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Dansatoarea din Izu

tezeu — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 04:50:08 +0000

Am mai vorbit despre Yasunari Kawabata iar aceasta colectie de nuvele scurte, publicata la editura Humanitas nu face decat sa-i ateste "apartele" in ceea ce priveste atat fondul cat si forma scriiturilor sale. Povestirile din aceasta colectie s-au coagulat la un nivel aproape organic cu ultima carte citita dar sunt totusi atat de disonante si de distante in comparatie cu ceea ce citesc acum (literatura Europeana, contemporana de pe meleaguri france).

Pe de alta parte, aceste cateva nuvele sunt de un mister, o boare de mister mai degraba, si de o melancolie aparte, reusind sa te transpuna cu totul, nu neaparat intr-o Japonie perfect armonizata ci mai degraba intr-o lume a unui amor lin, profund si mereu de o melancolie si o tristete semi-obscura.

Stilistic am avut ocazia sa parcurg cateva nuvele cu o forma si cu teme si motive atent alese si clar definite, putand distinge, printre altele, "masa de toaleta cu oglinda" (avand diferite simbolistici, in functie de povestire) sau "iubirea de animale in relatia cu iubirea de oameni (avand, tot la fel, diferite explicatii).

Se poate observa, de asemenea, in aceasta colectie, o legatura naturala si fireasca (desi uneori autorul folosind stiluri diferite de expunere) si de o senzualitate aparte intre povestirile ce lasau, diferit si totusi la fel, acele stari de iubire somnolenta si distanta, privita oarecum obiectiv si totusi permitand sa fie transmise cu o putere unica.

Hai sa povestesc exact cate putin din fiecare nuvela (in speranta ca nu voi trada nimic din apartele acestora si ca voi putea, la finele acestei, sper eu, scurte prezentari, sa pot recomanda volumul cu sincera credinta ca el va prezenta aceleasi enigme si (ne)intelesuri pentru tine.)

"Dansatoarea din Izu" povestirea care da nu mele volumului si care a primit premiul Nobel pentru literatura este desigur si cea mai europenizata, cea mai clara si cea mai formala dintre toate nuvelele intalnite in acest volum. In ea se vorbeste despre un drum de initiere sau mai degraba, de un drum de cautare a unui sine pierdut. De asemenea, aceasta nuvela este singura care nu se atinge cu mai nimic de celelalte, probabil si datorita faptul ca personajul principal este un tanar intr-o calatorie initiatica si nu un personaj ce priveste intr-un trecut ce se coaguleaza cu prezentul.

"Fantezii de Cristal" este una dintre nuvelele care m-a impresionat cel mai mult, atat din cele citite in acest volum cat si in general. De altfel, nici nu stiu daca aceasta scriere poate fii, pe deplin, definita ca fiind o nuvela deoarece atat stilul folosit cat si povestea in sine este mai degraba un colaj facut din imagini neclare si indecise.

"Elegie" este, pe de alta parte, un discurs direct si atent al unei iubite catre iubitul ei mort. O combinatie de fantastic si real in care personajul-narator expune viata de dupa moarte in diferite teorii, relationand-o cu propria perspectiva si desigur cu sentimentele pentru iubitul ei. O bucata de text ceva mai dificil de parcurs si datorita paginilor nesfarsite de teori contorsionate de catre o iubita indurerata.

"Animale" pe de alta parte, face tranzitia nuvelelor catre un alt plan, acela al realationarii iubirii de animale in comparatie cu iubirea fata de o alta persoana. Dupa cum vei vedea si intr-o alta dintre nuvelele sale, Kawabata desluseste in aceasta nuvela un personaj mai degraba inchis intr-o lume cu animale, datorita neputintei (sau nevointei?) de a relationa cu oamenii. In aceasta imposibilitate se coaguleaza, desigur, si iubirea pentru o femeie si toul se combina cu ciripit de pasari cantatoare ce mor, inevitabil, in mainile grijuli dar neputincioase ale personajului.

"Cantecul italian" este una din cele doua nuvele avand ca axa secundara cel de-al doilea razboi mondial. Aceasta nuvela este, probabil mai mult decat orice altceva, un exercitiu de naratiune, un exercitiu abil si perfect construit in care autorul introduce anumite sentimente pentru a putea coagula toate spiralele insignifiante ale povestirii.

"Sturzul" este o povestire despre iubire si delasare. Despre indiferenta si obsesie, fiind cea de-a doua povestire avand ca subiect pasarile cantatoare, reusind sa aduca o stare de disconfort si dizgratie odata cu derularea unei povestiri "de casnicie" oarecum pierduta printre cantarile unui sturz pentru care, personajul masculin facuse o obsesie.

"Reintalnirea", cea de-a doua nuvela avand ca axa secundara cel de-al doilea razboi mondial, este o alta despre regasire dar, fiind cea mai atent legata de evenimentul istoric mai sus mentionat, este vorba despre regasirea unui eu citadin, multicolor si indecis dupa o perioada de pauza, razboiul oprind oprind totul in loc pentru personajul masculin, principal.

"Luna in apa" este probabil cea mai emotionanta si cea mai romantica dintre toate nuvelele din acest volum, centrandu-se in jurul unei femei care isi pierduse primul sot dupa ce-l ingrijise multa vreme, casatorindu-se la ceva vreme cu un alt barbat. Aceasta, desi primeste tot ce nu primise de la primul tanjeste totusi dupa acesta datorita unei iubiri aparte, aproape inconstiente, organice de care nu se poate desprinde in ciuda anumitor incercari. Aceasta ultima nuvela are o legatura profunda si atent trasata cu "Fantezii de Cristal", amandou prezentand lumea mai degraba prin reflexiile oglinzilor, dezvoltand adevarate teorii spiritual-sentimentale cu privire la aceste obiecte.

Nu am stiut cum altcumva sa descriu aceasta colectie de povestiri. Fondul si forma nuvelelor lui Kawabata sunt atat de aparte, uneori ciudate, clar definite uneori prin neclaritatea lor, introducandu-te intr-o "suspended animation" specifica autorului, incat nu am stiut cum altcumva, decat printr-o descriere scolastica si sper nu foarte rece, sa le prezint pentru a te imbia sa citesti macar cateva dintre nuvelele cuprinse in acest volum (recomand cu multa caldura "Luna in Apa" si "Fantezii de Cristal" desi nici restul nu sunt de lepadat).

P.S. Scuze, am vorbit cam mult.

Grave of the Fireflies

tezeu — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 19:23:56 +0000

Am amanat foarte mult urmarirea acestui anime. Sau poate n-am manat destul? Acum vreo saptamana-doua am scos de un torrent un top 20 imdb animations of all times, desigur, top impanzit de Anime.uri cum ar fii Spirited Away, My neighbor Todoro si desigur, Grave of the Fireflies.

