Reviews with content warning for Suicide attempt - The Life of a Stupid Man

Perfect on-the-go read, loved pulling this out here and there whenever I had some time to kill. Overall masterfully written.

It took me a moment to get an understanding of what was going on in In a Bamboo Grove, but once I did, I got very invested in the story. Utilised the concept of multiple perspectives in a meaningful way that left me thinking about the case a while after I had finished reading.

Death Register has a very somber feel. The described events from Akuatagawa’s childhood help with not only understanding The Life of a Stupid Man but also with seeing all its influence in Akutagawa’s other writing.

The titular story’s sections are short and sweet, though often of the bitter-variety. The writing paints an elegant yet raw portrayal of regrets and grief, with an adequate glimpses into the happier moments sprinkled in.

Felt like a good introduction to Akutagawa as an author.

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miriamtxrres's review

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emotional reflective fast-paced

Loveable characters? No
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.0

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dilara2912w's review

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dark emotional reflective sad medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

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carly_reads's review

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dark reflective sad

Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

In a Bamboo Grove: 4/5

Death Register: 2.5/5

The Life of a Stupid Man: 4/5

This is hard to rate for several reasons. I do think this man thought women are evil and had a victim complex (regarding women and generally). This was easy to read and I did like some quotes. Minus the misogyny, he did seem progressive for his time?

Ah, what is the life of a human being- a drop of dew, a flash of lightning? This is so sad, so sad.

You gentlemen kill with your power, with your money, and sometimes just with your words: you tell people you’re doing them a favor. True, no blood flows, the man is still alive, but you’ve killed him all the same. I don’t know whose sin is greater- yours or mine.

The higher he flew, the farther below him sank the joys and sorrows of a life bathed in the light of intellect. Dropping ironies and similes upon the shabby towns below, he climbed through the open sky, straight for the sun- as if he’d forgotten about that Ancient Greek who plunged to his death in the ocean when his man-made wings were singed by the sun.

‘You fellows still have a strong will to live, I suppose?’
‘Yes, of course, but you, too…’
‘Not anymore,’ he said. He was telling the truth. At some point he had lost interest in life. ‘I do have the will to create, though.’
‘But surely the will to create is a form of the will to live…?’

He envied medieval men’s ability to find strength in God. But for him, believing in God- in God’s love- was an impossibility, though even Cocteau had done it!

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