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A review by wolfdan9
Scandal by Shūsaku Endō, Van C. Gessel
4.5
“The potential for salvation is contained within the sin.”
Scandal is a very good novel by Christian Japanese writer Endo. While Christianity does factor into the story, there is (thankfully) no endorsement for it in the novel; instead, Endo considers the pure/good aesthetic of Christianity a counterpoint to the inherently depraved nature of humans. The story is more thematically shallow than a contemporary like Ishiguro’s, but also similarly interested in how memory impacts judgment and self-trust. It’s also not as psychologically deep nor nearly as dark or interesting as Abe’s fiction, yet Endo presents some cool ideas nonetheless.
One interesting idea that is more tangential to the larger key theme of identity is the desire to return to an infantile state. There is some Freudian (and other psychological theory) influence. Endo ponders how aging and death intertwine with sexuality.
The story raises questions about a true inner self. There is a disassociation of our “public” (non-sexual) self from the “true” (sexual) secret self. This disassociation is extreme to the extent of one forgetting about it or not believing the secret self exists. Endo comments on coexisting with these different “faces,” which he shows in extreme form by presenting the main character as a virtuous Christian (the story is a Roman a clef) with repressed dark sexual urges.
Suguro (the main character) hears rumors that he is engaging in untoward sexual activities and even sees a doppelgänger as he investigates. It causes him a lot of anxiety and we see his mind unravel a bit as he secretly hunts down the truth. Interestingly, he never mixes his wife up into his secret affairs — ironic that he’s so puzzled by his rumored sexual exploits when he exhibits a capability to lead a double life.
The narrative alternates between Suguro and the jealous, unsympathetic journalist Kobari. Kobari is the threat that may force Suguro to (openly) reconcile his public and private life. The beautiful young girl Mitsu’s sexual appeal and availability is a test of Suguro’s true character, which he fails by groping her. The climactic scene portrays Suguro as uncontrollable and out of character, which supports Endo’s view that there is a separate version of each of us who animalistically seek out sexual pleasure without regard to consequences (either spiritually or in regard to our personal and professional lives).
Endo concludes that sex brings out a person’s true identity. I suspect that he feels that this is universal, and therefore that all people are inherently evil. The word evil is important because Endo is careful to draw a distinction in the novel between evil and sin, which I appreciate as someone who doesn’t believe in sin. I’m not sure exactly what Endo feels is the prescription to this evil, if anything. He does not assert faith (he seems to actively deny it as a solution to this inherent evil?).
Naruse’s letter - one of the best passages I’ve read in a while. Naruse, who functions as an enabler of Suguro’s worst urges, uncovers the secret of her husband’s horrific war crimes (which is surprising given his goofy and patient disposition). She is immensely aroused during sex by the brutality of his killing women and children. Her arousal reinforces Endo’s theme about sex and true identity being linked, but also highlights the multidimensionality of personality in both Naruse and her husband. What he was capable of despite being a scholarly, normal man reveals something about our identity being based partly on our external environment, although this contrasts with Naruse’s sexual epiphany, which is something subconscious/instinctual. Interestingly, dark sexual urges (and the accompanying desire that reflects one’s true self) is painted as uncontrollable. The outlying factor of spiritual faith and how it may tie in remains a puzzling curiosity.
Scandal is a very good novel by Christian Japanese writer Endo. While Christianity does factor into the story, there is (thankfully) no endorsement for it in the novel; instead, Endo considers the pure/good aesthetic of Christianity a counterpoint to the inherently depraved nature of humans. The story is more thematically shallow than a contemporary like Ishiguro’s, but also similarly interested in how memory impacts judgment and self-trust. It’s also not as psychologically deep nor nearly as dark or interesting as Abe’s fiction, yet Endo presents some cool ideas nonetheless.
One interesting idea that is more tangential to the larger key theme of identity is the desire to return to an infantile state. There is some Freudian (and other psychological theory) influence. Endo ponders how aging and death intertwine with sexuality.
The story raises questions about a true inner self. There is a disassociation of our “public” (non-sexual) self from the “true” (sexual) secret self. This disassociation is extreme to the extent of one forgetting about it or not believing the secret self exists. Endo comments on coexisting with these different “faces,” which he shows in extreme form by presenting the main character as a virtuous Christian (the story is a Roman a clef) with repressed dark sexual urges.
Suguro (the main character) hears rumors that he is engaging in untoward sexual activities and even sees a doppelgänger as he investigates. It causes him a lot of anxiety and we see his mind unravel a bit as he secretly hunts down the truth. Interestingly, he never mixes his wife up into his secret affairs — ironic that he’s so puzzled by his rumored sexual exploits when he exhibits a capability to lead a double life.
The narrative alternates between Suguro and the jealous, unsympathetic journalist Kobari. Kobari is the threat that may force Suguro to (openly) reconcile his public and private life. The beautiful young girl Mitsu’s sexual appeal and availability is a test of Suguro’s true character, which he fails by groping her. The climactic scene portrays Suguro as uncontrollable and out of character, which supports Endo’s view that there is a separate version of each of us who animalistically seek out sexual pleasure without regard to consequences (either spiritually or in regard to our personal and professional lives).
Endo concludes that sex brings out a person’s true identity. I suspect that he feels that this is universal, and therefore that all people are inherently evil. The word evil is important because Endo is careful to draw a distinction in the novel between evil and sin, which I appreciate as someone who doesn’t believe in sin. I’m not sure exactly what Endo feels is the prescription to this evil, if anything. He does not assert faith (he seems to actively deny it as a solution to this inherent evil?).
Naruse’s letter - one of the best passages I’ve read in a while. Naruse, who functions as an enabler of Suguro’s worst urges, uncovers the secret of her husband’s horrific war crimes (which is surprising given his goofy and patient disposition). She is immensely aroused during sex by the brutality of his killing women and children. Her arousal reinforces Endo’s theme about sex and true identity being linked, but also highlights the multidimensionality of personality in both Naruse and her husband. What he was capable of despite being a scholarly, normal man reveals something about our identity being based partly on our external environment, although this contrasts with Naruse’s sexual epiphany, which is something subconscious/instinctual. Interestingly, dark sexual urges (and the accompanying desire that reflects one’s true self) is painted as uncontrollable. The outlying factor of spiritual faith and how it may tie in remains a puzzling curiosity.