Cu acea ocazie, in culmea fericirii, i-am recomandat si Emei Spirited Away (un anime la care, spre bucuria proprie, plang de fiecare data si nu pentru ca este "la crimogene"... ci pentru ca imprastie atata bunatate si liniste si viata si puritate incat nu poti decat sa plangi... despre Spirited Away cu o alta ocazie).

Filmul, produs de Isao Takahata, geniu al artei animate japoneze, este ecranizarea unui roman pe jumatate biografic, al lui Akyiuki Nosaka, in care se vorbeste despre doi copii, un baiat si sora lui mult mai mica, din Japonia celui de-al doilea razboi mondial. Banal aproape, nu?

Nu si daca anime.ul incepe cu "September 21, 1945... that was the night I died.". Tot ceea ce face filmul este sa vorbeasca despre conditia umana si bla bla si bla bla. Cu adevarat, tragic. As putea vorbi ore despre toata problema asta si nu m-as opri asa ca-i pun un stop scurt, spunand ca, la finele razboiului, moment in care Imperiul Nipon capituleaza, "era o periodata in care parca si timpul murise, cand multi dintre oameni se cufundau in vartejul care distrusese si aruncase in confuzie trecutul, prezentul si viitorul, atat national cat si personal." (Yasunari Kawabata - Reintalnirea) si era momentul in care Seito, personajul principal, cu tatal mort in razboi, cu mama arsa de vie in unul dintre primele bombardamente, cu sora mai mica murind de malnutritie in timpul razboiului sub grija lui, isi da obstescul sfarsit.

Asa incepe filmul... apoi suntem purtati incet, atent, spre noaptea unde licuricii stralucesc, unde Seito, imbracat frumos isi ia in grija surioara vesela si plina de viata. Si totul se ia de la inceput, ca intr-un vartej continuu. Ce pot spune? Imagini terifiante, memorabile, incandescente, specifice anime.urilor cu adevarat valoroase (nu dau exemple acum de imagini, ideea e sa vezi anime.ul) cu melodii si stari si trairi si tot... nefacand decat sa caracterizeze deja un stil atent format prin anul 1988, cand acest anime a fost lansat.

Sa-ti spun sincer... nu vroiam sa povestesc despre Grave of the Fireflies desi il recomand cu multa caldura celor care au uitat sa mai simta durerea si tristetea si bucuria simpla (daca nu le vor redescoperi nici in acest anime, sunt pierduti pe vesnicie) si il recomand cu si mai multa caldura celor care le simt intens pe toate cele enumerate mai sus pentru ca vor avea o forma aparte a lor.

Ti-l recomand tie, pentru ca-mi citesti blog.ul si daca mi-l citesti inseamna ca poti aprecia ce pot aprecia si eu. Cred... ma rog. Despre acest anime am vrut sa vorbesc pentru ca, duminica noapte, dupa ce toate gandurile si toate sentimentele contradictorii si toate vorbele si toate... au amutit, lasand loc intunericului si negrului, prin acel negru au inceput sa rasara cativa licurici iar apoi in raset de copil inveselit si au inceput incet, incet, sa mi se deruleze in minte secvente aparte din acest film si m-am intrebat, sincer, daca dupa Grave of the Fireflies voi mai putea, vreodata, vedea intunericul in forma lui pura, fara sa apara licurici si rasete de copil si veselie sincera si iubire.

Cam atat... si ma repet, iti recomand acest film pentru ca face parte din apex.ul cinematografiei animate nipone si nu poate fii ratat.

美しさと哀しみと Utsukushisa to Kanashimi to - Yasunari Kawabata

Dada — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 08:59:03 +0000

Penulis : Yasunari Kawabata

Judul Asli : 美しさと哀しみと Utsukushisa to Kanashimi to

Judul : Keindahan dan Kesedihan

Negara : Jepang

Genre : Sastra

Penerbit : Jalasutra

Halaman : 253

ISBN :

Buku ini merupakan eksplorasi akan sebuah hubungan yang ganjil dan vulgar melibatkan novelis sukses , Oki Toshio, berusia 54 tahun yang telah menikah , dengan reuni perselingkuhan dengan Otoko , seorang pelukis cantik dan sukses berusia 39 tahun . Dari pusaran yang timbul dari masa lalu yang kelam , seorang anak didik Otoko –Keiko berusia 24 tahun masuk dalam pusaran tersebut , memainkan peranan aneh diantara hubungan segitiga tiga generasi tersebut.

Kawabata dengan berani mengungkapkan sebua h gambaran masyarakat modern , dan keganjilan , kesunyian yang tersembunyi dibalik hiruk pikuk masyarakat urban—kesunyian penghuni hutan beton , membuat hasrat bertumpuk – tumpuk dengan derajat keliarannya, menunggu pelampiasan, memungkinkan kisah apapun terjadi.

http://parahyangan.wordpress.com/2007/02/09/beauty-and-sadness-%E7%BE%8E%E3%81%97%E3%81%95%E3%81%A8%E5%93%80%E3%81%97%E3%81%BF%E3%81%A8-utsukushisa-to-kanashimi-to/

The Grasshopper and the Bell Cricket

Meredith — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 21:07:11 +0000

"The Grasshopper and the Bell Cricket"

Walking along the tile-roofed wall of the university, I turned aside and approached the upper school. Behind the white board fence of the school playground, from a dusky clump of bushes under the black cherry trees, an insect's voice could be heard. Walking more slowly and listening to that voice, and furthermore reluctant to part with it, I turned right so as not to leave the playground behind. When I turned to the left, the fence gave way to another embankment planted with orange trees. At the corner, I exclaimed with surprise. My eyes gleaming at what they saw up ahead, I hurried forward with short steps.

At the base of the embankment was a bobbing cluster of beautiful varicolored lanterns, such as one might see at a festival in a remote country village. Without going any farther, I knew that it was a group of children on an insect chase among the bushes of the embankment. There were about twenty lanterns. Not only were there crimson, pink, indigo, green, purple, and yellow lanterns, but one lantern glowed with five colors at once. There were even some little red store-bought lanterns. But most of the lanterns were beautiful square ones the children had made themselves with love and care. The bobbing lanterns, the coming together of children on this lonely slope - surely it was a scene from a fairy tale?

One of the neighborhood children had heard an insect sing on this slope one night. Buying a red lantern, he had come back the next night to find the insect. The night after that, there was another child. This new child could not buy a lantern. Cutting out the back and front of a small carton and papering it, he placed a candle on the bottom and fastened a string to the top. The number of children grew to five, and then to seven. They learned how to color the paper that they stretched over the windows of the cutout cartons, and to draw pictures on it. Then these wise child-artists, cutting out round, three-cornered, and lozenge leaf shapes in the cartons, coloring each little window a different color, with circles and diamonds, red and green, made a single and whole decorative pattern. The child with the red lantern discarded it as a tasteless object that could be bought at a store. The child who had made his own lantern threw it away because the design was too simple. The pattern of light that one had had in hand the night before was unsatisfying the morning after. Each day, with cardboard, paper, brush, scissors, penknife, and flue, the children made new lanterns out of their hearts and minds. Look at my lantern! Be the most unusually beautiful! And each night, they had gone out on their insect hunts. These were the twenty children and their beautiful lanterns that I now saw before me.

