I love black, or the polar opposite, vivid colors. I hate pastels, sherbets, and other pale colors. I prefer deep black saturation. Rather than color, I love the atmosphere that physical light creates when it passes through the lens of my eyes and reaches my brain. Scriabin's harmonies are rich in color, but the melody is dull. They are different from the colors of Messiaen, who shares my synesthesia and whose stained glass windows are like a direct musical translation.

So, today I'd like to introduce some "black" literature.

French literature, such as that of Bataille, Sade, and Mandiargues, also has a very good flavor, but I'll start with Japanese literature, which has an equally strange smell.

The first is Edogawa Ranpo. He may be thought of as a mystery novelist who left behind works for children, such as the Boy Detectives Club series, featuring the action-packed tales of the Fiend with Twenty Faces and Akechi Kogoro, but don't mistake that for his serious work. (In fact, if you read deeper into the Boy Detectives Club, the relationship between Akechi and young Kobayashi... Ranpo was studying boy love.)

His best works are "The Human Chair," "The Man Traveling with a Pressed Picture," "Mirror Hell," and "The Man in the Attic." Perhaps it's best to describe them as fantasy and grotesque literature. Apparently, these works were extremely popular, despite his own reservations. The highlight of these is "The Caterpillar."

You can Google the plot or buy the paperback; I won't go into detail here. What's amazing about this work is that it was published with most words obscured because it was considered anti-war literature, and there are no depictions of a wife tormenting her maimed husband.
This work has absolutely no "cutouts." It's grisly and gory from start to finish.

The ideas in works like "The Attic Stroller" and "The Human Chair" are certainly creepy. The writing is incredibly gut-wrenching, but that only lasts until the beginning, development, and climax. The conclusion provides a realistic punchline, bringing the reader back to earth. Perhaps that was the author's aim, but for some readers who want to enjoy dark sensuality to the core, it may not be enough.

In contrast to these, "The Caterpillar" is on a different level of seriousness. It maintains the creepiness of a crawling, multi-limbed creature to the very end. The final conclusion in particular is both unpleasant and beautiful.
"I had a vision of a caterpillar crawling up a dead branch of a tree in the dark night, and when it reached the tip of the branch, its crippled body's weight caused it to plummet with a drop into the bottomless black space below." (Quoted from Shincho Bunko)
Whenever I imagine this scene, I feel a sense of dread and sensuality, and suddenly I find myself writhing like the caterpillar.
It is said that whenever Ranpo was asked for an autograph, he wrote the following.
"The world is a dream, and the dreams of the night are the truth."
"The day is a dream, the night is reality."
Don't you think these words embody the man who lived in fantasy and darkness? I am not well-informed and am unaware of any contemporary authors who have inherited this world.

Ranpo's works have been published by many publishers, but Shunyodo Shoten's Edogawa Ranpo Bunko is my favorite, coupled with Taga Shin's cover prints.

This post has unintentionally become quite long. I also wanted to introduce Yumeno Kyusaku, Oguri Mushitaro, and Numa Shozo, but I will leave that for next time.