Death comes up frequently in A Tale for the Time Being: not only are Nao and her father, Haruki, preoccupied with death and suicide, but the world these characters live in is also slowly dying. Huge gyres of plastic trash are floating around the oceans, animals are going extinct, and climate change threatens life everywhere. Images of death and destruction—for instance, from Japan’s 2011 tsunami and the 9/11 terrorist attack—frequently appear on the news. Nao and Haruki both think of suicide as a solution to a chaotic world and to their lives that are spinning out of control: they believe that by committing suicide, they can finally have some power over their disordered lives. However, their story makes the case that despite being messy and often heartbreaking, life has its beauty and is worth living.
Nao’s decision to commit suicide is largely influenced by the story of her great-uncle Haruki #1, who was a kamikaze pilot during World War II. Nao mistakenly believes that he embraced his death with courage and peace, when in reality, he didn’t want to die. Nao’s interpretation of the events surrounding Haruki #1’s death comes from the letters he wrote to his mother, Jiko, while he was training to be a soldier. In the letters, Haruki #1 wrote that he volunteered to be a kamikaze pilot because he was certain that he would die in the war—but rather than letting his moment of death be “random and imprecise,” he preferred to have control over the exact nature and time of his death. He was calm about his impending death, and he always seemed to be in control—even when he had just one day left to live. Nao is very impressed by how heroic Haruki #1 was, and she yearns to embody his maturity and composure. She also sees Haruki #1 as a stark contrast to her father, Haruki, who struggles with unemployment and a lack of confidence, and who seems like such a loser to Nao that he has even failed at committing suicide. However, Ruth reads Haruki #1’s secret diary that holds his true feelings about being a soldier and dying in war—this diary is mysteriously included among the contents of the lunch box that washes up on Ruth’s shore. Haruki #1 made it clear in this diary that he certainly didn’t want to die—but unfortunately, he had no other choice as he was forced to fight and die for his country. He was unable to write to Jiko about his true feelings because the soldiers’ commanding officers spied on them, and they even read the soldiers’ letters—this was why Haruki #1’s letters expressed a stoicism he didn’t actually feel. In his diary, he wrote that every night, he counted his juzu beads, “one for every thing on earth [he] loved, on and on, in a circle without end.” Haruki #1 loved the world and loved his life despite the suffering he experienced.
Like Haruki #1, Nao and Haruki’s love of life ultimately trumps the despair they feel over their personal struggles and life’s tragedies. Nao plans to commit suicide because she thinks that her life is filled with too much pain. She also has very low self-esteem and thinks that her absence from the world would make no difference to anyone or anything. In contrast to her views about herself, her diary entries prove that she is observant and humorous, and she is interested and invested in the world around her. She is moved by the beauty of nature at Jiko’s temple, and she is enchanted by the hustle and bustle of Akiba, Tokyo. At her Japanese school, the extreme bullying she undergoes forces her to adopt an uninterested demeanor, but when the bullying temporarily ceases, she is even academically curious. This proves that despite her claims to the contrary, Nao is very interested in life. She says in her diary that she will kill herself after writing about Jiko’s life, but she procrastinates and writes very little about Jiko’s life and a lot about her own. It seems like Nao is looking for an excuse to live.
Similarly, while Haruki attempts suicide twice, it is implied that he wanted to fail at killing himself since he enjoys many aspects of life. He attempts suicide because he’s unemployed and faces a huge crisis of confidence—he is convinced that he has no reason to live, since he is of no use to anyone. Yet he busies himself with various interests, like reading the works of all the great Western philosophers and making complicated origami bugs. He writes to his old friend, Dr. Leistiko, explaining why Japanese people regard suicide as a “beautiful thing that gives meaning and shape and honor” to life. Leistiko, however, discerns that Haruki’s letter is a “moving cry for help”—he rightly guesses that Haruki does not want to die and wants to be convinced not to kill himself, since he loves living. Jiko understands Nao and Haruki’s love of life, perhaps better than anyone else: as a Zen Buddhist nun who loves all creatures, her love for the world is even more amplified than theirs. This is why, on her deathbed, she entreats Nao and Haruki to live. Her dying wish makes the case that life is worth living, despite being confusing and chaotic.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Life vs. Death ThemeTracker
Life vs. Death Quotes in A Tale for the Time Being
[…] Dad would walk me to school and we’d talk about stuff. I don’t remember exactly what, and it didn’t matter. The important thing was that we were being polite and not saying all the things that were making us unhappy, which was the only way we knew how to love each other.
