Nureki Chimuo Archive

While I was writing this “Talking Theater” piece last time, I received a call from Director Nakahara, who told me she had obtained some back issues of “Kitan Club.”

These were three issues, published on January 5, February 25, and April 10, 1949, and she said she would send me copies of the covers for now so I could take a look.

The copies were faxed over immediately.

For me, currently writing “The Story of Minomura Ko” (working title) series at the request of Kawade Shobo Shinsha, this was such wonderful news that I felt like jumping for joy.

That is where I left off last time.

Then yesterday, I received word that they had obtained a copy of “Kitan Club” even older than those three issues. I immediately went to the Sex Industry Museum in Iidabashi.

“I want to see issues of ‘Kitan Club’ from before Minomura Ko was put in charge of its editing.”

I had been discussing this with Director Nakahara for some time.

In other words, I wanted to confirm exactly what kind of underground magazine “Kitan Club” was before Minomura Ko joined the team.

The upcoming “The Story of Minomura Ko” series is a co-authored work by Nureki Chimuo and Nakahara Rutsu. And Nakahara Rutsu’s role in this is significant.

Director Nakahara had always said that while it was natural for him to keep the materials on hand as the author, at the same time, the Sex Industry Museum must also acquire them as part of its collection.

No, more than anything else, I want to see “Kitan Club” before Minomura Ko joined it. Engaging with “Kitan Club” prior to Minomura Ko’s involvement will reveal the true nature of Yoshida Minoru, the publisher and editor-in-chief, who has remained largely hidden in Minomura Ko’s shadow until now.

What kind of relationship of trust bound Minomura Ko and Yoshida Minoru together, allowing them to bring this magazine of perverse sexuality to full bloom?

To my eyes, it was truly a magnificent, scandalous flower that bloomed like a dream.

Director Nakahara and I would often talk about how interesting it would be to see what “Kitan Club” was like before it became so steeped in that air of heresy.

If we consider the young Minomura Ko, who had just returned from the military in 1947, to be a rough gemstone, then Yoshida Minoru wiped away the dirt clinging to that stone and polished it into a jewel.

Even when he polished it, he didn't give all sorts of instructions with mere words. Nor did he teach him.

Believing that this rough stone would surely begin to shine and sparkle on its own if left alone, Yoshida Minoru simply watched in silence. Watching in silence was undoubtedly the best way to make this rough stone shine.

And that is exactly what happened.

Oh, wait. Somehow, the conversation has strayed off course.

Upon receiving word from Director Nakahara that he had acquired an even older issue of “Kitan Club,” I went to the Sex Industry Museum.

Sure enough, there it was. There was a thin, flimsy magazine, made of poor quality senka paper, dating back some sixty-odd years. Right after the war.

It was precisely because it was so thin that I was moved. No matter how thin the magazine, no matter how faint the print, there is something heavy within it that resonates deeply in the heart.

Will the e-books being published today evoke this kind of emotion when, sixty-odd years from now, I pick one up out of necessity? Such emotion won’t be needed. We’ll likely be living in an era where functionality and convenience are valued over emotion. Published March 20, 1948 (No. 5)14 14

Number 5 appears in the Nawa-Art Archive, I believe

Published May 20, 1948 (No. 7) Published October 15, 1948

These three volumes are the back issues of “Kitan Club” that Director Nakahara has recently acquired.

The paper used over sixty years ago, during the postwar period when material resources were most scarce, has naturally deteriorated and discolored.

Director Nakahara, who has been watching my hands from nearby, craned her slender neck and immediately spoke up in a strong voice.

“When turning the pages, be very gentle! Be careful! Do it carefully and slowly!”

“Yes, I understand!”

I found myself responding like an elementary school student. But I was immediately drawn back into the pages of the tea-brown paper.

“Hmm, this is interesting. Amazing. I have to write more about the beginning of ‘The Story of Minomura Ko.’ I can’t let this slip through the cracks!”

Yoshida Minoru’s face floats before my eyes.

I’ve met Yoshida Minoru a few times myself.

I went to visit Akebono Shobo at 30 Sugawara-dori 4-chome, Sakai City, dressed up like a writer in a kimono and wearing geta just for the occasion.

Yoshida Minoru was a gentle, petite gentleman. Beneath this gentle smile, I could sense a glint of intelligence and backbone. I was twenty-four at the time.

We once sat across from each other for two hours, chatting in a coffee shop in Kagurazaka, near what is now the Sex Industry Museum. At the time, I was the editor-in-chief of Uramado.

When I came across the colophon of the 1948 issue of “Kitan Club,” Yoshida Minoru’s figure floated gently before my eyes. And he never left.

That’s right.

It was Yoshida Minoru, not Minomura Ko, who treated me with consistent sincerity from the moment I became a contributor to “Kitan Club” starting with the November 1953 issue, and who faithfully sent my manuscript fees via the post office. Perhaps I need to write more about Yoshida Minoru.

But would the editorial department at Kawade Shobo allow me to write about “Kitan Club” before Minomura Ko appeared on the scene?

Kawade Shobo has asked me to write about Minomura Ko and his work.

No, it doesn’t matter if they don’t allow it. If they tell me not to, I can just cut that part out later. I decided to write it anyway. I simply cannot help but write it.

An hour later, I was sitting across from Rakka-san at “Shirajuji,” a coffee shop near Suidobashi Station. I ordered curry rice and hot coffee, while Rakka-san ordered a sandwich and iced coffee.

As Rakka-san and I walked from JR Suidobashi Station toward Jumbocho, that “classic music coffee shop” remained just as it had been in the past, preserved as if by a miracle.

“I used to come into this place quite a lot, decades ago,” I muttered.

“I want to go in, I want to go into this place,” Rakka-san said, acting like a spoiled child.

I’ve met Mineko Tsuzuki here. I’ve met Ayako Nakagawa. I’ve met Akio Ebuchi. I met Takashige Morishita and Tetsuro Ama. I met Koji Nakata. I met Kiriko Eda. And I also met A-ko, B-ko, and C-ko. The Tokyo Sanshisha building was nearby. After finishing a shoot for “SM Select” in a studio on the fifth floor of that building, I’d come back and have coffee at this shop with a few of the models.

That’s right, I also wrote several drafts of “Shooting Companion: Various Models” at a table in this shop.

That was forty years ago. The young, fresh-faced models from back then must all be around sixty now. It’s terrifying.

No matter how good or bad our deeds, whether we’re happy or not, people age and die equally.

I’m currently taking an elixir of eternal youth. My hair has turned jet-black, grown thicker and longer, and for some reason, my breasts have gotten bigger. They’ve taken on the shape of a young girl's budding breasts. I think it’s because of the elixir of eternal youth.

The interior of the “Meikyoku Kissa” is a subdued, dark brown, just like the pages of the 1948 issue of “Kitan Club,” and there are no other customers in sight.

The heating is working well. The shop is quiet and warm, and as I chatted with Rakka-san, I took off my jacket, and, without thinking, slipped my left hand under the hem of my shirt and began to fondle my own breasts with my fingers. Lately, I’ve gotten into the habit of doing things like this.

I opened the collar of my shirt, grabbed that breast with my right hand, and showed it to Rakka-san.

“Eek!” Rakka-san cried out, twisting her upper body and leaning back sharply.

We laughed.

Next month, Rakka-san and I are going to see “Settsu Gappo-gatsuji” at the Nissay Theater and “Kana-tehon Chushingura” at the National Theater.