Yoko Gowa - The Diving Pool
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THE DIVING POOL
Yoko Ogawa has written more than twentyworks of fiction and non-fiction and has wonevery major Japanese literary award. Her fictionhas appeared in the New Yorker, A Public Spaceand Zoetrope.
'A fine collection of three queasily unsettling novellas... She investsthe most seemingly banal domestic situations with a chilling andmalevolent sense of perversity, marking her out as a master of subtlepsychological horror'
Daily Telegraph
'Ogawa's fiction reflects like a funhouse mirror, skewing conventionalresponses, weirdly juxtaposing images... her hallucinatory, oddlybarbed stories snag the imagination, and linger'
Washington Post
'Bizarre, beautiful and sinister stories... modern fairy tales withmystery, bewilderment, muted horror... Here is a restrained, wilysurrealist who beguiles and terrifies in equal measure'
Irish Times
'Ogawa is a conspicuously gifted writer...Not a word is wasted, yet eachresonates with a blend of poetry and tension... mesmerising... Shepossesses an effortless, glassy, eerie brilliance. She should be discovered inBritain, and this book must surely begin the process'Joanna Briscoe, Guardian
'A welcome introduction to an author whose suggestive, unsettlingstorytelling speaks volumes by leaving things unsaid'
Independent
'With quietly lovely moments juxtaposed against deep disquiet, Ogawaexplores the darker side of motherhood, love and dependence'
Elle
'Long after you read it, it will remain with you, shifting your vision,eroding your composure'
Kathryn Harrison
'Still waters run dark in these bright yet eerie novellas, whose crisp,almost guileless prose hides unexpected menace... Stephen Snyder'selegant translations whet the appetite for more'
New York Times
'Hard not to finish in one go, Yoko Ogawa's stories are perfect forspooky bedtime reading and not-so-sweet dreams'
Big Issue
'Her combination of the strange with the visceral elegantly conveyssilent inner worlds of misery and pain'
Metro
'Yoko Ogawa is able to give expression to the most subtle workings ofhuman psychology in prose that is gentle yet penetrating'
Kenzaburo Oe
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
ISBN 9781409076186
Version 1.0
www.randomhouse.co.uk
Published by Vintage 2009
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
'Diving Pool' Yoko Ogawa 1990
'Dormitory', 'Ninshin Karenda/Pregnancy Diary Yoko Ogawa 1991
English translation copyright Stephen Snyder 2008
Yoko Ogawa has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs
and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
The Diving Pool first published in Japan by Fukutake Publishing Co., Ltd.
as Samenai Koucha.
Dormitory and The Pregnancy Diary first published in Japan by Bungei
Shunju Ltd. as Ninshin Karenda.
English translation rights arranged with Yoko Ogawa through Japan
Foreign-Rights Centre/ The Irene Skolnick Literary Agency
The English translation of Pregnancy Diary first appeared in slightly
different form in the New Yorker in 2005. The English translation of
The Diving Pool first appeared in Zoetrope in 2007.
First published in Great Britain in 2008 by
Harvill Secker
Vintage
Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,
London SW1V 2SA
www.vintage-books.co.uk
Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can
be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm
The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library
ISBN: 9781409076186
Version 1.0
THE DIVING POOL
DIVING
POOL
It's always warm here: I feel as though I've been swallowedby a huge animal. After a few minutes, my hair,my eyelashes, even the blouse of my school uniform aredamp from the heat and humidity, and I'm bathed in amoist film that smells vaguely of chlorine.
Far below my feet, gentle ripples disrupt the paleblue surface of the water. A constant stream of tinybubbles rises from the diving well; I can't see the bottom.The ceiling is made of glass and is very high. I sithere, halfway up the bleachers, as if suspended inmidair.
Jun is walking out on the ten-meter board. He'swearing the rust-colored swimsuit I saw yesterday onthe drying rack outside the window of his room. Whenhe reaches the end of the board, he turns slowly; then,facing away from the water, he aligns his heels. Everymuscle in his body is tensed, as if he were holding hisbreath. The line of muscle from his ankle to his thighhas the cold elegance of a bronze statue.
Sometimes I wish I could describe how wonderful Ifeel in those few seconds from the time he spreads hisarms above his head, as if trying to grab hold of something,to the instant he vanishes into the water. But Ican never find the right words. Perhaps it's becausehe's falling through time, to a place where words cannever reach.
"Inward two-and-a-half in the tuck position," Imurmur.
He misses the dive. His chest hits the water with asmack and sends up a great spray of white.
But I enjoy it just the same, whether he misses adive or hits it perfectly with no splash. So I never sithere hoping for a good dive, and I am never disappointedby a bad one. Jun's graceful body cuts throughthese childish emotions to reach the deepest place insideme.
He reappears out of the foam, the rippling surfaceof the water gathering up like a veil around his shoulders;and he swims slowly toward the side of the pool.
I've seen pictures from underwater cameras. Theframe is completely filled with deep blue water, andthen the diver shoots down, only to turn at the bottomand kick off back toward the surface. This underwaterpivot is even more beautiful than the dive itself: the anklesand hands slice through the water majestically, andthe body is completely enclosed in the purity of thepool. When the women dive, their hair flutters underwateras though lifted in a breeze, and they all look sopeaceful, like children doing deep-breathing exercises.
One after the other, the divers come slipping intothe water, making their graceful arcs in front of thecamera. I would like them to move more slowly, tostay longer, but after a few seconds their heads appearagain above the surface.
Does Jun let his body float free at the bottom of thepool, like a fetus in its mother's womb? How I'd loveto watch him to my heart's content as he drifts there,utterly free.
I spend a lot of time on the bleachers at the edge ofthe diving pool. I was here yesterday and the day before,and three months ago as well. I'm not thinkingabout anything or waiting for something; in fact, Idon't seem to have any reason to be here at all. I just sitand look at Jun's wet body.
We've lived under the same roof for more than tenyears, and we go to the same high school, so we seeeach other and talk any number of times every day. Butit's when we're at the pool that I feel closest to Junwhen he's diving, his body nearly defenseless in only aswimsuit, twisting itself into the laid-out position, thepike, the tuck. Dressed in my neatly ironed skirt andfreshly laundered blouse, I take my place in the standsand set my schoolbag at my feet. I couldn't reach himfrom here even if I tried.
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