The Swindler, the Vanishing Man, and the Pretty Boys
0. Foreword
“Heaven does not create one person above or below another.” Neither this famous quote nor its famous author, Yukichi Fukuzawa, needs any introduction, but the fact of the matter is that Fukuzawa never wrote anything of the kind. Well, technically he did, but that was not at all his main point.
If you open to the first page of An Encouragement of Learning (yes, the equivalent of the very same page you’re currently reading in this book), you will indeed find those words printed on the first line, but what he has actually written is: “Heaven does not create one person above or below another, it is said,” after which he goes on to raise the question of why, despite this fact, the real world isn’t like that at all. In short, he argues that education widens the gap between people who start out as equals, so basically his point is, “If you want to be better than other people, then study”─which makes sense, given that his book is called An Encouragement of Learning.
But this lesson (which most people prefer not to face up to) has been totally ignored, and only the pleasant-sounding bit at the beginning has been picked up and passed down to future generations. Probably some well-intentioned but imprudent and slightly hasty egalitarian got hold of Fukuzawa’s book, and far from following his “encouragement” to actually learn from it, stopped at the first line, which must have been extremely vexing for the great author.
I’d been convinced that cherry-picking a few words from someone else’s writing, twisting them around to suit your own interests, and using them however you please was a thoroughly modern technique for the dissemination of information, but apparently it’s been a standard strategy of the human race for ages. Of course, if a certain delinquent master of satire heard me say that, he’d probably offer this rebuttal:
“Idiot, it’s only thanks to the profusion of that kind of cherry-picking that we can get away with a non-apology like, ‘I didn’t mean it that way, sorry if my words caused some kind of misunderstanding.’”
And then, he’d probably say this:
“What, you think you’ve figured out the essence of human nature or something? Aren’t you the one who started out by using that famous Yukichi Fukuzawa quote to expound on your pet theory? Stop acting like some kind of opinion columnist already.”
Dear oh dear.
But satire aside, he’s got a right to his opinion, even if he doesn’t have a column for it, and I’ll agree with him about one thing─who the hell am I to hold forth on the ways of the world?
So I’ll hurry up and get on with the story.
After all, a girl whose only claim to fame is her eyesight should keep her mouth shut unless she really knows her subject, which in my case means sticking to that delinquent master of satire and his compatriots in the Pretty Boy Detective Club.
But if you’ll allow me one small clarification, I didn’t quote Yukichi Fukuzawa to intimidate anyone─I did it because the story I’m about to tell concerns some pieces of paper bearing the likeness of none other than the famous author himself.