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No One Knows: Stories
No one really understands how we suffer. One day, when we're adults, we may come to recall this suffering, this misery, as silly and laughable, but how are we to get through the long, hateful period until then? No one bothers to teach us that.
Osamu Dazai was a master raconteur who plumbed--in an addictive, easy style--the absurd complexities of life in a society whose expectations cannot be met without sacrificing one's individual ideals on the altar of conformity. The gravitational pull of his prose is on full display in these stories. In "Lantern," a young woman, in love with a well-born but impoverished student, shoplifts a bathing suit for him--and ends up in the local newspaper indicted as a crazed, degenerate communist. In "Chiyojo," a high-school girl shows early promise as a writer, but as her uncle and mother relentlessly push her to pursue a literary career, she must ask herself: is this what I really want? Or am I supposed to fulfill their own frustrated ambitions? In "Shame," a young reader writes a fan letter to a writer she admires, only to find out, upon visiting him, that he's a bourgeoise sophisticate nothing like the desperate rebels he portrays, and decides (in true Dazai style): "Novelists are human trash. No, they're worse than that; they're demons. . . They write nothing but lies."
This collection of 14 tales--a half-dozen of which have never before appeared in English--is based on a Japanese collection of, as Dazai described them, "soliloquies by female narrators." No One Knows includes the quietly brilliant long story "Schoolgirl" and shows the fiction of this 20th-century genius in a fresh light.
Osamu Dazai was a master raconteur who plumbed--in an addictive, easy style--the absurd complexities of life in a society whose expectations cannot be met without sacrificing one's individual ideals on the altar of conformity. The gravitational pull of his prose is on full display in these stories. In "Lantern," a young woman, in love with a well-born but impoverished student, shoplifts a bathing suit for him--and ends up in the local newspaper indicted as a crazed, degenerate communist. In "Chiyojo," a high-school girl shows early promise as a writer, but as her uncle and mother relentlessly push her to pursue a literary career, she must ask herself: is this what I really want? Or am I supposed to fulfill their own frustrated ambitions? In "Shame," a young reader writes a fan letter to a writer she admires, only to find out, upon visiting him, that he's a bourgeoise sophisticate nothing like the desperate rebels he portrays, and decides (in true Dazai style): "Novelists are human trash. No, they're worse than that; they're demons. . . They write nothing but lies."
This collection of 14 tales--a half-dozen of which have never before appeared in English--is based on a Japanese collection of, as Dazai described them, "soliloquies by female narrators." No One Knows includes the quietly brilliant long story "Schoolgirl" and shows the fiction of this 20th-century genius in a fresh light.
256 pages, Paperback
Published February 4, 2025
226 people are currently reading
2513 people want to read
About the author
Osamu Dazai
1,243 books9,861 followersOsamu DAZAI (native name: 太宰治, real name Shūji Tsushima) was a Japanese author who is considered one of the foremost fiction writers of 20th-century Japan. A number of his most popular works, such as Shayō (The Setting Sun) and Ningen Shikkaku (No Longer Human), are considered modern-day classics in Japan.
With a semi-autobiographical style and transparency into his personal life, Dazai’s stories have intrigued the minds of many readers. His books also bring about awareness to a number of important topics such as human nature, mental illness, social relationships, and postwar Japan.
With a semi-autobiographical style and transparency into his personal life, Dazai’s stories have intrigued the minds of many readers. His books also bring about awareness to a number of important topics such as human nature, mental illness, social relationships, and postwar Japan.
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March 20, 2025For all his misogyny he's weirdly good at writing compelling female narrators imo...
May 13, 2025
Dazai wrote frivolously. He was a master storyteller when it comes to self reflective, inner most confession of one's own suffering & plights. As miserable as his characters were, there are quiet strengths to each of these narrator's voice shown through their actions and words. With 14 tales of female centric narration, at the centre of this collection were the female characters and their unobstrusively, unfiltered thoughts on their life & feelings. From a young girl's love for her lover as she suffered great deals of shame of theft, a schoolgirl's stream of consciousness of the day in her life as she contemplates on her grief & uneasy life as a girl, an older sister affection for her ailing young sister with the hope her innocent love remained pure, a wife breaks out in skin rashes reflecting on her marriage, an unknown feelings during her youth and a friendship that lost its connection, of a wife initially comfortable with their poverty stricken life but found unbearable when her husband struck gold, a talented young writer being pushed to submit more essays to literary competitions, and so many more.
Each stories were told in a simple way but molded into a narrative that felt closer to the reader as if we are reading from their innermost thoughts. Some of the stories felt closer to truth, almost similar to Dazai's own story or rather an ominous prediction of what could be such as the double suicide in the last story. Its both disturbing & sad to read once you know what truly happened. Exploring on themes of alienation, loneliness, self-worth, beauty, the struggles of motherhood, youth, one's individuality, suffering aftermaths of war, while delicately touched on the complex emotions of one's desire to love and be loved, to find a comfortable place in society & to just find happiness in a bleak, insufferable world. They are tragic stories but some are written humorously with a depth of unintentional hope & consolation to be felt & this book prove that Dazai was a graceful writer of exposing our inner darkness with a touch of humor and hopefulness to it
Thank you Definitely Books #pansing for the review copy
Each stories were told in a simple way but molded into a narrative that felt closer to the reader as if we are reading from their innermost thoughts. Some of the stories felt closer to truth, almost similar to Dazai's own story or rather an ominous prediction of what could be such as the double suicide in the last story. Its both disturbing & sad to read once you know what truly happened. Exploring on themes of alienation, loneliness, self-worth, beauty, the struggles of motherhood, youth, one's individuality, suffering aftermaths of war, while delicately touched on the complex emotions of one's desire to love and be loved, to find a comfortable place in society & to just find happiness in a bleak, insufferable world. They are tragic stories but some are written humorously with a depth of unintentional hope & consolation to be felt & this book prove that Dazai was a graceful writer of exposing our inner darkness with a touch of humor and hopefulness to it
Thank you Definitely Books #pansing for the review copy
February 9, 2025
Dazai narratives through various women, who I suspect are talking about Dazai, among other things. Close to perfection as perfection can be. The short story form is made for Dazai, and every narrative in this volume stings a bit. It's a remarkable collection.
April 4, 2025
I had (have) my reservations about a man writing ‘soliloquies by female narrators’ and I am also aware that I lack the historical (written and set in the 1930-40’s) and cultural (set in Japan) knowledge to judge whether the experiences and emotions of young Japanese women then are accurately depicted in this collection of stories. With that being said, I do believe the stories reflect a general cultural mindset in (post-)war Japan.
The conflict between meeting societal expectations at the cost of one’s individuality serves as an interesting common thread in this series. The stories were easy to read and riveting. It felt like a deep-dive into the brains of some handpicked individuals and read as such: some felt like a fever dream, others were relatable in unexpected ways, and the different narrators came across as authentic in their own ways. The stories touch upon themes like familial relationships, (extra)marital affairs (a lot of drunken husbands), juggling external expectations, morality, beauty and passion, reality vs. fiction, in a casual manner, and don’t shy away from the obsessive, pervasive, the shame and the fears attached to those themes. The book (in my opinion) invites a refreshing amount of (self-)reflection (e.g., to which degree (if any) can an author’s character be judged by a work of fiction they have written? When the world around you goes to war, what does safety look like to you? Etc.)