Wide-eyed, I loitered near them. Not only did the square lanterns have old-fashioned patterns and flower shapes, but the names of the children who had made them were cut out in square letters of the syllabary. Different from the painted-over red lanterns, others (made of thick cutout cardboard) had their designs drawn upon the paper windows, so that the candle's light seemed to emanate from the form and color of the design itself. The lanterns brought out the shadows of the bushes like dark light. The children crouched eagerly on the slope wherever they heard an insect's voice.

"Does anyone want a grasshopper?" A boy, who had been peering into a bush about thirty feet away from the other children, suddenly straightened up and shouted.

"Yes! Give it to me!" Six or seven children came running up. Crowding behind the boy who had found the grasshopper, they peered into the bush. Brushing away their outstretched hands and spreading out his arms, the boy stood as if guarding the bush where the insect was. Waving the lantern in his right hand, he called again to the other children.

"Does anyone want a grasshopper? A grasshopper!"
"I do! I do!" Four or five more children came running up. It seemed you could not catch a more precious insect than a grasshopper. The boy called out a third time.
"Doesn't anyone want a grasshopper?"
Two or three more children came over.
"Yes. I want it."
It was a girl, who just now had come up behind the boy who'd discovered the insect. Lightly turning his body, the boy gracefully bent forward. Shifting the lantern to his left hand, he reached his right hand into the bush.
"It's a grasshopper."
"Yes. I'd like to have it."
The boy quickly stood up. As if to say "Here!" he thrust out his fist that held the insect at the girl. She, slipping her left wrist under the string of her lantern, enclosed the boy's fist with both hands. The boy quietly opened his fist. The insect was transferred to between the girl's thumb and index finger.
"Oh! It's not a grasshopper. It's a bell cricket." The girl's eyes shone as she looked at the small brown insect.
"It's a bell cricket! It's a bell cricket!" The children echoed in an envious chorus.
"It's a bell cricket. It's a bell cricket."
Glancing with her bright intelligent eyes at the boy who had given her the cricket, the girl opened the little insect cage hanging at her side and released the cricket in it.
"It's a bell cricket."
"Oh, it's a bell cricket," the boy who'd captured it muttered. Holding up the insect cage close to his eyes, he looked inside it. By the light of his beautiful many-colored lantern, also held up at eye level, he glanced at the girl's face.

Oh, I thought. I felt slightly jealous of the boy, and sheepish. How silly of me not to have understood his actions until now! Then I caught my breath in surprise. Look! It was something on the girl's breast which neither the boy who had given her the cricket, nor she who had accepted it, nor the children who were looking at them noticed.

In the faint greenish light that fell on the girl's breast, wasn't the name "Fujio" clearly discernable? The boy's lantern, which he held up alongside the girl's insect cage, inscribed his name, cut out in the green papered aperture, onto her white cotton kimono. The girl's lantern, which dangled loosely from her wrist, did not project its pattern so clearly, but still one could make out, in a trembling patch of red on the boy's waist, the name "Kiyoko." This chance interplay of red and green - if it was chance or play - neither Fujio nor Kiyoko knew about.

Even if they remembered forever that Fujio had given her the cricket and that Kiyoko had accepted it, not even in dreams would Fujio ever know that his name had been written in green on Kiyoko's breast or that Kiyoko's name had been inscribed in red on his waist, nor would Kiyoko ever know that Fujio's name had been inscribed in green on her breast or that her own name had been written in red on Fujio's waist.

Fujio! Even when you have become a young man, laugh with pleasure at a girl's delight when, told that it's a grasshopper, she is given a bell cricket; laugh with affection at a girl's chagrin when, told that it's a bell cricket, she is given a grasshopper.

Even if you have the wit to look by yourself in a bush away from the other children, there are not many bell crickets in the world. Probably you will find a girl like a grasshopper whom you think is a bell cricket.

And finally, to your clouded, wounded heart, even a true bell cricket will seem like a grasshopper. Should that day come, when it seems to you that the world is only full of grasshoppers, I will think it a pity that you have no way to remember tonight's play of light, when youre name was written in green by your beautiful lantern on a girl's breast.

Yasunari Kawabata

La casa de les belles adormides, de Yasunari Kawabata

diguemariadna — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 14:02:11 +0000

Yasunari Kawabata (1899- 1972), escriptor japonès contemporani, va ser el primer d'aquesta nacionalitat en rebre el Premi Nobel de Literatura, el 1968.

KAWABATA, Yasunari. LA CASA DE LES BELLES ADORMIDES (Nemureru bijo, 1960). Barcelona: Viena Edicions, 2007; 119 pp; traduït per Sandra Ruiz i Albert Mas-Griera; ISBN 84-8330-458-7. Il.lustració de la coberta: Amants a l'habitació de dalt de Kitagawa Utamaro.

El vell Eguchi visita la casa de les belles adormides per recomanació d'un amic. Malgrat creure que ell no és tan vell, ni té les mateixes necessitats dels altres ancians clients, tornarà a visitar-la en diverses ocasions.

Un vell i una jove nua adormida. En un mateix llit, vellesa i joventut. Somnis de vida i records del passat. Drogues per adormir i pastilles blanques per sedar.

" 'A l'home vell, la mort; a l'home jove l'amor; la mort, una sola vegada, l'amor, tantes que no les puc comptar!' Se n'havia sorprès, però això el va assossegar. No feia per a ell ser tan emfàtic. De fora se sentia el barbull de la neu barrejada amb la pluja. El soroll del mar semblava ofegar-s'hi. Va presentar-se a l'ancià la visió d'una mar vasta i fosca, on les volves de neu es desfeien en caure."

La vellesa. El pas del temps queda escrit en el rostre i la memòria. El cos va cedint al pes del passat, d'allò viscut i d'allò no viscut, fent que l'ombra que surt dels peus esdevingui un contorn distant del reflex del que un dia va ser la joventut. Els anys cauen, llisquen entre les fissures de les fustes clivellades que cobreixen els records, quedant arraconats a dins sota un munt de pols.

La joventut. El cos nu d'una jove i l'olor a vida, a primavera, a flors i a llet. Aquella innocència que respira, fent pujar i baixar el pit que tremolós es mou, pot tenir un poder més enllà de la bellesa i el desig: obrir la porta dels records. Fragments de memòria desvetllats per la pell fina i suau, l'escalfor d'un cos jove i bell i la visió de la vulnerabilitat descoberta i sense màscares. La nuesa adormida, crua i natural al descobert.

