Mizuno is a morally suspect, slothful and self-centered guy, but he’s sufficiently proficient that his social misdemeanors — hire arrears, overlooked time limits, private money owed, lies, cruelty to others — are tolerated. Here, as somewhere else in Tanizaki’s oeuvre, there are recognizable sexual obsessions and feminine varieties. Mizuno has an ex-wife who left him as a result of he wrote too many wife-murder tales; she finally ends up marrying a Methodist minister and changing to Christianity. Then Mizuno falls underneath the spell of Fräulein, a heartless Japanese prostitute who speaks German and eats black bread and sausages. The blameless and uninteresting spouse stands in sharp distinction to Mizuno’s “contract mistress,” who has “the look of a Western streetwalker.” Mizuno offers Fräulein the yen he has taken dishonestly from his writer so she will be able to “pretend and make it seem to me like real love.”
“In Black and White” is very plotted and self-consciously artful. Nevertheless, the reader is left short of as a result of the tale lacks the pathos and bathos that fab comedian fiction calls for. At occasions, this narrow novel can drag, one thing a serial author should take nice care to forestall. That stated, Tanizaki does lift essential aesthetic questions on what fiction writers do and why.
Under duress, Mizuno confesses to a detective: “In actual daily life when I’m dealing with people, I do tell lies all the time. But when I take up my pen and work creatively, I expose myself bravely and frankly even if it goes badly for me. In that respect, I believe I am more honest than most of what the world calls ‘good men.’ That is my way of working to be a man you can believe. And that’s where I take my pride as an artist.” Here Tanizaki lets in the immature Mizuno his shred of integrity.
Nevertheless, the homicide thriller doesn’t make sense as a result of there’s not anything in the plot that provides a rationale for the essential query of motivation at the back of the maximum critical motion a novelist can take — the dying of a personality. Why does Mizuno need the fictional Codama to die? Why does the Shadow Man need Mizuno to be in charge of a crime he didn’t devote and be performed? Why does Tanizaki need his central personality to die?
Well, there may be that precise dying. In 1927, a 12 months earlier than “In Black and White” used to be written and printed, Tanizaki engaged in a well-known literary spat with the author Ryunosuke Akutagawa, remembered now for having written the tales that shaped the foundation of Akira Kurosawa’s vintage movie “Rashomon.” To put the aesthetic combat in crude phrases, Tanizaki argued that plot mattered and Akutagawa disagreed. The spat went on for months in the pages of the literary mag Kaizo, and ended most effective when Akutagawa, age 35, killed himself through taking an overdose of barbiturates on Tanizaki’s birthday, July 24. The literary global used to be set aflutter with recriminations and cruel gossip. Within a 12 months, Tanizaki had began “In Black and White.” Although an English translation of the Japanese identify, “Kokubyaku,” method “black and white,” the phrase may be a homonym for kokuhaku, which means “confession.”