Yesterday, after a long time, a friend who graduated from Kyoto University visited my house.
It was a very welcome visit, like a Christmas Eve present.
During our conversation about all things under heaven, we discussed how I came to publish my book.
My book was on the bookshelf.
The cover design was decided upon when I was in Kitano Hospital.
Kitano Hospital is a large hospital equivalent to the Kyoto University Faculty of Medicine.
In the style of "The White Tower," the head of the department and five or six young doctors would go around to each patient's room.
When the publisher sent me several ideas for the cover design, the second round of visits took place.
When I was talking about which one I should choose, one of the young doctors said:
"Kisara-san, would you let me do it? I'm good at this sort of thing."
I immediately left it in his hands.
I told the acquaintance at the beginning of this story that this was the cover.
This morning, while thinking about how grateful I was for yesterday's visit, I turned the pages of my book for the first time in a long time.
I have always felt embarrassed about my books.
That's why I didn't read them that often.
I realized again that this was also a significant loss.
For about a year, my book was on the social science and economics shelf at the main Kinokuniya Umeda store, alongside books by such leading commentators as the late Taichi Sakaiya and Yoichi Takahashi.
The person in charge at Kinokuniya said that although my book was not likely to be a bestseller, it would sell a certain number of copies, so it was displayed on the shelf.
One day, I noticed it had disappeared from the shelf, so I asked the person in charge why.
He replied, "I was confident that it would sell a certain number of copies, but it didn't sell as well as I had expected..."
As readers will know, this was a completely natural result.
The reason is that I am a completely unknown figure in journalism.
What's more, I appeared under the pen name of Akutagawa Kenji, which I had no choice but to do for reasons that my close acquaintances and readers are well aware of.
If I had appeared under my real name, the many acquaintances and friends I have made through business would have bought the book.
I announced in this column on June 1st, 2011, that the book would be published on December 1st.
I wrote an introduction to the book and published it.
At this point, if you searched for "the turntable of civilization," you would find over 20 million hits, with pages 1 to 70 filled with chapters in various languages from this column.
However, the criminal in question created over 100 blogs on each blog management company, such as "driving agency" and "secretarial agency," and began a crime of reverse SEO attack against this column.
After writing blogs with stupid and incoherent content, they posted blogs that published each chapter of this column without permission.
They filled up pages 1 to 10 of the search results with such things.
Immediately, the number of searches for this column dropped sharply to 1/100.
Furthermore, this criminal started committing outrageous crimes on Twitter, such as saying things like "Kisara-san, the vicious writer who is also known as Akutagawa Kenji" and "Kisara-san, the vicious real estate agent who is also known as Akutagawa Kenji."
Simply put, a genuine Japanese sweets shop was in the corner of a completely unknown shopping district.
It is the age of the Internet.
Everyone has a smartphone.
If a criminal like this were to write slanderous comments such as "the ingredients in that shop are made from ○○," that Japanese sweets shop would go bankrupt instantly.
I was made keenly aware of this when I re-read this book.
As the person in charge at Kinokuniya Umeda Main Store saw, this book is a masterpiece.
The fact that this masterpiece was buried by the criminal in question is an unforgivable crime against the world and humanity in the 21st century.
It was a very welcome visit, like a Christmas Eve present.
During our conversation about all things under heaven, we discussed how I came to publish my book.
My book was on the bookshelf.
The cover design was decided upon when I was in Kitano Hospital.
Kitano Hospital is a large hospital equivalent to the Kyoto University Faculty of Medicine.
In the style of "The White Tower," the head of the department and five or six young doctors would go around to each patient's room.
When the publisher sent me several ideas for the cover design, the second round of visits took place.
When I was talking about which one I should choose, one of the young doctors said:
"Kisara-san, would you let me do it? I'm good at this sort of thing."
I immediately left it in his hands.
I told the acquaintance at the beginning of this story that this was the cover.
This morning, while thinking about how grateful I was for yesterday's visit, I turned the pages of my book for the first time in a long time.
I have always felt embarrassed about my books.
That's why I didn't read them that often.
I realized again that this was also a significant loss.
For about a year, my book was on the social science and economics shelf at the main Kinokuniya Umeda store, alongside books by such leading commentators as the late Taichi Sakaiya and Yoichi Takahashi.
