This, the first full-length study of Soseki in English, is based upon the proposition that "beneath the emphasis on order, responsibility and a clear sense of morality, [there] lurks a dark, romantic voice that repeatedly directs our attention to the forces of chaos." Though this is true of every writer, it is perhaps a bit more self-evident in Soseki, whose chaotic depths were sometimes noticeable.
Here I will intrude some details of one such occasion. Several years ago I was staying in a hotel in rural Scotland, and when the proprietor learned I was from Japan he said: "Japan -- my grandfather used to talk about a Japanese guest we had way back at the turn of the century. He used to cry all the time, this Japanese gentleman. Would take a turn in the garden and burst into tears. I remember what he looked like. Never met him, of course, but my grandfather, curious, took a picture once."
Thinking of unhappy Japanese in the British Isles, I extracted a 1,000 yen note from my billfold and asked my host if this were the man. "That's him, that's him. But on such a large note. Was he famous or something?"