Gauche the Cellist and Other Stories
Kenji Miyazawa
Gauche the Cellist & Other Stories
Tales from a Japanese Dreamland: Book 2
by
Kenji Miyazawa & Nankichi Niimi
Copyright Paul Quirk 2013
Translated from - Serohiki no go-shu by Kenji Miyazawa
- Yodaka no hoshi by Kenji Miyazawa
- Yamanashi by Kenji Miyazawa
- Chuumon no ooi ryouriten by Kenji Miyazawa
- Tebukuro wo kai ni by Nankichi Niimi
Cover image: Gauche the Cellist by Tamie Oda
Discover other titles by Kenji Miyazawa and Nankichi Niimi published by Little J Books at https://www.littlejbooks.com/
Please note, copyright on the original works have expired, however, Little J Books holds all copyrights for these translations. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher. The moral right of the translator has been asserted.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. However, if you would like to use any of the stories that make up this ebook for business or educational purposes, please contact Paul at the email address below. We look forward to hearing from you.
This book is published by Little J Books
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Postal mail: 394-2 Kubohara, Yamaoka-cho, Ena-shi, Gifu-ken, Japan, Postcode 509-7601
Note on these translations
Where necessary chapters have been added to make navigation easier in an ebook format. Gauche the Cellist, for example, didn't originally contain any chapters.
Further notes on the translations will be added to the www.Littlejbooks.com website over time. Please email me if you have any questions!!
This series is dedicated to my wife Yuuki, who has provided me with the support and encouragement to make this project a reality.
Contents
Gauche the Cellist
The Nighthawk Star
Wild Pear – Yamanashi
The Restaurant of Many Orders
Buying Mittens
About the Authors
About Little J Books
Other Titles by Little J Books
Gauche the Cellist
by Kenji Miyazawa
Chapter One
Gauche played the cello in the orchestra for the town theater. But his reputation wasn’t very good. In fact he was the worst of all the musicians, so the conductor was always picking on him.
It was afternoon and the musicians were sitting in a circle backstage, rehearsing Symphony No. 6 that they were due to play in the upcoming town concert.
The trumpets sang out at the top of their voice.
The violins cried like the wind.
The clarinets blew with passion, cheering them on.
Gauche was staring wide-eyed at his music, his lips pursed tight, playing with total concentration.
The conductor clapped his hands together. Everyone stopped dead and the room fell silent.
“Cello! You’re behind!” the conductor yelled. “Start again from ♬-Toh-Teh-Teh, Teh-Teh-Ti-♬. Begin!”
They went back a little and started again. Gauche's face was bright red and sweat was streaming from his brow as they finally moved passed the section where the conductor had yelled at him. He gave a sigh of relief as they continued on, but suddenly the conductor clapped his hands together again.
“Cello, you're out of tune! Goodness! I haven't time to be teaching you Do-Re-Mi!”
Feeling sorry for Gauche, the other musicians pretended to be busy reading their sheet music and checking their instruments. Gauche hurriedly tuned his cello. Of course Gauche was to blame, but the cello was in pretty bad shape too.
“Start again from one bar back. Begin!”
They started again. Gauche was trying as hard as he could, his mouth screwed to one side. And this time they continued on for some time. But just as they were settling into a nice rhythm, the conductor made a terrifying face and clapped his hands a third time. Not again, thought Gauche with dread, but thankfully this time it was someone else. Like the others had done before, Gauche put his face in his music and pretended to be thinking about something.
“OK, let's move on to the next section. Begin.”
But just as they began to play, the conductor stamped his foot on the floor and began to yell.
“No, no, no! That's not it at all! This bit is the heart of the piece. Your timing is all over the place! People! There are only ten days to the concert. How can we call ourselves professional musicians if we sound worse than a group of blacksmiths or the boys from the sweets shop?!
“And Gauche! I don’t know what to do with you. Your music doesn’t have any emotion. There’s no anger, no pleasure, there’s no feeling to it at all! And why can’t you play in time with the other instruments?! It's like you’re always walking behind everyone with your shoelaces trailing behind you. It's not good enough and you’re going to have to do better. What a shame it would be for the rest of the musicians if the great Venus Orchestra got stuck with a bad reputation because of you.
“Alright, that's enough for today. Take your breaks and be back in the box by six sharp for tonight's performance.”
After bowing to the conductor the musicians started lighting their cigarettes or walking off for their breaks. Gauche held his battered old box-like cello, turned to face the wall, screwed up his mouth and burst into tears, but then, pulling himself together, he began to quietly play from the beginning the section they'd just been practicing now, all by himself.
