Masks Read Online Free PDF Page A

his visitors’ interest in spirit possession.
    Still rejecting the idea, Yasuko glanced now at Ibuki. “No one but a few of the pupils has any idea we’re doing that sort of research. And Toé Yakushiji, of all people! She sends us her draft poems by mail, without setting foot out of Kyoto.”
    “Yorihito must have had his own reasons. His greatest roles, the son said, were in
The Fulling-Block
and
Lady Aoi.
I can’t help thinking that each of the female masks we saw—Zō no onna and Ryō no onna, Deigan *4 and the rest—was somehow transfigured by the sensation he had, while wearing it, of actually becoming a woman. Or does that sound too fanciful?”
    “Nō is his whole life, they say, and very little else enters in. So it’s hard to imagine he’s ever read Mother’s poetry, even if Toé does take the magazine. But he must have sensed something—mustn’t he, to have made such a point of showing us the Ryō no onna, even though none of us had said a word about it. The sight of it rather frightened me. I couldn’t help thinking that the one person meant to see those masks must be my own mother-in-law, not because she sees No performed so often or because she can appreciate the artistry of the masks, but because of that look of utter tranquillity they have—a deeply inward sort of look. I think Japanese women long ago must have had that look. And it seems to me she must be one of the last women who lives that way still—like the masks—with her deepest energies turned inward. I’d sensed something of the sort all along, in a vague way, but yesterday, as I watched her studying those masks and costumes, it came to me more clearly than ever before.”
    Resting her shoulders against the seat cover, hands folded in her lap, Yasuko turned her head toward Ibukiand fixed him with such a look that he started; with her chest thrust slightly forward, her head twisted at an odd angle, she had a look of cruel eroticism, like a woman wrapped in chains.
    “Do you know what I’m thinking?” she asked.
    “Sorry. I’m not psychic, I’m afraid.” To cover his confusion, he bent forward and lit a cigarette. “You do seem awfully quiet. I wondered if something made you feel awkward around me today.”
    “If you can tell that much, you’re doing well.” She unclasped her hands and smiled at him, the dimple showing in her cheek. “To tell the truth, I’ve decided to leave the Toganō family, and Mieko, if I can. I’ve been thinking it over for some time. And I’m afraid that if I don’t act soon, it will be too late.”
    “I can understand why Mieko would be sorry to lose you. She’s already lost Akio. Apart from that, she could probably never find another secretary who would be so devoted to the magazine and the poetry circle.”
    “Is that what you really think?” She smiled.
    “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”
    “No. If that were all, any number of people could take my place. Mother’s pupils idolize her. Lots of them would gladly slave for her. That’s not why she thinks she needs me.”
    “Ah, I know. It’s because she’s so determined that you take up where Akio left off, and finish his research. You were forced into it by the strength of her determination, and lately the whole thing has become a burden. Am I right?”
    “Only partly. Even if it was mainly her idea in the beginning, by now the project is part of me; I would keep on with it even if I left and married again.” Yasuko spoke flatly, then reclasped her hands with a sigh. “Oh, I’m not expressing myself well. But I did want to ask your advice today.”
    “My advice? You mean about leaving Mieko?”
    “I suppose I do mean that.” She stretched out her arms, hands inverted, the fingers still clasped, so that her small palms turned delicately back; the round pink flesh appeared directly beneath Ibuki’s eyes as he sat bent forward in his seat. The way she sat, her way of using her hands were unusually flirtatious.
    “You know,”