I recently picked up Akutagawa’s works. Being one of the most known Japanese authors, I had quite high hopes, especially since id been looking forward to reading his short stories for quite a while. Being also one of the biggest inspirations to one of my favorite authors, (Osamu Dazai), I was to say the least excited. Now, having read all of his translated stories, I can tell you that he is quite remarkable indeed. But the truth is, that even though all of his works were quite memorable, one caught my eye in particular. 

“In a Bamboo Groove” starts off by the testimony of a woodcutter, as he narrates how he found a dead man’s body, in a bamboo groove. The story gets quite clear, as a priest, mother of the woman the deceased man was with, and a nearby officer, offer their own testimonies. The interesting part though, comes down to the actual murder suspects. The criminal, the woman, and the dead man himself (spiritually). Each one, gives their own testimony, each one seemingly like the other, yet so very different, as details don’t match up, and in the end each one drives to their own conclusion, of who killed the man. Akutagawa, and later director Kurosawa, (as it was later filmed, 1950), seem to give the same importance to each story, making each one of the suspects unreliable narrators. That also makes the reader not know who he’s supposed to trust. Like a murder mystery, the reader expects a grand ending, maybe combining all the suspects’ testimonies, or maybe none. Yet, Akutagawa has finished his story. The short story ends with the dead man’s testimony, leaving the actual truth a riddle for his audience. But that’s what makes the story so impactful. Akutagawa has made his point, already. Since it wasn’t who was the murderer after all. It was the testimonies themselves. The so different stories each one of them said, was a result of the “Rashomon effect” named by a short story from Akutagawa himself.  It’s like a glass lens in the brain. Scientists have found that the way human memory is taken in is different for every person. Ranging from egoistic filters, which highlight the person’s actions, in their memory. Which is practically why no suspect said they themselves were the murderer. Or even, the murderer knew who he was, but refused to confine it, as he saw that he was at no fault, result of the egoistic filter. It can also even range in personal filters, which could be the result of past experiences. Each subject represents a different story, not because they are telling a full-on lie, but because what they remember isn’t the objective truth. That truth, their own kind of truth, that they fully created themselves. In the end, who murdered the man wasn’t the point, yet Akutagawa hints at how the human brain is by its own nature subjective, so much so that we can change our truth without even trying. So, maybe human truth isn’t exactly what objectively is classified as the truth, but its our own type of truth, the one we believe in, and the type of truth each one of us knows. 

By Thomais Fouskoudi, junior highschool student