Sayako Nagai: Winning the 169th Naoki Prize for Historical Fiction

Thank you. In 2020, I wanted to create a work worthy of my 10th anniversary since debut, so I had been writing intensely since around 2019. That was "Akinau Ookami: Edo Shonin Sugimoto Mojuro" (2020).

The first proofs came out around February 2020, and by June, there were prospects for publication. My editor asked if I wanted to wait until the COVID-19 pandemic settled down, but with the future so uncertain, I felt there was no point in waiting and decided to release it. Just as I finished writing "Akinau Ookami" and thought I'd have a little free time, the pandemic hit, and I entered a life of seclusion.

That's right. In 2019, I still had freelance writing work, but while serializing "Akinau Ookami," I gradually reduced the number of media outlets I was writing for.

People around me were saying things like, "Are you still doing that (freelance writing)?" Editors of literary books also told me they wanted me to do it properly, and my resolve as an author began to solidify.

I was told that when I debuted with "Karakuri Shinju" (2010). After that, I hesitated, wondering if it would be better to gradually steer toward novels, or if it might be good to keep writing novels while continuing as a writer. I enjoyed doing both.

Exactly. It wasn't that I had a strong desire to switch to being an author, but freelance writing often involves working in groups, and things didn't always go according to my convenience. When I was involved in producing things like mooks, the novels would get pushed to the back burner, and editors would tell me that was a problem.

Yes. There were fewer opportunities to go out for interviews, so I was able to concentrate on novels. In 2020, when I was thinking about writing something about the Kamakura period, it was decided that the Taiga drama "The 13 Lords of the Shogun" would be produced. I had been proposing stories about the Kamakura period to various publishers until then, but they wouldn't let me write them. When I brought it to a publisher at the same time as the Taiga drama, they agreed to release it, and that became "Nyonin Jugen."

I was planning to submit this work if I couldn't debut with "Karakuri Shinju." Since I had already collected the materials, I started writing it in earnest with the intention of riding the wave of the Taiga drama.

I think it was fine for readers to read it while overlapping the characters with Eiko Koike, who played Hojo Masako. I wrote it with the feeling of wanting people to enjoy it alongside the Taiga drama, so I was surprised when it became a Naoki Prize candidate.

I was truly happy. The result was runner-up, but I thought it would be scary to win immediately upon becoming a candidate. With "Nyonin Jugen," I dealt with women's history, and I felt it might be a bit restrictive if I became established as "the person who writes women's history"... so in the end, I think winning on my second nomination was best.

That said, I didn't write "Kobikicho no Adauchi" with the intention of winning a literary prize. For "Akinau Ookami," I wanted a prize to mark my 10-year milestone, but "Kobikicho no Adauchi" was a work I wrote purely for fun.

I love theater and rakugo, so I wrote this work set in a theater hoping people would enjoy reading it. It's a work I was able to write without much suffering.

My experience handling an introductory Kabuki series for "Nikkei Entertainment!" might be playing a role. I interviewed Ichikawa Somegoro (now Matsumoto Koshiro) and wrote about things like what Matsubame-mono is or what Aragoto is.

I went to the Kanamaru-za in Shikoku for research, and after watching "Onnagoroshi Abura no Jigoku," I was shown backstage. That was the first time I could see the naraku (trapdoor area) up close, and I was thrilled to see the excitement of the staff cleaning up.

Yes. Being able to see the mechanism of the naraku was a truly significant experience in terms of grasping the sense of distance from the stage.

I myself love plays very much and frequently visit theaters. Actually, when I quit the Sankei Shimbun, which I joined after graduating from university, after about six months, there was a period when I couldn't write at all. It was so hard that even reading text was painful, but I was able to go to theaters and art museums.

I've often watched plays at small theaters around Shimokitazawa since my student days. When I quit the newspaper company, I wanted to work backstage and even participated in a workshop for NODA MAP, led by Hideki Noda. I probably just wanted some kind of catalyst. I applied for the time being and somehow passed the selection. When I participated, there were many serious theater people, and I was made to read scripts (laughs).

I liked Kanzaburo Nakamura and Hideki Noda, and I had been watching NODA MAP's predecessor, Yume no Yuminsha, since I was a junior high student, and I even went to their final performance. Then, around the time I quit the newspaper company, Mr. Noda and Mr. Kanzaburo did the Kabuki Kyogen play "Togitatsu no Utare."

This had a deep impact on me. Mr. Kanzaburo came out wearing camouflage hakama, and I felt he had started something amazing. Feeling that Mr. Noda was questioning what revenge really is in that work became the catalyst for me to think about revenge.

A senior writer once told me, "An interview starts the moment the door opens and they walk in." They told me to capture even the atmosphere of when the person enters the room in the manuscript. In "Kobikicho no Adauchi," I wanted to make that kind of atmosphere felt through the characters' tone of voice.

I wanted to create the fun of the story progressing with the reader acting as the listener, like in a role-playing game.

