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邂逅 contains the most difficult kanji I've had to write for this series. Fortunately I won't need them very often. Both 邂 and 逅 are classified as hyōgaiji (表外字, “characters outside the chart”). They don't appear in the lists of kanji taught in school, or in the list of rarer kanji that can be registered in personal names. Hyōgaiji kanji are often limited to specialist words, such as mahjong terms or the names of traditional sweets.
邂 and 逅 both mean “meet,” with 邂 implying that the meeting is unexpected. 邂逅 is considered a literary or poetic word. Fittingly, the one citation Wiktionary gives for it is from Natsume Sōseki's novel I Am a Cat, narrated by an absurdly high-spoken feline.
邂逅 is one of those words where the form seems to fit the meaning: two oddballs that have somehow found each other.
*****
They say Londoners don't talk to each other, but strangers have never had trouble talking to me. A young woman from Somalia told me how playing in an orchestra had helped with her trauma. A visitor from Norway told me his mnemonic for crossing the street: “If I look right, I will be alright. But if I look left, I will be left on the road.” An elderly woman asked if I was childless like her, commiserated with me about my PCOS diagnosis and then told me her memories of living in New Zealand during the Maori Wars (I looked them up afterward: 1845-1872).
For some reason a disproportionate number of these conversations have taken place in Pret a Manger. Maybe it attracts more lone customers than other coffee chains, maybe the utilitarian seating makes people more aware of each other, or maybe it feels like a waystation where travellers can chat without commitment.
In one East London branch, a woman told me about the Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice in Postman's Park: a wall covered with tiles commemorating people who died saving others. When I'd finished my hot chocolate, I walked a few streets over to have a look. Some of those commemorated were firefighters or transport workers who had died in the line of duty; some had given their lives to save friends, relatives or colleagues; but several had died coming to the rescue of complete strangers.
This series started with a chance meeting: my encounter with two Japanese speakers, which turned into a friendship. Most of my chance meetings haven't led to a lasting relationship, but they have often come at dark times and felt like moments of grace.
*****
In the late 1990s, I was living in Charleston, West Virginia, working a series of temp jobs and generally feeling adrift. One day I gave some change to a man begging outside the drugstore. He spoke to me for a long time in a hushed voice, saying, “You live in a mansion, you just don't know it yet” and “Sometimes God has to break you down before he can build you up,” and other things I don't remember. Then he asked for paper and a pen and wrote a phone number and a note saying: “Laura, my name is Stewart Jr. Thanks a lot. Call me and we'll talk about history.”
I never called that number, but I kept the note for about 15 years, even taking it with me when I moved to the UK. I told people the story from time to time. “We don't always recognise angels,” one responded.
Eventually, while packing for a house move, I found the note and Googled the phone number. I discovered it still belonged to Stewart Jr. I also found he had multiple convictions for sexual assault.
I told my therapist this story. “We don't always recognise predators,” he said.
*****
In Chinese, 邂逅 generally means a happy chance encounter, and it can also be used as an adjective to mean “joyous and carefree.” Japanese is more neutral, in that 邂逅 can be either a fortunate or unfortunate chance meeting, but it always implies a meeting of great significance.
*****
Fukuyama Masaharu's new single is called 邂逅. He's not the first Japanese artist to use this title; Jpop has a comfortable relationship with literary language.
The song is from the soundtrack of a film called あの星が降る丘で、君とまた出会いたい (I Want to Meet You Again on That Starry Hill), which is a sequel to あの花が咲く丘で、君とまた出会えたら (Till We Meet Again on the Lily Hill). Masha did the theme song for that film as well, called 想望 (Sōbō, “longing”).
The first film is about a schoolgirl who travels back in time and falls in love with a kamikaze pilot. I was a little surprised to learn of a sequel, but it's evidently set in the present day.
I first heard 邂逅 in one of the concerts Masha's livestreamed for international fanclub members, and fell in love with it. I'm glad it's finally been released so I can listen to it whenever it's stuck in my head. I like how the recording has turned out, too. Although highly emotional, the song is kept from becoming melodramatic by the sparing instrumentation on the verses and his restrained vocals.
Watching the video premiere, I found myself trying to sing along with lyrics I only partly knew:
You are here, inside me,
so I can bring you back whenever I want. …
Love saves people, doesn't it?
It binds people, doesn't it?
Sometimes it even kills people, doesn't it?
It changes everything. …
After billions upon billions of lives,
we've arrived at this place in time,
in an age that has overcome
the absurdity and violence of the past,
an age in which we are connected.
How dazzling it was.
How precious it was.
You are someone irreplaceable.
We met — and that was that.