it whole, and if I acquired knowledge mechanically, that did not bother me either.
Nevertheless, however much people praised me because I was strutting around wearing other people’s clothes, deep down inside me were the early stirrings of anxiety. I wore peacock feathers easily and strutted around proudly, but I began to understand that if I did not abandon the borrowed plumes, that if I did not go back to something more authentic, the anxiety within me would never disappear.
For example, a Westerner may well say that a poem is magnificent, that the style is remarkable, and that is his opinion as a Westerner, even if I happen to mention it. If I did not agree, I was not obliged to adopt his ideas. I was an independent Japanese. I was never the servant of England. As part of the Japanese nation, I owed it to myself to make my own judgement. Besides, from the moral perspective—in which honesty is central and a virtue that is prized by all the countries in the world—I had to stay faithful to my personal opinion.
That, however, does not prevent me from specializing in English literature. I found that I generally became annoyed when I disagreed with the ideas of a native English critic. I had to ask myself what was the cause of the disagreement. Was it due to a difference in customs, feelings or habits? If we went deeper into it, we would attribute this disagreement to national character. But the average scholars, confusing literature and science, would conclude that what suits country A could not but give his admiration in country B, and would be seriously mistaken. I must say that I myself was mistaken on this point. If I find it impossible to reconcile myself with English critics, I must be able to explain why. Simply by formulating this explanation, I can throw some light on the world of literature. At the period I am speaking of, I understood this for the first time. That was extremely late. But it is the straight truth, and I will not distort the facts for you.
From that moment, in order to support my positions in relation to literature—in fact, it would be better to say in order to develop new convictions—I began to read works which had nothing to do with great literature. In short, I ended up pondering on the expression “self-centered”7 and, to test this concentration on myself, I plunged into the reading of scientific and philosophical works. Now times have changed, and people who have any sense at all must understand the problem I have been talking about. But at that time, I had the intellectual level of a child and the world around me was hardly more advanced. In fact, I had no other way out.
I gained a great deal of strength from this period of introspection and it prompted me to ask who these Westerners were. In fact, this concentration on myself set me in motion—I who up to then had remained stuck in one place, disorientated— and pointed out the way to me.
I must admit that this marked a new departure in life for me. When we imitate Westerners and make a lot of noise about nothing, it only brings us anxiety. So if I endeavored to explain to people why they should not let themselves be thus influenced, telling them it was better that they should not act like Westerners, not only would I feel I was doing the right thing but they too would benefit greatly. That is what I thought. Then I decided to dedicate my life’s work to carrying out this plan by writing books and in other ways.
At that moment, my anxiety disappeared completely and I began to explore the city of London with a light heart. To put it metaphorically, my pickaxe had finally struck a rich seam. Let me add, at the risk of repeating myself that the path I had to take, which until then had been shrouded in mist, was now clear to me.
By the time this light dawned within me, more than a year of my stay in England had passed. It was impossible for me to accomplish my plan while I was still abroad, so I resolved to collect as much material as I could and to complete my work when I returned to Japan. By pure chance, I would return to my country with a strength that I did not have when I left it.
However, as soon as I arrived back in Japan, I had to take steps to ensure that I could earn a living. I started giving lessons in a Postgraduate School and I also taught at the university. As this still left me without enough money, I also worked in a private school. To crown it all, I lost my nerve and I was forced in the end to publish trivial articles in magazines. Because of the burden of these various tasks, I had to abandon a project that I was halfway through. The Theory of Literature that I had published seemed not so much to represent the work I wanted to accomplish as to be the remnants of a defeat. It was like a deformed child, or, rather, it was like the ruins of an unfinished city which had been destroyed by an earthquake before it had been completely built.
However, that idea of concentration on myself, which appeared at the time I have spoken of, never left me for one moment. Indeed, as the years passed, it grew stronger. The plan to create my life’s work had met with failure. However, the conviction that I acquired at that time, that the Ego is the essential ingredient and that others are merely secondary, brings me today great self-confidence and a deep feeling of peace. It seems as if this is what allows me, even now, to continue to live. In fact, it is perhaps thanks to this strength that I can stand on this platform and give you this lecture.
Up to now, I have really only summarized my experience for you, but, in an excess of concern for you, the idea behind my story is that you should identify in it some relationship to your own situation. You will all leave this establishment and go out into the world. For many of you, this will not be for some time; several of you will soon start to work in society. But I presume that you are all likely to repeat my experience; that is to say, you yourselves will feel the same anguish that I once endured (even if it is of a different nature). I think there must be many among you who are very angry because you want to find an opening somewhere but cannot; you would like to grasp something firmly but you grip only a smooth bald head.
If some of you have already found an opening in some way, you must be exceptional cases. There are also those who satisfy themselves by following a traditional path, and I would not say that there is anything wrong with that, if it brings them inner peace and confidence in themselves. But if you have no support, you must go on whatever the cost until you reach the place where, as you dig with your pickaxe, you discover a seam. You must go on, because if you do not find the seam, you will spend all your life in an uncomfortable situation, treading water, not knowing what to do. If I lay so much stress on my own example, it is so that you will not be plunged into perplexity: it is not in any way to propose myself as a model. However normal I may seem, I know that I have managed to make my own way, and if you think my way is absurd, your observations and criticisms will not harm me. I think that I am satisfied with the path I have chosen, but let there be no misunderstanding between us! This path has given me satisfaction and peace of mind, and has enabled me to have confidence in myself, but I do not at all believe that, because of this, the path that I have followed can act as a model for you.
In any case, I can certainly detect in you the same type of anxiety that I experienced. Is that true? If it is, ten years, twenty years, sometimes a whole lifetime will be needed to find something tangible at last. “There it is! I have finally found the way that I should follow! I have finally reached my destination!” When these exclamations are yours, you should find peace of mind. When you utter these words, an infallible confidence in yourself will make you hold your head up high. Perhaps a number of you have already reached this stage. But if there are some among you who are tormented by the mist and thick fog that have risen in your path, whatever sacrifice you are driven to, you will be satisfied, I think, when you reach your destination. It is not a question of working only for the good of the country or of your family; it is something that is absolutely essential for happiness.
If you have already taken a similar path to mine, what I have to say will be of little use to you, but if any obstacle appears in your path you must overcome it, or otherwise, regrettably, you will fail. Of course, the mere fact of going forward does not mean that you have taken the right direction. There is nothing else to do but walk until you find something tangible. I have no desire to remonstrate with you, but as I think that your future happiness depends on this process, I cannot remain silent on the subject. I am giving this speech because it seems to me that
