Something Like an Autobiography - Akira Kurosawa [3]
The next thing I knew, I was being asked to take part in conversations when he was preparing to begin his autobiography. Later I was summoned on numerous occasions around the world to translate for him, to act as what he jokingly calls his “Foreign Minister,” and have been flattered to do so.
I hope that in translating Kurosawa Akira’s account of his own life that I have conveyed the spirit and sensibilities of this unique personality in a fashion that is comprehensible to the Western reading public. I have only my experience as his interpreter to guide me (and I have no professional training as an interpreter), but the content of this volume is far more delicate and necessarily far more personal than interviews and press conferences.
I have over the last four or five years seen Mr. Kurosawa in situations where he appears meek, vulnerable and, on occasion, testy—but only when provoked. These are usually meetings with the press. I have also seen him in situations where he is totally in command and clearly in love with what he is doing—making movies. The image I retain of him in my mind’s eye directing the night battle scenes in Kagemusha is one of a man brimming with confidence, authority and potential. If some of the excitement I have experienced in the presence of this contradictory and inspiring personality emerges in the translation of this remarkable life, my hopes will have been fulfilled.
AUDIE BOCK
Berkeley, October 1981
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Translator’s Preface
Preface
Babyhood
Morimura Gakuen
Crybaby
Whirlwind
Kendō
Calligraphy
Murasaki and Shōnagon
The Fragrance of Meiji, the Sounds of Taishō
Storytellers
The Goblin’s Nose
The Gleam of Fireflies
Keika Middle School
A Long Red Brick Wall
September 1, 1923
Darkness and Humanity
A Horrifying Excursion
Honor and Revere
My Rebellious Phase
A Distant Village
The Family Tree
My Aunt Togashi
The Sapling
The Labyrinth
Military Service
A Coward and a Weakling
An Alleyway in the Floating World
A Story I Don’t Want to Tell
Negative and Positive
A Mountain Pass
P.C.L.
A Long Story: Part I
A Long Story: Part II
Congenital Defects
Good People
A Bitter War
My Mountain
Ready, Start!
Sugata Sanshirō
The Most Beautiful
Sugata Sanshirō, Part II
Marriage
The Men Who Tread on the Tiger’s Tail
The Japanese
No Regrets for Our Youth
One Wonderful Sunday
A Neighborhood with an Open Sump
Drunken Angel
On the Banks of the River Sai
The Quiet Duel
A Salmon’s Old Stories
Stray Dog
Scandal
Rashōmon
Epilogue
Appendix: Some Random Notes on Filmmaking
A Note About the Author
A Note About the Translator
Preface
IN THE PRE-WAR era when itinerant home-remedy salesmen still wandered the country, they had a traditional patter for selling a potion that was supposed to be particularly effective in treating burns and cuts. A toad with four legs in front and six behind would be placed in a box with mirrors lining the four walls. The toad, amazed at its own appearance from every angle, would break into an oily sweat. This sweat would be collected and simmered for 3,721 days while being stirred with a willow branch. The result was the marvelous potion.
Writing about myself, I feel something like that toad in the box. I have to look at myself from many angles, over many years, whether I like what I see or not. I may not be a ten-legged toad, but what confronts me in the mirror does bring on something like the toad’s oily sweat.
Circumstances have conspired, without my noticing it, to make me reach seventy-one years of age this year. Looking back over all this time, what is there for me to say, except that a lot has happened? Many people have suggested that I write an autobiography, but I have never before felt favorably disposed toward the idea. This is partly because I believe that what pertains only