Botchan (1906) is a comic novel whose enduring appeal continues to entertain generations of Japanese readers. It's main character is a newly graduated Tokyo-bred young man sent to teach mathematics at middle school in an out of the way locality. As a young boy, Botchan, as he was fondly called by the household help Kiyo, is destined to be the black sheep of the family. His relationship with his father and brother is civil at best. Kiyo is the only one who was patient with him and who believed he will amount to something great. But Botchan can be a bit foolish as he runs to all kinds of trouble.Another time a distant relative sent me a western pocketknife. I was holding the blade up to the sun to show my friend how nicely it caught the light and he said, "Sure it looks nice, but I bet it can't cut.""Yeah right," I said. "This knife'll cut through anything, I'll show you.""Bet it won't cut through your finger."Well I couldn't let him get away with that so I shouted You bet I will! and sliced through the back of my thumb. Fortunately for me the knife was small, and the bone was hard, so my thumb is still stuck to the side of my hand like it should be. But the scar will be there till I die.The novel's comedy partly derives its laughs from the utter silliness of situations. Botchan himself is a strong character, surprisingly winsome despite (or may be due to) his sarcastic view of things and constant complaints about every little thing. He finds his match, however, with his co-teachers in the school. He finds himself right in the middle of petty politics and bureaucratic maneuverings of his colleagues. Even his students are party to making his life in the country a living hell. His students start to stalk him and to make fun of him by daily writing up, on the blackboard, what he ate the previous night. And when he erupts into anger, it only seems to embolden his students.When you take a joke too far it's not funny anymore. If you burn your bread it's not good anymore, it's just charred—but that was probably too much thinking for these little rednecks. They thought they could keep pushing it. What did they know about the world, living in a Podunk town like this? Growing up on a patch of grass with no charm, no visitors, and no brains, they'd see a guy eat tempura and confuse it for a world war. Pathetic twerps. With an education like this, I could imagine the sort of warped people they'd grow into. If it was all innocent fun I'd laugh along with them. but it wasn't. They may have been kids but their pranks were pregnant with hatred.Botchan becomes the sore subject of endless jokes in school. This inflames him more and more even as he becomes the target of intrigues among his teaching colleagues. A couple of teachers are painted as duplicitous and scheming individuals. "Not a shred of human decency to be found in the whole place!" he cries at one point. To his credit, Botchan (the name can also have derogatory meaning) holds fast to his principles of honesty and simplicity.It's like they believe you can't succeed in society without letting yourself rot to the core. Then they see someone who's honest and pure, and they have to sneer at them and call them Botchan and naive and whatever else they can think of that helps them get to sleep at night. If that's how people are going to be about it then we should stop telling children not to lie. If that's how they're going to be we should give children classes on how to lie and get away with it and how to doubt people and how to take advantage of others and so on.... Red Shirt was laughing because he thought I was simple. Well if we live in a world that laughs at the simple and honest, then I guess I should learn to expect it—but what a world that would be!Natsume Sōseki effectively uses comedy in this otherwise serious critique of the education system run by corrupt leadership. In effect, he seems to be also mocking the shallowness and backwardness of a society that produced, and was perpetuated by, such kind of education. There are also hints of the clash between the rural/traditional mindset of the educators in the community and Botchan's liberal views coming from the open city of Tokyo. The entertainment value of the sometimes slapstick comedy is foil to the societal conflicts in the novel.Another significant aspect in the novel is in providing a glimpse not only to this dire "isolationist" mindset of a provincial school but also the display of nationalism of the local people. Near the end of the book, Botchan witnesses a street parade celebrating Japan's victory over Russia during the war of the previous year.The song went on, the lazy beat drooping like spilled syrup from a tabletop. [The drummer] made abrupt pauses in the beats to help the spectators find the beat, and soon enough though I don't know how they did it, everyone was clapping along. The thirty men started to whip their glinting swords to the beat, faster and faster. It was fascinating and terrifying to watch. They were all crammed so close on the stage that if one of them missed a beat, he'd be sliced to pieces. If they'd just swung the swords up and down there'd be no real danger, but there were times [when] they turned left and right, spun in circles, dropped to their knees. I half expected noses and ears to go flying. They all had control over their swords, but were swiping and flipping them in a space of two feet—all while crouching, ducking, spinning, and twirling.The fascinating parade scene may be offering a glimpse into Japanese militarism in the early years of the twentieth century. Indeed there's a large gap between the discipline exhibited by the students in this street dance and the pettiness they are prone to in school.In the afterword, translator Glenn Anderson admits that certain passages in the novel are omitted or altered in the interest of "readability and accessibility". The translation decisions to domesticate the novel are explained in the afterword itself. The resulting text appears to be an idiomatic novel that retains the comedy while making it sound contemporary. This is evident in the nicknames Botchan gave to his co-teachers. The novel itself has been translated five times already. (Here's a review comparing the translations of the first passage quoted above.) The present translation is highly readable, spunky, and fun, though I'm a little bit bothered by some typographical errors.Review copy courtesy of the publisher.
