyhole      and saw two or three dark shadows turning some sort of machine      Earlier I had noticed an article in the newspaper about a gang who snuck onto people’s balconies      in the middle of the night when the moon was high      and used a certain secret contraption recently invented in London      to make moonshine out of moonlight       I put my automatic pistol against the keyhole and shot      POW, POW, POW, POW, POW…      The bullets struck the roofs and the road below the balcony and I heard the sound of breaking glass
            I opened the door thinking I would jump out onto the balcony      when something rushed in like a gust of wind beside me      It blew me off my feet      When I regained my composure and went onto the balcony      there was no one there      A single bottle was perched at the edge of the roof      so I picked it up and held it to the light      There was something that looked like water inside      I tried shaking it and the cork popped off all on its own      POP!      The sound resonated through the still night air      A great deal of vapor rose from the mouth of the bottle      and right before my eyes it melted away to become part of the moonlight…
            I kept watching until everything in the bottle was gone      And that was all      other than the fact that the moon seemed a bit paler than usual

The Time I Lost Myself

            Last night      when I hopped off the streetcar in front of the Metropolitan      I dropped myself
            I still remember lighting my cigarette in front of a movie poster      jumping onto the streetcar as it turned the corner      watching the twinkling lamps and the crowds from the window      and inhaling the perfume of the lady seated across the aisle      All of these things and more are still clear in my memory      but when I hopped off the streetcar I realized      I was no longer there 

Did You Really Make it to the Moon?

            A’s question:
            Did you really make it to the moon?
            B’s answer:
            What?      Are you crazy?

The Men Who Raised the Moon

            Late one evening I was leaning on a bench in the park      when I heard some voices in the trees behind me
            “You’re late”
            “Let’s do this as quick as we can”
            I heard the clank-clank of a pulley      and a reddish moon rose in the east
            “OK!”
            And with that the moon stopped      I heard the sound of gears turning      and the moon began to slowly move      I dashed into the trees      but the only thing on the sandy path was the falling moonlight      and the only sound was that of the treetops stirring in the nighttime breeze

The Moonman

            The moon had risen over a nightscape worthy of a Hofmannsthal poem when a man popped out of the moon      and started walking around the hills      the ponds      and the tree-lined boulevards      before going back into the moon      which had traced a large arc overhead as it descended      Right then I heard a slam!      I had also just come back from a stroll and shut the door behind me      and that was when I realized the moonman was really me


The Black Comet Club

            No one was sure who had suggested establishing it or when      but within two or three months it had become a terrific club      and although nothing specific really went wrong      after two or three more months it had disbanded
            Upon further investigation      it was revealed that the club was the work of a black comet that had passed through the vicinity of earth right at the same time      As the comet approached      the club grew      and as the comet retreated      the club died away      And that is why it came to be known as THE BLACK COMET CLUB

The Time My Friend Turned into Mr. Moon

            One night      I was taking a walk with a friend      and badmouthing Mr. Moon      My friend was entirely silent       so I asked      “Say      don’t you agree with me?”
            I turned sideways to look at him      and saw that he was Mr. Moon      I took to my heels to get away but Mr. Moon chased after me      He pushed me down as I was turning a corner      then he tripped over me and left       while I lay flat as a board on the asphalt
            I was still lying there      when Professor Keine quickly asserted this theory about my late-night misfortunes
            “Whatever you might say about this      one must conclude that the moon was triangular      The reason is simple      after he tripped and left      he left behind these marks”
            Before continuing      the professor pointed out a series of marks left by sharp corners that had dug into the asphalt
            “The triangle was spinning at an incredible speed      so fast he probably appeared round to you”
            As the professor explained this to the people around me      he lifted me off the sidewalk       but it wasn’t me at all      only the cardboard cut-out of a human being

The Person who Spoke as if He Had Seen It Firsthand

            “Do you think that the moon      the stars      and all those other things really exist?”      A certain person asked me one night
            I nodded      “Sure I do”
            “You’ve been tricked      the heavens are really black cardboard      and the moon and stars are just tin knick-knacks someone has pasted up there”
            I asked      “Then how do you account for their movement?”
            “You see      that’s the trick      it’s all mechanical”
            Having said that he burst into peals of laughter      and I realized that no one was there      My goodness!” I thought      As I looked up I saw a rope ladder sliding up into the starry heavens

Le braquer

            One evening      I was crossing an intersection      when Mr. Moon abruptly shoved a pistol into my side
            When I put my hands in the air      Mr. Moon fished around in the bottom of my pocket       pulled out a gold coin and went on his way      Earlier in the evening I had seen that same gold coin stuck to the top of a tower on the roof of a department store      and I had gone to great pains to get up there and pull it off      Of course, the gold coin was none other than Mr. Moon himself

