In this blog post, I will examine Ryunosuke Akutagawa’s major short stories one by one to summarize the core themes of each work and offer guidance on how to approach them.

Rashomon (1915)

Although this work is more widely known through Akira Kurosawa’s film ‘Rashomon’, the setting of Rashomon carries strong symbolic significance in the original novel. While “In the Thicket”—which serves as the main body of the film—forms the core of the story, the opening and closing scenes of the novel, set against the backdrop of the ruins of Rashomon, reveal the desolation of human existence. The film concludes with a servant offering to take in and raise a newborn abandoned at Rashomon, thereby restoring faith in humanity—an ending tailored to the sensibilities of popular cinema.
The ruined Rashomon is a place where animals roam and corpses lie abandoned—nothing more than a shelter for passersby seeking refuge from the rain. This landscape serves as a backdrop that starkly illustrates the devastation of human life. The relentless rain offers respite to the well-fed but only adds to the suffering of the hungry. It would be difficult to find a more desolate landscape of human existence than this.
In the story, the servant climbs to the second-floor pavilion and encounters an old woman plucking hair from a corpse, which enrages him. When the old woman explains that she is plucking the hair to make wigs, the servant uses this as justification that he, too, can commit evil, so he snatches her clothes and flees. This is the moment when a life that had passively awaited starvation in the rain transforms into an active life that boldly kicks through the rain and steps back into the world.
The woman who deceived people to sell snake meat, the old woman plucking that woman’s hair to sell as a wig, and the servant who threatens the old woman, strips her of her clothes, and flees—the world appears as a chain of evil. However, from another perspective, one can also discern a form of interdependence: the servant makes a living thanks to the old woman, the old woman earns money thanks to the woman’s corpse, and the woman survives thanks to the person who was deceived. This suggests that what is more frightening than hatred or sin is the severing of these chains—that is, indifference or alienation.
Even the stripped-naked old woman still has a chance at life. This is because some of the corpses are clothed, and there are still many other female corpses. In this sense, ‘Rashomon’ can perhaps be read as the “Gate of Life.”

‘The Nose’ (1916)

This work is regarded as the decisive turning point that led Akutagawa to pursue a career as a novelist, thanks to a letter of high praise from Natsume Sōseki. Early in his career, Akutagawa was likened to an “illegitimate child” born of Sōseki and Mori Ōgai; this meant that Akutagawa embodied both Ōgai’s approach to adapting classical material into fiction and Sōseki’s focus on human egoism.
As the author himself appears directly in the text to label it “the selfishness of the bystander,” the story reveals the inner wickedness of humanity—the tendency to sympathize with others’ misfortunes while simultaneously treating them as a spectacle to be enjoyed. However, relying solely on the author’s explanation might make this interpretation feel somewhat forced.
Viewed in this light, the story can also be interpreted as follows: although the monk had attained a high status on the surface, he lacked true enlightenment; it was only after experiencing the incident of having his nose shortened that he finally overcame his attachment to his nose and attained enlightenment. The fact that others mocked his shortened nose may not have been mere bystander scorn, but rather because the narrow-mindedness of the eminent monk—who had been obsessed with his “big nose”—was exposed, making him appear ridiculous.

Two Letters (二つの手紙, 1917)

Critics believe this work was inspired by “The Last Will of Andreas Tamayel” (Schnitzler), which was translated and introduced by Mori Ōgai. The story, which unfolds around the intriguing theme of a doppelgänger, features an unfortunate man who struggles desperately not to doubt his wife’s fidelity. At the end of his struggle to deny reality lies the extreme escape of madness.
The narrator of this work is also portrayed as a teacher of “ethics” and English, linking it thematically to works such as “Doubt.” The woman’s (the wife’s) betrayal and the man’s resulting anguish reach their climax, much like in “In the Bush.”
The concluding sections of this work and “Doubt” share a similar tone: the anxiety that at any moment, something like a monster or a virus within our minds could become active and cause our sanity to collapse. The fact that the author’s mother went mad cast a dark shadow over him for the rest of his life, which also explains this anxiety.

