My husband left for work as usual, and I
couldn’t think of anything to do. I sat alone
in the chair by the window, staring out at the
garden through the gap between the curtains.
Not that I had any reason to be looking at
the garden: There was nothing else for me to
do. And I thought that sooner or later, if I sat
there looking, I might think of something.
Of all the many things in the garden, the one
I looked at most was the oak tree. It was my
special favorite. I had planted it when I was a
little girl, and watched it grow. I thought of it
as my old friend. I talked to it all the time in
my head.
That day, too, I was probably talking to the
oak tree-I don’t remember what about. And I
don’t know how long I was sitting there. The
time slips by when I’m looking at the garden.
It was dark before I knew it: I must have been
there quite a while. Then, all at once, I heard
a sound. It came from somewhere far away-a
funny, muffled sort of rubbing sort of sound.
At first I thought it was coming from a place
deep inside me, that I was hearing things-a
warning from the dark cocoon my body was
spinning within. I held my breath and listened. Yes. No doubt about it. Little by little,
the sound was moving closer to me. What was
it? I had no idea. But it made my flesh creep.
The ground near the base of the tree began
to bulge upward as if some thick, heavy liquid
were rising to the surface. Again I caught my
breath. Then the ground broke open and the
mounded earth crumbled away to reveal a set
of sharp claws. My eyes locked onto them, and
my hands turned into clenched fists. Something’s going to happen, I said to myself. It’s
starting now. The claws scraped hard at the
soil, and soon the break in the earth was an
open hole, from which there crawled a little
green monster.
Its body was covered with shining green
scales. As soon as it emerged from the hole, it
shook itself until the bits of soil clinging to it
dropped away. It had a long, funny nose, the
green of which gradually deepened toward the
tip. The very end was narrow and pointed as
a whip, but the beast’s eyes were exactly like
a human’s. The sight of them sent a shiver
through me. They showed feelings, just like
your eyes or mine.
Without hesitation, but moving slowly and
deliberately, the monster approached my front
door, on which it began to knock with the
slender tip of its nose. The dry, rapping sound
echoed through the house. I tiptoed to the
back room, hoping the beast would not realize
I was there. I couldn’t scream. Ours is the only
house in the area, and my husband wouldn’t
be coming back from work until late at night.
I couldn’t run out the back door, either, since
my house has only the one door, the very one
on which a horrible green monster was now
knocking. I breathed as quietly as I could,
pretending not to be there, hoping the thing
would give up and go away. But it didn’t give
up. Its nose went from knocking to groping
at the lock. It seemed to have no trouble at all
clicking the lock open, and then the door itself
opened a crack. Around the edge of the door
crept the nose, and then it stopped. For a long
time it stayed still, like a snake with its head
raised, checking conditions in the house. If I
had known this was going to happen, I could
have stayed by the door and cut the nose off, I
told myself: The kitchen had plenty of sharp
knives. No sooner had the thought occurred
to me than the creature moved past the edge
The Little Green Monster
by Haruki Murakami
-translated by Jay Rubin
of the door, smiling, as if it had read my mind.
Then it spoke, not with a stutter, but repeating
certain words as if it were still trying to learn
them. It wouldn’t have done you any good, any
good, the little green monster said. My nose is
like a lizard’s tail. It always grows back stronger and longer, stronger and longer. You’d get
just the opposite of what what you want want.
Then it spun its eyes for a long time, like two
weird tops.
Oh, no, I thought to myself. Can it read
people’s minds? I hate to have anyone know
what I’m thinking-especially when that
someone is a horrid and inscrutable little
creature like this. I broke out in a cold sweat
from head to foot. What was this thing going
to do to me? Eat me? Take me down into the
earth? Oh, well, at least it wasn’t so ugly that I
couldn’t stand looking at it. That was good. It
had slender, pink little arms and legs jutting
out from its green-scaled body and long claws
at the ends of its hands and feet. They were almost darling, the more I looked at them. And
I could see, too, that the creature meant me no
harm.
