Chapter 9 dust on paper
I have worked in the western branch of "Asahi Shimbun" for about 20 years, the first two years as an outsider, and the last two years as an entrustment.Not an official member.The remaining 16 years are the period of tenure as "Asahi Shimbun staff".Among them, there is three years of military service.
Life working at the Asahi Shimbun was generally dull and boring.Because the minimum life has been guaranteed, the sense of urgency to have a full stomach every day has been lost.
Come to think of it, I don't have the qualities to be a pattern designer.It's just that there is a little so-called "dexterity", which has become my profession by chance.In order not to lose my qualifications for this profession, I studied a lot.For example, I was born with bad handwriting, and my handwriting was crooked, (it is still the same now), so I worked hard to write "words that can be published", and finally I was able to prevaricate.
Although the pattern is not well drawn, it can barely be seen.In the countryside, there are neither suitable instructors nor peers who encourage each other.Nevertheless, I tried to become a full-fledged painter, and I went to the Shimai Printing Office in Hakata just for this kind of "learning".
However, since I entered the advertising department of the newspaper, my job is only to draw the drawings assigned to me according to the original drawings.There is neither room for developing one's own originality nor any tricks.My work is completely replicative.Because there are no big advertisers in the local area, I can't use my talents to draw some small things.At that time, I had no idea how envious I was of the large advertisement paper models sent from Tokyo and Osaka.
The mediocrity of work makes life empty.In a position in a small corner of a large organization, your actual ability is not evaluated, in fact, even your existence itself is not recognized.People who are crushed at the bottom like this will never be able to turn over.Although the sign of "Western Branch" is hung here, it is a branch in Kyushu and an office.Members hired locally have never entered the "our store" from here.To some extent, it can be regarded as "prosperity", that is, in that "branch" to be promoted to director, to be a section chief or section chief.
At that time, it was rare to see members transferred from Tokyo to Kyushu, and almost all of them came from Osaka.There are two types of these people.One is a young member who was transferred to work, stayed in Kyushu for two or three years, and was soon called to Tokyo and Osaka.Needless to say, they came here temporarily as candidate cadres for practical apprenticeships.Most of them graduated from famous universities and have the status of "trainees".Older people come to Kyushu to be gilded for future promotion.The other is that the central government branded it as "useless" and was exiled to Kyushu.Most of them are also older.
It is very interesting to observe these two types of transferees from the perspective of a disinterested third party.But who is the third party?Someone who doesn't even have the qualifications to be transferred.Knowing this clearly is the time to go to the station to see off those who have transferred jobs.Amidst the "Long live" and applause, the promoted persons happily left Xiaokura Station.At the station, they said to each other: "You also hurry up and come back from Kyushu!" "I will go back in another year!"
However, those recruited from other places do not have this qualification, nor do they have such hope.They are in a position where they cannot get out of Kyushu for a lifetime, which symbolizes that their fate is like this.After the farewell was over, people were strangely silent, and everyone was so lonely that they either went to the cinema or played gambling games by themselves.On the other hand, people from the central government still get together to go to the hotel to vent their grievances about "not going back".Still, there is hope for the future for these people.They are very different from the desperate gang.When I saw figures walking back from the station in different directions, I felt like fallen leaves blown by the wind.
Among the personnel who are transferred, the ministers are the ones who need to be changed most frequently.As a transition for promotion, coming to Kyushu is a formal buffer.The deputy chief of the Osaka head office came here as a minister, and soon became a minister in Osaka and went back.
They are very active.But there are also people who don't necessarily get what they want in the end.What I remember is T, I think he is about twenty-two three, a big fat man, because he is short, he looks very wide and fat.He was also the former deputy minister of Osaka, and became a minister in Kyushu. From a physical point of view, he is also full of style. T is from Yonago, Tottori Prefecture. I heard that among his friends are Ikuta Haruzuki and Hakuryu Hideko.According to the usual practice, a party similar to that after taking office was held for him. In the restaurant, people above the members of the company participated in a banquet accompanied by geisha, while the employees only had a meal at the Zhonghua Restaurant the next day.At that time, I still entrusted me to only attend the employee meeting.
At this time, Minister T, perhaps due to the influence of friends, talked about folklore, archaeology, novels, poetry and many other aspects.He talked non-stop with great interest.Those present were all young people, and none of them could get along with him, so, although it was unnecessary, I still interrupted from time to time. T made a few resigned answers, as if trying not to talk to me.After repeating this several times, I have to admit that Minister T discriminates against me.
Not limited to this Minister T, even after I have become a member, the treatment I received from other superiors has not changed.For example, at the banquet, ministers and deputy ministers poured wine for everyone as usual, and they also came to the last table.They chatted briefly with each subordinate there, but as soon as they came to me, the boss turned around and went to the other people.Some of them obviously showed impatient expressions when they saw me.This is also due to the fact that I am not socially good by nature.However, no matter which minister or boss is like this, it cannot simply be attributed to my personal temper.There is deliberate contempt in this question.
