Marriage 結婚
「君は僕たちの結婚記念日を知っていますか。
知らなかったら覚えておいて下さい。
多分五月六日です。昨年は確か土曜日だったはずです。
君が中野に面会に来た日なのですが、机を間にして、
立会人は職員が一人で、式は約十分間で終わりました。
神式でも仏式でもなく、いうならば官式で、
それは愉快な結婚でありました。」
藤本敏夫
Do you recall the date of our wedding? If you don’t, please remember, it was probably May 6. I think it was a Saturday. It was the day you came to see me in Nakano Prison. We were sitting across the table from each other, an officer acting as the witness to our marriage, and the “ceremony” finished in ten minutes. It was not Shintoism, nor Buddhism, we might call it “official-ism.” It was a humorous wedding.
It was several days after an article came out about the boycott of the Tokyo University graduation ceremony in March 1968 with a picture of me at a sit-in wearing a jean outfit, that we met each other for the first time. The meeting was set with him aiming to get me, the singer, involved in and part of advancing the student movement. I turned down their plan. There should have been nothing in common between the woman, a professional singer, and the man in the midst of the student movement. Three days after the first meeting, however, we met alone, followed by several dates. We never considered the possibility of marriage; rather, it was risky love, like walking on a tightrope.
On April 21, 1972, after four years of turbulence, the final day of his trial was held, and Fujimoto had a lunch party with his friends. Afterward, cheered by friends, and mellowed, he left for court and was taken into custody. Facing a three-year separation from Fujimoto, we talked about marriage, but he was strongly opposed. “There is no way we can get married in my present situation,” he said. Therefore, we were to separate and that would be the end of our relationship.
Within 10 days, however, I found signs of a new life. Struggling to find a solution, I made up my mind, choosing a baby and marriage. I went to see Fujimoto in Nakano Prison on May 3. Differing from a house of detention, in prison only those who are relatives can visit prisoners. I handed in the visitors’ form, leaving blank the space asking our relationship. The officer asked me if I was a common-law wife. Surprised, and wondering if the law admitted that, I quickly responded, “Yes!” I was hoping to see him, but within moments the officer returned and told me that Fujimoto denied having a wife. That night I wrote him a letter, crying, “The new life you left me with is so important that I will marry you and have our baby, even if I have to give up my past.” The next day, I had his lawyer hand my letter to Fujimoto and ask for his response. I was not sure what his exact words were, but I got the cool reply, “He agreed.” On May 6, I was permitted to see him as his fianc仔, which became our wedding ceremony.
On May 6, 1987, our 15th anniversary party was held in Shizen Okoku (Nature Kingdom) in Kamogawa, Chiba Prefecture. Our daughters were already 14, 11 and 7 years old. We built a fire in a pasture surrounded by greenery. I wore a white cotton wedding dress, as people said to me I should take advantage of this opportunity. My husband dressed reluctantly in a white suit. We were congratulated by many guests, some remarking, “You’ve managed 15 years!” and teased with questions such as, “Can you make it through?” We drank, sang and danced a lot.
To tell the truth, for me that was the graduation of our marriage, liberation from one form of marriage and the beginning of another, dual and freer life for Fujimoto and me. This was the result of someone’s comment, “Nestling close to each other under one roof is not the only kind of love. Only when each person can stand independently, can the two match perfectly.” We were greatly inspired. My house is in Tokyo, while Fujimoto’s is in Kamogawa. We both visit each house freely, and our children seem to enjoy both city and country.
Ten years later, we happily celebrated our 25th anniversary; our three daughters were 24, 21 and 17, and ready to leave the nest. I felt deeply that we were again a couple, a man and a woman. We had a small party, congratulating ourselves on “amitie amoureus,” a lovers’ friendship, a most comfortable relationship between a man and a woman. We were able to say we had reached a serene spring.
It was several days after an article came out about the boycott of the Tokyo University graduation ceremony in March 1968 with a picture of me at a sit-in wearing a jean outfit, that we met each other for the first time. The meeting was set with him aiming to get me, the singer, involved in and part of advancing the student movement. I turned down their plan. There should have been nothing in common between the woman, a professional singer, and the man in the midst of the student movement. Three days after the first meeting, however, we met alone, followed by several dates. We never considered the possibility of marriage; rather, it was risky love, like walking on a tightrope.
