Due to the overwhelming positive reviews online, I decided to read this book. However, after finishing it, I found myself with a perspective that differs from the mainstream opinion.
What struck me most about this book was not the life-and-death love between the male and female leads, but rather the process of alienation of individuals in a capitalist society—its coldness and horror.
“The Happiness of Three Days” was originally titled “I Sold My Life for 10,000 Yen a Year,” which I believe fits the theme of the story better. The core of this story is less about “happiness” and more about “transactions.” It is a stark capitalist tragedy, a story of someone who works hard to earn money to redeem a geisha but ultimately dies for love.
Nanmu, a young man with a high opinion of himself but who has completely failed in academics, relationships, and life, chooses to sell his “life” in such a predicament. Ironically, even when determined to die, he still needs the approval of the capitalist system.
Miyagi, with a tragic background, was sold by her mother to pay off a loan shark's debt. She had to become a geisha at the age of ten, navigating through countless men like Nanmu who are on the brink of losing control. In fear, she is forced to believe that capitalists (corporate executives) will provide protection, yet deep down, she knows it is all an illusion.
In this context, Nanmu, as one of the men on the edge of losing control, becomes a customer of Miyagi. Miyagi then becomes a monitor to prevent him from retaliating against society. As Nanmu gradually realizes the chaos in his relationships, he impulsively intends to pour his pain onto Miyagi, but ultimately he awakens to see that both he and Miyagi are sacrifices under the same order.
What pains him even more is the absurd fact: his thirty years of life is worth only thirty yen. He may be worthless, yet it is the ridiculous “thirty yen.” It is this pricing act itself that constructs an irrefutable symbolic system, completely erasing the intrinsic value of life that cannot be quantified by assigning a specific amount.
During their time together, this man deemed nearly worthless by the system falls in love with the geisha. However, in this wasteland of value, the so-called love cannot escape the essence of being transactional.
The male protagonist's great sacrifice resembles a shrewd capital operation: he “sacrifices” Miyagi, using her as a tool to communicate with society, drawing artistic inspiration from her existence; his only valuable “history” (the artistic achievements he could have by continuing to live) is then used as capital to buy Miyagi's freedom, selling and buying back, achieving perfect market appreciation. This does not resemble pure love but rather an investment in self-worth realization.
The final act of mutual death thus sheds all romantic trappings. Nanmu, crying bitterly, says, “I’m going to die, you go love someone else, use my life to love someone else,” which is less about selfless fulfillment and more like a meticulously designed invitation to die together. The woman sees through his insincerity, and just as he hoped, decides to die with him.
He uses death as currency, buying out the ownership of love in one go, proving that he “died worthily,” ensuring that Miyagi belongs to him forever. He exchanges the demise of his life for the eternity of love, hypocritically making one last transaction with capitalism.
And capitalism becomes the second-to-last witness to this mutual death. The last witness is us, who cry for this hypocritical happiness from beyond the fourth wall. We shed tears for the most rebellious and intimate emotional resonance obtained through purchasing and cashing out within this system, these tears, deceived by hypocrisy, become the ultimate accomplice, the last witness to the “newcomers” who perished under the persecution of capitalism.
Sankyu Zhan may never have intended to be a critic of capitalism, but it is precisely this unconscious critique that lends authenticity to the world he depicts. It reveals a pervasive coldness, hypocrisy, and numbness stemming from capitalism, perhaps even unspoken by the author himself.
The characters in his writing experience anxiety, loneliness, and self-destructive tendencies, not as individual flaws, but as systemic symptoms. Especially in contemporary Japan, the rules of this capitalist game have become the air that people must breathe from birth.
Reprinted: The Happiness of Three Days https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1LTx1ziEJS/