Beauty and Sadness

by Yasunari Kawabata

  “All it means?” He echoed her words vacantly. “In time even tombstones change.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “It’s true there comes a time when a tombstone loses its meaning.”

  “What?”

  “You’re too close.” Now his lips were almost touching her ear.

  “Don’t! You’re tickling.” Keiko rubbed her head against his chest and looked up at him out of the corners of her eyes. “You shouldn’t tickle me with your breath like that. I hate men who tease.”

  “I’m not teasing.”

  On the verge of laughter, he realized for the first time that his arms were around her, supporting her as she lay there across his lap. He was conscious of the weight of her body, and yet of a buoyant softness to it.

  Keiko’s long kimono sleeves had slipped back, and her bare arms were still around his neck. Suddenly he was also conscious of the cool touch of her smooth, moist skin.

  “Teasing your pretty ear, am I?” He tried to calm his breathing.

  “I’m sensitive, there,” she whispered.

  Her ears were tempting. Taichiro fingered them gently. She kept her eyes wide open and did not move.

  “Like mysterious flowers,” he said, toying with her ears.

  “Are they?”

  “Can you hear anything?”

  “Of course. Something like—–”

  “Like what?”

  “I wonder. Like a bee hovering in a flower … or maybe a butterfly.”

  “It’s because I’m touching them.”

  “Do you enjoy touching a woman’s ears?”

  His hands froze.

  “Do you?” she repeated softly.

  “I’ve never seen such beautiful ones,” he said at last.

  “I like to clean out people’s ears for them,” said Keiko. “Odd, isn’t it? I’ve become quite an expert. Shall I do it for you some time?”

  Taichiro did not answer.

  “There isn’t a breath of air,” she went on.

  “No, only a sunlit world.”

  “I’ll always remember being in your arms in front of an old tomb on a morning like this. It seems strange for a tomb to create a memory.”

  “But they’re built for memories, aren’t they?”

  “I’m sure your memory of this morning will soon vanish.” She made an effort to lift herself from his lap. “It’s too painful!”

  “Why do you think I won’t remember?”

  “It’s too painful for me, being like this!”

  As she tried to free herself Taichiro held her closer. He brushed his lips against hers.

  “No, no!”

  He was startled by her fierce refusal. As if to hide her lips, she pressed her face tight against his chest. He ran his hand over her hair, around to her forehead, and tried to tilt back her face. She resisted.

  “You’re hurting my eye!” she exclaimed, yielding. Her eyes were closed.

  “Which one?”

  “The right.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “I think so. Don’t you see tears?”

  There was no sign of irritation on the eyelid. Bending down automatically, he kissed her eye.

  Keiko sighed but did not resist.

  He could feel her long lashes between his lips. Suddenly uneasy, he drew back. “You don’t mind? Though you won’t let me kiss your mouth?”

  “I don’t know! How can you talk like that?” She scrambled to her feet, almost knocking him over. Her white handbag was on the ground. Taichiro picked it up, rose, and gave it to her.

  “Your bag seems awfully large.”

  “I have a bathing suit in it.”

  “A bathing suit?”

  “You promised to go to Lake Biwa, you know.” Keiko took out a mirror and peered at her right eye, and rubbed the eyelid. Noticing his steady gaze, she flushed and looked down with bewitching shyness. For a moment she ran her fingertips over his white shirt, where there was a trace of her lipstick.

  “What shall we do?” he said, taking her hand.

  “I’m sorry, it won’t come off.”

  “I’m not worried about my shirt. I mean, what shall we do now?”

  “I don’t know!” Keiko tilted her head. “I haven’t the least idea.”

  “We can go to the lake this afternoon, can’t we?”

  “What time is it?”

  “A quarter to ten.”

  “So early? The way the sunlight filters down, it looks like noon.” Keiko glanced around through the trees. “That must be Mt. Arashi over there. I should think people would come here in the summer too.”

