一

　僕は小さい時に絵を描くことが好きでした。僕の通っていた学校は横浜の山の手という所にありましたが、そこいらは西洋人ばかり住んでいる町で、僕の学校も教師は西洋人ばかりでした。そしてその学校の行きかえりにはいつでもホテルや西洋人の会社などがならんでいる海岸の通りを通るのでした。通りの海添いに立って見ると、真青な海の上に軍艦だの商船だのが一ぱいならんでいて、煙突から煙の出ているのや、檣から檣へ万国旗をかけわたしたのやがあって、眼がいたいように綺麗でした。僕はよく岸に立ってその景色を見渡して、家に帰ると、覚えているだけを出来るだけ美しく絵に描いて見ようとしました。けれどもあの透きとおるような海の藍色と、白い帆前船などの水際近くに塗ってある洋紅色とは、僕の持っている絵具ではどうしてもうまく出せませんでした。いくら描いても描いても本当の景色で見るような色には描けませんでした。

　ふと僕は学校の友達の持っている西洋絵具を思い出しました。その友達は矢張西洋人で、しかも僕より二つ位齢が上でしたから、身長は見上げるように大きい子でした。ジムというその子の持っている絵具は舶来の上等のもので、軽い木の箱の中に、十二種の絵具が小さな墨のように四角な形にかためられて、二列にならんでいました。どの色も美しかったが、とりわけて藍と洋紅とは喫驚するほど美しいものでした。ジムは僕より身長が高いくせに、絵はずっと下手でした。それでもその絵具をぬると、下手な絵さえがなんだか見ちがえるように美しく見えるのです。僕はいつでもそれを羨しいと思っていました。

1 When I was a child, I loved to draw and paint. The school I attended was located in a neighborhood called the Bluff in Yokohama, an area populated almost entirely by Westerners, and all the teachers at my school were Westerners as well. On my way to and from school, I always walked along the coastal street lined with hotels and Western trading firms. Standing by the water on that street, I could look out across the deep blue sea packed with warships and merchant vessels—some spewing smoke from their funnels, others strung from mast to mast with international maritime flags—creating a scene so dazzling it almost hurt the eyes. I would often stand on the shore, taking in the vista, and once home, try to paint as beautifully as I could everything I remembered. However, with the paints I owned, I could never quite capture that translucent, deep indigo of the ocean or the brilliant carmine red painted near the waterlines of the white sailing ships. No matter how many times I tried, I could never paint the colors as they truly appeared in the landscape. Then, I suddenly remembered the Western paints that one of my classmates had. That friend was also a Westerner, and being about two years older than me, was so tall that I had to look up to him. His name was Jim, and his paints were a fine imported set: inside a light wooden box, twelve colors were arranged in two rows, compressed into little squares like miniature ink cakes. Every single color was gorgeous, but the indigo and carmine were stunning beyond belief. Even though Jim was much taller than me, he was far worse at drawing. Yet, when he applied those paints, even his clumsy drawings were somehow transformed into things of remarkable beauty. I was always envious of that set.