There is something morbid about selfhood in Japan. It is not native to the culture. In the West, Judaism, Christianity, philosophy, language itself all teach us to say "I." It is otherwise in Japan.

The Japanese "I" was born in pain — the wrenching of a part from the whole, a limb from the social body. A 10th-century diary known as the "Kagero Nikki" ("The Gossamer Years") is the source to turn to for what it felt like.

The author's name is unknown, but her predicament is famous. Not that it's any big deal. One can hardly say she was wounded in love, for there is no indication that she did love.