Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

Chapter 81 Kitahara Iwa, third in line!

As the release date of the special edition drew near, the illusion of being fed by the unusual silence of the "Literature" editorial department finally swelled to its peak.

The Kyoto School writers could no longer contain their ecstatic joy at wanting to nail Kitahara Iwa to the pillar of shame.

In their view, Kitahara Iwa is now a drowning dog, and whoever steps on him can gain a good reputation for defending tradition in the world of pure literature.

Therefore, as a key figure in both the conservative and Kyoto factions, Nijo Tadashi decided to personally step forward and, as a senior figure in the literary world, thoroughly nail Kitahara Iwa to the pillar of shame.

In his bestselling literary column in the Sankei Shimbun, he published an essay titled "The Noise of the Times and the Bottom Line of Literature" in a hypocritical tone of compassion.

The article is almost a direct attack on Kitahara Iwa: "I heard that Kitahara-kun submitted his manuscript a while ago, but there has been no news since."

"Given the consistently rigorous aesthetic standards of 'Literature and Art,' Kitahara Iwa's article, which was full of bloodshed and commercial gimmicks, had probably already been completely altered by the editors in red pen and ordered to be rewritten seven or eight times."

Ultimately, popular literature is not good enough for highbrow art.

"I would like to advise all young writers to humbly accept the guidance of senior editors."

"After all, the depth of pure literature can never be achieved by piling up corpses and sensationalism."

As soon as this veiled article was published, the entire conservative camp reacted as if it were a festival, jumping out to celebrate in major newspapers.

Within this somewhat closed circle, they frantically flattered each other, even picturing in their minds the pathetic sight of Kitahara Iwak scratching his head and weeping bitterly as he faced the returned, tattered manuscript.

Moreover, while criticizing Kitahara Iwa, conservative writers took the opportunity to launch a deification campaign against Nijo Tadashi in various literary supplements.

Because there were already reliable rumors circulating within the literary community, Tadashi Nijo's short literary work, which he submitted to "Bungei" magazine, had been placed fifth in the upcoming special issue by the editorial department.

In the extremely strict layout politics of traditional literary journals, the top five positions are the absolute core of the page, symbolizing the author's unshakeable status in the literary world.

As a result, all sorts of extremely nauseating praises, yet packaged in a highly academic manner, began to be reported everywhere.

In his column, an emeritus professor from Kyoto University praised Nijo-sensei, citing numerous sources: "Nijō-sensei firmly holds the fifth position in the special issue. This is not only a testament to his personal writing skills, but also a declaration by Bungei-jō to the outside world that the bottom line of pure Japanese literature is still being protected by a true pillar of strength."

"This is a great victory for orthodox literature over commercial noise."

Another veteran literary critic echoed this sentiment in the Yomiuri Shimbun, saying, "In this restless era, Mr. Nijo's article is like a resounding bell."

"The fifth page is enough to firmly suppress those bestselling writers who try to grab attention with vulgar gimmicks, keeping them outside the threshold of the literary hall of fame."

"Today, Mr. Nijo is already a backbone of the literary world."

After lavishly praising Nijō Tadashi to the status of a god, these articles often conclude by uniformly kicking Kitahara Iwao in the foot.

"As for that Kitahara Iwa—"

"Even if he manages to completely revise the money-grubbing original manuscript and barely manages to get a chance to publish it, it will probably only be tucked into the last few pages of the magazine, serving as a stepping stone for Mr. Nijo to make people laugh."

The Kyoto faction's undisguised arrogance and prejudice quickly reached the editorial office of the literary magazine "Bungei" in Chiyoda Ward.

The deputy editor looked at the article mocking Tadashi Nijo published in his hand, and the Sankei Shimbun filled with praise for the fifth-ranked newspaper. His chest heaved slightly with a sense of absurdity.

He then strode over to the old editor-in-chief's desk and handed the newspaper to him.

"Editor-in-chief, look at Mr. Nijo—"

The deputy editor sneered and tapped the endless effusive praise on the newspaper with his finger, saying, "This is really overshadowing the main point."

"The special edition hasn't even been printed yet, but he's already throwing himself a celebration party in the newspaper."

The old editor-in-chief sat behind his desk, picked up his teacup, and blew on the steam on the water's surface expressionlessly, a hint of melancholy in his expression.

To be honest, he had no interest in the factionalism and infighting among intellectuals.

But what truly displeased him was Nijo Tadashi's grandstanding and his overreaching and arrogant attempt to use media opinion to hijack the publication rights of "Bungei".

When did it become the author's place to arbitrarily decide the layout order of "Literature and Art"?

The old editor-in-chief drank it down in one gulp, then stood up without a word and walked straight to the special edition layout board in the center of the office.

At this moment, Nijo Tadashi's name was displayed in the fifth slot, as if it were his rightful throne.

"Since Mr. Nijo is so eager to assert his status, even going so far as to publish an advertisement in the newspaper—"

The senior editor-in-chief said slowly, "Then we'll grant him this one wish. We'll move his article forward and give it fourth place."

Upon hearing this, the deputy editor-in-chief was stunned for a moment, then looked at the senior editor-in-chief with a look of astonishment.

He originally thought that, faced with Nijo Tadashi's arrogant act of trying to hijack the magazine's layout rights, the old editor-in-chief would simply kick Nijo Tadashi's article to the very end of the special corner as punishment.

But who would have thought that the old editor-in-chief not only wasn't angry, but even wanted to promote him?

What kind of operation is this?

Before the deputy editor could voice his doubts, the senior editor's red pen had already landed steadily on the whiteboard.

In the third slot before the fourth pick, Kitahara Iwa's name was written heavily.

"Then----"

After finishing writing, the senior editor casually tossed the marker back into the pen holder and continued, "Bring up Kitahara Iwao's 'Love Letter,' which he hasn't changed a single word. Put it in third place."

Looking at the two names side by side on the whiteboard, the deputy editor-in-chief's pupils contracted slightly, and he gasped sharply.

Third in line.

In the thick pages of a pure literary journal, this is almost the absolute core area that readers encounter when they are most focused and least alert, after having read the works of the two leading figures.

Looking at the two names side by side on the whiteboard, the senior editor nodded in satisfaction: "Human emotions have their limits."

"When readers are overwhelmed by the intense and genuine sorrow in Love Letter, their threshold for empathy will be raised to its highest level."

"Then, with this heavy heart, I went on to read Nijō Tadashi's dogmatic and pretentious essay—it was like someone who had just had a good cry being forced to swallow a handful of moldy, dry sawdust."

"Nobody can read two lines."