I appreciate the simplicity of the writing and the insights into the then (and probably still, to some degree) present gender roles in relationships. As a theme across the different stories though, it seems like the drunken husband(/men) rarely changes while the wife seems to twist herself into knots to accommodate him or at the very least, she shifts emotionally in their relationship. Favourite story from the bundle was ‘Osan’.
The conflict between meeting societal expectations at the cost of one’s individuality serves as an interesting common thread in this series. The stories were easy to read and riveting. It felt like a deep-dive into the brains of some handpicked individuals and read as such: some felt like a fever dream, others were relatable in unexpected ways, and the different narrators came across as authentic in their own ways. The stories touch upon themes like familial relationships, (extra)marital affairs (a lot of drunken husbands), juggling external expectations, morality, beauty and passion, reality vs. fiction, in a casual manner, and don’t shy away from the obsessive, pervasive, the shame and the fears attached to those themes. The book (in my opinion) invites a refreshing amount of (self-)reflection (e.g., to which degree (if any) can an author’s character be judged by a work of fiction they have written? When the world around you goes to war, what does safety look like to you? Etc.)
I appreciate the simplicity of the writing and the insights into the then (and probably still, to some degree) present gender roles in relationships. As a theme across the different stories though, it seems like the drunken husband(/men) rarely changes while the wife seems to twist herself into knots to accommodate him or at the very least, she shifts emotionally in their relationship. Favourite story from the bundle was ‘Osan’.
May 2, 2025
"To master your feelings and quietly turn your own world around is the true revolution."
"Listen. When a woman convinces herself that it doesn't matter what may come tomorrow, that's when she's at her most womanly. Don't you agree?"
Dazai really said “let’s spiral, but make it literary”—and I was here for it (at least in the first half). The narrators in those early short stories had that signature Dazai touch: deeply reflective, existential, and painfully aware of their own contradictions. That sense of honesty and internal conflict is what always draws me to his work, and it was so present in the beginning of this collection.
But somewhere around the second half, the momentum started to fade a bit for me. The reflective moments I was loving earlier began to thin out, and some stories dragged more than they delivered. It didn’t fully lose me, but the emotional punch definitely softened.
That said—shoutout to the female narrators in this one. They were stellar. The way Dazai wrote their interiority felt sharp, layered, and at times, even more nuanced than his usual male voices. It gave the collection a distinct balance and a fresh angle that I really appreciated.
Overall, No One Knows was a moody, self-aware, and at times, devastatingly human collection that reminded me why I keep coming back to Dazai’s writing. Not perfect, but still one of his more memorable ones for me.
"Listen. When a woman convinces herself that it doesn't matter what may come tomorrow, that's when she's at her most womanly. Don't you agree?"
Dazai really said “let’s spiral, but make it literary”—and I was here for it (at least in the first half). The narrators in those early short stories had that signature Dazai touch: deeply reflective, existential, and painfully aware of their own contradictions. That sense of honesty and internal conflict is what always draws me to his work, and it was so present in the beginning of this collection.
But somewhere around the second half, the momentum started to fade a bit for me. The reflective moments I was loving earlier began to thin out, and some stories dragged more than they delivered. It didn’t fully lose me, but the emotional punch definitely softened.
That said—shoutout to the female narrators in this one. They were stellar. The way Dazai wrote their interiority felt sharp, layered, and at times, even more nuanced than his usual male voices. It gave the collection a distinct balance and a fresh angle that I really appreciated.
Overall, No One Knows was a moody, self-aware, and at times, devastatingly human collection that reminded me why I keep coming back to Dazai’s writing. Not perfect, but still one of his more memorable ones for me.
May 28, 2025
a collection of fourteen short stories all in the pov of a female narrator. some of them are still girls going to school, some are sisters and half of them are wives. what they all have in common is that they're all struggling in a way, either with their husbands, self-deprecating thoughts or something else.
i didn't like all of them but i don't think you have to. some of them have pitiful narrators with zero luck, especially the last two, but i liked the variety and realness of the stories.
i didn't like all of them but i don't think you have to. some of them have pitiful narrators with zero luck, especially the last two, but i liked the variety and realness of the stories.
April 6, 2026
Dazai is incredible and relevant as ever in this collection of stories!!! 10/10 book!!
———
QUOTES:
———
“Wait. Let me make one thing clear from the beginning: I'm laying this all out for God to judge, since I can no longer depend on people. If any believe me, let them believe.”
“I believe that all of us should treat the weak and timid with loving-kindness.”
“Had there been poison in the house at that moment, I would gladly have taken it; had a bamboo grove been nearby, I would have quietly wandered in and hanged myself.”
“I guess happiness, for us, is a new light bulb.”
“Morning is ruthless. So many sad feelings, all kinds of them, flood your heart, and it's awful. I hate it, I really do. I'm at my ugliest in the morning.”
“My eyeglasses are the feature I hate most about my face, but there's one good thing about having to wear them that others don't know. I like to take my glasses off and gaze into the distance. It's wonderful, all misty, like in a dream, or a scene in a zoetrope. You can't see anything unpleasant, only large objects, and strong, vivid colors and light.”
“I want to meet lots of people with beautiful eyes.”
“Maybe what it comes down to is this: I have too much time on my hands and no real hardship in life, so I have no way to process all the sense impressions I get from the hundreds and thousands of things I see and hear every day, and maybe later, as I'm gazing vacantly into space, those impressions turn into ghostly faces that come bobbing up to the surface to haunt me.”
“I know it's not going to rain, but I'm dying to carry this fabulous umbrella I got from Mother yesterday.”
“If I, lacking experiences of my own to draw on, were to be deprived of reading, I'd probably just plop down and cry.”
“We have no individuality, they say. No depth. Our goals and ambitions are misguided to begin with. In other words, we lack any genuine ideals.”
“They use adjectives like ‘true’ and ‘real’ and ‘innate’, but they don't tell us what ‘true’ love and ‘real’ self-knowledge are — at least, not in any terms you can really grasp.”
“They scold us for not having ‘proper aspirations’ or ‘proper ambitions’, but if we really were to chase after proper ideals, to what extent would they be willing to support and guide us, I wonder?”
“‘Mass education’ strikes me as an awfully cruel system. As I've grown up, I've gradually come to realize that the ethics we're taught in school are very different from the rules of the real world. Stick faithfully to the ethics you learn in school and you'll make a complete fool of yourself.”
“Secretly, I really do cherish what individuality I have, and I hope I always will, hut I'm afraid to flaunt it. I want to be what people consider a nice girl.”
“Once you've sat down, the things you think about are completely different from when you're standing. When you're seated, all your thoughts are spineless and unreliable.”
“One little smile is enough to decide a woman's fate. It's terrifying.”
“Unconscious drives. That is a concept that can bring me to the brink of tears. It makes me crazy when something I do or think causes me to realize the enormity of the unconscious, the tremendous power it has — a power for which our wills are no match at all.”
“The unconscious is a major part of whoever I might be at any given moment, and that realization is enough to bring tears to my eyes.”
“The moment we call ‘now’ is a funny thing. Now...Now...Now... You try to put your finger on it, but it's already gone, and now there's a new now.”
“Idiot. Maybe there's just too happiness in my life.”
“He doesn't express himself clearly, and it's a bother just answering him. He's supposed to be my teacher, but the way he gets all flustered and embarrassed and never says what he really feels is creepy.”
“I think I've got hin beat, in fact, because of my skill at using my affections in a crafty way. I'm such a poser, it's not even funny. I can say something like, ‘I'm a lying, deceitful monster who adopts poses and then lets those poses dictate her behavior’, but that's just another pose, and where does that leave me?”