This was a somewhat strange deviation from a lot of the Japanese Lit I've read. This is particularly interesting given the time period which this was released, as most of the literature-literature (that is to say, Fiction Novels as opposed to fairy tales, poetry, religious/spiritual/political manifestos, etc) which I have read have been, for the most part, from decades after the release of Botchan. Originally published in the early 20th Century, it goes without saying that this novel came from a very different Japan than we see today, though the style, storyline, and narrator-as-character are distinctly Western-sounding in many ways. Out of surprise-fueled curiosity (I was, after all, expecting a more 'traditionally Japanese' novel, whatever the hell that narrow statement is supposed to mean), I poked around on the web a bit and discovered that, at the point when he composed this novel, Sōseki had quite recently returned from pursuing studies in England. Breathing a sigh of relief at this insight which eased my mind that I was not--or at least mostly not--projecting my own cultural background on a work and thereby downgrading or disrespecting it somehow, I began to reconsider what I had just read from within the context of a potential Western influence/critique.The main character, first of all, is a very Dennis-the-Menace-y type of fellow. No, that's not right. Ignatius Reilly? No, not that pretentious, disgusting or lacking in self-awareness (though certainly the latter, to a large extent). I'm not making myself clear. New approach: basically, this 1900's Tokyoite goes to a small, highly traditional village in order to teach mathematics. He has always been a pest, always the troublemaker, half-assed and wise-mouthed to his parents, sibling, and peers, willful and arrogant despite his clear lack of knowledge on most matters, quick to anger, just as quick to lash out, sharp-tongued, obnoxious, indignant; extremely self-involved, basically...so much so he very quickly begins to look like a cartoon.I have this friend named Zach who I call Buster all the time because he is clumsy to an absurd extent. I have even seen him, shit you not, step on the prongs of a rake lying on the ground in such a way that the handle of the rake shot up and hit him square in the forehead. I spat the sip of drink in my mouth directly into the firepit in front of me and choked up a bit, it was so ridiculously cartoonish and seemingly improbable. That's only something that happens in old slapstick movies, right? Turns out, nope. This is sort of how bumbling this character often is. I could just imagine the action sped up and in scratchy black and white film while crackling megaphone music played as our narrator literally egged people and desperately swatted at a bed full of hundreds of bugs, crouched in the shadows in his nightgown all night being eaten alive by mosquitoes until his face tripled in size solely so that he could grab a couple of students who had punked him, and give them a good lecture. Of course, he is an awkward, stuttery public speaker and cannot properly defend himself ever, and so the joke continues to pile on him, incident after incident, as he becomes increasingly insolent and ostracized in this small, humble town which is so far removed from his background of big-city-livin'. He is constantly mocked for his appetites, and feels personal insult in the idea that kids would not be the sole ones punished for their poor behavior, as this behavior clearly reflects on the instructor in charge being, perhaps, a poor sensei indeed. Basically, the old and the new, the frictions of traditional ways and modernization are encompassed head-on in this stubborn, stumbling character. He is definitely an ass, but as the story moves along, we begin to see a few bits of benefit leached from Botchan's ways. However, if I go into that in any more detail, I will ruin the book for you. I am curious, however, if Sōseki's silly-headed character was his take on the West after his time in England? That maybe a lot of Westerners seemed gluttonous and profoundly lacking in self-awareness and just plain too much, and this was his ode to them, for better or for worse? Maybe so, maybe not. Anyone who has read this and wants to throw two cents my way is more than welcome.The closest novel I've read which I could compare this to would be Naomi, though Tanizaki's novel was released two decades later. Still, it has the same pre-World War II influence of Western aesthetics and attitudes encompassed in its pages, the same sly humor mixed with uncomfortable emotional displays and general social disconnect, examining the extravagances of the left-most sides of the map as they met the more humble and reserved traditions of Japanese culture which were in so many ways losing their footing in post-Shogun Japan. A strange and brief time, which this novel manages to encompass in a very simple story of the middle school antics of a city-slicker teacher in a teeny-weeny seaside town. It was pretty good, and I'm sure quite groundbreaking at the time. However, I couldn't get that silly old black and white reel of coordinated comic imagery out of my head. Needless to say, it's distracting reading a novel and picturing it like that, all circus-y and potshot. His relationship with his maid was really sweet, though. You know, once he came around a little, the silly bastard.
