Date

2022-11-12, Saturday

Distance

0 km biked (1854.73 km in total)

We scheduled a rest day to visit the writer Osamu Dazai (太宰治, 1909 – 1948)’s birthplace in the northern end of the city of Goshogawara. To get to the other side of the prefecture, we took the JR train to Goshogawara station, thence transferred via a local train (津軽鉄道線, Tsugaru Railway) to Kanagi.

The whole trip that took about 1.5 hour was quite a nice experience for a first-timer: the train was not too crowded and the ride smooth. It was just a bit confusing when we had to purchase our tickets for the local train. The booth was so well hidden and there was so few people that we found it at the last 3 minutes.

The scope of Tsugaru Railway is much smaller than JR’s: the vehicle much older and there were only a handful of passengers on board. However, this appears to be a railway of historical significance, as the whole ride was accompanied by a personnel telling us the history of the area we were passing through. This kind of service that helps to grow an intimate bond between the railway and the passengers wouldn’t be available on the nationally-run JR.

The town in which Dazai was born and raised was almost devoid of any sign of human activity, barren at the Osamu Dazai Memorial Hall “Shayokan” that received the majority of out-of-town visitors. Most of buildings were closed, there was hardly anyone or any vehicle on the street. It was hard for me to believe that someone coming from a wealthy background such as Dazai grew up in this quiet town remote from political centre. However, catching sight of the residence his father commissioned to build dispelled any of my lingering doubt.

In one word, the house is truly: sumptuous. It’s built mostly in the traditional Japanese style with a small touch of Westernness. Spacious and bright, the regional residence of a national politician who needed to make frequent visits to and long term stay in Tokyo was designed to receive visitors from the high society. Dazai was born into a world in which everyone believed he must has possessed everything he wanted yet in reality he had nothing but a sense of estrangement, which was so strong that he should say: ‘I am sorry I was born’.

I can now sympathise more with Dazai’s troubled soul, his emotional crisis and anxiety about life, which are so poignantly expressed in his novel No Longer Human (人間失格, 1948). A piece of decadence par excellent, it’s the most gloomy and despairing story I have ever read (even more so than Camus’ The Stranger). I can still recall my first encounter with this work. On one fine evening in June in my youth, wanting to read something that was not too long, I picked up this small book that had been sitting on my shelf for long. A mere first few pages full of expressions of ennui were sufficient for me to wonder who this troubled soul was who should write such despairing things. Then I started to read the author’s biography on the cover and not surprisingly found out that Dazai died by suicide at the fifth attempt. And the day he finally succeeded in taking his life is — guess what — the very same day I picked up No Longer Human. I can’t say to enjoy his writing so much, but it certainly made a strong impression on me.

We also visited the Tsugaru Shamisen Hall next door dedicated to the type of shamisen originating from Tsugaru Peninsula. It offers a live performance played by the professional dressed in traditional way and a small exhibition that consists of visual and auditory items to show the details of this three-stringed instrument. My favourite part is the section showcasing various string instruments around the world together with their sound samples.

We got back to our hotel in Aomori City and found out that someone has left a written encouragement in my helmet. It really is encouraging to receive such message from stranger.

The full take — 97 more photographs from this day