  “Even if they visit the temple they’re not likely to climb this far.” He mopped his face with a handkerchief, feeling somewhat relieved to be talking casually with her again. “Would you like to see where they say the Pavilion of the Autumn Rain used to be? I’ve been here two or three times before, but I’ve never gone all the way up.”

  A wooden guidepost pointing toward the site stood at the base of the slope behind them.

  “Are we climbing some more?” She looked up the mountain. “I don’t care how high it is. If it’s hard walking, I can go barefoot.”

  The path threaded upward through dense woods. Taichiro heard the twigs brushing her kimono, and turned to take her hand.

  Soon they came to a fork in the path.

  “Probably we should go to the left,” he said, hesitating. “It looks a bit dangerous.” The path ran along the edge of a cliff.

  “I’m afraid I’d slip,” said Keiko, clinging to his arm. “Let’s take the one to the right.”

  “We might as well. It seems to go to the top of the mountain.”

  This branch of the path was almost hidden by low trees. Taichiro let Keiko lead him along it, but suddenly she stopped. “Do I have to go through a thicket, dressed like this?”

  Beyond them stood three tall pines. Through the pines they could see the Northern Hills and, below, the outskirts of the city. “I wonder where that could be,” said Taichiro, as Keiko leaned against him.

  “I have no idea.” Slowly she slumped over into his arms. He staggered, and let himself be borne to the ground under her weight. As they lay there together she reached down and smoothed her skirt.

  When he moved his lips toward her eyes Keiko merely closed her eyelids. Even when he kissed her on the mouth she made no attempt to avoid him. But she kept her lips tightly pressed together.

  Taichiro caressed her slender young neck and began to slip his hand under her kimono.

  “Don’t do that!” Keiko clutched his hand in hers. Then he slid his palm down over her kimono against the swell of her right breast, his hand still covered by both of hers, but she guided it across to the other breast. She opened her eyes narrowly and looked up at him. “You mustn’t touch the right one. I don’t like it.”

  “Oh?” Mystified, he let his hand fall from her left breast.

  Keiko’s eyes were still narrowed. “The right one makes me feel sad.”

  “Sad?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because my heart isn’t on that side.” She closed her eyes shyly and nestled closer, her left breast against him. “Maybe there’s something defective about a girl’s body. Even losing that defect may make her feel sad.”

  Taichiro felt an appealing stimulation when she told him there was something defective about a girl’s body. Yet the way Keiko had talked just now seemed to him to prove that it was not the first time she had let a man touch her breasts. That tempted him too. Grasping her firmly by her hair, he kissed her. Her forehead and neck were bathed in perspiration.

  The two walked downhill, past the graves of the Suminokura family, to the Gio Temple. From there they turned back and strolled as far as Mt. Arashi.

  They had lunch at the Kitcho restaurant.

  Afterward the waitress came in and told them their car had arrived.

  Somewhat taken aback, Taichiro looke
d at Keiko. While he had thought she was in the powder room she must have paid the bill and hired a car for them.

  As they were driving through Kyoto near the Nijo Castle Keiko remarked: “I didn’t realize we could get there in such a short time.”

  “Get where?”

  “Don’t be so absent-minded! Lake Biwa, of course.”

  The car headed toward the tall pagoda of the Eastern Temple, passed Kyoto Station, and went on by the temple. They were circling through the southern part of the city. For a time they followed the Kamo River, a rough stretch, rather than its usual placid course. The driver told them the mountain that lay ahead was called Mt. Ushio, meaning “oxtail.” Skirting to the left of it, they crossed the Eastern Hills.

  The view of the lake spread out below them.

  “That’s Lake Biwa!” Keiko declared briskly. “So I’ve finally brought you here.”

  Taichiro was surprised to see how many boats were out—sailboats, motorboats, sightseeing boats.

  They drove down to the old town of Otsu. Not far from the observation point overlooking the lake, they veered off to the left, passed a place where motorboats were racing, went through Hama-Otsu, and turned into the tree-lined driveway of the Lake Biwa Hotel. Automobiles were parked along both sides.

  Taichiro was startled to think that Keiko must have given the hotel as their destination when she hired the car.