La cérémonie de mariage

            The yellow moon had risen into the highest branches of the fir tree      when a constant stream of automobiles and horse-drawn carriages started circling the lawn      then stopped at the front entrance which had been decorated with garlands of flowers
            In the grand hall brightly illuminated by gas lamps      a waiter wearing a gold-threaded embroidered jacket was bustling about      Meanwhile slender shoes decorated with white ribbons      and enameled shoes that had been shined until they sparkled      moved over the linoleum which was as reflective as a mirror     
            Eventually a silver bell rang      and from the shade of a palm tree      appeared a young duke and his doll-like bride
            A man in black read some sacred verses
            The young duke took his bride’s hand and
            POOF!
            She disappeared
            And a shriveled up rubber balloon fell to the floor

The Man Who Looked Just Like Me

            One evening when the stars and crescent moon were suspended in the sky with string      I walked down a narrow road lined with poplar trees      until I reached the end      There I found the perfectly square house of someone who looked just like me
            It was a dead ringer for my house       Thinking how strange it was I tried the front door      I went up to the second story like I owned the place      and sat back in a chair     There I found someone else there reading a book with his back to me
            Bon soir!”      My loud greeting surprised him       He stood up and turned around to look      and lo and behold      we were one and the same person 

Why I Sobered Up

            One night      I was walking along singing a song      when I fell into a well
            HELP!  HELP! I cried out      Someone lowered a rope to me      and I crawled out of the mouth of the bottle of brandy I’d just finished drinking      and that had been dangling from my hand

The Black Box

            One evening the pale moonlight was flowing down through the city streets      when a gentleman burst into Sherlock Holmes’ office to see him
            “I want you to open this”      he said
            He held a small but strong black box      covered with seemingly significant jewels in the shape of an arabesque      Holmes pulled out a ring of keys and tried them one by one      but none of them fit      Holmes took out a second ring of keys      but to no avail      What do you think he did next?      Take out another set of keys      or use some other tool?      I don’t really know      but in any case around 1:30 in the morning      the little box sprung open
            “What the heck?      It’s empty”      said Holmes
            The gentlemen responded      “That’s right      nothing in it at all”

How Three Saturns Were Formed

            Rumor had it that Saturn had gone to drink at the bar on the corner      so I went to go look      but only found a plain old human being     Let me explain how that guy turned into Saturn      It was because he had a habit of talking big and running circles around people with his stories      I told him the guy who had blown things out of proportion and was talking circles around people      was the real Saturn      He was the one who made up the story that Saturn would be coming            But then the man at the bar responded       You’re the one who is Saturn      since you tried to make a joke by talking circles around such a boring story      and blowing the whole thing out of proportion

Why Did He Take Up Smoking?

            One young man said      “Mr. Moon is triangular”
            To which a boy asked      “What do you mean?”
            “If you blow a smoke ring like this and look through it      Mr. Moon is unmistakably shaped like a triangle”      With this answer      the young man took a long drag on the cigarette in his fingertips      and—puff, puff—blew a couple of smoke rings from his mouth      The pale bluish light of the moon flowed down into them      There was no one else in the room to disturb them      They flipped the switch to turn off the lamp on the table      and the young man blew several more white fluffy rings into the air      The pale moonlight headed in their direction disappeared into the rings as if it was being sucked in       Meanwhile the young man looked through the rings at the moon      then he blew another so he could look again      He kept this up       and before long the moon began to look more and more triangular to him      According to the young man’s logic      it didn’t really matter much      if the moon looked like a triangle or not      Blowing smoke rings toward the moonlight in a darkened room and the moon being a triangle     were one and the same thing      Did the boy actually believe this could happen in real life or even in theory?      I don’t really have the answer      because I’m not the young man in question—but in any case      the young man smoked five cigarettes one after the other      so that he could blow smoke rings to show the boy      but the all of those experiments ended in failure      The next day the young man put a small cardboard box inside his pocket      and went to a deserted place so he could practice blowing smoke rings      Three months went by with the moon coming out every night      but by that time the boy had become a smoker who carried a silver cigarette case where ever he went      Finally the boy understood      I heard about it directly from his own lips      No doubt he was able to blow perfect smoke rings by that point     But how did that affect the way that he saw the moon?      I haven’t heard anything about that aspect of the story      I don’t really have to ask though      The real question for both me and the young man was “Why did he pick up smoking?”      After all, we’re the type of people who are naturally curious about such things and nothing else

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