Burning Cheek (Hori Tatsuo, 1932/33)
I turned seventeen. At the time I just graduated middle school and entered high school.
My parents feared that I would develop a nervous condition by growing up under their care, so they sent me to a boarding house. But it was this change of environment that deeply affected my character. I was about to cast off my youth, a transformation that that pushed me towards discomfort and despair.
At the time, the boarding house was, like a bee hive, separated into a large number of small rooms. One room was shared by about ten schoolboys and in the open space at its center, two or three large tables were placed, covered with a disarray of everyone’s possessions: school caps with white ribbons, dictionaries, notebooks, ink bottles and tobacco pouches. Between that, some of the boys were studying German, others were sitting awkwardly on the broken old chairs, doing nothing but smoking tobacco. I was the smallest of us and in order to not get shunned by them, I too smoked the painful tobacco, and fearfully put the razorblade on my still beardless cheeks.
Our bedroom on the second floor was filled with a strange odor. The smell of worn underwear made me feel uncomfortably. When I was sleeping it entered my dreams and provided me with sensations I had not yet encountered in reality. Gradually, I became accustomed to the smell.
This way, my transformation was prepared. Only one final blow was still waiting ahead of me …
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(In order to practice my English and translations skills, I decided to translate a short story by acclaimed modernist writer Hori Tatsuo published in the intellectual magazine Bungei shunjuu in 1932 and 1933. Please keep in mind that English is not my first language, so I probably don't do the text any justice... If you find any mistakes or have an idea how to improve it, please let me know, I want to get better :D )
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