Unhappiness

Unhappiness is the fundamental texture of Yozo's existence in No Longer Human, a condition so pervasive that it shapes every relationship, every decision, and every attempt at escape. It is not the result of external calamities but an internal, self-perpetuating state that Yozo himself describes as stemming entirely from his own vices, leaving him with no way to fight against it or even to protest his fate. This unhappiness is the lens through which he views the world, the source of his clowning, his addictions, and his ultimate conviction that he has been disqualified from the human race.

The Nature of Yozo's Unhappiness

Yozo's unhappiness is not a reaction to specific events but a congenital condition, a wound that appeared in infancy and only deepened with time, reaching the bone. He describes his life as one of "much shame," a phrase that opens his notebooks and establishes the tone for everything that follows. From childhood, he felt that his concept of happiness was completely at variance with that of everyone else, a realization so terrifying that it drove him to the brink of lunacy and made him toss sleeplessly night after night. He was burdened, he believed, with a pack of ten misfortunes, any one of which, if borne by his neighbor, would be enough to make a murderer of him. Yet he could not understand the nature of his neighbor's woes, suspecting that their griefs might not be genuine if they could survive without killing themselves or going mad. This inability to comprehend the ordinary struggles of others left him isolated in a private hell, convinced that he alone was entirely unlike the rest of humanity.

The Origin in Fear and Clowning

Yozo's unhappiness is rooted in a mortal dread of human beings, a fear so profound that it made him incapable of argument or self-justification. The least word of reproof struck him with the force of a thunderbolt, and he saw in the face of a raging human being a wild animal more horrible than any lion or crocodile. To survive, he invented clowning as his "last quest for love," a desperate performance designed to make others laugh and thereby keep them at a safe distance. He maintained a smile that never deserted his lips, but this accommodation was achieved only at the cost of excruciating internal efforts. His clowning was a form of passive service, a way to avoid the terrifying silences and the cataclysmic changes in atmosphere that he feared. Yet this very strategy deepened his unhappiness, for it meant that he was perpetually deceiving others, and the more he was liked, the more he feared being discovered.

The Inevitable Descent

Yozo's unhappiness is not a static condition but a downward spiral that intensifies with each failed attempt at connection. He finds temporary relief in prostitutes, whom he sees as imbeciles or lunatics, and in whose arms he can sleep soundly, but this relief is fleeting and leaves him with an offensive atmosphere that attracts women in ways he cannot control. His involvement with the Marxist movement offers a sense of belonging, but it is based on his fascination with irrationality rather than genuine conviction, and it eventually becomes a burden. His love for Tsuneko, the only person he ever truly loved, ends in a suicide attempt that leaves her dead and him saved, a result that fills him with longing and grief. His marriage to Yoshiko, a girl whose immaculate trustfulness he prizes, is shattered when she is violated, an event that cleaves him between the eyebrows and turns his hair prematurely grey. Each of these episodes confirms his belief that he is a "social outcast," a designation he feels has applied to him from the moment of his birth.

The Final Stages: Addiction and Institutionalization

As his unhappiness deepens, Yozo turns to alcohol and then to morphine, which initially seems to sweep away his insecurity and fretfulness but soon becomes a new form of bondage. He becomes an out-and-out addict, copying pornographic pictures to obtain money for the drug and having an ugly affair with the crippled pharmacist who supplies it. He reaches a point where he feels that living itself is the source of sin, and he decides to kill himself. His father's death, when it comes, eviscerates him, leaving him feeling as though the vessel of his suffering has become empty. He is committed to a mental hospital, where he realizes that he has become a lunatic in the eyes of the world, forever branded with the word "madman" or "reject." In the end, he is sent to live in a dilapidated house by the sea, looked after by an ugly old servant, and he concludes that he has neither happiness nor unhappiness, only the single truth that everything passes. This final state is not a resolution but a cessation, a surrender to the condition that has defined his entire life.