Dazai Osamu - No Longer Human

This morning I finished reading 'No Longer Human' by Dazai Osamu. It's had a great, mind shattering impact on me and I'd like to strongly recommend it.

It affected me in ways that I -thought- other books had already affected me. But -this- is what it feels like to be truly affected by a book, film, anything. Whatever feelings I've felt at the hands of any other story, no matter the medium, PALES in comparison to the utter clarity brought to me at the hands of this book.

Certainly I've come upon bits and pieces of myself scattered within various fiction, as have most I suppose. but I have never honestly, fully related myself to another person, fictional or not, as blatantly as Yozo, the protagonist of 'No Longer Human'.

It was quite shocking to me to find my own thoughts and emotions portrayed as such in a 60 year old work of semi-fiction. Of course, my own life experiences so far differ from Yozo's in every way possible but nevertheless I found myself constantly surprised and intrigued by the unmistakeable resemblance in our personalities and character.

Anyone else read it?

Forgive me for being so vague in my original post. I'm not claiming it to be the most brilliant piece of literature ever composed, far from it. I'm definitely biased, as it affected me personally and on a deeper level. I'd still recommend it as a good piece of writing though (and it's short too, I read it in the course of two night-shifts).

Alas, I do not know where you might be able to read it in its entirety online but it's probable that your local library carries a copy.

However, for you, I've typed up an excerpt from pages 78-79 that I found amusing:

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It was a cold autumn night. I was waiting at a sushi stall back of the Ginza for Tsuneko (that, as I recall, was her name, but the memory is too blurred for me to be sure: I am the sort of person who can forget even the name of the woman with whom he attempted suicide) to get off from work.

The sushi I was eating had nothing to recommend it. Why, when I have forgotten her name, should I be able to remember so clearly how bad the sushi tasted? And I can recall with absolute clarity the close-cropped head of the old man -his face was like a snake's- wagging from from side to side as he made the sushi, trying to create the illusion that he was a real expert.

It has happened to me two or three times since that I have seen on the streetcar what seemed to be a familiar face and wondered who it was, only to realize with a start that the person opposite me looked like the old man from the sushi stall.

Now, when her name and even her face are fading from my memory, for me to be able to remember that old man's face so accurately I could draw it, is surely a proof of how bad the sushi was and how it chilled and distressed me.

I should add that even when I have been taken to restaurants famous from sushi I have never enjoyed it much.
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