Another reason why I received such special treatment among the people hired from the local area, I think, was because I was a pattern painter.Probably this is an important reason.
Drawing patterns and writing original text may be a "special skill".But it is not of much use in the advertising department of a newspaper, let alone it doesn't count at all.All in all, the main body of the advertising department is external relations.What the minister cares about is how to instruct and motivate exclusive sales stores to collect advertising manuscripts, which is directly related to the performance of the advertising department.The importance of being responsible for external liaison is taken for granted.At the same time, it is a matter of course that those who draw patterns (the Asahi Shimbun calls them "pattern makers") have no value.
The same can be said for proofreaders.Proofreading is nothing more than simply comparing the original manuscript with typesetting, correcting typos, and correcting the form of typesetting.It is not unreasonable that the table of the pattern maker and the proofreader are side by side.
When ministers sometimes refer to proofreaders, they are sure to tout them as "unsung heroes" for their down-to-earth efforts.Proofreaders are usually treated coldly, so I have to give special affirmation of their value.Consequently, the personnel who work here have a queer disposition.This is also a kind of irony, the more proficient an expert is at work, the less able he is to be freed from this position.
The person in charge of contacting advertisements often travels on business, and the internal staff is very envious.Field personnel have to achieve results in foreign affairs, so it is quite hard work, but just because they walk out of the newspaper office and come and go freely, they are also envied by others.They went to Hakata, Kumamoto, Kagoshima, Hiroshima, and sometimes Osaka.After they came back from the outside, they talked and laughed happily with their companions around their table, telling what they had seen and heard about their business trips.Apart from writing daily papers, their work in the newspaper office has almost no other routine work, so they can chat casually while smoking a cigarette.There is a repulsive baseness in their superiority.Compared with them, our table is pathetic.Under the desk lamp that is also lit during the day, the proofreaders hurriedly marked with red pens in order to catch up with the time for the next version of the letterpress. I can still see the busy scene in front of my eyes.
The cadres of the advertising department mainly talk to field personnel.The minister chatted and laughed with them, but he would never come to the proofreaders and pattern makers.Every morning, the greeting of "Hello" became the only expression they could face us during the day.Occasionally, I feel that the deputy chief seems to be coming here, and that is when there is something wrong in the proofreading.Proofreader A, who has almost lost all his hair, often complains, saying: "It is only natural that this job is done well, and you will suffer if you make mistakes. It's really not worth it!"
Among the people I know, I don't know how many excellent and young proofreaders resigned.Although they only graduated from middle school (the old system), they all passed the difficult entrance examination of the "Asahi Shimbun" and joined the company.Soon, however, their flowers of hope withered in the face of reality.They understand that no matter how talented they are, as long as they graduate from high school and are recruited from the local area, it is impossible to achieve their goals in the newspaper office.
When the war intensified, I couldn't recall what I thought or read during this period of work.Probably nothing was discussed.The only joy is to find friends from my fellow pattern designers, and to hold a gathering that is akin to an exhibition of works.Fortunately, in Kyushu, there are many such partners and horizontal connections.The main body is Hakata's group, and there are also several people from Kumamoto and Nagasaki.At that time, the Moji Railway Administration was working on sightseeing advertisements, and under its auspices, some exhibitions were held, which strengthened the exchanges between partners.The exhibition is sometimes held in Fukuoka, sometimes in Nagasaki, Kumamoto, and Kokura, and is held in rotation every year.I once held a exhibition in Kumamoto, and I stayed at an inn in Aso with a lot of people for the first time. At that time, I forgot about my gloomy newspaper work.
Proofreading director A is keen on archeology and often talks about archeology to me. A is a weak person, those young subordinates somewhat look down on him.Also because his desk happened to be next to mine, he chatted with me a lot. A's family has a large population. Although he is the director, he is always pressed for debts.One day I went to his house and saw expensive books on archeology filling the closet with four and a half stacks.It seems that there are no other visitors on weekdays. A showed me the fragments of stone tools and pottery he collected one by one with great interest.
Under the influence of this person, I often visited historical sites in Kitakyushu in order to escape from the annoying atmosphere of the newspaper office.It was also at that time that I saved my pocket money and traveled to Kyoto and Nara.There are many horizontal cave tombs in Kitakyushu.It costs money to stay overnight, so I usually come back on the same day.Even so, if I could just forget about my depression one day, I have been rescued countless times.
But, at best, that was temporary relief.In the end, it's just a little bit of fun doing it.This fun is probably a temporary hypnotic to avoid reality.After slackening my energy, I had to plunge into the suffocating atmosphere. Once, a staff member who graduated from Tokyo University of Commerce was transferred from Osaka and said to me: "What's the use of doing this? How about doing something constructive?" ?” This sentence gave me quite a stimulus.
