Death Sentences (16 page)

In 1957-

Oscar Dominguez, best known for his "decalomania" and his period of "cosmic objects," committed suicide in Paris.

In 1959-

The greatest of the surrealist poets, on whom Breton had lavished his praise, Benjamin Peret, died in Paris.

Another poet whose talents had won Breton's admiration, Jean-Pierre Duprey, killed himself in Paris in the same year. One day he began suddenly saying that his other self had appeared. He was soon put in a mental hospital. After his release, he completed a manuscript titled "La Fin et la maniere," which he asked his wife to send to Breton, and then hung himself. "La Fin et la maniere" was published six years after his death.

Also in that year-

The surrealist critic, theorist, and artist born in Vienna, Wolfgang Paalen shot himself in the head one stormy night in Mexico City.

A keen reader of contemporary physics, he insisted that it was necessary to explore both the arts and sciences to unlock the secrets of the universe.

It was said that not long before his suicide he told his friends that he hadn't known that the secret of time had been resolved, but now that he knew he could no longer remain in this space-time.

In 1962-

The Swiss-born surrealist painter Kurt Seligmann died of a self-inflicted gun wound. Seligmann, already known for his Ultra-Furniture, had assisted Breton and the other refugee surrealists during the war. After his Ultra-Furniture project, he immersed himself in the study of the occult, and in the months before his death he had laid the groundwork for spiritual techniques of harnessing space-time energies. But before he could bring his experiment to fruition, he passed away.

And then in 1966, Andre Breton died.

The epitaph on his tomb reads-Andre Breton 1896-1966 "I seek the gold of time."

1970-

As if following Breton, Marcel Duchamp died in Neuillysur-Seine on the outskirts of Paris.

In the year after Breton's death, it was said that Duchamp continually repeated the words of Breton's epitaph, "I seek the gold of time."

In 1970, Georges Malkine, an artist known for his deep involvement with surrealism from its beginnings, died. He had all but abandoned painting, but then in 1949, while in America, he found inspiration and revived his career as an artist, continuing to paint until 1966, not long before his death.

And then in 1982-

The American science fiction writer Philip K. Dick, whose otherworldly descriptions were exceedingly close to surrealism, died of a heart attack of unknown origin.

Before his death he had become obsessed with the idea of harnessing the dreadful potentiality latent in the time-travel paradox by means of alchemical transformation and apparently revealed that he finally got his hands on suitable material to do so.

But he died before he could actually begin such work.

1

It was Friday afternoon.

With a red pen, Mishima Keiko was editing the proofs of a column to be carried in a women's magazine. At a workstation along the wall, another temp, a designer, was working on the layout for a special insert called "A Complete Guide to Orgasm" for the same magazine.

Everyone else had cleared out.

All was quiet.

From the headphones strapped over the designer's ears, a faint drumming could be heard.

It must be incredibly loud for him.

With that sort of work, you'd need something to numb your mind.

Sakakibara Koji slugged down the last of his cold instant coffee, snapped shut the book he'd been reading, and stood up.

Mishima Keiko briefly glanced his way and then returned to making red lines.

The fact was-they had time on their hands.

Five people worked in the office, including Sakakibara, the president and chief editor. They took on a temp or two when necessary.

That's all there was to Kirin Publishers.

They had only one regular publication, the Kirin Quarterly MagazineofPoetryandArt. They also published some paperbacks, mostly editions of poetry and criticism in translation.

A major newspaper had once introduced them with the headline "The conscience of the publishing world."

They truly took pride in their work. They put their heart into every volume they handled.

But you can't live on the dictates of conscience alone.

And so they took on side jobs. They did some editorial work for other presses. They did setting for printing.

Their card read, "Planning, editing, publishing, finish work." In other words, they'd do anything.

Their ambitions lay entirely in publishing.

In reality, however, they depended on side jobs for 70 percent of their income.

Six years earlier, Sakakibara had worked in the editorial division of a major publishing house on literary magazines.

He held a degree in French literature.

He had written on Valery for his undergraduate thesis and on Mallarme for his graduate thesis.

Naturally, his interests lay primarily in that area.

Within the editorial division, he focused his efforts on foreign works. In each issue, he introduced literature from another part of the world. He was one of the first to draw attention to Latin American literature.

His efforts had had a definite impact.

But Japanese writers began to complain.

They pointed out that writers received very little for contributing to literary magazines, and so if foreigners took any part of that small share, there would not be enough for Japanese writers.

And so, one day-the senior editor informed him that they were cutting his section.

He argued against this move. At the top of his lungs.

Eventually, the editor-in-chief himself entered the fray.

"One of our distinguished contributors has expressed his concerns over the direction that we have taken with this magazine. And he'll encourage others to withdraw their contributions."

The distinguished contributor had considerable clout in the literary world.

He could indeed put the squeeze on them.

All the more outraged, Sakakibara took on the editor-inchief. The editor-in-chief simply replied, "I understand. I will take your opinion into consideration."

