Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

Chapter 72 The Invitation from "Literature and Art" (Sixth Update)

Early in the morning, the usually orderly newsstands at major train stations in Tokyo were broken by an unprecedented burst of hurried footsteps.

Elites who usually only care about financial indices and international affairs, or office workers who are used to closing their eyes and resting during their commute, are now completely disregarding their usual civility and restraint.

They crowded around the newsstand in a hurry, and couldn't even wait to board the tram before eagerly unfolding the newspapers in their hands.

What attracted them was not the usual entertainment gossip, but Kitahara Iwa, who captivated all of Japan with his cool talent on television last night.

People held their breath and opened their newspapers; the sight that came into view made everyone's pupils contract.

Surprisingly, the most prominent image on the front page of the newspaper wasn't a photo of the Naoki Prize winner shaking hands to receive the award, but rather Iwao Kitahara!

From the usually serious and solemn political and economic newspaper Sankei Shimbun to the flamboyant and eye-catching Sports Weekly, the front-page photos invariably feature the figure of Kitahara Iwao alone.

In the video, Kitahara Iwa sits in the center of the press conference, his slender fingertips steadily adjusting the microphone, his expression calm and composed.

The bold headline, spanning the entire page, directly quotes his powerful declaration from last night that resonated throughout Japan, its words conveying a powerful sense of scrutiny of the times:

"The vitality of a literary work should not merely rest on waiting for an award. — Kitahara Iwao's 'Confession' sparks a nationwide debate!"

As for the second page of the newspaper, it featured a large close-up of the Naoki Prize winner. Although it retained a place, the length of the article seemed somewhat cramped.

The photos of this year's winners, Akira Sasakura and Masakazu Fuji, receiving their awards have been significantly reduced in size on the page, even being squeezed to the edge near the fold-out.

It is clear that in order to make room for Kitahara Iwa, the media even temporarily shortened the long interview originally scheduled for the winner.

The Naoki Prize winner, who has been highly sought after by the literary world for many years, has never received such treatment.

Meanwhile, in a secluded mansion in Kyoto, the atmosphere in the sandalwood-scented tea room was even colder than the autumn wind outside.

Snapped!

A newspaper from this morning was thrown heavily onto the tatami mat, its pages scattered, with Kitahara Iwa's face prominently displayed in the center.

Looking at Kitahara Iwa in the newspaper, Katsuragi Yoichi's hand, which usually held a pointer and official documents, trembled slightly.

He stared intently at the glaring headline about literary value in the newspaper. After a long while, he slowly raised his head and looked at the media mogul in Kyoto in front of him.

"Nijo-kun, what happened to all those press releases you issued?"

Yoichi Katsuragi took a deep breath to calm the turbulent emotions surging in his chest, then looked up at the old man in front of him and asked in a cold voice.

The corner of Nijo Tadashi's mouth twitched as he sat in front of her, and he awkwardly avoided her gaze.

His prepared critical articles, denouncing Kitahara Iwa's commercial gimmicks and his reputation as a literary cancer, didn't even make it through the morning meetings of major newspapers this morning.

"Faced with the tsunami-like level of discussion surrounding 'Confessions,' all those articles were removed by the editorial office."

Nijo Tadashi lowered his voice, his tone revealing a deep sense of frustration, and said, "Several newspapers' logistics staff even said that they saw our press releases being used as scrap paper to line coffee cups and thrown directly into the trash can."

However, there were some things that Tadashi Nijo didn't mention, because a few small literary newspapers that had reluctantly published smear articles due to personal connections were now sitting alone on the bottom shelf of the street newspaper rack.

To the readers who frantically bought newspapers, these sour criticisms were nothing more than the dying ravings of an old era.

Upon hearing this, Ge Chengyang suddenly stood up, walked a few steps to the window, pushed open the carved wooden window, and stared intently at the withered lotus leaves in the courtyard that were dying in the autumn wind. His eyes were filled with gloom and resentment.

They originally thought that as long as Kitahara Iwa was eliminated, they could easily label him as second-rate.

Unexpectedly, Kitahara Iwa didn't need their approval at all.

This young man bypassed the evaluation system they had cultivated for decades with an almost tyrannical destructive force.

Tokyo, Shinchosha Building.

When Editor-in-Chief Sato stepped into the gates of Shinchosha, the wave of air he was met almost gave him the illusion that he had stepped into a war command post.

The once quiet publishing house lobby was now completely drowned out by a tsunami of high-frequency telephone ringing.

The operators were practically standing while answering calls, their earphone cords tangled between their fingers. Their conversations were all strikingly identical: "Yes, this is Shincho-sha—the additional stock of 'Confessions' is being allocated! Please wait patiently!"

Everyone was so busy that their voices were hoarse, and even having time to drink water became a luxury.

The bookstore's order fax machine in the corner seemed to have gone mad, with long lines of orders printed with restocking needs from bookstores all over the country dragging on the floor, accompanied by the clicking and clattering of the machine.

The snow-white papers piled up quickly on the ground because of the rapid speed at which they were being spit out, forming a thick little mountain. Each paper was clearly marked with the title "Confession".

Seeing this, Editor-in-Chief Sato hurriedly went into his office, pulled out a chair and sat down, and immediately grabbed the mountain of distribution reports on his desk and threw himself into his work.

Just as Editor-in-Chief Sato was completely absorbed in his work, the office door was suddenly pushed open.

A staff member rushed in, panting, clutching a fax paper with the edges still untrimmed. His voice was filled with barely concealed astonishment as he exclaimed, "Editor-in-Chief Sato!"

"This is an urgent fax from the editorial department of 'Literature' magazine, Kawade Shobo!"

"What?"

Upon hearing this, Editor-in-Chief Sato frowned immediately, and his heart skipped a beat.

At this critical juncture, why would the literary and artistic circles, which are known for their aloofness and avant-garde nature, suddenly send a fax?

As Editor-in-Chief Sato took the fax, his face, which had been tense from his busy work, froze as he looked up at the symbol of authority.

His gaze was fixed on those few lines of text, his pupils contracting violently from extreme shock.

He originally thought it was just some kind of official business, but the paper clearly stated: Due to the needs of the "Showa to Heisei Relay" special issue planning, the editorial department of "Literature" has unanimously decided to invite Mr. Kitahara Iwao to write the opening special article.

"This—how is this possible?"

Editor-in-Chief Sato murmured incoherently, the thin fax paper trembling slightly at his trembling fingertips.

In the history of "Literature and Art" magazine, which places great emphasis on literary lineage and seniority, this act of proactively extending an invitation to a special issue to a young person who had only been nominated for the Naoki Prize and whose foundation was still shallow was indeed a rare breakthrough that broke through a certain unspoken barrier.

This is no longer just a routine commissioned article.

At this moment, it can be said that this organization, which has a very high aesthetic discourse power in the literary world, is formally bringing Kitahara Iwa into their field of vision through this unconventional invitation.

They were clearly aware of the power of the social discussion sparked by "Confessions".

For Kitahara Iwa at present, this is undoubtedly a very important entry ticket.

At that moment, Editor-in-Chief Sato felt a surge of heat rush to his brain, and his heart pounded with extreme astonishment.

Then he grabbed the phone and, his fingers moving with excitement, dialed Kitahara Iwa's number.