Watanabe’s letter to Reiko
Norwegian WoodWatanabe’s letter to Reiko is his attempt to describe, without evasion, the simultaneous but profoundly different loves he feels for Naoko and Midori. Written after he realizes that his relationship with Midori has become decisive, the letter turns private confusion into a direct appeal for advice; its arrival also brings news about Naoko’s condition, joining emotional disclosure to the fragile possibility of recovery.
The occasion for writing
At home, Watanabe sits on the veranda watching rain fall on the garden while assembling phrases in his head. He then goes to his desk and writes. The scene makes the letter an act of deliberate reflection: rather than immediately explain himself to Naoko, whose condition makes such a disclosure impossible, he addresses Reiko, the person he can turn to for counsel.
The letter follows Watanabe’s recognition that his intimacy with Midori has become an expression of love, not a passing development he can simply set aside. Yet his feelings for Naoko have not disappeared. He still holds an inward space for her, making the problem more than a choice between a vanished attachment and a new one: both loves remain real to him, although they pull his life in different directions.
What the confession says
Watanabe begins by acknowledging how painful it is to have to write such a letter. He summarizes his relationship with Midori and explains what has happened between them. He describes his love for Naoko as quiet, gentle, and transparent, while the feeling for Midori has an independent, irresistible force that seems to carry him toward the future. The distinction does not invalidate either relationship; it exposes the difficulty of claiming sincerity while being unable to resolve the conflict sincerity reveals.
He insists that he has tried to live honestly and to avoid hurting other people, but does not use that account to excuse himself. Instead, he admits his confusion and asks Reiko what he should do, calling her the only person he can approach for advice. The letter’s defining gesture is therefore not a declaration that he has solved his dilemma, but a request that another person witness it and respond.
Delivery and reply
Watanabe posts the letter by special delivery that night. Reiko’s answer arrives five days later, dated 17 June. Its opening news sharply changes the immediate context of his confession: Naoko has been improving more rapidly than expected, and Reiko has spoken with her by phone, where Naoko sounded lucid. Reiko even raises the possibility that Naoko may soon return.
The reply does not erase the conflict Watanabe has disclosed. Instead, the news of improvement makes the question more urgent: the person he still loves may again be present in his life, even as his bond with Midori has taken on a decisive direction. The exchange places hope beside uncertainty rather than offering a clean resolution.
Honesty and its limits
The letter’s appeal to honesty sits within a larger understanding Watanabe has formed through bereavement: death is not simply separate from life, but part of it. Later, after Naoko’s death, he recognizes a further limit—that no truth, sincerity, strength, or kindness can cure the sorrow of losing someone. That later recognition gives the earlier letter a painful resonance. Candor can make the conflict speakable and invite companionship, but it cannot guarantee that love will spare anyone pain.
The letter also stands against Watanabe’s later withdrawal. After returning to Tokyo, he shuts himself in his room, his memory fixed on the dead rather than the living. Set beside that retreat, the letter records an earlier effort to reach outward: he names his divided attachments and asks for help, even though he cannot yet know what answer or consequence will follow.