Una casa on a canvi de diners vells ancians jeuen amb belles joves. Adormides elles, alienes a la decrepitud d'un cos i a la pèrdua de vigorositat d'una vida, permetran reviure en ells records d'una joventut perduda. Drogues que les adormen a elles i dues pastilles blanques que els sedaran a ells en els somnis perduts del passat recuperat. Un ancià es pregunta i es neguiteja, reflexionant sobre el sexe i la mort que no oculta un desig sexual que l'edat encara no ha ofegat del tot. Joves que dormen profundament un son similar a la mort, mentre el vell no acaba de complir la condició de la casa de les belles adormides. Un to poètic i fosc, viscós, que es va extenent al llarg del relat, barreja de vida i barreja de mort, amb el desig i la no acceptació del pas del temps com a eixos que fan girar els subtils engranatges de la condició humana.

... Els dits l'agafaran i els moviments circulars, cada cop més hàbils, l'anirant extenent. S'ompliran els solcs, buscant aquella llum i aquella vida perdudes. Durant unes hores, el rostre vell i arrugat que cada matí davant del mirall, continua sense voler reconèixer aquell reflex com a seu, buscarà l'engany de la màscara...

Yasunari Kawabata, "País de Nieve."

Sir G — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 12:13:51 +0000

Shimamura es un acomodado empresario de Tokio que pasa ciertas temporadas lejos de la ciudad y su familia en estadías que entiende como etapas de búsqueda interior. Es un hombre vacío, incapaz de demostrar sus sentimientos y que se despoja a sí mismo de emociones intensas. Su fortuna y empresa fueron heredadas, por lo que tampoco tuvo nunca preocupaciones de primera necesidad ni que lidiar con los problemas que aquejan al común de la gente. Vendría a ser para muchos un afortunado que puede darse el lujo de gastar su tiempo en el ocio de la contemplación o en los placeres aburguesados.

Al empezar la novela, Shimamura viaja en tren en dirección al País de Nieve, la zona oeste de Japón, quizá el lugar donde cae más nieve del mundo. Vuelve siguiendo el recuerdo de una jovencita, de nombre Komako, que conoció anteriormente en su estancia en una estación termal. La casualidad quiso que la aprendiz de geisha prestara su inexperiencia a los servicios de Shimamura y que en estas circunstancias ambos quedaran impresionados. El País de Nieve, nos es presentado, pues, por la mirada distante de este capitalino que, pese a su decidida introducción a admirar la exhuberancia limpia y el exotismo que ofrece aquel paraje tan distinto a la ciudad, no deja de hacerlo con timidez, simple curiosidad y atento a no adentrarse demasiado, como un turista convencido.

El carácter voyerista de nuestro protagonista queda resaltado en las primeras páginas de la novela en las que observa a través de reflejo de la ventana del tren a otra joven de sorprendente belleza, la perturbadora Yoko, que posteriormente descubriremos como compañera de trabajo de Komako. El autor nos entrega así el trasfondo de su novela, nos revela su exaltación por la belleza de la vida y cultura rural japonesa que es una constante en su obra.

La historia de amor se divide en tres partes: la primera, conformada por los recuerdos que vienen a Shimamura de su primera estancia en la estación termal cuando conoce a la entonces aprendiz de geisha, Komako; la segunda que narra el regreso de Shimamura al País de Nieve en donde encuentra a una Komako recién iniciada en el oficio de geisha; y la tercera, que cuenta la tercera visita de nuestro protagonista a la región cuando ya Komako es toda una profesional.

Al contrario de Komako, que evoluciona y crece a lo largo de la novela, deja de ser la niña ingenua para convertirse en una joven responsable con aspiraciones y sueños maduros, Shimamura será el mismo personaje inmutable, auto-convencido de su estancamiento, frustrante, que únicamente se permite la sorpresa ante el cambio que progresivamente observa en Komako, rasgos que le impedirán interpretar sus sentimientos y desatar su amor. Por su parte, la joven geisha no sólo cambia para sí misma, también la mirada con la que percibe a su amigo y visitante muda de una primera llena de ilusión e incomprensión para convertirse a otra más bien resignada. Descubre, a lo largo de la novela, que su amigo sólo tendrá para ella señales ambiguas, al punto de que llega a no esperar nada más de él que una confusa amistad que acepta con limpieza campesina. Shimamura andará vacilante entre el amor de y hacia Komako, la conmovedora tanto por bella como por agreste naturaleza de la zona, y su vida en la ciudad de la que siempre escapa. Se convierte en el típico personaje que visita la zona: citadino que huye siempre del campo y la ciudad y que a ninguno de los dos se entrega.

En la tercera parte de la historia, Yoko pide a nuestro protagonista que la saque del pueblo, que la lleve a la ciudad, que la ayude, cosa que, desde luego, no hará nuestro personaje. Es ella la única que pone en claro sus sentimientos en esta historia y, por eso mismo, se convertirá en una mártir con desenlace trágico.

Yasunari Kawabata con País de Nieve nos transmite su nostalgia hacia la cultura y el estilo de vida simple y tradicional de las zonas rurales del Japón que, advierte, se abren peligrosamente hacia el mundo urbano y citadino. Es también una exaltación a la belleza de la zona sometida a los avatares y evoluciones naturales que viven los animales, las plantas de la región y sus habitantes mismos que tienen que estar a la altura de la naturaleza, cuyas duras alteraciones los preparan, de la misma manera, para aceptar tranquilamente sus cambios interiores, sus sentimientos y emociones. Deja muy mal parado a Shimamura quien por momentos se torna insoportable.

Publicado originalmente en La Siega (www.lasiega.org).

The Master of Go, Yasunari Kawabata

culturesquad — Sun, 04 May 2008 10:16:22 +0000

Go is a strategic game in which two players must place their stones on a Go board in such a way that they surround the enemy stones, and eliminate them.

Cast of characters:

The reporter: he tells this true story and writes for a newspaper named Nichinichi Shimbun.

The Master of Go: the master of Go. Respected by all other players in spite of his low health.

Otaké: The Master of Go’s final opponent, and a player of the seventh rank.

The story begins in the 1930s and ends in 1940, when the master dies. It is not in chronological order because of the fact that the story begins when the match ends, goes to the master’s death, then ‘resumes’ to the beginning of the match, only then gradually advancing to the end. I will only give a 5/10 star rating for this book because it completely lacked in action: I’m not the kind of person to like this book. And so the book was ‘boring’: an average verse would look something like this:

“Fierce”, said Otaké, wiping his forehead and hair with a small towel. “And Go is fierce too.”

“Up to Hokoné we’ve come, we’ve come, the steepest of them all…”

With time out for lunch, Otaké took three hours and thirty five minutes to play black59.

Històries en el palmell de la mà, de Yasunari Kawabata

diguemariadna — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 09:40:39 +0000

Yasunari Kawabata (1899- 1972), escriptor japonès contemporani, que va ser el primer, d'aquesta nacionalitat, en rebre el Premi Nobel de Literatura, el 1968.

