Ishiguro and the Bridge of Hesitation

Some time in our lives, we inevitably experience that Robert Frost moment when we find ourselves at a crossroads, and wonder which path to take. "I took the one less traveled by," Frost proclaims in his poem, The Road Not Taken. And he marvels at the difference it has made to the rest of his life. Indeed, he seems comfortable with the choice he made. He seems to bear no regrets; nor does he seem to be plagued by doubts or uncertainties as to the earlier choice he made.  

If only life's crucial choices and decisions could always be made with such clarity and certainty. But most of us are likely to hesitate and procrastinate before making any decision at all. Then, once the decision has been made, we have second thoughts and try to double back in order to untangle the consequences of the earlier decision.

If you've experienced anything similar to this situation, you'll have no problem relating to the dilemma faced by Ono, the narrator of Kazuo Ishiguro's novel  An Artist of the Floating World.  Appropriately, the novel begins with a cameo shot of Ono walking across the Bridge of Hesitation in post-World War II Nagasaki, as he leads the reader up a hill towards his newly-acquired home. From there he begins his story about the house, how it came into his possession as a result of important choices he made earlier in his life, particularly in the years leading up to the onset of war. As the story continues, it appears that there may be a darker side to Ono's initial appearance as a man of "good character and achievement." In fact, is it possible (the reader begins to ask) that Ono may be hiding a different kind of narrative other than the one he is telling us? Is he struggling to keep his story intact and whole, while other snippets of his past (his involvement in a pre-war propaganda movement, for example) begin to resurface?  Obviously, we want to read on to see how these questions and tensions get resolved.

The Bridge of Hesitation--like Robert Frost's crossroads--operates as fairly straightforward symbol of Ono's predicament.  In many ways, just as a bridge arches across two banks of a river, Ono is caught between two worlds--pre-war versus post-war Japan, the "floating world" schoool of painting verus the propaganda school that he joins as part of his effort to support the war effort, and his love of tradition versus his praise for modernity. But Ono does not like to be branded as a hesitator. "If sometimes I am to be seen up on that bridge, leaning thoughtfully against the rail," he says later on, "it is not that I am hesitating" (99). Instead, he wants to appear as decisive, as resolute, as firm in his decision-making as the narrator of the Robert Frost poem.

Yet something keeps tugging away at Ono that prevents him from creating a seamless narrative with a clean resolution. There's something in his past that doesn't quite fit with the story that he has been telling of himself. As he probes deeper into this past--thereby going deeper and deeper into his memory and subconsciousness--this "truth" begins to make its impact felt. As a result, Ono has to confront uncomfortable facets of himself and of his past decisions.

Ono is not evil. In fact, he's quite likeable.  He's trying his best to appear strong and resolute while grappling with issues of doubt and uncertainty. He wants to get off the Bridge of Hesitation but at the same time he knows that, fundamentally, he belongs there. Surely, we can relate to any person who finds themself in such a position.

As Ishiguro himself says, "There's something dignified about Ono in the end that arises simply out of being human." In fact, we can learn from Ono as we go about telling our own narratives, creating our own life-stories. Do we gloss over past mistakes, errors, doubts, uncertainties in order to create a seamless package? Sure, we'd love to be scrupulously honest with ourselves and with others when we delve into our past, but that's not always as easy as it sounds in theory. Similarly, we'd like to be as resolute and clear-minded as Robert Frost, but life often throws up challenges that are ambiguous and multi-layered. Indeed, most of spend a lot of time on that Bridge of Hesitation, and the sooner we acknowledge the fact (and even begin to enjoy it), the more honest (and comfortable) we can be with ourselves.