“Stop reading books. Your life is fulled with nothing but ideas, and that senseless, arrogant, know-it-all attitude of yours is contemptible, just contemptible.”
“I don't look the least bit cute, and I feel miserable. It's absolutely depressing. I begin to feel like some disgusting old hen or something, having my hair done on the sly like this. Now I really regret it. We must have awfully low opinions of ourselves, to come to a place like this.”
“It's as if Kinko has no personality of her own, which is probably why she seems so extraordinarily feminine.”
“Women are disgusting. Being one myself, I know all too well what filthy things women are, and it makes me want to gnash my teeth in vexation.”
“If I could get some terribly serious disease, burning with fever and sweating rivers until I'm nothing but skin and bone, maybe then I'd be cleansed.”
“Why do I feel so uneasy? It's as though I live in constant fear of something. Not long ago, someone told me I was becoming more and more ‘common’.”
“Right now I believe in God. I wonder what you call this color, the color the sky is now. Roses. Fire. Rainbows. Angel wings. Cathedrals. No, none of them come close. It's more holy, more divine.”
“I want to love everyone. This thought strikes me with such force that I almost feel like I'm going to weep.”
“When I peer into the mirror, I'm taken aback by how vivacious I look. This face is a stranger to me. It has absolutely nothing to do with these feelings of mine, this sadness and pain. It's living a life of its own.”
“I look adorable. I take off my glasses and smile softly. My eyes are very nice right now. Clear as a blue, blue sky. Maybe it's because I gazed at that beautiful evening sky for so long. Hooray.”
“Mother must be awfully lonely too. Not long ago she gave me a little talking-to. ‘From here on in,’ she said, ‘there's nothing for me to enjoy in life. Even watching you grow up — to be completely honest, I don't really take much pleasure in it anymore. Forgive me. You must understand: it's natural and proper that I have no real happiness, now that your father's gone.’”
“No matter how much I try to console her and talk with her, it's not the same, I'm not Father. The love between husband and wife must be the strongest bond in the world, stronger and more precious than even the love that blood relatives feel.”
“I want to be a good daughter, just the kind of girl she'd like me to be, but I don't like the idea of trying to please her in such queer ways. It would be best if I didn't have to do or say anything, if she would just understand me and trust me.”
“Mother, I'm an adult now. I already know all about the world, and people. Feel free to talk to me about anything, anything at all.”
“All right, that's overstating things a bit, but since I'm incapable of making anything really delicious, the least I can do is serve up something that's so attractive to the eye that the guests are dazzled into thinking it's actually tasty. Appearances come first in serving up a meal. You can get away with just about anything if it looks good.”
“Mother, there's no need to go out of your way to align yourself with people like this. Mother isn't Mother when she has guests. She's just this weak-willed woman. Mother, you don't have to kowtow to anyone simply because Father's gone.”
“I have to admit I envy people who never doubt themselves and spend their whole lives among others who are equally meek and gentle and warm. As far as hardship goes, if you can get through your life without experiencing it, so much the better; there's no need to go out of your way to seek hardship.”
“I often think I'd never be able to make it in prison. I know that's a funny thought, but it's true. Prison? I couldn't even make it as someone's maid.”
“Once you've made up your mind to devote yourself to someone until death, then no matter how much you toil and suffer, you're bound to feel that life is worth living, that there's always hope. It's only natural.”
“I get so discombobulated when the laundry piles up, it's as if I'm on the verge of hysteria. I feel I'll die if I don't get the washing done. And once I've washed every last item and hung everything up to dry, I feel that if I WERE to die now, at least I could rest in peace.”
“If I want to study, I have all the time in the world to do so; but if I decide to be selfish and immoral, my most extravagant desires might be fulfilled. What a help it would be for my state of mind if someone were to put limits on what I could do.”
“I read in some magazine that there's just one thing soldiers on the front crave: a good night's sleep. I sympathize with the soldiers, but this made me envious of them as well.”
“Imagine losing your sight when you're so young. What would it be on a quiet night like this, alone in your room?”
“What an unbearable thought. It's so disturbing the way my body goes on changing all by itself, completely independent of my feelings. I can't stand it. It's sad to see myself becoming an adult right before my eyes and knowing I can't do anything about it.”
“Somehow the stars are weighing on my mind tonight, and after my bath I step out into the garden. It's as if it's raining stars.”
“It smells so good. With that fragrance in the air, no unclean thoughts or feelings can get to me, even as I sit here alone and bored. I bought the lily yesterday evening, on my way back from taking a walk near the station, and since then it's as if my room is a different room altogether.”
“Lately I've got into this strange habit of doing the laundry when it's nearly midnight. It seems a pity to waste time washing clothes during the day, but maybe I'm the one who's got things backwards.”
“No one really understands how we suffer. One day when we're adults, we may come to recall this suffering, this misery, as silly and laughable, but how are we to get through the long, hateful period until then?”
“By no means are we blind to the future, by no means do we live only for the moment, but to point at some mountain far off in the distance and tell us that everything will be clear once we get to the top of it, that there's a wonderful view up there... Well, we know it's exactly as you say; we don't doubt your words for a monent. But what about this fierce misery inside us right now?”
“I feel relieved, refreshed. I feel as though my heart has become transparent to the core; I enter a state of what you might call sublime nihilism.”
“Tomorrow, no doubt, will be another day just like today. Happiness will never come. I know that. But as you're going to sleep, it's probably better to believe that it will, that it'll be here tomorrow.”
“Falling asleep is a strange sensation. It's as if something heavy hangs by a string from your head, like a big carp or eel at the end of a fishing line, pulling you down.”
“Good night. I'm a Cinderella without a prince. You don't know where in Tokyo I am, do you? We won't meet again.”
“My sister, not knowing how close to death she was, remained in relatively good spirits, and though she was confined to bed day and night, she cheerfully sang songs and joked and laughed as she let me spoil her, and whenever I reflected that she had only thirty or forty days to live, that this was a medical certainty, it was as if my entire body were being pierced by needles, and I thought I would go mad with the pain.”
“The sensation was, perhaps, like being struck by lighting, and I stood bolt upright with the shock. My sister's romance had not been purely platonic — it had progressed to more detestable things.”
“There is nothing I can do to help you. All I have to give you are words. My words contain not the slightest shadow of falsehood, but they are, nonetheless, only words.”
“But I really wish I'd had a chance to do something bold and reckless with a gentleman friend. I would have liked someone to hold me tightly in his arms. Not only have I never had a lover, I've never even talked with a man — outside of our immediate circle, I mean. You haven't either, have you? That was our mistake. We were too sensible.”
“There is a God, there really is. I was sure of it then.”
“The world goes dark around me, and I feel as if I've been plunged into a vision of Hell. From this moment on, I'm no longer the person I was. In fact, I'm no longer sure I'm a person at all.”
“My husband has always refused to admit to any flaws in my decidedly unattractive face. He's never mentioned, even in jest, any of its comically odd features but has in fact looked at me with all the crystal clarity of a blue sky and said: ‘I think it's a good face. I like it.’”
“I was strangely drawn to the design, and once I'd finished school I used the products of that cosmetics firm exclusively; I was, so to speak, a fan. But I never once wondered about the designer of the rambling rose. Rather thoughtless of me, I suppose, but I'm not the only one: nobody who looks at those beautiful newspaper layouts, for example, ever wonders who the designer is. He's like a shadow warrior, an unsung hero.”
