Osamu Dazai (1909–1948)

This was an odd book. Its a good book and I appreciate it, but I'm not sure I "liked" it. Its about a man (loosely based on Dazai, so says the back cover, but the introduction from the translator says no) who all his life is disillusioned by people and feels he is incapable of understanding humans. It starts out as child, thru high school and into his later years, where he takes to alcohol and drugs at the expense of his friends and family. My first thought about the main character, was he's an incel, before there was a word for such a thing. Written in 1948, its still considered one of the top 10 books in Japan. Its a good book, just don't expect an uplifting narrative.

Quotes:
I was frightened even by God. I could not believe in His love, only in His punishment. Faith. That, I felt, was the act of facing the tribunal of justice with one's head bowed to receive the scourge of God. I could believe in hell, but it was impossible for me to believe in the existence of heaven

Her voice was full of tenderness as she explained each of the half-dozen medicines. The affection of this unhappy woman was however to prove too intense. At the last she said, "This is a medicine to be used when you need a drink so badly you can't stand it." She quickly wrapped the little box. It was morphine… (mere)

Not my cup of tea at ALL but very well-written and moving. About the decay (I choose that specifically in lieu of “decline”) of the “aristocracy” in post-WWII Japan, told through the lens of a single family, focusing on a sister and daughter and her relationship to her brother and her mother. A bit too…symbolic…for me (not sure that’s the word) and not the kind of book I usually enjoy but this was too good to ignore. I have another of his and will definitely read it now, but it will take me a little time to work up to it.… (mere)