TOKYO IN THE 13th year of Heisei (2001) bears little resemblance to that of Sōseki's day. Yet some vestiges of his old haunts still remain, as I discovered during a recent visit to Japan. Natsumezaka, the gently sloping road named by Sōseki's father toward the end of the Tokugawa era, is still there. The curio shops and yose halls have, however, been replaced by a Denny's, a gas station and the obligatory convenience store. The site of the Babashita house, Sōseki's birthplace, is now a small office building with a commemorative plaque out front. Nothing remains of the house that the author and his family occupied during his novel-writing years. However, the site, a patch of land within walking distance of Waseda University, has been converted into Sōseki Park. The small, undistinguished neighborhood park—one of 7,000 within Tokyo city limits—is not much to look at. There are a couple of swings, some benches and an outhouse. Near the entrance there is a stone bust of the author, a roosting spot for the local pigeons. Next to it is a bronze plaque with four Chinese characters rendered calligraphically—sokuten kyoshi.
MARVIN MARCUS
August 2001