“Once you pass out, you're in dreamland. You ascend to heaven and cleanly escape all suffering. And if you die, that's all right too.
“God has gone too far this time. It's not as if there aren't any number of illnesses He might have chosen; the thing I dreaded most has happened to me. It's like hitting the little golden bullseye with one shot, dropping me straight into the pit I fear most. It's just baffling to me how this could happen.”
“It's so far beyond the pale that part of me just wants to laugh hysterically. Ogre. Demon. I'm not a human being. Let me just die like this.”
“It's physically painful; is this what they call jealousy? If so, jealousy is a madness of the flesh, with no way out. It's a dark and hideous thing, without an iota of beauty about it. I guess this world contains deeper levels of hell than I ever expected.”
“Never put your faith in the human heart.”
“I knew I didn't deserve all this praise; and what would happen the next time I wrote something mediocre or worse? Everyone would laugh at me, and it worried me half to death to think how embarrassing and painful that would be.”
“However great a person's talent, without sincerity he or she will never achieve success in any field.”
“I'm no good. I'm definitely stupid, and I'm not even sure who I am anymore.”
“Nippon's supposed to be the land of the rising sun. The furthest east of the Far East. I always thought that Nippon is where the sun rises, and now you're telling me America's to the east of us?”
“For a man with faith, walking in the dark is the same as walking in road daylight.”
“My eyes have seen a hundred, no, a thousand times more snowy scenes than yours have, more than I even care to remember — and prettier ones too. Say what you will, your eyes aren't even in the same league as mine.”
“With every ounce of happiness comes a pound of devilry.”
“My life has changed completely now. It's been transformed into something full of joy and light.”
“As long as we can go on living — that's all that really matters.”
———
QUOTES:
———
“Wait. Let me make one thing clear from the beginning: I'm laying this all out for God to judge, since I can no longer depend on people. If any believe me, let them believe.”
“I believe that all of us should treat the weak and timid with loving-kindness.”
“Had there been poison in the house at that moment, I would gladly have taken it; had a bamboo grove been nearby, I would have quietly wandered in and hanged myself.”
“I guess happiness, for us, is a new light bulb.”
“Morning is ruthless. So many sad feelings, all kinds of them, flood your heart, and it's awful. I hate it, I really do. I'm at my ugliest in the morning.”
“My eyeglasses are the feature I hate most about my face, but there's one good thing about having to wear them that others don't know. I like to take my glasses off and gaze into the distance. It's wonderful, all misty, like in a dream, or a scene in a zoetrope. You can't see anything unpleasant, only large objects, and strong, vivid colors and light.”
“I want to meet lots of people with beautiful eyes.”
“Maybe what it comes down to is this: I have too much time on my hands and no real hardship in life, so I have no way to process all the sense impressions I get from the hundreds and thousands of things I see and hear every day, and maybe later, as I'm gazing vacantly into space, those impressions turn into ghostly faces that come bobbing up to the surface to haunt me.”
“I know it's not going to rain, but I'm dying to carry this fabulous umbrella I got from Mother yesterday.”
“If I, lacking experiences of my own to draw on, were to be deprived of reading, I'd probably just plop down and cry.”
“We have no individuality, they say. No depth. Our goals and ambitions are misguided to begin with. In other words, we lack any genuine ideals.”
“They use adjectives like ‘true’ and ‘real’ and ‘innate’, but they don't tell us what ‘true’ love and ‘real’ self-knowledge are — at least, not in any terms you can really grasp.”
“They scold us for not having ‘proper aspirations’ or ‘proper ambitions’, but if we really were to chase after proper ideals, to what extent would they be willing to support and guide us, I wonder?”
“‘Mass education’ strikes me as an awfully cruel system. As I've grown up, I've gradually come to realize that the ethics we're taught in school are very different from the rules of the real world. Stick faithfully to the ethics you learn in school and you'll make a complete fool of yourself.”
“Secretly, I really do cherish what individuality I have, and I hope I always will, hut I'm afraid to flaunt it. I want to be what people consider a nice girl.”
“Once you've sat down, the things you think about are completely different from when you're standing. When you're seated, all your thoughts are spineless and unreliable.”
“One little smile is enough to decide a woman's fate. It's terrifying.”
“Unconscious drives. That is a concept that can bring me to the brink of tears. It makes me crazy when something I do or think causes me to realize the enormity of the unconscious, the tremendous power it has — a power for which our wills are no match at all.”
“The unconscious is a major part of whoever I might be at any given moment, and that realization is enough to bring tears to my eyes.”
“The moment we call ‘now’ is a funny thing. Now...Now...Now... You try to put your finger on it, but it's already gone, and now there's a new now.”
“Idiot. Maybe there's just too happiness in my life.”
“He doesn't express himself clearly, and it's a bother just answering him. He's supposed to be my teacher, but the way he gets all flustered and embarrassed and never says what he really feels is creepy.”
“I think I've got hin beat, in fact, because of my skill at using my affections in a crafty way. I'm such a poser, it's not even funny. I can say something like, ‘I'm a lying, deceitful monster who adopts poses and then lets those poses dictate her behavior’, but that's just another pose, and where does that leave me?”
“Stop reading books. Your life is fulled with nothing but ideas, and that senseless, arrogant, know-it-all attitude of yours is contemptible, just contemptible.”
“I don't look the least bit cute, and I feel miserable. It's absolutely depressing. I begin to feel like some disgusting old hen or something, having my hair done on the sly like this. Now I really regret it. We must have awfully low opinions of ourselves, to come to a place like this.”
“It's as if Kinko has no personality of her own, which is probably why she seems so extraordinarily feminine.”
“Women are disgusting. Being one myself, I know all too well what filthy things women are, and it makes me want to gnash my teeth in vexation.”
“If I could get some terribly serious disease, burning with fever and sweating rivers until I'm nothing but skin and bone, maybe then I'd be cleansed.”
“Why do I feel so uneasy? It's as though I live in constant fear of something. Not long ago, someone told me I was becoming more and more ‘common’.”
“Right now I believe in God. I wonder what you call this color, the color the sky is now. Roses. Fire. Rainbows. Angel wings. Cathedrals. No, none of them come close. It's more holy, more divine.”
“I want to love everyone. This thought strikes me with such force that I almost feel like I'm going to weep.”
“When I peer into the mirror, I'm taken aback by how vivacious I look. This face is a stranger to me. It has absolutely nothing to do with these feelings of mine, this sadness and pain. It's living a life of its own.”
“I look adorable. I take off my glasses and smile softly. My eyes are very nice right now. Clear as a blue, blue sky. Maybe it's because I gazed at that beautiful evening sky for so long. Hooray.”
“Mother must be awfully lonely too. Not long ago she gave me a little talking-to. ‘From here on in,’ she said, ‘there's nothing for me to enjoy in life. Even watching you grow up — to be completely honest, I don't really take much pleasure in it anymore. Forgive me. You must understand: it's natural and proper that I have no real happiness, now that your father's gone.’”
“No matter how much I try to console her and talk with her, it's not the same, I'm not Father. The love between husband and wife must be the strongest bond in the world, stronger and more precious than even the love that blood relatives feel.”
“I want to be a good daughter, just the kind of girl she'd like me to be, but I don't like the idea of trying to please her in such queer ways. It would be best if I didn't have to do or say anything, if she would just understand me and trust me.”
