Summary
While on the train back to to the suburban Arakawa district, Ono recalls with some irritation the scene in the reception room, where Setsuko warned him about potentially embarrassing information from his past marring Noriko's marriage negotiations. His negative feelings are mostly directed towards Setsuko's husband Suichi, who he feels has started to influence his daughter with his views. Suichi, it is implied, suffered greatly in the war, specifically in Manchuria. As a result he feels bitter and suspicious towards people of Ono's generation. Ono once assumed that he would grow out of this, but Suichi's feelings have not changed, and have perhaps even spread to Setsuko as well. Moreover, Ono believes that Setsuko is herself spreading this disrespectful, suspicious attitude to her younger sister. Ono thinks about Setsuko's recent visit the month before, over the course of which he often found his daughters having secretive discussions together. Then he shares the content of an upsetting conversation with Noriko from just a few days ago. She describes, brightly and nonchalantly, running into Jiro Miyake—the man who she intended to marry last year before his family mysteriously backed out of negotiations. She reports that he is now engaged. Ono reacts with indignation, but Noriko is determinedly unfazed. She casually steers the conversation to last year's failed negotiations, asking her father why he believes the Miyakes pulled out. Ono gives his standard answer, positing that the Miyakes believed Noriko to be unsuitably high-status for their son, but he is struck by the deliberate way in which Noriko questions him.
This conversation jogs Ono's memory, and he takes us to a scene from last year in which he ran into Jiro Miyake at a tram stop in town. At this time, the marriage negotiations were still ongoing, but Ono looks back on the interaction and tries to determine whether it held secret significance. Even shortly after the Miyakes withdrew, Ono was unable to remember the content of his conversation with Jiro when questioned by Setsuko. However, he recalls that he began wondering whether the run-in actually caused the Miyakes to withdraw. Ono feels that the chance encounter might have caused Jiro to consider the differences between his and Noriko's backgrounds. Now, he finds himself remembering the encounter again, this time recollecting a chunk of conversation he'd forgotten before. Jiro, he remembers, explained that the President of his company's parent company had just committed suicide. Jiro feels that the suicide is noble, since the company president had acted improperly during the war. His death, Jiro feels, will allow the rest of the company and country to move on from his culpability. Ono disagrees strongly, arguing that committing suicide helps nobody, and that, furthermore, one inevitably sides with one's own country at wartime and therefore people should not be punished for doing so. In the end, Ono finds the Japanese wartime leaders heroic, while Jiro believes they should be held accountable for misguiding the country as a whole. Ono isn't even entirely sure that Jiro said all of this, since he sometimes gets Jiro and Suichi confused. After all, they share some of the same anger towards the older generation. While following this thought, Ono is reminded of something Suichi said at "the ceremony for the burying of Kenji's ashes."
It soon becomes clear that Kenji was Ono's son, who died at war. During the burial of his ashes, which took a long time to reach the family because of the fighting, Suichi stormed off. When Ono asked him about this later, Jiro describes feeling angry about all the young men who died during the war, and wanting the older men who led Japan into the war to take responsibility for their actions. Instead of being held accountable, Suichi says, these men are doing their best to curry favor with the Americans and avoid responsibility. Ono is upset by these ideas and believes that they don't belong to Suichi alone—rather, they exemplify the mindset of his generation. To prove his point, Ono tells the story of a recent night at Mrs. Kawakami's. A man at the bar reports that a local "idiot" was beaten up for singing patriotic songs and chants. In the old days, Ono laments, these songs were considered charming, but now the very same people who loved to hear them are offended by them to the point that they will attack the singer, even though he has no understanding of what he's singing about. Therefore, while Ono isn't sure whether the Miyake's son shares Suichi's exact views, he feels safe assuming that he at least sympathizes with Suichi's attitude, which is common among young people.