Of course not, it said to me, cocking its
head. Its scales clicked against one another
when it moved-like crammed together coffee cups rattling on a table when you nudge
it. What a terrible thought, madam: Of course
I wouldn’t eat you. No no no. I mean you no
harm, no harm, no harm. So I was right: It
knew exactly what I was thinking.
Madam madam madam, don’t you see?
Don’t you see? I’ve come here to propose to
you. From deep deep deep down deep down
deep. I had to crawl all the way up here up
here up. Awful, it was awful, I had to dig and
dig and dig. Look at how it ruined my claws! I
could never have done this if I meant you any
harm, any harm, any harm. I love you. I love
you so much I couldn’t stand it anymore down
deep down deep. I crawled my way up to you,
I had to, I had to. They all tried to stop me, but
I couldn’t stand it anymore. And think of the
courage that it took, please, took. What if you
thought it was rude and presumptuous, rude
and presumptuous, for a creature like me to
propose to you?
But it is rude and presumptuous, I said in
my mind. What a rude little creature you are
to come seeking my love!
A look of sadness came over the monster’s
face as soon as I thought this, and its scales
took on a purple tinge, as if to express what it
was feeling. Its entire body seemed to shrink
a little, too. I folded my arms to watch these
changes occurring. Maybe something like
this would happen whenever its feelings altered. And maybe its awful-looking exterior
masked a heart that was as soft and vulnerable
as a brand-new marshmallow. If so, I knew I
could win. I decided to give it a try. You are
an ugly little monster, you know, I shouted in
my mind’s loudest voice-so loud it made my
heart reverberate. You are an ugly little monster! The purple of the scales grew deeper, and
the thing’s eyes began to bulge as if they were
sucking in all the hatred I was sending them.
They protruded from the creature’s face like
ripe green figs, and tears like red juice ran
down from them, splattering on the floor.
I wasn’t afraid of the monster anymore. I
painted pictures in my mind of all the cruel
things I wanted to do to it. I tied it down to
a heavy chair with thick wires, and with a
needle-nose pliers I began ripping out its
scales at the roots, one by one. I heated the
point of a sharp knife, and with it I cut deep
grooves in the soft pink flesh of its calves.
Over and over, I stabbed a hot soldering iron
into the bulging figs of its eyes. With each
new torture I imagined for it, the monster
would lurch and writhe and wail in agony as
if those things were actually happening to it.
It wept its colored tears and oozed thick gobs
of liquid onto the floor, emitting a gray vapor
from its ears that had the fragrance of roses.
Its eyes sent an unnerving glare of reproach
at me. Please, madam, oh please, I beg of you,
don’t think such terrible thoughts! it cried. I
have no evil thoughts for you. I would never
harm you. All I feel for you is love, is love. But
I refused to listen. In my mind, I said, Don’t be
ridiculous! You crawled out of my garden. You
unlocked my door without permission. You
came inside my house. I never asked you here.
I have the right to think anything I want to.
And I continued to do exactly that-thinking
at the creature increasingly terrible thoughts.
I cut and tormented its flesh with every machine and tool I could think of, overlooking
no method that might exist to torture a living
being and make it writhe in pain. See, then,
you little monster, you have no idea what a
woman is. There’s no end to the number of
things I can think of to do to you. But soon the
monster’s outlines began to fade, and even its
strong green nose shriveled up until it was no
bigger than a worm. Writhing on the floor, the
monster tried to move its mouth and speak to
me, struggling to open its lips as if it wanted to
leave me some final message, to convey some
ancient wisdom, some crucial bit of knowledge that it had forgotten to impart to me.
Before that could happen, the mouth attained
a painful stillness, and soon it went out of focus and disappeared. The monster now looked
like nothing more than a pale evening shadow.
All that remained, suspended in the air, were
its mournful, bloated eyes. That won’t do any
good, I thought to it. You can look all you want,
but you can’t say a thing. You can’t do a thing.
Your existence is over, finished, done. Soon the
eyes dissolved into emptiness, and the room
filled with the darkness of night.