Scholarly activity is energized by what can be called the “centennial effect”—the commemoration of noteworthy milestones in the form of conferences, special journal editions, and monographs. As with a number of late Meiji milestones, both literary and otherwise, the centerpiece of the volume under review—Bungakuron (Theory of Literature) by Natsume Sōseki (1867–1916), published in 1907—has received considerable scholarly attention in recent years, as part of what can be considered an ongoing Sōseki centennial.

For those whose sole connection with Natsume Sōseki is through the celebrated novels—Botchan, Kokoro, Grass by the Wayside, and so forth—this collection of Sōseki's critical writings will be a revelation. In line with a number of his literary confreres, Sōseki held forth—as culture critic and public intellectual—on matters literary, philosophical and “civilizational.” His work in this vein, which often originated in the form of lectures (academic and public) that were subsequently edited, have been variously labeled bungeiron, bunmeiron, and jinseiron (discourse on the arts, civilization, and humanity, respectively). The book's three editors have sought to valorize critical discourse overall, thereby calling into question a scholarly paradigm that has long privileged the “autonomous” literary creation. And they have moved to reposition Natsume Sōseki, arguably the preeminent modern Japanese writer, with respect to his ostensibly undervalued critical discourse. They have succeeded on both scores.

The book, which is divided into three sections, begins with an extensive introduction to Sōseki's critical writings (pp. 1–35)—a “ten-year project” initially conceived during his two-year period of literary tutelage in England at the turn of the twentieth century. Subdivided into topical essays by the three editors, the introduction places these writings in the context of the author's career and the late Meiji literary and intellectual milieu. The editors deftly explore Sōseki's connection with major currents in Western literary theory, philosophy, and social and natural science, contending that Bungakuron channels these currents into what they argue is “a crucial and unique work in the history of literary theory worldwide” (p. 34), one that set about to reconcile the domains of literature and science. They further claim at the outset that “any consideration of his novels that fails to take into account his theoretical project … misses what Sōseki was attempting to accomplish through both” (p. 12). Interesting claims, to be sure, but I for one would have preferred more compelling substantiation.

The remainder of the book comprises translations of the chief critical writings, with prefatory commentary and extensive annotation. I should note that the translations of often dauntingly complex material are uniformly excellent. Part I (pp. 39–152) presents Bungakuron through translations of roughly half of the original text. Only Sōseki's preface—which explains, in a reminiscent personal voice, the genesis of the work—and the first of its five constituent “books”—which expounds his universalist (and not easily grasped) literary formulation, F plus f—are translated in their entirety.

Part II (pp. 153–264) presents a series of five critical essays, spanning 1907 and 1914, through excerpted translations. These are a mixed bag of writings, by turns disarmingly personal and densely theoretical. Bungei no tetsugakuteki kiso (Philosophical Foundations of the Literary Arts, 1907; pp. 159–213) is revealing insofar as it presents the gist of Bungakuron in a more comprehensible manner. The most noteworthy essay is the well-known Watakushi no kojinshugi (My Individualism, 1914; pp. 242–64), which the editors regard as a recapitulation of Sōseki's ten-year critical project. Yet the reminiscing narrator of what was originally delivered as a lecture at the Gakushûin academy pointedly remarks that he had ended up abandoning this project, referring to Bungakuron as “not so much a memorial to my projected ‘lifework’ as its corpse—and a deformed corpse at that” (p. 252).

With this book, Michael K. Bourdaghs, Atsuko Ueda, and Joseph A. Murphy have made an important and impressive contribution to the field of Japanese literary studies and to the ever-expanding domain of “Sōsekiana.” Notwithstanding Sōseki's evidently conflicted assessment of his own work, the critical writings clearly merit our serious attention, especially in the context of late Meiji literary and intellectual history. Here, the editors have succeeded admirably.

Several issues, though, deserve mention. First, I would argue that these writings—most notably the Bungakuron preface and Watakushi no kojinshugi—are often indistinguishable from the author's large and diverse body of personal narratives—the so-called shôhin. As with his fictional and critical works, these, too, appeared over the span of a decade (1907–16), giving voice to Sōseki's reflections on his own life and the world in which he lived—concerns that animate his novels as well.

Finally, and at the risk of belaboring the point, the Bungakuron text will strike one as dense, often pedantic, and not readily accessible to the nonspecialist. Sōseki's strong disavowal of the work, which the editors do acknowledge, should not be dismissed. Sōseki's deepest concerns—literary, ethical, and philosophical—found their most compelling voice not in his theoretical formulations and rationalizations, but in the novels that remain his enduring legacy.