Hell Screen (Jigoku-hen, 1918)

A novella serialized in the Osaka Mainichi Shimbun, this work incorporates elements of mystery, making its plot anything but simple. Many consider it Akutagawa’s finest work. The central axis of this story is the conflict within Yoshihide—his internal struggle—and his external conflict, namely his clash with the minister.
Within Yoshihide, two distinct personality layers coexist: “Yoshihide the man” and “Yoshihide the monkey.” Driven by an instinctive desire to protect his daughter as a father and prevent her from being raped, “Yoshihide the monkey” goes so far as to jump into a burning cart with her, leading to his own death. In contrast, “Yoshihide the Man” adopts the attitude of an art-for-art’s-sake artist, viewing others merely as models and even attempting to capture the very scene of his daughter’s burning death in a painting.
Externally, there is the conflict between the minister and Yoshihide. While an ordinary father would hope his daughter would live well under the minister’s favor, Yoshihide stands in opposition to the minister in an effort to protect his daughter; he repeatedly asks to be relieved of his duties but is refused. Ultimately, the central question of the work is what extreme measures Yoshihide took to protect his daughter. The daughter is depicted in the midst of a hellish scene, and the battle of wills between the two men—waged at the cost of the innocent daughter’s life—can be considered the protagonists of this work.

Mandarin Orange (1919)

This work is regarded as a short yet beautiful piece. Yellow is the color of light, and just as the painter Van Gogh frequently used “the blue of sorrow” alongside “the yellow of hope,” yellow leaves a powerful impression on those who are deeply sorrowful. It brings to mind Motojiro Kaji’s “Lemon,” written with a similar sentiment, as well as the anecdote about the Korean writer Lee Sang, who longed for the scent of lemons.

“The Marsh” (1919)

While expressing sympathy for a pitiful painter who died after his mind collapsed from living for art, this work also reflects the artist’s own image. Akutagawa was talented in painting himself and was close friends with the painter Ryūichi Oana. Given that depictions reminiscent of Van Gogh appear in his other works from his later years, it is possible that he had Van Gogh-esque imagery in mind for this piece as well.

“Doubts” (1919)

Just as Mori Ogai addressed the issue of euthanasia in “Takasebune,” Akutagawa poses similar ethical questions in “Doubts” through the voice of the “I,” a practical ethicist. The facts that are revealed one by one as the story unfolds keep the reader in suspense.

The Faith of Misei (1919)

Drawn from a Chinese classic, this story projects the author’s own image—waiting for something that never comes—onto the character Misei. In Misei’s devotion to waiting solely for a woman, one can glimpse a kind of masochistic pleasure. The recurring line, “But the woman has not yet come,” effectively conveys the mood of a wait that seems destined to repeat itself eternally.

“Autumn” (秋, 1920)

This is Akutagawa’s first modern work, written with great care to counter the criticism from naturalist writers who argued that his “Rashomon”-style period pieces drew their themes from classical literature. It is a masterpiece that starkly exposes the jealousy lurking in the depths of the human soul while capturing the desolate atmosphere and melancholy unique to autumn.
It is said that Shigeko, with whom he was dating at the time, provided the inspiration for the story. It is interesting to note that, when read with this fact in mind, Nobuko brings to mind Shigeko, while Teruko evokes the author’s wife, Fumi.

A Strange Story (1920)

This work also appears to be a female counterpart to “Two Letters.” It uses fantastical techniques to depict the mental anguish experienced by a woman who attempts to have a secret affair with another man while her husband is abroad. The work itself reveals a sensibility that seems influenced by pioneers of fantasy fiction such as Izumi Kyōka.
In “Two Letters” as well, the wife is described as having exhibited hysterical tendencies before marriage, which improved after marriage only to worsen again. The fact that this hysterical psychological state is portrayed as anguish caused by another man serves as the connecting thread between the two works.