Ono then directs the narrative back to his train ride to the Arakawa district and reflects on the way that tram lines, built in the 1930s, altered the neighborhoods of the city. One neighborhood that enjoyed an influx of people was the one that ended up becoming his "pleasure district." The owner of a small bar, Yamagata's, wished to expand in order to found the establishment that would become the Migi-Hidari. In the mid-1930s, Japanese authorities were generally unsympathetic to "decadent" business ventures. However, Ono believed in Yamagata's project and used his influence to appeal to the city, arguing that the establishment would serve as a gathering place for the city's patriotic artists and writers, and that all aspects of the business would celebrate the "patriotic spirit," even to the extent that customers who were "incompatible" with that patriotic spirit would not be permitted. This appeal worked, and Ono seems genuinely proud that he was able to use his influence in order to help create a place where people could enjoy themselves while still being patriotic and constructive. The Migi-Hidari is eventually renovated and looks lovely, though Ono recalls coming to Yamagata's, and living in this neighborhood, when he first moved to the city. In those days it was ugly and largely abandoned, and his tiny room forced him to crouch in order to paint. By day he worked for a firm run by a man named Master Takeda, rushing, along with other artists, to finish the firm's commissioned paintings. Eventually a new artist named Yusunari Takahara joined the firm. He painted well but was bullied for working slowly while others painted as fast as they could, and the other artists nicknamed him "the Tortoise." Impressed by the show of artistic integrity, Ono defends Takahara. He explains that he's under no illusions as to the importance of that act, but that he still takes pride in it, since it was an early manifestation of his ability to think independently. Several months later, Ono ran into Takahara. After Takahara spent some time thanking and praising Ono, Ono announced that he was planning to get a new job under an artist named Moriyama. He tells Takahara that he has recommended him alone among their colleagues to Moriyama, since he has artistic integrity and talent, and that he should pursue a job with Moriyama as well. Takahara is distressed, torn between loyalty to Ono and loyalty to Takeda.
Ono then jumps forward a bit in the narration, describing how the students he drank with at the Migi-Hidari enjoyed hearing about those early days of his career. Kuroda and the other pupils asked incredulously how a factory-like place such as Master Takeda's could teach an artist anything worthwhile. Ono tells his students that it taught him to question authority even while respecting it. He tells his raptly listening students to avoid the "decadent" influences of the past decade or so. With some bashfulness, because of the grandiose manner in which he used to speak, Ono recalls praising the "manly" new attitude spreading in Japan. Often, people from other tables would end up gathering around to hear Ono and his students talk. Ono still owns a painting by Kuroda titled "The Patriotic Spirit," which shows a scene at the Migi-Hidari and portrays, in Ono's opinion, the atmosphere of respectable rowdiness at the bar. These days, Ono often feels nostalgic, especially when he's drinking at Mrs. Kawakami's with Shintaro. He recounts a conversation typical of the ones he has with Shintaro and Mrs. Kawakami, in which they make plans to revive the district, perhaps using Ono's relatively large social influence to encourage regulars to return.
Ono remembers the one time he has seen Kuroda since the war. Kuroda was standing in the rain, looking thin and disheveled in the ruins of their old pleasure district. But before he can get any further, Ono remembers that he isn't here to talk about Kuroda, and claims that he's only thinking about him because his name came up recently when he ran into Dr. Saito, the father of Noriko's potential husband, on the tram. He backs up to describe the day as a whole. This was during Setsuko's last visit, when Ono had brought his grandson to the movies alone after his daughters declined to join. Ono believes that Noriko is being childish, though Ichiro believes the women are too afraid to see the movie. Before Ichiro leaves the house, he has a whispered exchange with Setsuko, who hands him a raincoat even though it's not raining. On the walk to the tram, Ichiro again asks about his grandfather's art career and complains that Noriko has refused to show him Ono's old paintings. The two of them then get on the tram, where they encounter Saito. The Saitos, Ono explains in an aside, are more sophisticated and respected than the Miyakes were, and that he and Dr. Saito have long greeted each other in the street, not because they are well-acquainted but because they know of each others' reputations. When they met on the tram, they made some small talk, and Ono finds Saito's manner to be superior to the Miyakes'. Before getting off, Dr. Saito mentioned having a mutual acquaintance in Kuroda, who is about to take a position teaching art at a new college. After saying that he will pass on Ono's regards to Kuroda, Saito disembarks.
At the movies, Ichiro loudly talks about how the monster on the poster looks laughably fake and non-frightening. But throughout the movie he uses his raincoat to cover his eyes, claiming to be bored, especially when the monster appears. After, while Ichiro talks to Noriko and Setsuko about how much he loved the movie, Ono brings up his chance meeting with Saito. All three adults act casual, and Ono calmly declares that they exchanged nothing but small talk. After a while, Ono also nonchalantly mentions that Saito knows his old friend Kuroda. His daughters exchange a glance that makes him think they have once again been talking behind his back. That night, while Noriko is comforting a still-frightened Ichiro, Ono and Setsuko talk about Noriko's skill with children and her marriage prospects. Then Setsuko turns the conversation to Mr. Saito, and suggests that her father pay a visit to Kuroda. She euphemistically says that Ono might want to visit people from his past, so as to avoid "misunderstandings" when the Saito's detective speaks to those people.