  A hotel attendant came out to open the car door. There was nothing to do but go in.

  Without a glance at Taichiro, Keiko went straight up to the front desk and asked: “Do you have a reservation for Oki, from Kitcho’s at Mt. Arashi?”

  “Yes, indeed,” the room clerk replied. “For one night, I believe.”

  Then she stepped back to have Taichiro sign the registration card. After what she had said, he felt obliged to give his real name and address. Adding the words “and Keiko” to his own name somehow made him breathe more easily.

  The boy with the room key showed them into the elevator but only took them up to the next floor.

  Keiko seemed pleased with the suite.

  Besides an inner bedroom, there was a large room looking out on the lake along one side and on the hills bordering Kyoto along another. Perhaps to match the hotel’s Momoyama-style gabled architecture, the balcony outside was enclosed with a red balustrade. The low-paneled walls and sliding windows, the thick-framed glass doors, all had a dignified, old-fashioned air. Each of the wide windows covered a whole wall.

  Soon a maid brought green tea.

  Keiko stood motionless at the window by the lake, holding the edge of the white lace curtains with both hands.

  Taichiro sat in the middle of the sofa, watching her. She was wearing a different kimono from yesterday’s, but the same rainbow obi.

  The lake stretched out on her left. Clusters of sailboats were tacking along together. Most of the sails were white, but a few were red or purple or dark blue. Here and there motorboats dashed about casting up spray and trailing wakes of foam.

  Through the window came the sound of motorboat engines, of voices from the hotel pool, of a lawn mower somewhere. Inside there was the hum of the airconditioner.

  For a time he waited for her to speak. Then he asked if she wanted a cup of tea.

  She shook her head. “Why don’t you talk?” she said.

  “Why are you so silent? It’s cruel of you!” She tugged at the curtains petulantly. “Don’t you think it’s a beautiful view?”

  “Yes, it’s beautiful. But I was thinking how beautiful you are. The nape of your neck, your obi …”

  “Thinking of me in your arms at the temple?”

  “Thinking of—that?”

  “I suppose you’re angry with me. You’re shocked. I can tell.”

  “Perhaps I am.”

  “I’m shocked too. It’s fearful when a woman gives herself completely.” She lowered her voice. “So that’s why you won’t come here beside me?”

  Taichiro got up and went to her. He put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her gently over to the sofa. She sat close to him but kept her eyes down. “Let me have some tea,” she whispered. He picked up the cup and held it out to her. “From your mouth.”

  He took some tea in his mouth and let it seep little by little between her lips. Eyes closed, head tilted back, Keiko sipped the tea. Except for her lips and throat, she was inert.

  “More,” she said, still not moving. Taichiro took another mouthful of tea, and gave it to her mouth-to-mouth. “Ah, that was good.” Keiko opened her eyes. “I could die now. If only it had been poison.… I’m done for. Done for. And so are you.” Then she said:

  “Turn the other way.” Pushing him halfway round, she pressed her face against his shoulder. She put her arms around him, and searched for his hands. Taichiro grasped one of her hands in his, gazing at it as he stroked each of her fingers in turn.

  “I’m sorry,” Keiko said. “How thoughtless of me. You’d probably like a bath. Suppose I draw the water.”

  “All right.”

  “Unless you’d rather just have a shower.”

  “Do I need one?”

  “I like you this way. I’ve never known a smell I liked so much.” She paused. “But you must want to feel refreshed.”

  Keiko disappeared into the bedroom. He could hear water running in the bathroom beyond it.

  As he watched an excursion steamer nearing the hotel pier, Keiko came to tell him the bath was ready.

  Taichiro gave his body, sweaty since Saga, a thorough lathering.

  A sudden knock on the bathroom door made him shrink back. Was Keiko coming in? Then he heard her say that he was wanted on the telephone.

  “It couldn’t be for me. Who’s calling?… There must be some mistake.”

  “It’s for you,” she repeated.

  “That’s funny. No one knows I’m here.”

  “But it is for you.”