Do You like book Botchan (2007)?
¡Fantástico! Botchan (en japonés "niño mimado") que algunos llaman "El guardián entre el centeno" japonés, describe la historia de un joven graduado universitario que acepta un puesto de profesor en un colegio de una provincia rural que dista mucho del Tokio que está acostumbrado. Nada más llegar la clase le hará la vida imposible al profesor nuevo, pero es que el resto de profesores (cada uno con su mote) también van a dar juego...Tengo que decir que con este libro me he reído demasiado. Leyéndolo por la noche he soltado carcajadas a boca abierta que podrían haber despertado a mi familia. Y es que me ha gustado mucho Botchan, el protagonista. Es una persona muy simple y directa, hace lo que piensa. Pero además tiene claros cuales son sus valores y sabe defenderse de quienes se quieren aprovechar de él. Porque le pasa cada cosa... Me encanta el momento en el que le pone motes a cada profesor y ya sigue llamándoles así: Calabaza, Bufón, Puercoespín... Así no te pierdes con los personajes y de paso te ríes un rato.Botchan es una historia breve que no cansará a nadie. Yo me he quedado con ganas de más, pero su intención era clara: mostrar la personalidad de Botchan en un entorno casi hostil, pero sin perder el humor.Es una pena que aquí autores como Soseki no sean tan conocidos. Estoy encantado con esta lectura y repetiré. ¿Por qué no lo probáis? La risa está garantizada.
—Luis
لا أعرف ماذا أقول ؟ لشخص قرأ كوكورو و توقع شيئاً مشابهاً في بوتشان فقد تفاجئت بقدرة ناتسومي على خلقِ عملين متناقضين ومختلفين في نواحِ عدة ، أحببت الأول كثيراً و أعجبني الثاني لبساطته ، التفاصيل الصغيرة و السرد الممتع جعلا تسلل الملل إليّ مستحيلاً ، الحكاية ببساطة عن الـ "بوتشان" الذي ما إن حصل على شهادته الجامعية في طوكيو حتى عُرِض عليه العمل كمعلم رياضيات في منطقة بعيداً جداً عن عاصمته التي يقدسها ، وهناك نتابع حياته ومواقفه مع السكان و الطلاب و طاقم المدرسة الذين لا يبدوا أن أياً منهم قد حظي بإعجابه ، و لذلك لا يدخر جهداً في التعبير عن كل ما يزعجه ، يبدوا كثيراً كرجل انطوائي ناضج لا يحب إقحام نفسه في أي من العلاقات ، لكن ما إن يتحدّث حتى يصير إلى الـ بوتشان الشقي ، العنيف ، و العنيد جداً ، لا أعرف عدد المرات التي ضحكت فيها لتعليقاته و تصرفاته السخيفة و الساخرة ، هذه السنة قرأت أربع أعمال يابانية ، و لا أدري إن كنت أستطيع الحكم الآن و لكن بشكل عام أحببت البساطة ، الواقعية ، الأجواء التي تضعني حقاً في تلك الحقبة و المكان ، و بالطبع أهم شيء هو عدم وجود تفاصيل أو حشو صفحات بلا فائدة ، و حتى الآن لا يبدوا أن الأدب الياباني يخطط لتخييب آمالي ، على الأقل هذا ما أتمنى ، بوتشان عمل ممتع و لطيف يستحق بالتأكيد القراءة.