KAWABATA, Yasunari. HISTORIAS EN LA PALMA DE LA MANO (Tenohira No Shosetsu, recull des de 1923 al 1972). Buenos Aires: Emecé editores, 2a. reimpressió, 2005; 289 pp; traduït per Amalia Sato; ISBN 950-04-2738-9

Setanta relats que escrits ocupen el palmell d'una mà. Històries breus, miniatures reduïdes a l'essència de la solitud, l'amor, el temps i la mort, dins d'atmosferes i situacions intenses, concentrades i fragmentades.

Breus. Llampecs de fantasia i realitat. Miniatures. Captures de tinta sobre la pell. Sentiments i relacions en el pas del temps.

"Aun si tienes la astucia de buscar solo en un arbusto, alejado de otros niños, debes saber que no abundan los grillos en este mundo. Probablemente encuentres una muchacha parecida a una langosta a quien veas como un grillo."

La langosta y el grillo.

"Si hay otra joven que deba ser mi esposa, muéstrame su rostro reflejado en el agua, le rogó al lago. Estaba convencido de que era posible ver a través del tiempo y del espacio. Por eso era un solitario."

El arreglo de bodas de los gorriones.

"Me puse de pie. Si me ponían la máscara, y luego me la quitaban, quedaría horrible como un demonio a los ojos de mi mujer. Sentí miedo de la bella máscara. Y ese temor me despertó la sospecha de que el rostro siempre gentil y sonriente de mi mujer podía ser un artificio, tal como la máscara."

El hombre que no sonreía.

La recerca de l'essència i la puresa en la tasca d'escriure, dóna per resultat el fragment mínim, capaç de condensar la història, de manera breu i completa. Els mots justos, que encaixen a la perfecció en el traç escrit en el palmell d'una mà oberta, que espera en la seva part còncava l'escriptura creada. Fantasies i realitats, al voltant de l'amor i la solitud, el pas del temps i de la mort, omplen aquest palmell sense descans, malgrat dies, setmanes, mesos i anys. Una trajectòria de l'escriptura al llarg de la vida de l'autor, de la joventut a la maduresa, de l'aprenentatge al treball, queda recollida en un breu espai. Paraules, minimitzades amb precisió dins de contes breus de gran bellesa i lirisme, que mostren la puresa literària de Yasunari Kawabata.

... Una forta olor a terra remenada, amb tossuderia i necessitat. Un espai minúscul, reduït al pas del propi cos entre la flonjor del sòl humit per la pluja. Un moviment entre el plaer i el sentit de l'existència, dibuixa filigranes en la profunditat. El cuc de terra menja sense descans el mateix camí que va seguint...

País de neu, de Yasunari Kawabata

diguemariadna — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 15:36:32 +0000

Yasunari Kawabata (1899- 1972), escriptor japonès contemporani, que va ser el primer, d'aquesta nacionalitat, en rebre el Premi Nobel de Literatura, el 1968.

KAWABATA, Yasunari. PAÍS DE NIEVE (Yukiguni, 1935). Barcelona: Emecé Editores, 3a. reimpressió, 2005; 177 pp; traduït per César Duran; ISBN 84-95908-46-8

En Shimamura, com molts homes japonesos, va a l'estació termal, a fugir del seu matrimoni i de la seva vida a Tòquio. Allí coneix a la jove aprenent de geisha, la Komako, innocent i apassionada. El pas del temps i de les estacions, faran que les trobades es repeteixin i vagin fluint cap a una història no satisfeta, on apareixerà una altra jove, la Yoko.

Vent gelat que anuncia neu. Hiverns llargs, amors i el pas del temps. Una estació termal, un home i dues joves. Amor fracassat, amor rival i amor perdut.

"Un frío destello perdido en la distancia. Y cuando su diminuto fulgor prendió en la misma pupila de la muchacha, cuando se sobrepusieron y se confundieron el resplandor de la mirada y el de la luz clavada en la lejanía, se produjo un verdadero milagro de la hermosura, abierto en flor en un reino imaginario, con aquel ojo iluminado que parecía navegar sobre el océano de la noche y las rápidas olas de las montañas."

Contrast d'estacions, de vida i de sentiments. En Kawabata, amb un estil poètic i bell, juga amb els vèrtex d'un triangle amorós. Oscil.lacions entre la bellesa i la decadència, la passió i el rebuig, la naturalesa i la quotidianitat, per omplir una història de detalls, de silencis i d'esdeveniments intuïts, que deixen una sensació d'agradable confusió, davant un final abrupte, que bé és un acabament, però podria ser una continuació. El protagonista veu crèixer una jove innocent i apassionada, però ell no la pot estimar. L'aparició d'una bella jove, desperta un desig i una curiositat, però tampoc serà amor. Els amors no satisfets, la rivalitat passada i present, la sensació de pèrdua del que no és té i del que es desitja, omplen la buidor de qui viu al marge de la passió i cobreixen les pàgines d'aquesta novel.la.

... Les passes desperten un suau soroll, com un xiuxiueig de veus apagades. A poc a poc, s'enfonsen en la blancor bella i pura del mantell de neu que ho cobreix tot. El vent gelat aixeca la pols de cristalls de glaç, que barrejats amb el so del brogit fred, esdevenen figures úniques i diferents que duen mil històries clavades, a cada aresta i a cada cara del seu cos polièdric...

La casa de las bellas durmientes, Yasunari Kawabata (Libros recomendados #2)

Maya — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 02:11:19 +0000

¿Tú también tienes una pesadilla? -preguntó.
Pero el viejo Eguchi no tardó en sumirse en las profundidades del sueño

El escritor japonés Kawabata YasunarI, es uno de los ejemplos más ricos de la delicada sutileza del arte japonés. Su obra, que él mismo definió como un intento de hallar la armonía entre el hombre, la naturaleza y el vacío es breve y su inicio en la literatura se da en diversas revisas literarias. Gana el Premio Nobel en 1968, se suicidaría tres años después. Y aquí comienzo a hablarles sobre “Las bellas adormecidas” o como ha sido traducido en la mayor parte de los países hispanohablantes “la casa de las bellas durmientes”.

En toda su obra, la angustia que la muerte provocaba en Kawabata se ve reflejada y en esta historia que nos narra el viejo Eguchi, hombre cercano a cumplir los ochenta años, sobre una secreta posada en las afueras de Kioto, donde los hombres viejos de cierto nivel van a pasar la noche en compañía de bellas jóvenes dormidas, desnudas y narcotizadas, ese terror constante y doloroso está presente en cada una de las noches que pasa en aquella casa, en cada una de aquellas jóvenes con quienes yace. Las reglas de la casa son claras: Los hombres no pueden mantener contacto sexual con las jóvenes y nunca, nunca deberán intentar despertarlas. Y noche tras noche dulces y dolorosos recuerdos acudirán al viejo Eguchi, La confirmación de la propia decrepitud y próxima muerte, los rostros de mujeres amadas en otros tiempos, la impotencia física y emocional de hacerle frente a una vida que ahora le supera y ve reflejada en el lozano cuerpo de cada una de las jóvenes dormidas a su lado, a quienes responde con dulzura, con dureza, con vergüenza, desesperación, y finalmente, con una pastilla que lo llevará a descansar inconsciente hasta llegar un nuevo día. Un día, que ha de decirse, no ha sido pedido ni anhelado.

