George Steiner: A Foreigner Who Visited Keio University

On April 13, 1974, at Haneda Airport before the opening of Narita, Mr. Steiner—a literary and cultural critic at the height of his powers—arrived as a guest of Keio University, accompanied by his wife Zara and daughter Deborah. Born in 1929, he was 45 years old at the time. However, despite the announcement of the flight's arrival, they did not appear in the arrival lobby. Just as Professor Shinsuke Ando of the Faculty of Letters and I, who were there to meet them, began to check our watches anxiously, an announcement echoed: "Professor Shinsuke Ando of Keio University, please come to the Immigration Office."

Professor Steiner, an American citizen who required a visa to visit Japan, had arrived from London without one. Had BOAC (now British Airways) failed to check his passport at the boarding gate? Soon after, at a seminar in Mita, he publicly declared, "My identity lies not in nations, people, or languages, but in the flow of time," revealing a mindset characteristic of his Jewish heritage. As an Austrian-Jewish family living in Paris during his childhood, they faced persecution by the Gestapo (the secret state police of Nazi Germany). Just before being sent to the Auschwitz concentration camp, his parents threw George through the window of a train bound for Paris; as a result, he was the only survivor. Steiner arrived in Japan with a powerful sense of purpose, asking: "The executioner at Auschwitz enjoys a Mozart record with a cigar in his room, and the next day, without any heartache, he flips the switch for the gas chambers. Is there culture there? What is civilization?" Looking back, it was only 30 years after the Holocaust. The issue of Auschwitz was the core of his criticism.

Ultimately, Steiner, who carried a formal invitation from President Hiroshi Kuno, appeared in the lobby, separated from the rock groups who had brought in drugs. He was granted a 48-hour temporary visa. It goes without saying that a formal visa was issued later. Steiner's first words upon arriving in Japan, "It was like a world of Kafka," still ring in my ears. His English, like his identity, had no regional accent. This is understandable when one considers his brilliant career: born and raised in Paris to German-speaking parents, studied at the French Lycée in New York, graduated from the University of Chicago in one year, earned a master's from Harvard and a doctorate from Oxford, served as an editor for *The Economist*, a researcher at Princeton, a professor at the same university, a Fulbright professor at the University of Innsbruck, an Extraordinary Fellow at the newly founded Churchill College at Cambridge, and his appointment as Professor of Comparative Literature at the University of Geneva around the same time as his visit to Japan.

Steiner came to Mita just as the student unrest of the 1960s was settling down. Up-and-coming researchers such as Kimiyoshi Yura, a professor at the Faculty of Economics (later a professor at the University of Tokyo), had translated his works like *Language and Silence: Essays on Language, Literature, and the Inhuman* (1967) one after another, so his ideas were being welcomed by the public. To utilize the Mantaro Kubota Foundation, the "young crowd" (those who had been busy resolving the student unrest) surrounding Dean Yasaburo Ikeda of the Faculty of Letters seemed to have moved to invite Steiner. I say "seemed to" because at the time I had just become an assistant and was merely acting as an errand boy for Professor Ando.

Under Professor Ando's leadership, a two-day seminar was held at Mita, attended by active mid-career figures from outside the university such as Shigeru Koike, Yoshiyuki Fujikawa, Yasunari Takahashi, Masao Yamaguchi, and Jun Eto, as well as famous figures like Rikutaro Fukuda, Kenzaburo Ohashi, Shigehiko Toyama, and Minako Oba. After Mr. Steiner's lecture, professors such as Takao Suzuki and Hideichi Matsubara joined the discussion. When Professor Suzuki asked, "What color is a rainbow?" Steiner quipped back, "Five colors, six colors, I don't know. The last poet to see a rainbow in England was Wordsworth." During the Q&A, he handled responses using English, French, and German. He showed the world what an internationally active scholar should look like.

After the public lectures and seminars with experts, opportunities for social gatherings and interviews with magazines such as *Eureka*, *The Study of English*, and *Shincho* were arranged. In a dialogue for the monthly magazine *Sekai* with critic Shuichi Kato, they had a heated debate, pounding on the table. On the other hand, at a traditional restaurant in Mukojima, there was a moment where he was enchanted by the refined performance of a geisha over 90 years old who played the shamisen with vigor. Steiner, a lover of classical music, attended an NHK Symphony Orchestra subscription concert invited by Professor Ando. He listened to Shostakovich's Symphony No. 7 "Leningrad" conducted by the composer's son, Maxim, but when the massive piece ended, he spat out, "How totalitarian." That night's program included another piece, Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 3, with Pollini as the soloist—a truly luxurious lineup.