“Mother, I'm an adult now. I already know all about the world, and people. Feel free to talk to me about anything, anything at all.”
“All right, that's overstating things a bit, but since I'm incapable of making anything really delicious, the least I can do is serve up something that's so attractive to the eye that the guests are dazzled into thinking it's actually tasty. Appearances come first in serving up a meal. You can get away with just about anything if it looks good.”
“Mother, there's no need to go out of your way to align yourself with people like this. Mother isn't Mother when she has guests. She's just this weak-willed woman. Mother, you don't have to kowtow to anyone simply because Father's gone.”
“I have to admit I envy people who never doubt themselves and spend their whole lives among others who are equally meek and gentle and warm. As far as hardship goes, if you can get through your life without experiencing it, so much the better; there's no need to go out of your way to seek hardship.”
“I often think I'd never be able to make it in prison. I know that's a funny thought, but it's true. Prison? I couldn't even make it as someone's maid.”
“Once you've made up your mind to devote yourself to someone until death, then no matter how much you toil and suffer, you're bound to feel that life is worth living, that there's always hope. It's only natural.”
“I get so discombobulated when the laundry piles up, it's as if I'm on the verge of hysteria. I feel I'll die if I don't get the washing done. And once I've washed every last item and hung everything up to dry, I feel that if I WERE to die now, at least I could rest in peace.”
“If I want to study, I have all the time in the world to do so; but if I decide to be selfish and immoral, my most extravagant desires might be fulfilled. What a help it would be for my state of mind if someone were to put limits on what I could do.”
“I read in some magazine that there's just one thing soldiers on the front crave: a good night's sleep. I sympathize with the soldiers, but this made me envious of them as well.”
“Imagine losing your sight when you're so young. What would it be on a quiet night like this, alone in your room?”
“What an unbearable thought. It's so disturbing the way my body goes on changing all by itself, completely independent of my feelings. I can't stand it. It's sad to see myself becoming an adult right before my eyes and knowing I can't do anything about it.”
“Somehow the stars are weighing on my mind tonight, and after my bath I step out into the garden. It's as if it's raining stars.”
“It smells so good. With that fragrance in the air, no unclean thoughts or feelings can get to me, even as I sit here alone and bored. I bought the lily yesterday evening, on my way back from taking a walk near the station, and since then it's as if my room is a different room altogether.”
“Lately I've got into this strange habit of doing the laundry when it's nearly midnight. It seems a pity to waste time washing clothes during the day, but maybe I'm the one who's got things backwards.”
“No one really understands how we suffer. One day when we're adults, we may come to recall this suffering, this misery, as silly and laughable, but how are we to get through the long, hateful period until then?”
“By no means are we blind to the future, by no means do we live only for the moment, but to point at some mountain far off in the distance and tell us that everything will be clear once we get to the top of it, that there's a wonderful view up there... Well, we know it's exactly as you say; we don't doubt your words for a monent. But what about this fierce misery inside us right now?”
“I feel relieved, refreshed. I feel as though my heart has become transparent to the core; I enter a state of what you might call sublime nihilism.”
“Tomorrow, no doubt, will be another day just like today. Happiness will never come. I know that. But as you're going to sleep, it's probably better to believe that it will, that it'll be here tomorrow.”
“Falling asleep is a strange sensation. It's as if something heavy hangs by a string from your head, like a big carp or eel at the end of a fishing line, pulling you down.”
“Good night. I'm a Cinderella without a prince. You don't know where in Tokyo I am, do you? We won't meet again.”
“My sister, not knowing how close to death she was, remained in relatively good spirits, and though she was confined to bed day and night, she cheerfully sang songs and joked and laughed as she let me spoil her, and whenever I reflected that she had only thirty or forty days to live, that this was a medical certainty, it was as if my entire body were being pierced by needles, and I thought I would go mad with the pain.”
“The sensation was, perhaps, like being struck by lighting, and I stood bolt upright with the shock. My sister's romance had not been purely platonic — it had progressed to more detestable things.”
“There is nothing I can do to help you. All I have to give you are words. My words contain not the slightest shadow of falsehood, but they are, nonetheless, only words.”
“But I really wish I'd had a chance to do something bold and reckless with a gentleman friend. I would have liked someone to hold me tightly in his arms. Not only have I never had a lover, I've never even talked with a man — outside of our immediate circle, I mean. You haven't either, have you? That was our mistake. We were too sensible.”
“There is a God, there really is. I was sure of it then.”
“The world goes dark around me, and I feel as if I've been plunged into a vision of Hell. From this moment on, I'm no longer the person I was. In fact, I'm no longer sure I'm a person at all.”
“My husband has always refused to admit to any flaws in my decidedly unattractive face. He's never mentioned, even in jest, any of its comically odd features but has in fact looked at me with all the crystal clarity of a blue sky and said: ‘I think it's a good face. I like it.’”
“I was strangely drawn to the design, and once I'd finished school I used the products of that cosmetics firm exclusively; I was, so to speak, a fan. But I never once wondered about the designer of the rambling rose. Rather thoughtless of me, I suppose, but I'm not the only one: nobody who looks at those beautiful newspaper layouts, for example, ever wonders who the designer is. He's like a shadow warrior, an unsung hero.”
“Once you pass out, you're in dreamland. You ascend to heaven and cleanly escape all suffering. And if you die, that's all right too.
“God has gone too far this time. It's not as if there aren't any number of illnesses He might have chosen; the thing I dreaded most has happened to me. It's like hitting the little golden bullseye with one shot, dropping me straight into the pit I fear most. It's just baffling to me how this could happen.”
“It's so far beyond the pale that part of me just wants to laugh hysterically. Ogre. Demon. I'm not a human being. Let me just die like this.”
“It's physically painful; is this what they call jealousy? If so, jealousy is a madness of the flesh, with no way out. It's a dark and hideous thing, without an iota of beauty about it. I guess this world contains deeper levels of hell than I ever expected.”
“Never put your faith in the human heart.”
“I knew I didn't deserve all this praise; and what would happen the next time I wrote something mediocre or worse? Everyone would laugh at me, and it worried me half to death to think how embarrassing and painful that would be.”
“However great a person's talent, without sincerity he or she will never achieve success in any field.”
“I'm no good. I'm definitely stupid, and I'm not even sure who I am anymore.”
“Nippon's supposed to be the land of the rising sun. The furthest east of the Far East. I always thought that Nippon is where the sun rises, and now you're telling me America's to the east of us?”
“For a man with faith, walking in the dark is the same as walking in road daylight.”
“My eyes have seen a hundred, no, a thousand times more snowy scenes than yours have, more than I even care to remember — and prettier ones too. Say what you will, your eyes aren't even in the same league as mine.”
“With every ounce of happiness comes a pound of devilry.”
“My life has changed completely now. It's been transformed into something full of joy and light.”
“As long as we can go on living — that's all that really matters.”
June 17, 2025
why do people keep calling him a misogynist? where is the misogyny? he writes complex and compelling female characters who feel real and intelligent and are so unashamedly ~feeling~.
stand out stories for me were katydid, chiyojo, shame and osan.
stand out stories for me were katydid, chiyojo, shame and osan.