  Without stopping to dry himself, Taichiro slipped on a bath kimono and went out. “You say it’s for me?” he asked suspiciously.

  There was a telephone on the night table between the two beds. He was just going over to it, when Keiko told him to come to the other room.

  On a little table beside the television set was a telephone with the receiver off its cradle. As Taichiro picked up the receiver and held it to his ear, Keiko said: “It’s from your home, from Kamakura.”

  “It is?” he exclaimed, paling. “Why on earth?”

  “Your mother is on the line.” Then she added in a strained voice: “I called her. I said I’m here at the Lake Biwa Hotel, and you’ve promised to marry me. I said I hoped she’d give us her consent.”

  Taichiro stared at her.

  Of course his mother could hear what Keiko had just said. When he went to take a bath he had closed the bedroom and bathroom doors; what with the water splashing, he would not have heard Keiko make the telephone call. Had urging him to bathe been part of her plan?

  “Taichiro? Is Taichiro there?” His mother’s voice vibrated through the receiver clenched in his hand.

  As he stared at her, Keiko returned his stare, unblinking. Her beautiful eyes had a piercing radiance.

  “Isn’t Taichiro there?”

  “Yes, Mother, I’m here,” he said, putting the receiver to his ear.

  “It is you, Taichiro, isn’t it?” Her voice quavered. “Don’t do it! Taichiro, please don’t.”

  He did not reply.

  “That girl—you know what kind she is, don’t you? You must know.”

  Again Taichiro said nothing. Keiko put her arms around him from behind. Nudging the receiver aside with her cheek, she pressed her lips close to his ear. “Mother,” she called softly. “Mother, I wonder if you realize why I phoned you.”

  “Taichiro, can you hear me?” his mother asked. “Who’s there?”

  “I am,” he said, drawing away from Keiko’s lips and thrusting the receiver back to his ear.

  “Such impudence, talking on the phone ahead of you!
Did she have you call?” His mother did not wait for an answer. “Taichiro, come home! Leave that hotel at once and come home.… She’s listening in, isn’t she? I don’t care! I want her to hear. Taichiro, don’t have anything to do with that girl. She’s a dreadful person—I know! I can’t stand being tortured again. This time it would kill me! I’m not just saying that because she’s Miss Ueno’s pupil.”

  As he listened, Keiko’s lips were touching the back of his neck. “If I hadn’t been Miss Ueno’s pupil I’d never have met you,” she whispered.

  “It’s because she’s spiteful,” his mother went on. “I think she tried to seduce your father too!”

  “Oh?” he said faintly, and turned to look at Keiko. Her head moved with his, her lips still clinging to his neck. He felt that he was insulting his mother by listening to her over the telephone as Keiko kissed him. Yet he could not simply hang up. “We can talk about it when I come home.”

  “Yes—come home right away! You haven’t done anything wrong with her, have you? You can’t mean to stay overnight?” There was no reply. “Taichiro, look into her eyes! Think about what she says. Why do you suppose she wants to marry you, when she’s Miss Ueno’s pupil? It’s an evil woman’s scheme. At least she’s evil as far as we’re concerned. I’m sure of that, it’s not just my imagination. I had a feeling it was bad luck for you to go to Kyoto this time and I was right! Your father worried too, and said it looked suspicious. Taichiro, if you won’t come home we’re both going to take the next flight to Kyoto.”

  “I understand.”

  “You understand what?” Then, to make sure: “You’re coming home, aren’t you? You’re really coming home?”

  “All right.”

  Keiko darted off into the bedroom and shut the door.

  Taichiro stood quietly by the window, gazing out at the lake. A light plane, probably for sightseeing, curved away low over the water. Some of the motorboats were bounding along at high speed, one of them towing a girl on water skis.

  He could hear voices from the pool. Three young women in bathing suits were lying sprawled provocatively on the grass below his window.

  He heard Keiko calling him from the bedroom. When he opened the door she was standing there in a white bathing suit. He caught his breath, and looked away. Her slightly tanned skin glistened so dazzlingly that he hardly noticed the white wool suit.