“You just had to mention ‘Zenchi Naigu’s nose,’ and everyone in Ike-no-o knew what you were talking about.”

Zenchi Naigu’s nose precedes the man himself. The reduction of the priest to his nose sets the stage for the narrative’s exploration of identity, ego, and suffering—not without a strong dose of irony.

“On the surface, of course, he pretended it did not bother him—and not only because he felt it wrong for a priest to worry over his nose when he should be thirsting exclusively for the Pure Land to come.”

Zenchi’s nose is a site of contention between who he is and who he thinks he should be. The conflict between his role as a priest whose life is meant to be dedicated entirely to spiritual matters and the genuine distress caused by his nose is not meant to be resolved; rather, the story holds these two opposing views in tension while the priest’s identity emerges from their interplay.

“The people of Ike-no-o used to say that Zenchi Naigu was lucky to be a priest: no woman would ever want to marry a man with a nose like that.”

As much as Zenchi does not want people to comment on his nose, he knows that they do. And, not only have other people noticed his nose, they have also turned it into a joke that undermines the seriousness of his spiritual calling—and, in turn, his fragile sense of self.