Like many who have studied Japanese, my first encounter with the literary giant Soseki Natsume was his classic novel, Botchan. While the specifics of the story have faded over the years, my fascination with the man himself has only grown. This fascination has led me not to his books, but to a more permanent residence: his final resting place in Zoshigaya Cemetery.
Soseki’s fame is enduring. Though he passed away in 1916, his works have been translated into numerous languages. The critically-acclaimed Haruki Murakami considers him a favorite writer. For two decades, from 1984 to 2004, his portrait graced the 1000 yen note, cementing his place in the national consciousness.
The headstone is unique. It resembles a comfortable armchair. Soseki died of a stomach ulcer, and it was painful for him to sit in the last months of his life. Does he use it to sit comfortably in the afterlife?
It is #39 on the map available at the administration office.
Many other famous people lie near him. Hideki Tojo is only a short walk away. Ginko Ogino and Lafcadio Hearn are near, too. Others are mentioned on the map. He is not alone. Quite a few cats keep them company. Maybe they love being near the writer of “I am a Cat”?
I admit I don’t visit Soseki that often, maybe twice a year. But I drop by and say hello if I’m in the area. Of course, I take photos. Once, a family group with their grandmother, was there.
The grandmother started talking to me about Soseki. Like many Japanese, she had no idea that people overseas knew him. Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed my hand. She wrapped her Buddhist prayer beads around it and implored me to pray. I tried politely to worm my way out of the situation. But she wouldn’t have a bar of it.
If you didn’t know, I’m somewhere between atheist and agnostic. I go to a shrine on New Year’s Day because I enjoy the experience, but it’s not to pray. It’s not my thing. But this lady caught me off-guard, and I ended up doing it. I put it down as one of those “Only in Japan” experiences. It was strange.
My visits to Soseki’s grave have given me some insight into his enduring influence. His unique armchair-like headstone seems fitting for a man whose occupation was writing. It serves as a reminder of his impact on literature and culture. He bridged generations and continents.
But my most profound insight into Soseki’s legacy didn’t come from the stone itself. It came from the grandmother who grabbed my hand, her prayer beads a tangible link to the past.
Her spontaneous reverence proved that Soseki is not just a historical figure. He is a living presence, still inspiring connection and wonder. That strange, unforgettable moment showed me that his influence hasn’t just bridged generations and continents. It is still felt, deeply and personally, in the quiet corners of a Tokyo cemetery.
Rohan has photographed Tokyo since 2011. He shoots it with his Canon EOS R5. The project will take more than one lifetime to complete.