Kazuo Ishiguro
Fluid world artist
Transl.: Argyro Mantoglu
ed.. Psychogios, page 254

His memory works as they please: painful experiences are hushed up, they are hesitantly inclined to cover up the painful sides of History.

The well-structured novel focuses mainly on the deep psychological trauma of the Japanese who survived World War II and are then called upon to rebuild the destroyed structures of their country. Nagasaki, the birthplace of Nobel laureate Kazuo Ishiguro (b. 1954), whom he left in the United Kingdom a century ago, is the unrecognized, most remote center of discourse. I believe that the author was once again happy in our language thanks to his experienced English-speaking translator. Indeed, the letter and spirit of the original were absolutely respected, which is distinguished, among other things, by the exemplary economy of the choice of expression, as well as the successful use of emotional material.

The protagonist of the book, Masuji Ono, an acclaimed artist now retired from the art scene, represents a Japan of yesteryear that was known to believe in its divine origin. On the contrary, the husbands of his two daughters personify today’s Japan, the Japan of highly rational industrialization. Although the place of birth is systematically improved from many points of view and even from the point of view of the object, but this is not, according to what Masuji Ohno stubbornly believes, the best possible solution after the forced surrender or, as others say, the surrender of the Land of the Future Sun to the USA. Consequently, for a retired artist, the pre-war Japanese military provocation is not the cause and effect of a devastating defeat, but a powerful souvenir of glamour. A clear complex, almost Lefcadio Hearn’s syndrome, dictates, in short, the entire behavior of this apparently romantic visual artist. The spirit of that very Japan, which is forever lost, is his true homeland in the depths of his soul.

And his memory works as they see fit: painful experiences are hushed up, they tend to cover up half-heartedly the painful sides of History, silently replace possible revelations, the credibility of crimes tends to be cancelled. Select page 205 of another novel by Kazuo Ishiguro, the textually flawless Pale View of the Hills, published by the same publisher, says the following, which applies here as well: “Memory, as I find it, can be somewhat unreliable, it is sometimes strongly the circumstances under which one remembers, and, no doubt, the same can be said about some of the memories that I have collected here. In the phases of the narrative, ambiguous contexts are sequentially introduced, aimed at mitigating guilt, meetings of colleagues mostly in the twilight, blurred contours of guilt, photo shades that want to soften the harshness of ideologies. The confused present is ultimately Masuji Ohno’s daily nightmare. There is growing pressure to adapt to the new conditions of social life. Tangible real and imaginary data hardly go hand in hand.

I contend that in 1970, exactly sixteen years before this book was published, Japan’s greatest writer Yukio Mishima publicly committed suicide, denouncing his country’s immediate six-Americanism. Hence the numerous references to autographs in The Artist of the Current World. But its main character does not intend to be taken to extremes. Toward the end of the project, while actually supporting his wider family interests, he will be forced to admit some of his significant mistakes stemming from an unpragmatic attitude towards the surrounding atmosphere. The desire for life prevails over the desire for death. A fluid and therefore misunderstood world has, among other things, the advantage of utility: that is, it accommodates those who dare to make the most subtle adjustments.