The person in charge at Kinokuniya said that although my book was not likely to be a bestseller, it would sell a certain number of copies, so it was displayed on the shelf.
One day, I noticed it had disappeared from the shelf, so I asked the person in charge why.
He replied, "I was confident that it would sell a certain number of copies, but it didn't sell as well as I had expected..."
As readers will know, this was a completely natural result.
The reason is that I am a completely unknown figure in journalism.
What's more, I appeared under the pen name of Akutagawa Kenji, which I had no choice but to do for reasons that my close acquaintances and readers are well aware of.
If I had appeared under my real name, the many acquaintances and friends I have made through business would have bought the book.
I announced in this column on June 1st, 2011, that the book would be published on December 1st.
I wrote an introduction to the book and published it.
At this point, if you searched for "the turntable of civilization," you would find over 20 million hits, with pages 1 to 70 filled with chapters in various languages from this column.
However, the criminal in question created over 100 blogs on each blog management company, such as "driving agency" and "secretarial agency," and began a crime of reverse SEO attack against this column.
After writing blogs with stupid and incoherent content, they posted blogs that published each chapter of this column without permission.
They filled up pages 1 to 10 of the search results with such things.
Immediately, the number of searches for this column dropped sharply to 1/100.
Furthermore, this criminal started committing outrageous crimes on Twitter, such as saying things like "Kisara-san, the vicious writer who is also known as Akutagawa Kenji" and "Kisara-san, the vicious real estate agent who is also known as Akutagawa Kenji."
Simply put, a genuine Japanese sweets shop was in the corner of a completely unknown shopping district.
It is the age of the Internet.
Everyone has a smartphone.
If a criminal like this were to write slanderous comments such as "the ingredients in that shop are made from ○○," that Japanese sweets shop would go bankrupt instantly.
I was made keenly aware of this when I re-read this book.
As the person in charge at Kinokuniya Umeda Main Store saw, this book is a masterpiece.
The fact that this masterpiece was buried by the criminal in question is an unforgivable crime against the world and humanity in the 21st century.
To Nijo Castle in Kyoto 2011/3/17
If I look out of the window now, I can only say that snow is rare in Osaka.
On March 13th, a duck was crouching in the shade of a rock in the garden created by Kobori Enshu at Nijo Castle in a way I had never seen in any other garden before, but I think it was still the mother.
Yes.
Mr. Ieyasu said that I would appear when you pressed the shutter button.
Mr. Kukai said that he had Shōbōgenzō with you at Daigoji Temple.
Mr.Hideyoshi said you shook the forest, met us, and stood there crying forever.
At that time, you must have found a place to return to.
I was the one who gave birth to you, but you must have realized that the place you came from was also there.
Mr.Ieyasu came to greet me, saying that you would definitely come to Nijo Castle on the 13th, so come.
He told me to hide my face so no one would see me until you arrived.
That's why I was hiding my face behind the rock and waiting for you to arrive.
He said that you would notice me and press the shutter button.
Your son and the birds and carp all over Kyoto have become best friends, so he will definitely notice you and press the shutter.
At that time, you should appear.
Right now, Ieyasu, Hideyoshi, and Nobunaga look after you like guardian deities, but we, the sea of Yuriage and the mountains of my hometown in Gunma, also protect you.
Write everything down.
Keep writing.
You don't need to hold back.
You have done something that no one else in this country or my children could do.
Don't hold back from anyone or anything.
When you want to be angry, be angry.
When you want to cry, cry.
When you want to sing, sing.
Speaking of singing, the songs you sang on behalf of the graduating class at your junior high school graduation ceremony - "Hamachidori," "Jogashima no Ame," and "Miagete Goran Yoru no Hoshi wo" - were terrific.
I was a little embarrassed because it was the first time I'd heard you sing.
Your childhood friend, Mr. XXX's mother, and everyone else were all impressed, saying, "I'm surprised that Mikio-san could sing so well."
If I could play the piano, you would have become a singer.
I'm sorry.
I couldn't do anything for you.
I was busy just carrying that big, heavy fish basket on my back and supporting the eight of you.
It's okay, Mother.
I'll see you again in Kyoto on the 21st.
I'm going to Kyoto to see you.
2024/12/2 in Kyoto