First Snow on Fuji by Yasunari Kawabata and One Down, Another Started

Chris — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 03:44:00 +0000

My first thought after finishing First Snow on Fuji is that I think I'd like to try one of Yasunari Kawabata's novels. Like the other two books that I've read for the Japanese Reading Challenge, the language in this book was beautiful. Kawabata had a gift for capturing the fragility of human relationships and explores that in this collection of short stories. I thought that all of the stories were very well written, some I liked better than others, but I wanted more...as I so often do with short stories. Maybe I'm just not a short story guy, or maybe I'm reading the wrong authors. There are some authors that can deliver a short story perfectly for me and in fact, there were a few in this collection that worked perfectly for me. But the more I dive into short stories, the more I find that it's a true art form, to write a satisfying tale, a moral tale, a voyage, whatever the author sets to do, in so few pages.

My favorite of the stories in this collection was the first, titled This Country, That Country. It's the story of a young woman who reads a column in a local paper that talks about extravagant goings on in other countries (mostly European countries) and she reads an article about spouse swapping. She tucks the paper away after deciding not to show the article to her husband, a man who she is comfortable with and has a good life with, but there's no true passion. Her neighbors next door seem to have the perfect marriage and her neighbor's husband seems to be the perfect man. Her thoughts wander to what life would be life in another situation.

Another great story in the collection was Nature, which begins "To begin by saying that I heard the life story of a traveling actor at a spa is rather an old-fashioned narrative technique, but then...perhaps the story itself is old-fashioned..." And it is. I loved this story. It's the story of a man who has come to visit a spa where his deceased friend who was a writer used to stay. He finds there is an actor staying in the room where his friend used to always stay and goes to meet with him one night. They spend the night talking and the actor tells quite an interesting story of his past.

Silence was the last story that really stuck out to me. This was the story of an author who is now paralyzed, unable to write or speak. The narrator of the story goes to visit him, contemplating why he chooses not to use what little use he has left of his left hand. He could after all communicate, writing the Japanese characters of W for Water or T for Tea, but instead, he chooses to live out the rest of his days in silence. This was a beautifully contemplative piece and I really enjoyed it.

So as you can see, this one definitely had it's high points, but some of the other stories just didn't do it for me, or I just wanted a little more. But I'm glad I read this book. And with the end of this one, I'm done the Japanese Literature Challenge! My books read were:

The Sound of Waves by Yukio Mishima
Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
First Snow on Fuji by Yasunari Kawabata

I'd like to also fit in Yukio Mishima's Confessions of a Mask by the end of the month! Thanks again to Bellezza :) You rock!!!

------------------------------

So, I've finished one challenge, why not add another to the list! Becky's hosting another great challenge. How she manages to participate in and host all these challenges is beyond me. This one is the Margaret A. Edwards Reading Challenge and the challenge is to read 3-5 books between February 1st and June 1st by winners of the Margaret A. Edwards award. The award is given each year to an author who makes a lasting contribution in the field of young adult literature and this year it was given to Orson Scott Card!!! Guess who one of my authors will be? ;) So here's my list:

1. Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey (Deslily's review here) I can see that smile Pat ;)
2. Gifts by Ursula K. LeGuin
3. Something by Orson Scott Card

Yasunari Kawabata - Snow Country

verbivore — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 08:03:04 +0000

We had snow last week and the low mountains surrounding the village were a lovely white. Across the lake, the Alps are now boasting their beautiful winter plumage. The temperature has been hovering around zero for the past few weeks and it seemed like the perfect time to settle down with Yasunari Kawabata’s 1950s classic, Snow Country.

Snow Country is set in a mountainous region of Japan, a place of long winters and deep snows, of cold and dark living. A place of tunnels and buried buildings. This setting works to underline the novel’s emotional preoccupation – the bewildering coldness of the human heart, the inevitable decay of beauty and purity.

The novel takes place at an onsen (hot springs) resort and tells the story of an affair between a wealthy Tokyo man, Shimamura, and a geisha, Komako. Shimamura is incapable of love but drawn again and again to leave his family and visit Komako in the mountains. His rare visits and the life she must lead during his absences drain Komako of her innocence and ultimately her beauty.

Kawabata’s feel for the lonely aesthetic of the snow country is just tremendous:

The color of evening had already fallen on the mountain valley, early buried in shadows. Out of the dusk the distant mountains, still reflecting the light of the evening sun, seemed to have come much nearer.

Presently, as the mountain chasms were far and near, high and low, the shadows in them began to deepen, and the sky was red over the snowy mountains, bathed now in but a wan light.

Cedar groves stood out darkly by the river bank, at the ski ground, around the shrine.

Like a warm light, Komako poured in on the empty wretchedness that had assailed Shimamura.

I have written before about Tanizaki Junichiro’s essay, In Praise of Shadows. In it, Tanizaki lays out some of the principles of Japanese aesthetics – mainly, this idea of beauty in shadows. That art is rendered more beautiful through the darkness created at the borders of light.

Kawabata echoes this theory in Snow Country. The ultimate and inevitable failure of Shimamura and Komako’s affair is that unsettling but beautiful darkness hovering at the edge of what Kawabata chooses to illuminate: the warmth and steam from the hot springs, the crimson stain of hand-made Chijimi linen laid out on the snow and bleaching in the sun, the shimmery radiance of the Milky Way over the buried town.

Vencedores do Prêmio Nobel de Literatura

tigredefogo — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 00:50:54 +0000