The Abandoned Child (1920)

Some interpret that Akutagawa’s own experience of being adopted by his maternal uncle and raised as his son led to a deep-seated sense of being “the abandoned child.” It appears that the fact his aunt, who remained single for life, cared for him after his mother died following a mental breakdown, had a significant influence on him. It is significant that the name of the orphan in the story, Yunosuke, sounds similar to the author’s name, Ryunosuke.

Christ in Nanjing (南京の基督, 1920)

As evidenced by the fact that a Bible was found by his bedside when Akutagawa committed suicide, he had an interest in Christianity. He wrote several works based on Christian themes, such as “The Death of a Christian.” However, as critics have noted, it is highly likely that for Akutagawa, Christianity was driven more by a fascination with foreign culture than by rigorous religious reflection.
At first glance, this work appears to deal with a religious delusion in which a naive prostitute mistakes a despicable foreigner for Jesus and comes to believe in him. Upon deeper reading, it can also be interpreted as conveying the message that faith itself is precious, rather than the pursuit of concrete truth. Faith may be a process of reaffirming one’s belief by transcending constant doubt. Whether the foreigner was truly Jesus or not remains ultimately unverifiable; one could also argue that we must abandon the desire to verify God’s existence with our own eyes and instead experience God through faith.

In a Grove (藪の中, 1921)

Where is the truth?—This is the question the entire work poses. It makes one wonder whether there are no absolute truths, only relative ones, and why the testimonies of those involved in the incident differ so greatly. Amid the characters’ accounts—each emphasizing only the aspects favorable to their own position—the sorrow conveyed by the dead man’s spirit forms the climax of the work. It even leaves the reader with the suspicion: would he continue to lie even after his death?
Kurosawa’s film, enhanced by the director’s interpretation, makes it easier to understand.
For example, the claim that the bandit Tajomaru exchanged 23 sword strikes is portrayed in the film as a chaotic brawl, giving the impression that the actual situation was a complete mess amid fear and confusion. Moreover, just as a still life appears different depending on the viewer’s perspective and mindset, it is even more difficult to reconcile events involving people into a unified account. Thus, the incident ultimately vanishes into the “bushes.”

O-Tomi’s Chastity (1922)

This is a so-called “Kaika-mono” set in the Meiji era. Akutagawa, known for his delicate sensibilities, tended to portray strong women as attractive; his wife, the woman “in the thicket,” and O-Tomi in this work all possess a robust and healthy charm. The situation—a young man and woman facing each other inside a dark, empty house in a deserted neighborhood while rain falls outside—maximizes the tension.

O-Toki (1923)

Works featuring Yasugichi are generally classified as short pieces with a strong autobiographical tone. This story is also a short tale that captures the subtle emotions of the moment when love begins to blossom. Her memories are revived along with the smell of train exhaust and fade away with the sound of the speeding train.
If you pay attention to the onomatopoeic description of the train’s sound at the end, the sound of the train passing through flat terrain is followed by the sound of it crossing a railway bridge, indicating that the train has now begun to cross the bridge. It evokes the image of crossing a bridge of past memories from which there is no return.

A Clump of Earth (一塊の土, 1924)

Although set in modern times, like “Autumn,” this work is regarded as a unique masterpiece of realism set in a rural setting. Egoism—a self-centered attitude—an eternal theme in Akutagawa’s literature, also takes center stage in this work.

Three Windows (1927)

It is regarded as a relatively polished masterpiece among the works published in the year of his death. Set in Yokosuka Harbor, where Akutagawa spent his youth, the story unfolds various landscapes of death as seen through his eyes through three tales about death. A line from the second story—“君看雙眼色 不語似無愁”—was a favorite of Akutagawa’s; he even inscribed it on the cover of his first short story collection. This suggests that, if one were to describe the emotion that dominated him in a single character, it might well have been “sū” (愁)—that is, an existential melancholy.