The "book" that had the greatest impact on me in 2007 was probably Nintendo’s "DS" (game console). But I really ask myself, to what extent the folks at Nintendo who developed the DS were aware - aware of the fact that the DS is just about pocketbook size when you open it and hold it vertically…

Last summer I bought a DS at the time "100 titles of Japanese literature you should read at least once" came out. The first title I read was Soseki’s "The Wayfarer (Kojin)". I held the DS like I hold a book: the thumb of my left hand in the center, the other fingers supporting the gadget from behind. The only thing that’s different is that you don't need to use your right hand, as you can flip over pages by pressing a button with the thumb of your left hand. What I found most amazing, however, was the fact that I got so immersed in the "Kojin" that I totally forgot that I was reading it on a DS, just like one normally forgets that one is reading a "stack of printed paper". That’s probably all that a reading terminal has to offer.

Last November, the "Kindle" reading terminal Amazon unveiled in the USA was in the news. A few Japanese models of such reading gadgets had been around even before that, but for some reason they're not popular at all. Then I suddenly realized that there were already 50 million of them in use, in the form of the good old Nintendo DS! A little later, the DS was fitted with a Wi-Fi radio function so users could download titles of the "DS Library" (that is currently being advertised on TV).

iPod and iTunes certainly helped establish a new music listening environment, and now I'm wondering whether the same thing will happen to reading. At my seaside house, I have my iPod connected to Western Electric speakers with built-in tube amplifiers made in the 1950s.

I think that the DS as a reading terminal is a winner. I could easily give you a few shortcomings, but if they even master the crucial aspect of the device’s "invisibility", next thing is just to grant someone’s wishes with someone else’s technology. I don't know if DS is going to become the standard reading terminal, but reading Proust from a memory card does make me feel that the future has begun. So what comes next? Books on the iPod? Well I don't think our attachment to paper will die. Right now and here I'm looking at a couple of books that I've browsed through so many times that they almost fall to pieces, but that surely isn't a reason to throw them away. But still, it is amazing that the spirits of books are probably going to live in liquid crystal displays.

During the period covered in the diary entries below, I usually had my DS with me to read some classics of Japanese modern literature before hitting the pillow. With the backlight display you can read even in complete darkness. The Kindle, by the way, has no backlight.

December 5

I enter the office at nine in the morning, which rarely happens. I have to check the works of two translators. My ultra-pedantic investigations make the translators loose confidence and rush out into the streets of Kagurazaka crying. At least that’s what happens in my imagination… With a sample copy of our newest issue (comes with a free CD) that just arrived under my arm, I travel to Kyoto. On the Shinkansen, I eat up the copy that still smells bewitchingly of fresh ink. In the evening I invite an artist to the Kodaiji Wakuden restaurant. We have crab meat and beef bowls, all of which is superb. I return to my hotel room, switch on my DS, and read Kasai Zenzo’s "With Children in Tow" until I fall asleep.

December 6

I return from Kyoto to Shibuya, where I meet some young writer. One year ago, a critic who has my full trust recommended him to me, "Have you read his poems? I bet he'll be able to write novels as well. I'll introduce you to him if you want." Now that I finally react, I realize that editors and publishers are already queuing up to get the chance to work with him. Later I check out Sugimoto Hiroshi’s exhibition at Gallery Koyanagi, and give Sugimoto, whose new regular column in Shincho starts with the upcoming issue, a sample copy. Following is a pleasant chat with Brutus editor Suzuki.

December 7

Brainstorming with a musician (and critic) at noon, and a piano concert by Valery Afanassiev at Hatsudai in the evening. Several years ago I received his draft of a novel, but unfortunately I was lacking both knowledge and courage to translate and publish it.

The fish of the month is cornetfish, which belongs, like the sea horse, to the order of Gasterosteiformes. It’s one of the tastiest fishes caught in the bay of Misaki.

December 8

I the afternoon we record a three-way conversation between Takahashi Genichiro, Tanaka Kazuo, Azuma Hiroki at our office. We initially approached them with the request to talk about the "division of novels and critical essays", but as the heated debate progresses, it gradually inflates to an encompassing discussion of "literature-environmental issues" that we decide to extend over two consecutive volumes of Shincho. Part one is featured in the February issue. At night I return to my house in Misaki, where I stay for the 100th night this year. What’s certainly not really meaningful for anyone else is for myself some kind of "accomplishment" that I intended to celebrate with an extensive dinner at my favorite fish restaurant, Maruichi. Unfortunately, I arrive in the middle of the night, so instead of tasty fish, I have my little party with manuscripts, DS, and a comfy bed.