Indeed, what's the use of going to the countryside of Kyushu to look at horizontal caves and unearthed cultural relics?I couldn't make my fortune in archaeology.In life, you can't benefit from things.In short, it is no different from playing chess or mahjong.
However, what on earth can I do when it comes to doing something constructive?Even if there is some talent, but there is no chance to display it.I am poor and have no capital to do business, and I cannot change my career.The thought of hanging around like this until retirement makes me feel dark.A partner who was one year older than me who worked with me laughed at himself and said: "Anyway, when I get old, I can still wear glasses to draw original prints." I am afraid that there is no other way out.
The war is going on, and the society is gradually becoming tense.I have also been urged many times to participate in military training under the guidance of the military association in the village.I'm already thirty-three years old, how can I put on leggings and swing a wooden bayonet!In the newspaper office, those who had served as corporals also began to conduct so-called "in-house coaching".At that time, I seldom participated, and it was because of this that I was unlucky.
As the war progressed, the military color of the newspaper gradually increased.On December 8th, the anniversary of the war, the branch president, wearing white gloves, read out the edict of the war in the auditorium, and all the staff lined up in the suburbs to visit the Zhongling Pagoda.One morning, on my way to work, I looked at the red flag curling up on the roof of the newspaper office, and even thought of the Stars and Stripes hanging on the flagpole, so I quietly told my colleagues about it.
Some colleagues left their jobs to go to war.The minister began to read their names at the so-called ministerial meeting, praying for their long-term fortune.
H was the representative of the western branch at that time and was a director.He liked to play chess very much, and often appeared in the waiting room called the "recreation room" at that time, and opened the battlefield with his subordinates. H is nearly sixty years old, but he has the generosity and alertness of a journalist.I was able to talk directly with the top cadres of the newspaper because I happened to be in the lounge and became his opponent in chess.It is very interesting that only at this time, the Minister of Advertising was talking to me with a smile on the side.
Once, while playing chess, the chief editor came in and handed a record to H. H glanced at it, put it in his pocket immediately, and returned his eyes to the chessboard.The chief editor left with a nervous expression.In the evening magazine, the news of the battle death was announced.That record was an incoming phone message.At that time, H's attitude was not so much shaken and flustered as ignoring the news. H was once a well-known social minister of the Asahi Shimbun.
In December of the seventeenth year of the Showa era (that is, 1942), I received a solicitation order.The red paper said "Education Call", and I realized that many people were taken to the battlefield under this name.I came to the inspection office on the appointed day. Judging from the other callees, most of them were elderly.The clerk there compared my face with the recruitment order and asked, "Did you go to the military training on time?" I replied, "Not much." He nodded and said, "That's right, so I was punished." This sentence is still vivid in my ears.Punish people who are not enthusiastic about military training to go to the battlefield. I am afraid that this matter can be done by the military personnel of the government.I learned that a person's life can be manipulated by an official at will.Perhaps the military affairs department brought the military training transcripts from various areas in the city and found out those who did not have a high attendance rate.However, isn't something like this still happening nonchalantly?Fortunately, I came back safely. If I were to go to the battlefield in the south where the battle is fierce, I might have died long ago.The slightest movement of a city government official's pencil disrupted the fate of a family of six. ——Later, I used this as the title, transformed these materials into the pardon of exiles, and wrote these things in the novel.
At that time, the recruiting place was in, according to the order, there was a three-month training period, and then it was temporarily disbanded.
Life in the army, however, has led to unexpected discoveries.As someone said, "When you come here, the differences in social status, rich and poor, and age are completely eliminated. Everyone is at the same level." The equality of recruits made me feel a wonderful survival force.At the Asahi Shimbun, no matter how hard you struggle, you cannot escape being discriminated against.For example, it is a screw on a gear, and my existence is not even worth as much as a screw.
In army life, one has to work hard, study, and please the squad leader and veterans.In short, it can show the individual.In the newspaper office, my existence will never be recognized, but here, personal activities appear in the results.The reason why I feel strangely fresh about army life is because I discovered the "human existence" that is not in the workplace.
Most people say that life in the barracks kills humanity and is worthless.However, I had the opposite feeling.Whether it was during the three months, or when the call-up order came immediately after three months, until the two years of demobilization, I thought I was not such a lazy soldier.This is not because I have any consistent military spirit, it can be said that this is a reaction to the life of the newspaper office so far.
The second solicitation order came suddenly on a hot day in June.When it was time to report to the designated place the next day, I opened the poor bookcase and stamped my book collection.There are not many books, but I can't put it down.If I die, these books will be scattered somewhere.I was very reluctant to part with these books, so I hurriedly carved a collection seal, and carefully pressed the seal one by one.My three-year-old son held the ink pad box with both hands for the convenience of me printing.After arriving in the army, I will never forget the image of the child standing in front of the bookshelf for a long time.
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