April 29, 2026
2.5/5
April 29, 2025
14 tales in a ‘soliloquies by female narrators’ mostly set in a traditional Japanese household told and explored through a day-to-day premise; from a bittersweet marriage, of one’s affair and relationship concerns to a playful teenage girl adventure and stories of heartbreaks, one’s pride, ambition, on loneliness and survival. Loved Dazai’s melancholic writing tone with its almost bleak during a war time backdrop, so tender and strangely comforting in a way it gets quite addictive to devour most of the stories for its mix of beauty and subtle sadness— appealing much for how it was all narrated by a woman narrator but so intimately well written by a male author.
Favoured most of it and few that memorable much to me— Lantern (a woman in her anxious state of committing theft trying to make sense of her fool act with a list of her witty dramatic reasons), Schoolgirl (a teenage girl’s adventure over the course of one day—read it in another translation edition before and still enjoyed it as much), Skin and Soul (a delicate tale on one’s appreciation of beauty told in an interesting interaction in between a wife and her husband), Osan (a gripping story of a woman who is torn in between her love and knowledge about her husband’s infidelity) and La Femme De Villon (of poverty, disillusionment and survival told through a wife’s POV about her selfish, self-destructive husband).
I liked how some stories layered its theme with a touch of literary related character and premise like in Shame (of humiliation, self-loathing and dignity tale about a young reader and her fav novelist), Chiyojo (a promising young writer who was pushed by her mother and uncle to pursue a writing career) and the titular story; No One Knows (story of friendship and love with an avid reader character).
A raw with emotional subtlety prose and enticing exploration overall. A recommendation if you love a tender relatable-to-life stories with classic lifestyle setting, of personal, moral and selfhood theme.
(Thank you Pansing Distribution for the gifted review copy!)
Favoured most of it and few that memorable much to me— Lantern (a woman in her anxious state of committing theft trying to make sense of her fool act with a list of her witty dramatic reasons), Schoolgirl (a teenage girl’s adventure over the course of one day—read it in another translation edition before and still enjoyed it as much), Skin and Soul (a delicate tale on one’s appreciation of beauty told in an interesting interaction in between a wife and her husband), Osan (a gripping story of a woman who is torn in between her love and knowledge about her husband’s infidelity) and La Femme De Villon (of poverty, disillusionment and survival told through a wife’s POV about her selfish, self-destructive husband).
I liked how some stories layered its theme with a touch of literary related character and premise like in Shame (of humiliation, self-loathing and dignity tale about a young reader and her fav novelist), Chiyojo (a promising young writer who was pushed by her mother and uncle to pursue a writing career) and the titular story; No One Knows (story of friendship and love with an avid reader character).
A raw with emotional subtlety prose and enticing exploration overall. A recommendation if you love a tender relatable-to-life stories with classic lifestyle setting, of personal, moral and selfhood theme.
(Thank you Pansing Distribution for the gifted review copy!)
July 13, 2025
I picked up this book, wondering if I could really enjoy an anthology of female-narrated stories written by a man?
I still have no clear answer, as this book left me with a lot of conflicting feelings. On one hand, I read each story like a feast; I wanted to savor every word, but more often than not, I greedily devoured them whole. On the other hand, I was wondering whether the subtle hints of misogyny
come from cultural differences, the passage of time, or the author's intentional irony. Regardless, I find this book valuable and enjoyable for many of its other qualities, beyond its portrayal of gender equity.
In each story, we get a glimpse of the daily life of Japanese women of different ages and statuses. The IIWW casts its shadow over their routines, but their biggest troubles seem to come from the men surrounding them, not the dark realities of war. The heroines may not feel like traditional strong female leads; instead, their strength comes from putting up with the everyday life with incapable men: alcoholics, cheaters, and unfulfilled poets.
The female narrator's perspective reveals a humble approach to coping with men who drown their demons in sake, take their own lives, or squander their family savings by smuggling, all while harboring silent resentment towards the West. Dazai strips his characters of any privacy, exposing their every thought and deepest darkest secrets to the reader, making them very easy to identify with. Each of the 14 brilliantly written stories is thought-provoking and leaves you with a sense of literary satisfaction.
I still have no clear answer, as this book left me with a lot of conflicting feelings. On one hand, I read each story like a feast; I wanted to savor every word, but more often than not, I greedily devoured them whole. On the other hand, I was wondering whether the subtle hints of misogyny
come from cultural differences, the passage of time, or the author's intentional irony. Regardless, I find this book valuable and enjoyable for many of its other qualities, beyond its portrayal of gender equity.
In each story, we get a glimpse of the daily life of Japanese women of different ages and statuses. The IIWW casts its shadow over their routines, but their biggest troubles seem to come from the men surrounding them, not the dark realities of war. The heroines may not feel like traditional strong female leads; instead, their strength comes from putting up with the everyday life with incapable men: alcoholics, cheaters, and unfulfilled poets.
The female narrator's perspective reveals a humble approach to coping with men who drown their demons in sake, take their own lives, or squander their family savings by smuggling, all while harboring silent resentment towards the West. Dazai strips his characters of any privacy, exposing their every thought and deepest darkest secrets to the reader, making them very easy to identify with. Each of the 14 brilliantly written stories is thought-provoking and leaves you with a sense of literary satisfaction.
December 31, 2025
A lot of these Goodreads reviews say the collection was surprisingly sharp given Dazai’s rampant misogyny. Am I taking crazy pills? Each of the women in this collection seemed to pretty much hate themselves, and I kind of had trouble differentiating them. Maybe I’m not sophisticated enough…
I do enjoy the fact that the husbands of this collection (idiots whose self-importance destroys those around them) seem to resemble Dazai. I also appreciated the implicit commentary he was making about class and gender in post-WWII Japan.
I do enjoy the fact that the husbands of this collection (idiots whose self-importance destroys those around them) seem to resemble Dazai. I also appreciated the implicit commentary he was making about class and gender in post-WWII Japan.
April 12, 2025
I’m always wary when a male author chooses to write from a female character perspective especially an author like dazai. However I find the characters compelling and their torment believable. Quite funny reading about the contempt they feel to various artist men who are just a collective image of himself. Sad he opens the book with preface confessing he finds these stories cringe.
May 22, 2025
This book has so few reviews, I'm kind of proud of myself and also have to bless the taste of the place I found it.
It's a refreshing, somewhat life changing take on first person narration.
I was surprised that the author chose to write a series of short stories with female narrators, but was immediately drawn to the idea.
His portrayal of the women is just that- a portrayal. Each character and story is distinct enough that you don't feel as if you're reading the same thing, but without names, it's hard to pin down exactly what makes them different.
The sublety of Dazai's prose needs to be studied. If words were food, then this would be a fine cuisine restaurant I would want to frequent over and over. But even better than any restaurant. I can't even express it in mundane words. Like I said, it needs to be studied.
It's well-aligned, yet sophisticated enough so as to not be blunt. Some lines and revelations bring tears to your eyes. It's as if he says the deepest things in the lightest way, without any need for buildup, just as part of the character's story.
It's the kind of book you want to carry around, but deceptively heavy, so that you need to concentrate if you want to make a deep dive.
Definitely the best thing I've read this year and my favorite Japanese author (and translator) so far.
It's a refreshing, somewhat life changing take on first person narration.
I was surprised that the author chose to write a series of short stories with female narrators, but was immediately drawn to the idea.
His portrayal of the women is just that- a portrayal. Each character and story is distinct enough that you don't feel as if you're reading the same thing, but without names, it's hard to pin down exactly what makes them different.
The sublety of Dazai's prose needs to be studied. If words were food, then this would be a fine cuisine restaurant I would want to frequent over and over. But even better than any restaurant. I can't even express it in mundane words. Like I said, it needs to be studied.
