September 12
The world whose judgement we so fear is a hall full of mirrors. Each one throws an image back at you, and you run from one to the next to find out who you are. Whoever hunts like this loses their own measure.
The Misanthrope (freely rendered)
The Short Nose
The world whose judgement we so fear is a hall full of mirrors. Each one throws an image back at you, and you run from one to the next to find out who you are. Whoever hunts like this loses their own measure.
Naigu's nose hung down below his chin. When he ate, a disciple had to hold it up with a piece of wood. The priest searched the mirror for a more flattering angle; in other people's faces he searched for noses just as long.
In the end he had his nose dipped in hot water and worked over by a disciple's feet. The treatment succeeded. Above his upper lip there now sat an ordinary, short nose.
But people laughed harder than before. Even the disciple who had treated him burst out laughing in the middle of a conversation. Naigu grew irritable.
One morning he woke up with his old nose. He stepped out onto the veranda, felt it reaching down below his chin again, and was relieved. Now, he thought, people would surely not laugh at him any more.