Lista dos Vencedores do Prêmio Nobel de Literatura

2007 - Doris Lessing
2006 - Orhan Pamuk
2005 - Harold Pinter
2004 - Elfriede Jelinek
2003 - J. M. Coetzee
2002 - Imre Kertész
2001 - V. S. Naipaul
2000 - Gao Xingjian
1999 - Günter Grass
1998 - José Saramago
1997 - Dario Fo
1996 - Wislawa Szymborska
1995 - Seamus Heaney
1994 - Kenzaburo Oe
1993 - Toni Morrison
1992 - Derek Walcott
1991 - Nadine Gordimer
1990 - Octavio Paz
1989 - Camilo José Cela
1988 - Naguib Mahfouz
1987 - Joseph Brodsky
1986 - Wole Soyinka
1985 - Claude Simon
1984 - Jaroslav Seifert
1983 - William Golding
1982 - Gabriel García Márquez
1981 - Elias Canetti
1980 - Czeslaw Milosz
1979 - Odysseus Elytis
1978 - Isaac Bashevis Singer
1977 - Vicente Aleixandre
1976 - Saul Bellow
1975 - Eugenio Montale
1974 - Eyvind Johnson, Harry Martinson
1973 - Patrick White
1972 - Heinrich Böll
1971 - Pablo Neruda
1970 - Alexandr Solzhenitsyn
1969 - Samuel Beckett
1968 - Yasunari Kawabata
1967 - Miguel Angel Asturias
1966 - Shmuel Agnon, Nelly Sachs
1965 - Mikhail Sholokhov
1964 - Jean-Paul Sartre
1963 - Giorgos Seferis
1962 - John Steinbeck
1961 - Ivo Andric
1960 - Saint-John Perse
1959 - Salvatore Quasimodo
1958 - Boris Pasternak
1957 - Albert Camus
1956 - Juan Ramón Jiménez
1955 - Halldór Laxness
1954 - Ernest Hemingway
1953 - Winston Churchill
1952 - François Mauriac
1951 - Pär Lagerkvist
1950 - Bertrand Russell
1949 - William Faulkner
1948 - T.S. Eliot
1947 - André Gide
1946 - Hermann Hesse
1945 - Gabriela Mistral
1944 - Johannes V. Jensen
1939 - Frans Eemil Sillanpää
1938 - Pearl Buck
1937 - Roger Martin du Gard
1936 - Eugene O'Neill
1934 - Luigi Pirandello
1933 - Ivan Bunin
1932 - John Galsworthy
1931 - Erik Axel Karlfeldt
1930 - Sinclair Lewis
1929 - Thomas Mann
1928 - Sigrid Undset
1927 - Henri Bergson
1926 - Grazia Deledda
1925 - George Bernard Shaw
1924 - Wladyslaw Reymont
1923 - William Butler Yeats
1922 - Jacinto Benavente
1921 - Anatole France
1920 - Knut Hamsun
1919 - Carl Spitteler
1917 - Karl Gjellerup, Henrik Pontoppidan
1916 - Verner von Heidenstam
1915 - Romain Rolland
1913 - Rabindranath Tagore
1912 - Gerhart Hauptmann
1911 - Maurice Maeterlinck
1910 - Paul Heyse
1909 - Selma Lagerlöf
1908 - Rudolf Eucken
1907 - Rudyard Kipling
1906 - Giosuè Carducci
1905 - Henryk Sienkiewicz
1904 - Frédéric Mistral, José Echegaray
1903 - Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
1902 - Theodor Mommsen
1901 - Sully Prudhomme

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Lista dos livros mais vendidos

"Frumoasele Adormite"

tezeu — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 18:06:49 +0000

"Moartea e pentru batrani, dragostea e pentru tineri, moartea e odata, dragostea e de nenumarate ori." "Frumoasele Adormite" - Yasunari Kawabata

"Frumoasele Adormite" este un roman scurt al scriitorului japonez Yasunari Kawabata, primul nipon castigator al premiului Nobel pentru literatura, editia fiind lansata la editura Humaintas, in colectia "Cartea de pe noptierea" sub traducerea Anca Focseneanu.

Acest roman este, dupa parerea mea, unul ce trece dincolo de noptiera si reuseste sa se ingroape undeva printre cearsafuri, lasandu-si litere amortite pe o perna rosiatica. "Frumoasele Adormite" este o carte de perna, si intr-o oarecare masura mi-a adus aminte de filmul Pillow Book care insa nu trateaza exact aceeasi tema, dar se regaseste in acelasi mediu Japonez, in care sexualitatea primeste cu totul alte nuante, in comparatie cu lumea europeano-americana.

Cred ca cea mai apropiata carte cu care as putea asemui "Frumoasele Adormite" ar fi "La Tiganci" al lui Mircea Eliade deoarece foloseste acelasi motiv, acelasi obiect, acela al bordelului, al casei de toleranta, pentru a patrunde in trecutul unui personaj. De aici insa cele doua opere literare se despart. In timp ce Eliade opteaza pentru hierofanie, mult mai greu de inteles, pentru a face o calatorie in trecutul personajului sau principal, Kawabata se foloseste de memoria obiectiva (de flashbackul involuntar) pentru a prezenta trecutul personajului.

De asemenea, intre cele doua personaje exista o diferenta considerabila de varsta. In timp ce Gavrilescu (din "La tiganci") este un personaj intre doua varste, Egunchi (din 'Frumoasele Adormite") este un personaj in apropierea mortii, ce-si retraiesti acum, datorita frumoaselor adormite alaturi de care adoarme timp de cinci nopti, momentele emotional-sexuale din propria viata.

Desi, Equnchi este un personaj melancolic prin excelenta, el nu-si regrata trecutul, ci si-l aduce aminte ca o constanta amintire a unor vremuri tinere, in comparatie cu prezentul plin de oboseala si de neputinta. Ideea romanului se invarte astfel, in jurul personajului principal, Egunchi, ce frecventeaza, cu cinci ocazii diferite, pensiunea frumoaselor adormite, acolo unde, batranii neputinciosi au ocazia sa doarma alaturi de o fata tanara. Un lucru de observat in text este desigur nementionarea cu exactitate a neputintei batranilor, desi aparent este vorba doar de una sexuala. Egunchi stie despre el ca nu este neputincios dar legile ce guverneaza acel univers, al frumoaselor adormite, il fac sa ajunga intr-o stare de neputinta, in care personajul isi aduce aminte de perioada de tinerete, atunci cand totul era parca altfel.

De-a lungul celor cinci vizite Egunchi primeste de fiecare data cate o alta fata si alaturi de trupul ei adormit, pe care personajul il exploreaza cu o atentie acaparanta, isi aduce aminte de vremurile de demult, reusind sa doarma somnul cel de moarte, plin de vise pe care nici chiar el nu le poate descifra. De asemenea, memoria involutara se activeaza intr-o forma pe care personajul nu o poate cunoaste, intrebandu-se la un momendat "cum ma gandesc la... in momentul acesta?" denotand deci faptul ca personajul pierdea cu totul controlul, imediat ce era lasat singur, alaturi de fata adormita.

Inainte de a incheia aceasta mediocra recenzie, as dori sa mentionez ca n-am discutat despre stilul literar intrebuintat doarece, este o traducere. Totusi, daca vrei sa stii, aparent stilul este unul neingrijit, aratand o lipsa de dorinta in prelucrarea lui. Totusi, nu stiu daca acest lucru a fost o intentie a autorului, sau daca traducatoarea nu s-a putut ridica la nivelul asteptarilor, astfel si deci neputandu-mi spune parerea impertinena si neclara cu privire la acest text, cand vine vorba de partea stilistica.

In concluzie, "Frumoasele Adormite" este un text ce sangereaza melancolie, dar o melancolie constienta, erecta, o melancolie ce reuseste sa pastreze elementele fericite ale trecutului si totusi sa tanjeasca dupa trecerea lor, in incercarea simpla a personajului de a se pastra viu si putincios, in ciuda adevarului. Asa ca, fugi si cumpara-ti cartea pentru ca sunt foarte mici sanse sa nu-ti placa.

