Yuuki Takiguchi and Naoko Yamazaki talk about novels of the 2000s. How they survived harsh criticism in literary magazines.

Around 2000, when I was a university student, I often read novels in the library. I first learned about the Bungei Prize through the profile of Suzuki Seigo [B], whose works I had read at the time. I wrote my first novel and submitted it when I was a senior in university. It only made it to the second round of selection, but I was happy just to have my title appear in the competition. So I continued to submit, and in 2004, my third attempt, I won and made my debut.

I think it must have been tough for newcomers at the time. The criticism was particularly harsh, and looking back now, some of it was clearly unfair.

It doesn't really matter now, but some of the things written were certainly quite harsh. I was grateful for the thorough criticism, though. Also, it wasn't just the kind of criticism that appeared in literary magazines; the online comments were also terrible at the time. Message boards and blogs such as 2channel were far more anonymous than they are today, and literacy was also low. I often consulted my editor.

What kind of conversations did you have with your editor when you first made your debut?

First of all, I was told, "Don't quit your job."

I feel the same way (laughs).

I'm right in the middle of the employment ice age generation [C]. After graduating from university, I worked part-time before moving on to full-time employment, but the pay was low. Even after becoming a writer, I worried that if my next work failed, I might have to go out of business. However, for young writers out there, it's actually okay even if you write a bad work. My serialized essay in a newspaper paid me 40,000 yen a week, the same as a company employee's 160,000 yen a month, so I ended up quitting my job after a year.

Working for a newspaper is a big financial support.

I also learned about the existence of the so-called five major literary magazines. That was the trigger that made me start to think about "pure literature."

When I made my debut, "pure literature" was actually a mixture of many different genres and elements. I had a vague sense that the place where I wrote was "pure literature magazines." But I also wondered what "pure" meant in the first place.

The atmosphere at the time seemed to demand that writers not write what they wanted to write or what would sell, but that they dedicate their writing to the gods of literature, and that they themselves write with the feeling that they don't know where the next line will lead. Sayaka Murata is a genius, and I felt that "this person is pure literature." Being able to connect with Murata and other writers of my generation has been a valuable experience that I continue to have today.

Horizontal connections between artists like that are also important.

Participating in the Japan-China Young Writers Conference [D] was particularly memorable. It was a gathering where young Japanese and Chinese writers gathered to deepen exchanges through the presentation of their works.

The group was originally started by Kenzaburo Oe.

I participated in 2006 and 2010. I got to know people like Nishi Kanako, Nakamura Fumino, and Erika Kobayashi, who debuted around the same time and were of a similar generation. They taught me how to interact with editors and proofreaders.

Nakamura-san was on the selection committee when I received the Shincho New Writer's Award, and he himself is a former Shincho New Writer's Award winner. He apparently said that Shincho should create more opportunities for award winners to connect with each other. Perhaps that was because of his connections with Yamazaki-san and everyone else.

Nakamura-san, you say something good. I really think connections are important. Nishi-san once said, "We should all work together to build a shelf of Japanese literature." It's really encouraging to know that I'm not alone, that everyone is there for me.

As I was listening to you talk, I got the impression that which award you debut with can make a big difference in your later experiences. The Bungei Prize also has an awards ceremony where past winners gather. Also, since the winning work is published as a book, there are opportunities to be interviewed immediately after debuting, which may present its own challenges. I get the impression that the Bungei Prize has always provided a lot of support for development.

Perhaps there have been fewer parties recently due to the COVID-19 pandemic and the current economic situation. New writers may be finding other ways to meet people without relying on publishers. Editors of my generation when I made my debut were elites who survived the ice age, but recently I feel that the value of work is changing, with many of them going independent or seeking work at smaller companies. As a freelancer, I too have had to change the way I work due to circumstances. I've also begun to question the working environment in pure literature, where there are many rewrites and income is delayed.

Even if major revisions are needed, there are times when you have to push yourself when the deadline is approaching.

In any case, we can look forward to the changing times. Books are taking on a variety of forms, such as social media and literary flea markets. Even if a publisher doesn't publish a book, it's still "literature." Personally, I want to write good book reviews for the next generation and pioneer ways to make a living even without literary awards.