It's well-aligned, yet sophisticated enough so as to not be blunt. Some lines and revelations bring tears to your eyes. It's as if he says the deepest things in the lightest way, without any need for buildup, just as part of the character's story.
It's the kind of book you want to carry around, but deceptively heavy, so that you need to concentrate if you want to make a deep dive.
Definitely the best thing I've read this year and my favorite Japanese author (and translator) so far.
December 13, 2025
genuinely really liked this collection. they're not all great, but they are all very solid stories, with interesting and compelling characters that seem to both be dazai and speak of him.
schoolgirl, chiyojo, december 8, one snowy night and osan were my favorites. an entertaining lady and waiting are honorable mentions, since the aforementioned short stories—particularly schoolgirl and chiyojo—really stuck with me. i'm hoping to own this & no longer human soon, i really like how dazai writes and explores despair and misery.
there are moments where you get glimpses of misogyny, of course, but overall i would say he writes extremely complex and intriguing female characters, and all of the narrators had something different going on in their lives even if they shared traits with each other (being a mother, a wife, a schoolgirl, etc.)
schoolgirl, chiyojo, december 8, one snowy night and osan were my favorites. an entertaining lady and waiting are honorable mentions, since the aforementioned short stories—particularly schoolgirl and chiyojo—really stuck with me. i'm hoping to own this & no longer human soon, i really like how dazai writes and explores despair and misery.
there are moments where you get glimpses of misogyny, of course, but overall i would say he writes extremely complex and intriguing female characters, and all of the narrators had something different going on in their lives even if they shared traits with each other (being a mother, a wife, a schoolgirl, etc.)
March 5, 2025
It's strange to read a bunch of short stories from the perspective of female protagonists, but all written by a male author (and then translated from Japanese to English). Didn't love the book, but not awful by any means.
December 2, 2025
“Tomorrow, no doubt, will be another day just like today. Happiness will never come. I know that. But when you’re going to sleep, it’s probably better to believe that it will, that it’ll be here tomorrow.”
April 28, 2025
4 stars
Osamu Dazai just hits for me for some reason, almost in a similar way to John Steinbeck
Osamu Dazai just hits for me for some reason, almost in a similar way to John Steinbeck
June 16, 2025
Четиринайсет истории, разказани от женска гледна точка, в които Дадзай - с типичния си цинизъм и унищожителна ирония - отново се захваща с натиска на обществото върху индивида. Самият Дадзай не е особено горд с тях или поне с деветте, които публикува заради положителния отклик на читателите в сборник със заглавие Women. Към това издание са включени още пет.
Отначало нещата тръгнаха наистина зле и бях напълно склонна да се съглася със собствените му думи, че опитите му да наподоби женски глас са "нескопосани". Ако не бях чела No Longer Human и му нямах пълно доверие, сигурно щях да се откажа. За щастие, продължих и стигнах до доста силна поредица, а като теглим чертата - повече от половината разкази се оказаха много добри. Само погледнете началото на La Femme de Villon:
"Будя се посред нощ от тропота при отварянето на външната врата. Знам обаче, че е само мъжът ми, който се прибира пиян, и просто си лежа тихо в леглото." (прев. мой)
...
В тях говорят жени, напълно интериоризирали обществената догма, че съществуват, за да служат на другите и особено на мъже, за които прототип явно е самият Дадзай - беден писател, негоден за военна служба, безполезен вкъщи и отдаден на пороци.
Най-любимият ми е може би Shame, където благочестива гражданка хуква да спасява някакъв пропаднал според нея писател, само за да установи, че нищо му няма, и това я хвърля в имиджова криза. А ние остава да се чудим кой е по-големият лицемер - той, симулирайки окаяност, или тя, симулирайки добродетел, все за едно и също - одобрението на публиката.
Следват:
December 8 - за майка с малко дете и безполезен съпруг в началото на войната за Япония, чието чувство на несигурност я кара да изпадне в дива омраза към врага;
La Femme de Villon, най-бруталният, където една жена изтърпява такива невероятни унижения, че й остава само биологичното съществуване;
Osan - за жена, която е толкова зависима от съпруга си, че предпочита да го предостави на друга, стига настроението му да не страда;
An Еntertaining Lady, където някаква уж "привилигирована" особа, всъщност самотна вдовица, буквално се саморазрушава заради неспособността си да казва "не" на всякакви екстремни състезатели в жертвеническата олимпиада - супер актуално.
Естествено, историите носят белезите на местната култура и историческия момент, но са абсолютно разпознаваеми и днес. Някои биха ги нарекли феминистични, но за щастие, вместо обичайната напоследък идеологическа чистота, тук се открива сериозна доза амбивалентност. Така имаме възможност да разберем и да съчувстваме на причините, довели до изключително лично страдание, но и да видим как, като се премине прага на търпимост, то прерства в противоречия, морален разпад и дори разрушителност. Това, естествено, не отменя критиката към опресията на жените, напротив, показва логичния резултат от това да притиснеш някого в ъгъла.
Или както обичам да казвам - извинявай, че не съм образцовата жертва. Ама не.
Отначало нещата тръгнаха наистина зле и бях напълно склонна да се съглася със собствените му думи, че опитите му да наподоби женски глас са "нескопосани". Ако не бях чела No Longer Human и му нямах пълно доверие, сигурно щях да се откажа. За щастие, продължих и стигнах до доста силна поредица, а като теглим чертата - повече от половината разкази се оказаха много добри. Само погледнете началото на La Femme de Villon:
"Будя се посред нощ от тропота при отварянето на външната врата. Знам обаче, че е само мъжът ми, който се прибира пиян, и просто си лежа тихо в леглото." (прев. мой)
...
В тях говорят жени, напълно интериоризирали обществената догма, че съществуват, за да служат на другите и особено на мъже, за които прототип явно е самият Дадзай - беден писател, негоден за военна служба, безполезен вкъщи и отдаден на пороци.
Най-любимият ми е може би Shame, където благочестива гражданка хуква да спасява някакъв пропаднал според нея писател, само за да установи, че нищо му няма, и това я хвърля в имиджова криза. А ние остава да се чудим кой е по-големият лицемер - той, симулирайки окаяност, или тя, симулирайки добродетел, все за едно и също - одобрението на публиката.
Следват:
December 8 - за майка с малко дете и безполезен съпруг в началото на войната за Япония, чието чувство на несигурност я кара да изпадне в дива омраза към врага;
La Femme de Villon, най-бруталният, където една жена изтърпява такива невероятни унижения, че й остава само биологичното съществуване;
Osan - за жена, която е толкова зависима от съпруга си, че предпочита да го предостави на друга, стига настроението му да не страда;
An Еntertaining Lady, където някаква уж "привилигирована" особа, всъщност самотна вдовица, буквално се саморазрушава заради неспособността си да казва "не" на всякакви екстремни състезатели в жертвеническата олимпиада - супер актуално.
Естествено, историите носят белезите на местната култура и историческия момент, но са абсолютно разпознаваеми и днес. Някои биха ги нарекли феминистични, но за щастие, вместо обичайната напоследък идеологическа чистота, тук се открива сериозна доза амбивалентност. Така имаме възможност да разберем и да съчувстваме на причините, довели до изключително лично страдание, но и да видим как, като се премине прага на търпимост, то прерства в противоречия, морален разпад и дори разрушителност. Това, естествено, не отменя критиката към опресията на жените, напротив, показва логичния резултат от това да притиснеш някого в ъгъла.