—Shoroug
”Now that I thought about it, though, I realized that most people actually encourage you to turn bad. They seem to think that if you don't, you'll never get anywhere in the world. And then on those rare occasions when they encounter somebody who's honest and pure-hearted, they look down on him and say he's nothing but a kid, a Botchan. If that's the way it is, it would be better if they didn't have those ethics classes in elementary school and middle school where the teacher is always telling you to be honest and not lie. The schools might as well just go ahead and teach you how to tell lies, how to mistrust everybody, and how to take advantage of people. Wouldn't their students, and the world at large, be better off that way?” Natsume Soseki, the author of this work, was so revered in Japan his face appeared on the 1000 Yen currency.Botchan has grown up under the protective wing of a family servant named Kiyo. She is a fallen aristocrat who pins her hopes on Botchan making something of himself so she can continue to be his servant until she dies. She certainly has an exaggerated sense of Botchan’s character, but because she considers him her son we can forgive her having such misconceptions. He goes to the University of Tokyo of Physics and emerges with a degree in math, not because he likes math, but because he could pass the classes. Like a lot of young people he had no idea of what he wants to do, but I do have to give him credit for at least doing something while he was trying to figure out what to do. He believes his best characteristics are common sense and a good grounding in morals, but they are somewhat offset by being impulsive, judgemental, and naive. Botchan accepts a job teaching in the countryside far away from Tokyo. The adjustment is difficult mainly because he loses the fawning presence of Kiyo and he quickly alienates most of his coworkers by being condescending and overly critical of them. The same alienation occurs with the students who stalk him through the village and make fun of his eating habits. He likes to eat...a lot. Botchan didn’t want to be a teacher. He was an indifferent student and became an indifferent teacher. I’m alarmed at the number of teachers I meet that never liked school, but fell into teaching for lack of other options. Most of our teachers in the United States come from the bottom third of graduates. I found some data from 2001, but more recent polling shows that the percentages from each third have not changed significantly. The breakdown for these graduates who became teachers is as follows: 23 percent came from the “top third;” 47 percent from the “bottom third;” and 29 percent from the “middle third.” In most European countries teachers come from the top third of graduates. That makes more sense to me. Part of our problem in the States people from the top third of graduates discover they can make much more money in the private sector with a smaller work load than they can teaching. In Europe teachers are among some of the best paid people in the country. That makes sense to me as well. I digress, but this trend has been of concern to me and Botchan would probably fall into that bottom third category. Botchan gives his colleagues nicknames. The principal becomes The Badger. The assistant principal is Red Shirt. There is also Porcupine, Hanger On, and The Squash face. Giving nicknames is a form of silent rebellion and makes him feel superior to most everyone in the echoing halls of his own head. There is a woman named Madonna, a beautiful woman that even the indifferent Botchan takes notice of. ”I’m not any good at describing what makes a woman gorgeous, so I won’t try, but this one was definitely absolutely gorgeous. Somehow just looking at her made me feel like I was cradling a ball of crystal that had been warmed in perfume in my palm.”The Madonna causes friction between the academics as they vie for her attention. It reminds me of when I was at the University of Arizona taking classes in the English department. Edward Abbey had been teaching there during part of my time there. I could never get into his class which was generally loaded with graduate students. Abbey’s wife was “allegedly” sleeping with several teachers in the department. One was the highest paid member of the staff due to his ability to publish and the other was an ex-Jesuit monk. During one famous faculty meeting they came to blows. My money was on the Jesuit. It was difficult sitting in class looking at this notorious black eye at the front of the room and not laughing over the source of that injury. The longer Botchan teaches his pride becomes more and more battered from a barrage of disappointments. His predetermined idea of how the universe is supposed to work becomes more cynical. ”People operate on their likes and dislikes, not on logic.” Natsume SosekiThis book is one of the best selling, best loved books of all time in Japan. It was published in 1906, but continues to be a source of amusement for new generations of Japanese readers. It is certainly a study in morality about the struggles between people with differing views of what living an honorable life means. Botchan is sure that his view of the universe is the correct one and those that interpret things different receive his disdain. It is excusable in a 22 year old and my hope is in the pages beyond this book that were never written that he learns more tolerance for the fallacies of others. My interest level increased the deeper I advanced in the book. I went from not really caring for Botchan to actually starting to understand him and even began to root for him. This is an early work by Natsume Soseki and I am very curious to read his later, more mature work.
—Jeffrey Keeten