Soon we find ourselves back on the tram with Ono, on the way to the Arakawa district. He describes the way that the bombed-out city changes into tranquil suburbs and countryside, and then he arrives at the house of a man named Chishu Matsuda. He met Matsuda during the years when he and "the Tortoise" worked for Moriyama. For years Moriyama's artists worked, drank, and played cards indulgently while living together in a villa. One day, a stranger arrives and asks to speak to Ono, introducing himself as Chishu Matsuda. He mentions having corresponded with Ono before: he works for the Okada-Shingen society, which, until the war, was the principal tastemaker for the city's art scene. Matsuda is curious about a reply that Ono has sent to him, and Ono is cold and curt, replying that all he has to say has been said in his letter. It becomes evident that the society wishes to support and promote Ono's art, and that Ono has declined their offer. Matsuda tells Ono that the society doesn't need him, but that he, Matsuda, is struck by Ono's talent and would like to discuss ideas one day. He leaves his calling card with Ono.
Now, arriving at Matsuda's house in the Arakawa district, Ono is let in by a nurse. He notes his friend's apparent ill health. Matsuda bluntly confirms that he is deteriorating, and also mentions that he and Ono last parted on bad terms, though Ono responds that he was unaware of any disagreement. Ono apologizes for not visiting sooner, and Matsuda apologizes for failing to write after the death of Michiko, Ono's wife. They reminisce about Ono and Michiko's first meeting, which Matsuda was instrumental in arranging. Matsuda then mentions the circumstances of Michiko's death: a "freak raid" in which she was one of the few people harmed. Matsuda introduces his nurse, a Miss Suzuki who is an old colleague of his. He explains that she literally keeps him alive, and that he can only pay her to do so because he managed to save some money in spite of the war. He offers to give Ono whatever financial assistance he needs. Ono laughs this offer off and turns the conversation to small talk about Matsuda's garden, but Matsuda once again gently asks why he has come. Ono explains that a detective might come to visit Matsuda as part of Noriko's marriage negotiations. He is clearly uncomfortable making a request, and Matsuda has to urge him to be direct, but eventually Ono asks Matsuda to respond to any questions about their shared past "with delicacy." Matsuda replies that he has only positive things to say about Ono, but he is strangely and suddenly cold. Finally, Matsuda tells Ono that the two of them should continue to be proud of what they achieved in the past, even if the mainstream attitude is momentarily one of condemnation towards them. Still, he says, he will not say anything that might harm the marriage negotiations. Matsuda, like Setsuko, mentions that Ono might need to visit Kuroda. Soon after, Miss Suzuki enters, signaling that Matsuda will need to rest. Ono leaves feeling positive about the interaction and about getting in touch with people from the past in general.
Analysis
Some of the themes that were originally hinted at in the novel's early pages have developed more fully now, so that by the end of this first section, Ishiguro has laid the groundwork to delve further into the past and explore these themes more fully. One of those themes is the role of the artist and of art. Ono is very much an artist in a floating world. That is to say, whatever else the "floating world" in the title refers to, it also evokes the instability and uncertainty of this story's setting. The most stable thing in Ono's life, his identity as an artist, is now destabilized because it exists in the new and strange world of post-war Japan. Ishiguro carefully shows us how much talent his protagonist has and how hard he fought to become an artist: we see him disobeying his father by painting, enduring miserable conditions under Master Takeda, and eventually speaking to his best pupils as a respected artist and teacher. Now, he doesn't make art anymore, and his paintings are hidden away, as Ichiro notes with dismay. Though the narration doesn't explain exactly what changed in the intervening period, we have some clues. For one thing, it's obvious that Ono suffered terrible personal losses. He never directly brings up the impact of those losses, choosing instead to allude to them in the context of other stories and conversations, it seems as though Ono has some heavy emotional baggage that might make it difficult to paint. But there are also other reasons for Ono's unstable identity as an artist, which seem to be tied to his fears about Noriko's marriage negotiation.
Ono takes Japanese patriotism seriously. We see this in scenes from his more recent past, such as when he pressures his grandson to imitate Japanese heroes rather than American ones. This contrast is especially telling, since America and Japan were enemies in the Second World War, and since American forces occupied Japan after the war and dramatically altered Japanese institutions and society. Members of the younger generation, like Suichi and Jiro Miyake, are resigned or even enthusiastic about this. Older people, especially those of Ono's age who led Japan in the war and pre-war years, have more or less missed their chance to become fully-fledged members of this new, westernized Japan. Instead, they retreat from public life, like Ono, or even commit suicide, like Jiro Miyake's company president. Before the war, Ono saw his role as an artist as being deeply tied up with his role as a Japanese citizen. He made a case for the opening of the Migi-Hidari by presenting it as a space for artists to celebrate and discuss patriotic topics, rather than disintegrating into debauchery and laziness. It seems that this was a mission he genuinely believed in, especially based on the conversation we see him having with his pupils in the Migi-Hidari during his glory days. He encourages those pupils to become leaders of a more masculinized and patriotic Japan. With the decline of Japan after the war, it makes perfect sense that Ono would feel unsure about his ability to produce art, and even embarrassed about his patriotic art from before the war. In fact, he seems conflicted, unable to renounce his previous views and his old work but unwilling to openly take pride in it as Matsuda urges him to. For one thing, it's hard to take pride in a version of Japan that hardly exists anymore. More pertinently, Ono has to be careful with his reputation, not for his own sake but for Noriko's, since she is trying to get married.