It's not exactly spirit possession, but it's like the characters are living in my brain (laughs). Since I spend a long time thinking to begin with, those moments come when I'm writing. When that happens, I can just go with it, but conversely, when I'm not fully convinced, I'm refining it a lot. It seems things don't go well unless I've reached the point where the characters start talking on their own.

The catalyst for me going to rakugo solo performances was a rakugo channel I listened to on a plane when I was a student. I was invited by someone who helped me during my writer days, and I went every month for a year and a half to the solo performance series "Rakugo Kaido Kumosuke Gojusan-tsugi" by Itsukaido Kumosuke, who later became a Living National Treasure, and even visited the dressing room. I'm a hardcore fan who joined the fan club and goes to book-signing events (laughs).

I loved writing, so I wanted to become one. I used to play around by creating fan fiction of the Bible or drawing four-panel manga featuring Matthew the tax collector with a side-parted hairstyle (laughs).

I think the fact that I started writing novels in junior high, won a prize for a children's story, and won a student competition prize for a novel was significant. Actually, I applied to many competitions during my university days too.

I was secretly writing historical novels without telling anyone (laughs).

My major was Human Sciences. Since I write historical novels, people assume I was a Major in Japanese Literature, but I had the impression that few authors who win newcomer awards write historical fiction, so I chose "Jin-ka" (Human Sciences) so that I could also write contemporary novels. When I started thinking about employment, I learned that many authors work in the media, so I also joined Media Com.

It was Professor Paul Kobayashi's seminar. We were reading linguistics and philosophy texts by people like Saussure and Baudrillard.

Above all, it seemed interesting, but reading newspapers thoroughly was very rewarding. In the Oishi seminar, we would just stare at newspapers and have endless discussions on how to handle a single theme. It was very interesting to be in the Faculty of Letters and also acquire a foundation in political science.

Professor Oishi is usually relaxed at drinking parties and such, but then he'll start saying, "No, look," and fire off sharp comments. The feeling of being suddenly woken up is truly amazing.

In my fourth year, in addition to my graduation thesis for the Faculty of Letters and my graduation thesis for Media Com, I was also writing a submission for a newcomer award. That one made it quite far in a certain historical fiction prize, but it didn't lead to a debut.

I chose Bukkyo University because I wanted to be able to write historical pieces. I have confidence that I've read the Bible, but for Buddhism, I felt I had to understand the classics. However, there's a limit to just reading books. When I thought about why I was able to understand Christianity, I realized it was because I actually asked the "people inside," so I entered a two-year correspondence education course.

Exactly. So I thought I'd ask the people inside about Buddhism too.

It also deepens understanding of temples, Buddhist statues, gardens, tea, landscape paintings, and so on. When I consulted a professor saying I wanted to understand the fundamental parts of Buddhism, including folk beliefs like setsuwa literature, they told me it's best to go back to the origins and suggested I research the Nara-period "Nihon Ryoiki."

Yes, it's a sect from around the 7th century called the Hosso sect. It's the world of the Yogacara (Consciousness-Only) theory. At first, I thought about reading "Konjaku Monogatari," but according to the professor, "Konjaku" is influenced by "Nihon Ryoiki." So, they said it's better to do "Nihon Ryoiki." They also said Tengu beliefs are interesting, so how about researching Tengu? It felt like seeds for novels were rolling around everywhere.

The one who influenced me the most was Michiko Nagai. Then Seiko Tanabe, Sohachi Yamaoka, and Ryotaro Shiba, I suppose.

That's right. Not that I was exactly following in his footsteps (laughs), but I did research the backgrounds of historical novelists during my job hunt. Since Michiko Nagai had been at Shogakukan, I probably thought that joining a newspaper or publishing company would be the right path.

My university days were when people like Miyuki Miyabe, Keigo Higashino, Fuyumi Ono, and Natsuhiko Kyogoku were emerging, and I was also writing mysteries and horror.

Of course I research, but if I do it too much, I can become unable to move. My approach is to research as much as I can, and once I reach a point where nothing more comes out, I write with my imagination.

A common analogy I use is Godzilla. The reason he looks plausible is because everything other than Godzilla is real. If you're going to set something extraordinary, you should make the other parts in detail. With that in mind, when I include elements that are not historical facts, I try to write the other parts meticulously.

Research has also become very convenient as the National Diet Library's database progressed during the pandemic. I also use enpaku (Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum, Waseda University), and I try to visit the settings of my stories as much as possible. When I can't, I walk them on Google Maps (laughs).

When I set the serialization "Kiran Fugetsu" in the Sankei Shimbun in Shizuoka, I went to Kakegawa, Nissaka, and Sayo no Nakayama. I walk the distances that can be walked, and otherwise, I get the feeling of having walked them through Google Maps.

I want to aim for works that will be translated overseas. Just as we read "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" or Sherlock Holmes, I believe entertainment dealing with Japanese history can also be successful abroad. To that end, I'm currently thinking about what the universality is for writing such works.

For example, I'm thinking about whether the sakayaki (shaved pate) style would be accepted in Netflix-style content, how to make it look cool to people overseas, or whether to handle eras other than Edo.