Или както обичам да казвам - извинявай, че не съм образцовата жертва. Ама не.
May 19, 2025
For someone who is well known for his misogyny, Dazai Osamu is weirdly good at writing compelling female characters. No One Knows is a 14 short-story collection that involves female-centric narrators, each written in a quietly devastating but strangely beautiful manner. These short stories prove Dazai's rich writing style, in a way he is able to capture the quiet chaos of being human whether it involves shameful, unfiltered thoughts or being miserable, including things that they wish to keep hidden. From a young girl who had to bear the burden of the weight of shame after get caught stealing, an adventurous day in the life of a schoolgirl trying to navigate the complexities of being a girl and her grieving, an older sister's love toward her sick younger sister, a wife who breaks out in skin rashes and starts having uneasy thoughts on her marriage and beauty, a talented young writer who faces pressure from her uncle and her mother to pursue a literary career, a devoted wife who discovers her husband's infidelity, a wife who lives happily and comfortably in their poor life and starts to resent her husband's sudden success and more.
I feel like most of the stories, especially one that includes most of the self-hatred and loathing sentiment, are a disguise of Dazai’s own thoughts and outlook on life, making the character seem like a different version of the same man. Maybe that's why these short stories feel intimate, as they're not crafted to impress but instead to show the harshness of being human, of a life that either feels fortunate, challenging or painfully unfair. I appreciate how each of the women carries their guilt, shame and pain differently, but you can see the quiet strength and resilience in them. It is strange how he is able to write them with so much empathy and tenderness. My favorites (mostly memorable for me) are Schoolgirl, Cherry Leaves and the Whistler, Skin and Soul, Shame, Waiting, One Snowy Night and Osan. 4.5 ⭐️ Thank you @definitelybooks for the review copy.
I feel like most of the stories, especially one that includes most of the self-hatred and loathing sentiment, are a disguise of Dazai’s own thoughts and outlook on life, making the character seem like a different version of the same man. Maybe that's why these short stories feel intimate, as they're not crafted to impress but instead to show the harshness of being human, of a life that either feels fortunate, challenging or painfully unfair. I appreciate how each of the women carries their guilt, shame and pain differently, but you can see the quiet strength and resilience in them. It is strange how he is able to write them with so much empathy and tenderness. My favorites (mostly memorable for me) are Schoolgirl, Cherry Leaves and the Whistler, Skin and Soul, Shame, Waiting, One Snowy Night and Osan. 4.5 ⭐️ Thank you @definitelybooks for the review copy.
May 13, 2025
Un livre qui me fait hésiter à le critiquer de par son sujet et le sentiment de non légitimité qu'il me provoque : No One Knows est un recueil d'histoires courtes de Dazai, écrites entre 1937 et 1948 (c'est important) et ayant pour particularité de ne proposer que des récits de femmes.
Je trouve que Dazai, à travers ces différentes histoires courtes, aborde de façon aussi intéressante que terrifiante la place des femmes dans la société japonaise de la moitié du siècle dernier (qui n'a pas tant vieillit que ça...). On y retrouve des personnages complexes, menant des vies différentes (mais qui se répondent parfois) avec leurs réflexions propres, parfois poussées à l'extrême. Ce n'est pas toujours très fin, on sent une certaine misogynie de fond propre à son époque, mais en même temps des pistes de réflexions étonnantes pour des récits écrit par un homme dans les années 40.
J'ai aussi trouvé très intéressant de sentir la différence de ton entre les récits datant d'avant et d'après la guerre. On sent que l'ambiance générale est bien plus morose, les thèmes abordés plus marqués par cette défaite et ce qui en a découlé pour le Japon.
En bref une lecture intéressante, pas toujours très juste, qui a parfois mal vieillit mais qui impressionne tout de même par la faculté de Dazai à capter le lecteur très rapidement et l'entraîner dans les tréfonds de l'âme de ses personnages, ceux-ci reflétants un monde qui semble terrifier autant qu'il fascine leur auteur.
Je trouve que Dazai, à travers ces différentes histoires courtes, aborde de façon aussi intéressante que terrifiante la place des femmes dans la société japonaise de la moitié du siècle dernier (qui n'a pas tant vieillit que ça...). On y retrouve des personnages complexes, menant des vies différentes (mais qui se répondent parfois) avec leurs réflexions propres, parfois poussées à l'extrême. Ce n'est pas toujours très fin, on sent une certaine misogynie de fond propre à son époque, mais en même temps des pistes de réflexions étonnantes pour des récits écrit par un homme dans les années 40.
J'ai aussi trouvé très intéressant de sentir la différence de ton entre les récits datant d'avant et d'après la guerre. On sent que l'ambiance générale est bien plus morose, les thèmes abordés plus marqués par cette défaite et ce qui en a découlé pour le Japon.
En bref une lecture intéressante, pas toujours très juste, qui a parfois mal vieillit mais qui impressionne tout de même par la faculté de Dazai à capter le lecteur très rapidement et l'entraîner dans les tréfonds de l'âme de ses personnages, ceux-ci reflétants un monde qui semble terrifier autant qu'il fascine leur auteur.
May 29, 2025
14 short stories, all ostensibly with female narrators, but Dazai is very clearly either the person who is narrating most of these stories, or the stories center around how women view him. Some great stories here, the true highlight is "Schoolgirl", but a few others were also very good, with most being rather strong. The longest stories were definitely way too long, though.
If you want a lighter hearted Dazai short story collection, this is preferable to Self Portraits. If you're looking for more of his 1940s stories that center around WW2 and life in war-torn Japan, while that is here, you'll get more of it and more deeply in Self Portraits.
If you want a lighter hearted Dazai short story collection, this is preferable to Self Portraits. If you're looking for more of his 1940s stories that center around WW2 and life in war-torn Japan, while that is here, you'll get more of it and more deeply in Self Portraits.
March 17, 2026
The first half of this book was absolutely fantastic, I loved so many of the stories, however the second half with the longer stories just didn't feel the same. I enjoyed a lot of the philosophy and honestly am surprised Dazai could interpet feelings from the opposite sex so well, some parts hit home. Whilst the end of the book began to drag, I really did love the first half and will easily reread them again in the future!
June 15, 2025
I loved the narrative switch from his other books which gave a breath of fresh air. It felt nice taking my time in this book compared to others where I try to finish it quickly. I felt myself scouring/savoring each story and enjoying each unique experience that they gave me.
January 22, 2026
enjoyed this far more then the other short story collection. The setting of most being post ww2 is such an interesting lens to put myself in especially in japan anf a rural setting. Many of the stories end abruptly or in tragedy, yet i found so many of them beautiful simply for the way they observe the world around them.
“my eyes are full of the most beautiful scenery… the things you’ve been looking at remain inside your eyes”
“my eyes are full of the most beautiful scenery… the things you’ve been looking at remain inside your eyes”
June 25, 2025
Read this to get a better understanding of the Dazai character in Bungo Stray Dogs (lol), but was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked these short stories and how relatable I found some of the feelings Dazai describes. Definitely will be reading No Longer Human by him at some point.
September 6, 2025
Unhinged male author creates unhinged female characters… yields a surprisingly good collection of stories.
November 8, 2025
Wow
4.5 ⭐️
4.5 ⭐️
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January 10, 2026
most I liked, some I didn’t find all too interesting
December 22, 2025
leave it to Dazai to get me out of my reading block
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