Noriko's marriage negotiations are rooted in Japanese tradition. Everything from the use of a matchmaker to the fact that, at twenty-six, she is considered almost a spinster, reflects the routines and expectations of a pre-war Japanese engagement process. Ironically, though, much of this particular negotiation revolves around the ability to thrive in a post-war, non-nationalistic Japanese society in which culture and politics are significantly controlled by foreigners. The investigation portion of the negotiation, in which each family hires a detective to look into the other family's past, is particularly loaded in this case, since Ono risks being exposed as a former nationalist (this isn't stated explicitly, and in the book's early sections Ishiguro hints that there are more specific moments that Ono might be hiding, but it's evident that his patriotic politics must be downplayed for the sake of the investigation). The negotiation, then, is a microcosm of—and even a metaphor for—the story's setting as a whole. It's a chaotic, heady mix of Japanese and Western values, aesthetics, and traditions. And, as with everything else in this setting, the older generation must learn to navigate that complex mixture in order to ensure the dignity and survival of their children. Matsuda, for instance, is partly able to speak boldly about his pride in his past because he has no children, as he mentions to Ono.
That being said, not all of Ono's actions are selfless attempts to ensure the happiness of his children. He insists, for instance, on bringing Ichiro to see a film that is too frightening for him. Ono clearly loves Ichiro, but he also tries to use Ichiro as a pawn in the generational conflict between himself and his daughters. This often results in Ichiro himself feeling isolated or frightened. Ono's desire to get Ichiro on his side has several potential causes and implications. One might simply be practical. Ono sees his daughters' generation as a lost cause, since, as he complains, they are almost uniformly resentful of his own generation and eager to please the Americans. He may view his grandson as a still-salvageable convert to a more patriotic worldview. Another explanation is gendered. Ono often tries to bond with Ichiro by invoking their shared masculinity. As we already know, Ono was pleased by the increasingly "manly" spirit of Japanese people before the war, and some signs show that he wants Ichiro to grow up and live by such values himself. Furthermore, readers might note that Ono lost his son during the war. By acting possessive of Ichiro, he may be attempting to gain back some of what he lost when Kenji died.
Ono himself never implies that his son's death has influenced his relationship to Ichiro, or, in fact, that it has impacted him at all. In fact, Ono appears strangely uninterested in topics that readers might assume to be important and emotionally affecting to him. He seems to be avoiding the past, both in terms of his wife and son's deaths and in terms of his own pre-war actions. This avoidance is paired with a casual, unadorned voice that reads as if Ono is determinedly trying not to sound emotional or vulnerable. It's often unclear whether Ono is keeping his feelings from us in a deliberate, self-aware way, or whether he is himself unable to acknowledge the impact of the past. At times, Ono can appear obsessed with status. He spends plenty of time reassuring us that his reputation and status are the last things on his mind, but he dwells on moments in which others praise him and his reputation, making it clear that he is thinking about those moments. The scene in which he lectures his pupils at the Migi-Hidari seems particularly ironic on this account. Even as he tells them to question authority, the students hang onto his every word, and he makes it clear that the authority they are supposed to question is a broader social force of indulgence and weakness, not Ono himself. It may be that he is more aware of status and more obsessed with it now that he has been humiliated and denounced, since the uncertainty of his reputation now requires Ono to think more deliberately about how others perceive him.
The novel's circuitous structure, in which moments from the past lead into one another before abruptly coming back to the present—often implying but not explicitly revealing the essential conflict—reflects Ono's attempt to come to terms with the past. He cannot directly tell the reader about the most important moments from his life, so he instead circles around those moments, guiding us ever closer to them. For instance, instead of setting a section of the novel during the war, Ono shows us his conversation with Matsuda, which clues us in to some of the things that happened to Ono during wartime. This "encircling" technique is psychologically revealing, but it has the second effect of creating suspense. As we read the novel, which Ono himself frames as a straightforward tale about Noriko's marriage negotiations, we find ourselves caring much more about the moments from the past that Ono refuses to share. This reflects the writer Ishiguro's sophisticated storytelling. After all, he's making us feel suspense about the past, even though we already know the outcome: Japan loses the war and Ono is at least somewhat disgraced. Therefore, our suspense has less to do with what happens, and more to do with how and why. These are the very questions that Ono himself is trying to answer—how did he go from a respected artist in a thriving nation to a disgraced one in a defeated nation?