On April 21, 1972, after four years of turbulence, the final day of his trial was held, and Fujimoto had a lunch party with his friends. Afterward, cheered by friends, and mellowed, he left for court and was taken into custody. Facing a three-year separation from Fujimoto, we talked about marriage, but he was strongly opposed. “There is no way we can get married in my present situation,” he said. Therefore, we were to separate and that would be the end of our relationship.
Within 10 days, however, I found signs of a new life. Struggling to find a solution, I made up my mind, choosing a baby and marriage. I went to see Fujimoto in Nakano Prison on May 3. Differing from a house of detention, in prison only those who are relatives can visit prisoners. I handed in the visitors’ form, leaving blank the space asking our relationship. The officer asked me if I was a common-law wife. Surprised, and wondering if the law admitted that, I quickly responded, “Yes!” I was hoping to see him, but within moments the officer returned and told me that Fujimoto denied having a wife. That night I wrote him a letter, crying, “The new life you left me with is so important that I will marry you and have our baby, even if I have to give up my past.” The next day, I had his lawyer hand my letter to Fujimoto and ask for his response. I was not sure what his exact words were, but I got the cool reply, “He agreed.” On May 6, I was permitted to see him as his fianc仔, which became our wedding ceremony.
On May 6, 1987, our 15th anniversary party was held in Shizen Okoku (Nature Kingdom) in Kamogawa, Chiba Prefecture. Our daughters were already 14, 11 and 7 years old. We built a fire in a pasture surrounded by greenery. I wore a white cotton wedding dress, as people said to me I should take advantage of this opportunity. My husband dressed reluctantly in a white suit. We were congratulated by many guests, some remarking, “You’ve managed 15 years!” and teased with questions such as, “Can you make it through?” We drank, sang and danced a lot.
To tell the truth, for me that was the graduation of our marriage, liberation from one form of marriage and the beginning of another, dual and freer life for Fujimoto and me. This was the result of someone’s comment, “Nestling close to each other under one roof is not the only kind of love. Only when each person can stand independently, can the two match perfectly.” We were greatly inspired. My house is in Tokyo, while Fujimoto’s is in Kamogawa. We both visit each house freely, and our children seem to enjoy both city and country.
Ten years later, we happily celebrated our 25th anniversary; our three daughters were 24, 21 and 17, and ready to leave the nest. I felt deeply that we were again a couple, a man and a woman. We had a small party, congratulating ourselves on “amitie amoureus,” a lovers’ friendship, a most comfortable relationship between a man and a woman. We were able to say we had reached a serene spring.
それから激動の4年を越えた1972年4月21日、幾年分かの学生運動の裁判が終わる日、藤本は、友人たちと昼食会を開き、声援に送られ、ほろ酔い気分で裁判所に行き、そのまま拘束された。3年近くの不在を目前にして、結婚という二文字は話題にはなったが、「今の俺の立場じゃ、とても結婚させてもらえるわけがない。」藤本の固い反対でボツになり、これが決定的な縁の切れ目になるはずだった。
ところが、10日もたたないうちに新しい命の芽生えを知り、悩み果てた末、子供の出産と結婚を決心した私は、5月3日中野刑務所に面会に出かけた。拘置所とは違って、三親等までの人にしか面会を許されていない。面会票の「続柄」の欄を空白のままだすと、係官の人が「内妻ですか。」と聞き返してきた。そんな身分が法律的に許されているのかと驚き、思わず「はいっ！」と応えていた。もしかしたら会えるかも知れないと思ったのもつかの間、戻ってきた係官が「本人が否定してますんでねぇ」と、気の毒そうに言った。その夜、泣きながら私は手紙を書いた。「あなたの残してくれた生命を大切に、これまでの過去を全部捨ててもあなたと結婚し子供を産みます。」と・・・。翌日、弁護士さんに託し、藤本にその手紙を見せてもらい、彼の答えを聞いた。正確な言葉はわからないが、ただ私には「彼は承諾しましたよ。」というクールな答えが返ってきた。5月6日、婚約者という立場で特別な面会が許され、それが私たちの結婚式となった。