I already thought my father was insane, because this was at a time when I still believed that only insane people try to kill themselves, but at the back of my mind, I guess I was hoping that my mom was normal and okay again […]. But at that moment I knew she was as crazy and unreliable as my father, […] which meant there was nobody left in my life I could count on to keep me safe. I don't think I’ve ever felt as naked or alone. My knees went all soft as I sank, crouching there, cradling my fish. It thrashed one last time, rising up almost into my throat, and then it flopped back down and just lay there, gasping for air. I held it. It was dying in my arms.
Today during a test flight, I remembered Miyazawa Kenji's wonderful tale about the Crow Wars. […] [As] I was soaring in formation at an altitude of two thousand meters, I recalled the Crow Captain lifting off from his honey locust tree, and taking to wing to do battle. I am Crow! I thought, ecstatically. The visibility was good, and since this was the very last of the special training
flights, I flew in all directions to my heart’s content.
The pale scorpion used its pincers to flip the staghorn beetle into the air. The beetle reared up and fell over on his back, exposing his underside. The scorpion's segmented tail curled over to deliver its venomous sting. […] Yellow Scorpion stings! The staghorn beetle shuddered. In the small, bare terrarium, he had no place to hide. His spindly legs writhed and flailed in the
air, until they didn’t anymore. It looks like Staghorn Beetle is the loser, yes, he’s dying, he’s dying, he’s. . . DEAD!
Neon-colored titles flashed across the screen. Yellow Scorpion Wins!
I started to cry.
We had a couple more dates after that, and we always did it the same way, with me wearing his suit. Once, I made him put on my school uniform, but he looked so ridiculous with his knobbly knees sticking out from under the pleats that I got angry and wanted to hit him, so I did. I was wearing his beautiful Armani, which is a cruel suit, and he stood passively in front of me, wearing my skirt and my sailor blouse, and kept his eyes fixed on the floor. His passive attitude made me even angrier, and the madder I got, the harder I wanted to hit him. […] I thought maybe I would have to kill him. But the next time my hand came toward him, he caught my wrist.
“Enough,” he said. “You’re only hurting yourself.”
It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful to her. I really was. She was my only friend, and if I couldn’t hang out at Fifi’s Lonely Apron, where could I go? My home
life was a disaster. Mom [...] was killing herself working overtime. Dad [...] was depressed like I’ve never seen him before, like he’d finally and truly lost all interest in being alive. He avoided any contact with me and Mom, which is a trick in a small two-room apartment. [...] [S]ometimes, if I happened to pass him in the narrow hallway and catch his eye, his face would twitch and start to crumple with the weight of his shame, and I had to turn my head away because I couldn’t bear to see it.
I have written to you of my decision to die. Here is what I did not tell you. […] [T]he ticking of the clock is the only sound I am able to hear now. Second by second, minute by minute…tick, tick, tick…the small, dry sounds fill every crevice of silence. […] [M]y being is attuned only to one thing, the relentless rhythm of time, marching toward my death.
If I could only smash the clock and stop time from advancing! […] I can almost feel the sturdy metal body crumpling beneath my hands, the glass fracturing, the case cracking open, my fingers digging into the guts, spilling springs and delicate gearing. But no, there is no […] way of stopping time, and so I lie here, paralyzed, listening to the last moments of my life tick by.
I don’t want to die, Maman! I don’t want to die!
Making the decision to end my life really helped me lighten up, and suddenly
all the stuff my old Jiko had told me about the time being really kicked into
focus. There’s nothing like realizing that you don’t have much time left to
stimulate your appreciation for the moments of your life. I mean it sounds
corny, but I started to really experience stuff for the first time, like the beauty
of the plum and cherry blossoms […]. I spent whole days […] wandering up and down these long, soft tunnels of pink clouds and gazing overhead at the fluffy blossoms […]. Everything was perfect. When a breeze blew, petals rained down on my upturned face, and I stopped and gasped, stunned by the beauty and sadness.
But the fact is, you’re a lie. You’re just another stupid story I made up out of
thin air because I was lonely and needed someone to spill my guts to. I wasn’t
ready to die yet and needed a raison d’etre. I shouldn’t be mad at you but I am! Because now you’re letting me down, too.
The fact is, I’m all alone.
[…] Everyone I believed in is dying. My old Jiko is dying, my dad is probably already dead by now, and I don’t even believe in myself anymore.
