A review by nmcannon
A Late Chrysanthemum: Twenty-One Stories from the Japanese by Lane Dunlop

emotional slow-paced

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

4.0

After enjoying Ningen Shikkau, I picked up A Late Chrysanthemum as part of my search for any and all of Dazai Osamu-san’s work. The New York Times recently ran an article (https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/05/books/review/osamu-dazai-tiktok.html)  about how Dazai-san’s work is seeing an uptick in popularity because of the manga Bungo Stray Dogs. Allow me reassure you that the article is 100% correct. While online encyclopedia entries remark that Dazai-san’s fictions are an extreme niche interest outside of Japan, I must fight tooth-and-nail to get anything by him from the library. No Longer Human has twelve holds on it. A Late Chrysanthemum has four of his realistic short stories: “Memories,” “A Golden Picture,” “A Garden Lantern,” and “Chiyojo.” 

Lane Dunlop doesn’t introduce this story collection well or have good biographies of the authors. It was odd to read praise on how diverse this collection’s selection is. Today, “diverse” indicates that the authors come from a variety of ethnic backgrounds and/or are gender minorities. In the 1980s, “diverse” means non-white, as far as I can tell. All the stories are by cishet Japanese men from the same era. How far society has come; how far we have to go in dismantling white supremacy. 

Because of my low tolerance for short stories (a severe character flaw, I know), I restricted myself to reading only Dazai-san’s stories. “Memories” is an account of Dazai-san’s childhood and adolescence. Elsewhere I’d read that crafting “Memories” sparked Dazai-san’s love of writing, so I felt especially lucky to read it. His reminisces are endearing and a little heartbreaking. Of the four fictions, this one was my favorite. 

“A Golden Picture” is about a grown man who is unexpectedly reunited with his childhood maid/nanny, O-kei. Now happily married, O-kei visits him in his bachelor pad and reminisces about his little kid antics and pranks, praising him a good boy. Hearing her enduring love for him, the man is ashamed of how bad he treated O-kei, and he resolves to live better. The narrator’s resolution was a pretty positive note to end on—from my understanding, many of Dazai-san’s protagonists are pathetic wet cat of men, who refuse to change. 

In “A Garden Lantern,” good girl Sakiko recounts what led to her arrest and societal fall from grace. She fell in love with Mizuno, a student who loves to put on airs bigger than his bank account. She was dazzled by his wit and slumming-it sophisticated ways. All was well until Mizuno’s school announced an upcoming field trip to the beach. Ashamed of not owning swim trunks, Mizuno publicly said he wasn’t going and privately complained to Sakiko. She’s not made of money either, but she wants the best for Mizuno, so…she tried to shoplift swim trunks. It didn’t go well. Her reputation is ruined, and worse, Mizuno dumps her to save his reputation. What would be an ordinary story of a “good girl falls for bad boy” is quietly remarkable in Dazai-san’s hands. The ordinariness is part of the story’s remarkability. Mizuno doesn’t have smoldering good looks, a leather jacket, a motorcycle, or tragic backstory to justify his actions. He’s just a jerk. Secondly, the plot is circular: the story begins and ends with Sakiko in a jail cell, bemoaning her fate. There’s no dramatic irony or “if I had known.” She is where she is, and she was always going to end up there if she pursued this asshole. 

The last story, “Chiyojo” hit close to home, as it dwelled on a young writer. In her teens, Kazuko displays remarkable writing talent. Her mother and uncle constantly badger her to practice her writing and publish her work. Being a teen, Kazuko has little interest in a career, preferring to spend her free time with friends. Understandable. Later in life, Kazuko tries her hand at writing again…but feels like her talent has disappeared and what little remains is unremarkable. I’ve honestly never seen a short story so eloquently expose the burden of expectation placed on teenagers before. When I was a teen, there was a huge pressure to mine oneself for commodifiable skills and perform them now now now. I wasn’t super talented like Kazuko, but I vividly remember fretting that I wasn’t any good. 

While A Late Chrysanthemum didn’t make me gush, I enjoyed Dazai-san’s writings. They tickled my intellect, if not my heart. I’m eager for more.