La casa de las bellas durmientes. Yasunari Kawabata

javierferrer2025 — Sun, 14 Oct 2007 08:05:11 +0000

"La casa de las bellas durmientes" es probablemente la obra maestra de Yasunari Kawabata, Premio Nobel de literatura japonés, y uno de los autores más conocidos y fecundos de la literatura japonesa contemporánea.

Es uno de los libros más esotéricos, bellos y profundos que he leído, y entre otras cosas ha servido de inspiración a Gabriel García Marquez para escribir su última novela "Memoria de mis putas tristes", otro libro precioso que no dudo en recomendar a todos.

La historia nos cuenta como Eguchi, un anciano de 67 años, visita una casa en la que puede disfrutar de la compañía de bellas jóvenes que tras haber sido narcotizadas, yacen desnudas en una habitación, y donde Eguchi, puede pasar la noche durmiendo al lado de ellas, eso sí, respetando las reglas de la casa que prohiben mantener relaciones sexuales con las jóvenes o intentar despertarlas.

El contacto con los bellos cuerpos desnudos de las jóvenes y la proximidad íntima de una juventud perdida despiertan en Eguchi todo un crisol de pensamientos. Una nostalgia por sueños inacabados, por días perdidos sin quizás haberlos tenidos jamás, todo un torrente de sentimientos que las jóvenes, dormidas y mudas, son capaces de decirle a Eguchi lo que desea oir.

Sentimientos como el deseo, la desolación, la nostalgia y el coqueteo con la muerte, se muestran de forma recurrente en "La casa de las bellas durmientes" haciendo de esta obra una joya y un clásico de la literatura japonesa, y por extensión de la literatura universal, que debe ser leído por todos aquellos amantes de las buenas letras, y que nos desvelará con fuerza la nostalgia de lo vivido y lo pasado, muchas veces enterrado y olvidado, que el contraste entre Eguchi y las bellas durmientes, entre la vitalidad de la juventud y la decadencia de la vejez, conseguirán hacer resurgir con fuerza en el personaje de la novela, y sin duda, en todos nosotros si nos mirarnos en un espejo de forma introspectiva.

Os recomiendo la edición de esta obra por Ediciones Caralt, que incluye un prólogo precioso de Yukio Mishima, otro gran escritor japonés, y autor de infinidad de obras que en próximas entradas os comentaré. Podéis comprar este maravilloso libro en la Casa del Libro.

¡Que lo disfrutéis!

- Javier Ferrer - www.javierferrer.com

The Old Capital, by Yasunari Kawabata

worldserpent — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 13:01:33 +0000

This is a short book set in Kyoto in the postwar period, but at times one almost believes it's Taisho or even Edo-period Kyoto; the heroine, Chieko, is a foundling raised by a traditional fabrics wholesaler, and the social structure surrounding the kimono business has an almost medieval feeling, as one must pick up the delicate threads of the social relations involved. Although her parents construct an elaborate lie about how her birth parents left the infant Chieko out of their site for a moment, and they spontaneously decided to snatch her, in reality, she was a twin, abandoned by her poor woodcutter parents outside the wholesaler's. (It's never explicitly explained just why they did this, but I think it was to spare her from the thought that she was abandoned; most of the human relationships in this novel work on a similar principle of understatement) The other twin, Naeko, was kept, but soon after, her parents died, and she is now herself a woodcutter's apprentice. Naeko has always yearned to meet her twin sister, and one day, they meet at a temple, but now the difference in their social statuses is such that Naeko always refers to her sister as "Miss" (probably ojousan?), although Chieko offers to take her in, but must settle simply for bestowing upon Naeko a magnificent obi and kimono. There's more to the plot than this, but it's actually somewhat difficult to summarize.

The main attraction of the novel, though, is its setting. Yes, you guessed it, Kawabata is working somewhat in the elegiac mode. The prosperous shop of Chieko's eventual fiance sells Sony radios to American tourists along with Japanese fabric souvenirs, and so the story reads like the evocation of a vanishing, anachronistic world. The events take place during the late summer, around the famed Gion festival, and the myriad other festivals following it (the novel does become more vivid if you do look up some info on what exactly takes place during this festival), so although the events of the novel may not sound very explosive, the prose, restrained imagery, and the cultural details manage to retain the reader's interest. (Indeed, actually, you don't need to have iconic characters or blockbuster plot to sustain a narrative, but if not, you need to be very good, or drawing from a deep well.) [Also, the general purity of the novel and the wholesomeness of the personages makes me equate this somewhat to Mishima's Sound of the Waves, meaning that both are Japanese novels that don't, as someone of my acquaintance put it, feature horrible and depressing events. Not that Kawabata's fiction contains anything nearly as disturbing as Mishima's, but this novel feels more positive than some of his other works.]

Yasunari Kawabata

climach — Mon, 02 Jul 2007 04:57:00 +0000

Approach A Thousand Cranes as if it were a poem instead of a novel. If you don’t, you’ll be bored beyond the ability to turn another page. If you do, you’ll find something beautiful.

How to you talk about adultery, incest, and betrayal and tea ceremonies among characters who make repression an art form?

With patience and compassion.

The Master of Go, by Yasunari Kawabata

worldserpent — Tue, 26 Jun 2007 02:41:56 +0000

It's always odd to read a book or watch a movie about a sport or game I have no idea how to play. Somehow I managed to watch twenty-six episodes of Akagi while only having the slightest inkling of how to play mahjong. Perhaps it is also shameful to confess that I also don't really even understand the basic idea behind cricket. Anyway, this is the third novel by Kawabata that I've read, the others being Snow Country and A Thousand Cranes, but the others I read for a class; perhaps what is intimidating about Kawabata is that despite, or because of the apparent simplicity of his style and diction, the 'clean, transparent feeling' (as one character says of the Go in this novel) is somewhat enigmatic. Like many writers of the 20th century Kawabata focuses on aesthetics and the distinction between the traditional and modern. (Sort of like Mishima, whom I'm trying to read in the Japanese now, of course, the focus on this kind of purity is perhaps exactly the opposite of the shocking and visceral within Mishima's works.)

The novel is partially based off of real events. Kawabata covered a match between a Master of Go (in the novel, Shusai), and a representative of the younger forces (in the novel, Otake). The Master's career has spanned three Imperial reigns; he is written as having simultaneously a vague and focused character, representing the artistic and traditionalistic form of Go. Throughout the marathon match, his health is failing, and there is at one point a months-long recess during which he convalesces. The opponent, Otake, while seeming at some points to be insensitive and taking advantage of the rules, is also likeably portrayed as the representative of the modern methods (characterized by the rigidity of the rules and contracts, and practice of sealed play.) The narrator also plays an important role in the plot, at one point giving a long speech to Otake in which he insists the match must continue because of its historical importance. Even, like me, if you do not understand the subtleties of Go, the descriptions of the surroundings, the drama surrounding the play, and above all, the atmosphere make this worth reading. (Also, FWIW, it's much more straightforward than A Thousand Cranes or Snow Country.)