One week later-

Sakakibara received notice of his transfer. His new section was producing an entertainment magazine for teenagers.

The idea was for him to pour his rebellious energy into something more challenging, a magazine with circulation figures twenty times greater than prior magazines.

Sakakibara made a bold decision.

With friends from college, he started his own company, Kirin Publishers.

Six years had passed.

His partner, Kasadera, who started the company with him, was making the rounds of publishers.

Until last month they had had regular work for a weekly magazine, but that had been cut off in the name of updating the look of the magazine, and so he was looking for some work to replace it.

Kojima was out picking up manuscripts. Miyagami had finished his proofreading and was on vacation.

The desks for the five employees formed a cluster in the center of the office.

Against one wall were two workstations for part-time designers. Bookcases lined the other walls. The lower shelves of the bookcases were reserved for cartons full of returned books. The piles of cartons that had accumulated over the years had gradually spilled onto the floor, like a glacier eroding everything in its advance.

Sakakibara stood at the window looking down on Waseda Avenue.

The office was on the third floor of a building near Takadano-baba station.

He watched the endless streams of students flowing into the university below.

(But with so many students out there ...) He thought gloomily. (Still no reason to get our hopes up.)

In any event-even if the numbers were small, they had regular readers. What really mattered in life was to hold to your goals regardless of what others thought.

Even if it meant something as worthless as a "complete illustrated guide to orgasm."

justthen-

The phone rang.

Mishima Keiko picked up.

"Hello, this is Kirin Publishers."

She had wandered into their office four years ago.

She had still been a student at the time. She was a devoted reader of Kirin Quarterly.

Her visits had become more and more frequent.

Sweet and lovable, she soon became a favorite of the editors. Gradually, she began to help with various tasks. She was a college senior. Upon consultation with Kasadera, he made her an offer to work with them. She accepted with enthusiasm.

Despite the low pay, she gave it her all.

(Sometime ..)

Sakakibara thinks a lot about it.

(Sometime ... before Kasadera beats me to the draw ...)

"Boss."

She called for Sakakibara.

"It's a Mr. Tomari from Hakuden Agency-"

"Hakuden Agency?"

Naturally, he knew the name.

It was one of the largest agencies in the advertising industry. Kirin had had no dealings with them.

It couldn't be a request to publish an ad.

If so, they had made a mistake. Kirin never advertised on that scale.

Kirin placed advertisements in newspapers and small magazines targeted for book lovers. Most of these were exchange ads. In exchange for carrying their ad, Kirin gave them similar advertising space.

That largely sufficed.

Even if Kirin placed advertisements in a large national newspaper such as the Asahi, it wouldn't help them move books at all.

It might seem a shame, but things actually worked better that way, because the group of readers who bought their publications was exceedingly limited. They had little to do with the so-called general public.

And so they had no reason to do business with the likes of Hakuden.

Sakakibara took the call nonetheless.

"Hello, this is Sakakibara."

"Hello! My name is Tomari. I work for the Hakuden Agency companies."

"Yes?" He sounded short of breath. But he went on in a somewhat nasal tone. "What can I do for you?"

"Okay! My apologies for calling you out of the blue. You are Mr. Sakakibara, aren't you?"

"This is he."

"Well then, great! We are working on behalf of the Seito distribution group, and right now we're developing plans for an academic business campaign for next year, and-"

The Seito distribution group, that meant the Seito department store chain.

No doubt about it, it was a huge corporation.

They owned a chain of supermarkets and rental units and had recently expanded into the leisure and recreation business.

Business with them seemed even more unlikely.

"Well now-" The agency's representative chattered on energetically, as if eager to make his point. "In the context of this project, we would really like to have your company help us out, and that's why I am calling you today-"

It was not what he had expected.

"By help out, you mean, you want us to work with you?"

"Do you think that would be possible?"

It was quite a combination, Hakuden Agency and Seito. And to be asked was astonishing.

But ... still ... Sakakibara thought there had to be some kind of mistake.

"Well ... you see, we do finish work related to print runs, and that's only for publishers, and so we've not much experience with advertising ..."

Sakakibara spoke frankly.

"Print runs?"

The Hakuden agent gave a short laugh.

"You must be joking. That's not what we're looking for. On this project, we're hoping for your full participation-"

"About this project ..."

"If at all possible, I'd like to meet with you tomorrow to discuss the details-"

"Sure, that would be fine with me."

Come what may, he had nothing to lose by hearing him out. Still ... it didn't entirely make sense to him, and Sakakibara wished to make things perfectly clear.

"Well, we're in the business of publishing, and consequently, we only deal with the material end of things. And so, even after talking with you, I am not entirely sure that we can do anything for you-"

"That's not at all true. As a matter of fact, the request for Kirin to join the project came directly from the head of Seito. If you'll excuse my saying so, we hadn't ever heard of your company before then."