It may have been before the revolution, or maybe after the revolution... no, it wasn't before the revolution. I know it wasn't before the revolution because because I remember a quip of Danchenko's that I happened to hear.

One warm and rainy night I was standing on the balcony of the Imperial Theatre with T, the theatrical director. T was talking to Danchenko, who was holding a soft drink in one hand. I am referring to the flaxen-haired, blind poet Danchenko.(1)

"This is another sign of the times, isn't it? -- that the Grand Opera(2) would come all the way to Tokyo, Japan."

"That's because the Bolsheviks go for tragedy."(3)

This exchange took place on the fifth night from the opening-- the night Carmen was staged. I had lost my head over Yena Bruskaya , who was scheduled to play Carmen. She was a woman with large eyes and a wide nose-- a very sensual presence. I was looking forward, of course, to seeing Yena as Carmen, but when the curtain went up on the first act, it was not Yena taking Carmen's role. It was a somewhat plain actress(4) with blue eyes and a Roman nose. Sitting in a box beside T, both in our tuxedos, I could not help feeling disappointed.

"Carmen isn't our Yena."

"They say Yena is off tonight. The reason is exceedingly romantic."

"What happened?"

"I hear some marquis from the Tsarist days had come following after Yena. But in the meantime Yena had ingratiated herself to an American businessman. When he saw the American, the marquis was crushed. Last night he hanged himself(5) in his hotel room, and died, they say."

A scene came to my mind as I listened. In a hotel room late at night, Yena was playing with cards, surrounded by a number of men and women. She was wearing a red and black gown, and looked like a gypsy fortune teller. Smiling at T, she said, "Tonight I will look into your fate." (Or so I am told. I, who know no Russian beyond "da," had to depend on the translation of T, who is conversant with the languages of twelve countries.) Then she turned up a card and said, "You are luckier than him. You can marry the one you love." This "him" was a Russian talking to someone at Yena's side. Unfortunately I do not remember his face or clothes. I only remember a pink stuck in his lapel. Wasn't the one who hanged himself when he lost Yena's love the "him" of that evening?

"In that case she could hardly appear tonight."

"Should we give it up and step out for a drink?" T was also a Yena fan.

"Let's watch this act first."

It was probably during that intermission that we talked to Dachenko.

We found the next act boring as well. But before we'd been in our seats five minutes, half a dozen foreigners entered the box directly across from us. And standing right in the middle of them was, without question, Yena Bruskaya. Yena sat at the very front of the box, cooling herself with a fan of peacock feathers, and gazed calmly at the stage. Moreover, the men and women with her (one of whom was surely her American boyfriend) were laughing and chatting happily.

"That's Yena."

"Yes, that's Yena."

We didn't leave our box until the final curtain-- until Don Jose had wailed "Carmen! Carmen!" as he embraced her dead body. That is because we were watching Yena Bruskaya rather than the stage. It is because we were watching this Russian Carmen who seemed to give no thought to killing that man.

---

Two or three evenings later I sat across the table from T in a corner of some restaurant.

"Have you noticed that since that evening, Yena has had a bandage on the ring finger of her right hand?"

"There is a bandage, now that you mention it."

"When Yena returned to the hotel that night..."

"Stop-- don't drink that!" I warned T. In the dim light I saw a gold bug squirming on its back in his glass. T poured his white wine on the floor, made a strange face, and went on.

"She broke a dish against the wall, and used pieces of it as castanets. Even when the blood began to run from her finger..."

"She danced like Carmen?"

At that point a white-haired waiter, with a look completely unsuited to our level of excitement, quietly brought over a plate of salmon.

(10 April 1926)

NOTES by Miyoshi Yukio in the 1973 Kadokawa Bunko edition [mostly. jg]

1. Danchenko

A Russian author and journalist named Danchenko came to Japan in 1908, but that is the wrong time period; this is Eroshenko, a blind poet born in Russia. V. Ereshenko (1890-1952), came to Japan in 1915, mixed with Japanese literati, and published works in Japanese. He travelled to Burma and India, and returned to Japan in 1926. However, he was expelled by the Japanese government because of the bad influence of his ideas, and roamed through China, the Soviet Union and Germany.Return

2. Grand Opera

The opera troupe attached to the Russian Imperial Theatre. At this time it was touring foreign countries to escape the turmoil within Russia. [Needless to say, Akutagawa and T were at the Imperial Theatre in Tokyo, not Leningrad. jg]Return

3. go for tragedy

[A pun I couldn't handle. He actually called the Bosheviks kageki-ha, which can mean either 'opera fans' or 'radicals.' jg]Return

4. somewhat plain actress

On the 14th night, Carmen was played by Mlle. Lizontsev.Return

5. hanged himself

Newspapers of the 16th carried articles with headlines like "Russian Suicide at Imperial Hotel-- Rejected by Opera Star." But Akutagawa has fictionalized the event to a great extent.Return

---

Back to Translations Table of Contents