Steiner, who requested time to speak with students, gave comments to graduate students of the Department of Literature with enjoyment, though sometimes with biting wit. I was given the opportunity to attend as a young faculty member to prepare for any unforeseen circumstances. When one male student complained, "I think studying literature at university is useful for society, but my family opposes it," Steiner replied without a moment's hesitation: "Studying literature is not useful for society. It is nothing but self-satisfaction. That is exactly why we should cherish this precious time. If you want to do literature for the rest of your life, marry a rich girl."

Steiner, born on April 23, celebrated his birthday ten days after arriving in Japan. That day happened to be the birthday and death anniversary of the great writer Shakespeare, the feast day of St. George (the patron saint of England), and it also coincided with Keio Foundation Day. Steiner, known as a formidable debater, was delighted by this coincidence and broke into a smile.

As his stay neared its end, Steiner reportedly said to Professor Ando: "Before coming here, I read Professor Chie Nakane's *Japanese Society* (1967, also a bestseller in English translation) and heard stories from Dr. Carmen Blacker (a Cambridge Japanologist who earned her doctorate with a thesis on Yukichi Fukuzawa) that Japan is a vertical society. I was told this repeatedly, but Keio seems different. Observing the behavior of you and Mr. Takamiya, it is free and open, exactly like the mentor-disciple relationships I see in Western society." He was indeed insightful, seeing through to the free and open atmosphere within Keio. Though, it might have been because I was walking around with a large frame and an air of confidence.

Steiner was a lecturer in English literature at Cambridge, but he was not promoted to professor and was not re-employed after his three-year term. His outspoken behavior likely drew backlash from conservative professors. Like F.R. Leavis and later Colin MacCabe, Steiner was driven out of Cambridge and became a professor of comparative literature at the University of Geneva. However, he continued to live in Cambridge thereafter, and when he returned home on weekends, I often witnessed him standing tall in front of the University Library on Saturday mornings before it opened. This was because I was also studying abroad in Cambridge for three years at that time. I would meet him at academic conferences or encounter him at Cambridge Station while waiting for a train to London. Each time, he would ask, "How is Mr. Ando?" Later, he maintained a family-wide friendship with Professor Ando's family when they stayed in Cambridge for a research sabbatical.

Professor Steiner seemed to be poor at sports due to the aftereffects of polio he contracted as a child, and he once suffered from heart failure. However, he continued his critical activities after that. Steiner, who played chess often, wrote a famous spectator's account titled *The Sporting Scene: White Knights of Reykjavik* (1973).

The impact Steiner left at Mita was as great as the visit of Sartre and Beauvoir to the Juku (1966). I was also greatly stimulated and immersed myself in reading his works. The most shocking remark Steiner made to me was during a seminar at Mita, when he glared with wide eyes and declared, "Lately, there are too many researchers who talk about Dante through T.S. Eliot's essays on Dante without actually reading Dante." It made my spine tingle. It was a time when modern critical theory was becoming popular, and Steiner, building on Leavis's *The Great Tradition* (1948), sought to restore the understanding of works within that tradition, and continued to sound the alarm against the tendency to play with the classics by brandishing critical theory. This had been passed down since his early collection of essays, *Language and Silence*.

Perhaps sensing a trend expecting him to publish a discourse on Japan or the Japanese people after his return—having debated with Japanese intellectuals, admired the cherry blossoms, and toured Kyoto during his short stay—Steiner said the following in a dialogue with cultural anthropologist Masao Yamaguchi: "There have been very famous people who came to Japan for the first time and stayed for only a very short period, yet wrote a book about Japan immediately upon their return; I simply do not want to make that mistake" (*Literature and the Language of Man: G. Steiner in Japan*). This was thought to be a sarcastic reference to the French philosopher Roland Barthes, who wrote *Empire of Signs* (1970).

The aftermath of Steiner's visit to the Juku continued until the end of the year. This was because *Literature and the Language of Man: G. Steiner in Japan* (Keio University Mita Bungaku Library), co-edited by Koji Shirai, Shin Wakabayashi, Miki Nakada, Shinsuke Ando, and Yasaburo Ikeda, was published. Professor Ando was the practical editor-in-chief, and the publication involved the entire English Department. For the Japanese translations of Steiner's lectures and dialogues, faculty members known as master translators such as Yoshinosuke Ohashi, Akira Yamamoto, Kimiyoshi Yura, and Hirokazu Kato were mobilized. Perhaps because this book is highly valued as a collection of materials, it still costs over 8,000 yen online, and as much as 18,000 yen if it is in good condition.

Looking at Wikipedia, I see that Steiner, now nearly 90 years old, is still alive, and his appearance has changed from the baby-faced look he had when he visited the Juku. His daughter Deborah, who was a beautiful girl then, is now a professor at Columbia University. Steiner, who fled from France to New York in the United States in 1940, obtained U.S. citizenship that year. I wonder how President Trump's immigration policies appeared in his eyes. I would like to expect the same sharp criticism as before.