No Longer Human is a portrait of a man who cannot reconcile with the world around him. he is traumatized by an event from his past and carries a feeling of alienation with him always, yet he fights against it by putting on a casual and joking persona. and no one suspects him—or more aptly, no one who may suspect him reaches out a hand to aid him. he moves through life as if he is falling into a chasm, one with no discernible bottom, one which he feels he has absolutely no control over. 

but this is the dilemma of No Longer Human. the narrator, Yozo, does have choices; he just refuses to make the right ones. he chooses to view women as lesser creatures, but uses his feeling of isolation as an excuse. he chooses not to acknowledge his trauma. he chooses to not seek help. he chooses to be alone, depressed, drunk, high. this is a man with agency, and the only way he exerts it is to make it seem as though he has none. 

despite his faults, it is easy to empathize with Yozo. at the same time, it is also easy to condemn him. this novel is an exercise—clearly Yozo *is* human, in the typical sense, but his contemptible actions are exactly what (he argues) disqualify him from being a true human being. to what extent can we forgive someone, just because we know they are a person like us?