In this blog post, I’ll share my reflections on Osamu Dazai’s ‘No Longer Human’ and discuss the messages of loneliness and empathy conveyed by the work.
Book Review
‘No Longer Human’: The confession of a man who feared even happiness. It is the masterpiece of Japanese novelist Osamu Dazai (1909–1948), completed shortly before he took his own life. Just as its provocative and intense title suggests, this novel is widely known not only in Japan but also in Korea. Over the years, various translations have been published, and it has steadily built a loyal readership; it has also been adapted into films multiple times. A few years ago, a famous manga artist even adapted the original work into a manga, and with cumulative sales exceeding 10 million copies, this work has established Dazai as a leading figure in modern Japanese literature.
When I first read this book (I recall it was about a decade ago), it struck me simply as the extreme story of a character with a melancholic disposition. However, upon rereading it this time, I found myself feeling a deeper sense of empathy and compassion for the protagonist, Yojō. Yojō, who fears the world and is constantly anxious because he doesn’t know how to communicate with others, endlessly questions how he should live and why he should live at all.
Yojō’s Mask and Acting
Although Yojō lives as a human being, he does not know what it means to live like a human, so he constantly puts on a performance. Not wanting to be cut off from others, he devises comedy as a last-ditch effort to connect and strives to live as if wearing a mask and putting on a performance. Yet, despite his efforts, his inability to fully comprehend human life—and his eventual descent into ruin—is by no means unfamiliar.
In the novel, Yōzō dreads mealtimes with his family and is disappointed by the calculating nature of Horiki, whom he believed to be a friend. Even when he attempted suicide, his family did not come to see him in person but instead had a representative handle the aftermath. These scenes suggest that the fundamental cause of Yōzō’s self-destruction was the absence of genuine communication. If someone had sincerely reached out to this sensitive young man and listened to his story, the course of his life might have been different.
Rereading and Newly Evoked Emotions
As I revisited the same passages repeatedly during this rereading, I felt emotions emerge on a different level than when I first read the book. Rereading gives one the opportunity to linger longer with the text. In the process, Yōjō’s anxiety and compassion became clearer, and the loneliness hidden behind his mask felt even more profound.
As I reread this work, with its unique Dazai-style prose intertwined with autobiographical elements, I felt as though I were standing even closer to Yōzō’s inner world. Throughout my close reading, I couldn’t shake the thought that his awkward social skills, sense of victimization, and frustrations in communication are not merely the problems of a fictional character, but also issues of our own time.
A Space for Empathy in Our Lives Today
In today’s world, where life feels increasingly difficult, we encounter countless people like Yozo all around us. It is an era where marriage is postponed due to employment difficulties, and it is common to hear that even sustaining one’s own livelihood is a struggle. As single-person households increase, issues such as deaths from loneliness are on the rise, and we frequently hear news of people who, unable to bear the weight of loneliness and suffering, choose to end their own lives.
However, if there is one thing we as human beings can do amid such difficulties, it is to show empathy and communicate. When the person next to us sends a signal in their own way, even a small gesture of empathy or a simple act of communication can be a great source of solace. I believe these small acts of kindness are precisely what we need as we navigate the present—they embody what it truly means to be human.
