【2026年度共通テスト国語漢文に学ぶ】「党同伐異〜現代詩潮」長野豊山著「松陰快談」より Modern Poetry Trends

  「詩人」を自称する輩の、一体、何人の詩人が、本年度の共通テスト「国語」の漢文に目を通しただろうか。設問文は、江戸後期の漢学者・長野豊山の「松陰快談」から、彼の詩論が述べられている段だった。とりわけ胸に響いたのは、「党同伐異」の四文字。語彙解説に「同じ考えの者をひいきして、異なる考えの者を攻撃する」と付記してあった。これで思い出した。数年前、ツイートで詩の募集があり、審査員が私の知る人たちであったこともあり、応募した。豊山ではないが、彼張りに現代詩潮の批判めいた朗読作品だったが、見事に落とされた。入選者を見ると、彼ら各人の知人が目立った。要するに、仲間を選び、アンチを排斥したわけだ。　「松陰快談」は200年前のものだが、当時も現代も鼻高々なインテリのメンタリティーは全く変わらないものだと思い知らされた。

　さらに、面白く読んだのは、「詩は主題の立て方が陳腐で、ただ見慣れぬ文字や言葉を多用し、幼稚さを隠しているだけだった。」という一節。現代詩は、（とりわけ日本のそれは）、一体、何を詠んでいるのか。今朝、お相手に作ってもらったサラダの美味しさか？　セックスか？　政治か？　もっとも、どれも詩のテーマになり得るのだろうが、とにかく、Google翻訳のような、詩人の名を隠すと誰が書いても同じように読めてしまう、実にカッコいい、奇妙奇天烈な詩句の羅列に時間と労力を取られるより、いっそ外国語を学ぼう、そこから日本語を再検討しよう、と思い立ち今日に至っている私に、豊山の詩論は刺激的で励ましにもなった。そして、この文章を入試に選んだ先生に拍手を送りたく思った。受験も捨てたものじゃないな。

　How many people who call themselves “poets,” I wonder, actually bothered to read the Chinese-classical passage on this year’s Common Test for University Admissions (Japanese language section)? The excerpt used for the questions came from Shōin Kaidan by Nagano Hōzan, a late-Edo-period scholar of Chinese learning, in the section where he lays out his views on poetry.

　What struck me most was the four characters 党同伐異—“to favor those who share one’s views and attack those who don’t,” as the vocabulary note glossed it. That instantly brought something back to mind.

　A few years ago, there was a call on Twitter for poetry submissions. Because some of the judges were people I knew, I decided to enter. My piece—Hōzan would laugh, perhaps—was a reading work that took a critical swipe at contemporary poetry trends, very much in his spirit. It was rejected without ceremony. When I looked at the winners, I couldn’t help noticing how many of them were acquaintances of the judges. In other words, they chose their own circle and shut out the “anti” crowd.

　Shōin Kaidan may be two hundred years old, but it made me realize all over again that the mentality of smug, self-important intellectuals hasn’t changed one bit—then or now.

What I found even more entertaining was the line: “His poetry set up its themes in a trite way, and merely buried its childishness under a heavy use of unfamiliar characters and words.”

　So what, exactly, is contemporary poetry—especially contemporary Japanese poetry—even singing about? The delicious salad your partner made for you this morning? Sex? Politics? Of course, any of those can be the subject of a poem. But still: rather than letting my time and energy be devoured by strings of “cool,” bizarre lines—like something churned out by Google Translate—poems that, once you hide the poet’s name, could have been written by anyone because they all read the same, I thought: why not learn a foreign language instead, and from there reconsider Japanese itself?

　That decision is what has brought me to where I am today. And for someone like me, Hōzan’s theory of poetry was both provocative and encouraging. I also felt like applauding the teacher who chose this passage for an entrance exam. Maybe exam-taking isn’t so worthless after all.