Take a photo of a barcode or cover
4.04 AVERAGE
4.04 AVERAGE
While certainly the prose is lovely, and this window into Japanese nobility in the 1920s is kind of interesting, it just didn't have enough to keep me motivated. So setting it aside. Maybe some day I'll return to it
Moving this novel to "abandoned before completion". This book was a book club assignment and the author was compared favorably to Ishiguro. I love Ishiguro. I just could not get into this book though. I didn't care about any of the people in the book and the way the time / setting were brought to life weren't engage my enough to hold my interest either. In my earlier years, I never abandoned books. Now, I more readily do so if it fails to capture me or deliver some unique aspect (a particularly poetic voice or evocative setting, for instance).
4 and a half stars.
When I read a translated book, I'm always very conscious that what I'm reading is not necessarily what the author meant to write: I'm reading a book that's very much like what the author wrote but not really the same. I have no idea what Mishima's book is like in the original Japanese, but if this translation is anything like it, the beauty of the prose in Japanese must be devastating.
The story of Kioyaki and Satoko is, in and of itself, not remarkable: forbidden loves, especially in highly hierarchical and ritualized society, such as Imperial Japan on the cusp of modernization is nothing new, nor are bildungsroman about the often painful transition between boy and man. But the prose! The delicate, poetic and incredibly evocative prose turns this story into a dream-like journey in 1912 Japan, a world fascinated with the West but still holding on to deeply rooted traditions.
It has to be read slowly, to really let oneself bask into the elegant melancholy of Mishima's writing. It is dense at times, but so sensual and crisp that you forget how silly Kioyaki and Satoko are. They are both so beautiful and so spoiled, selfish and conceited that you wish someone would give them a good slap or two until they snapped out of ruining each others' lives. But Mishima writes them in a way that makes it impossible not to want to know what happens to them. It comes as no surprise that there is tragedy at the end of the path they follow. But what an interesting path!
And as gorgeous as the writing is, it reminded me of a really pleasant but too liberally applied perfume: it could get a bit overwhelming, and then I'd have to read the passage again to make sure I knew what was going on.
I will be looking for the rest of the "Sea of Fertility" tetralogy, which follows Kioyaki's friend Honda. The deep friendship between the two young men leads Honda to believe he meets successive reincarnations of Kioyaki and tries to save him from his karma. If the other three books are as good as "Spring Snow", they are more than worth the time!
When I read a translated book, I'm always very conscious that what I'm reading is not necessarily what the author meant to write: I'm reading a book that's very much like what the author wrote but not really the same. I have no idea what Mishima's book is like in the original Japanese, but if this translation is anything like it, the beauty of the prose in Japanese must be devastating.
The story of Kioyaki and Satoko is, in and of itself, not remarkable: forbidden loves, especially in highly hierarchical and ritualized society, such as Imperial Japan on the cusp of modernization is nothing new, nor are bildungsroman about the often painful transition between boy and man. But the prose! The delicate, poetic and incredibly evocative prose turns this story into a dream-like journey in 1912 Japan, a world fascinated with the West but still holding on to deeply rooted traditions.
It has to be read slowly, to really let oneself bask into the elegant melancholy of Mishima's writing. It is dense at times, but so sensual and crisp that you forget how silly Kioyaki and Satoko are. They are both so beautiful and so spoiled, selfish and conceited that you wish someone would give them a good slap or two until they snapped out of ruining each others' lives. But Mishima writes them in a way that makes it impossible not to want to know what happens to them. It comes as no surprise that there is tragedy at the end of the path they follow. But what an interesting path!
And as gorgeous as the writing is, it reminded me of a really pleasant but too liberally applied perfume: it could get a bit overwhelming, and then I'd have to read the passage again to make sure I knew what was going on.
I will be looking for the rest of the "Sea of Fertility" tetralogy, which follows Kioyaki's friend Honda. The deep friendship between the two young men leads Honda to believe he meets successive reincarnations of Kioyaki and tries to save him from his karma. If the other three books are as good as "Spring Snow", they are more than worth the time!
"La pérdida es la fuente necesaria de una nueva manifestación".
Más que la historia de un amor prohibido, es la historia de personajes que solo se encuentran felices en la dificultad y por tanto la provocan para recrearse en esa especie de penitencia. Las descripciones son bellísimas y construyen un ambiente opresivo de pasión creciente.
Más que la historia de un amor prohibido, es la historia de personajes que solo se encuentran felices en la dificultad y por tanto la provocan para recrearse en esa especie de penitencia. Las descripciones son bellísimas y construyen un ambiente opresivo de pasión creciente.
In true Mishima fashion, this book is filled with nature symbolism and philosophy, and philosophy and nature symbolism. His characters are conflicted when they don't need to be, provide a contrast between Royal ennui and rough "commoner" practicality. They also reflect a conflict between traditional Japanese ideals and Western philosophy that is encroaching on and shaping Japanese society post-1912. This is a tragic love story, the tragedy of which is shaped mainly by the main character's immaturity.
A beautifully written and tragic story. I really enjoyed the mixture of characters and perspectives, and the use of imagery and metaphor created incredibly vivid and memorable scenes. Philosophical parts were intriguing and have me eager to read the next 3 books to see how certain recurring themes will come into play. At the halfway point I was surprised by the direction the story took, and was slightly dissappointed by how it ended up being firmly a romance novel. We don't see any actual chemistry between Kiyo and Satoko but that was probably not the point. Painted a really vivid picture of 1910s Japan. 8.5/10.
The most important -- and used -- word in this book of historical fiction has to be 'elegant' (and its variations). And while the prose style itself is always elegant, the elegance of the ancient aristocracy is not always a good thing, as mostly it seems to be ineffective, even useless, for the situations the characters find themselves in. Those with 'new-money' have the power, but the novelist seems to like them even less than he does the aristocrats. (Even so, all the characters are well-rounded and multifaceted.) Caught in the middle of these two 'factions' (despite their differences, they use each other) is the 19-year-old protagonist, Kiyo, son of new-money but raised as a child by a noble family in order to acquire the elegance his parents lack.
The time is circa 1913; the Russo-Japanese War has recently ended; Japan is becoming Westernized, and Mishima doesn't like it. His sympathies seem to be with the old Japan (and Buddhism), when devotion to the Emperor was paramount -- (The soft shoulders that aroused such desire in him were opposing him with a force that drew on the weight of imperial sanction.) -- though perhaps the novelist's answer to the way to reconcile the new with the old can be found in the person of Kiyo's loyal friend, Shigekuni, and the Honda family.
The attention to nature, the flow of the seasons and its attendant rituals is beautifully done. The symbolism in the beginning is brought to fruition at the end; not a character is wasted.
I was lucky enough to be in Japan last year for "Coming of Age Day," which is for 20-year-olds, the age of majority in Japan; that age is, and becomes, important in this novel.
The time is circa 1913; the Russo-Japanese War has recently ended; Japan is becoming Westernized, and Mishima doesn't like it. His sympathies seem to be with the old Japan (and Buddhism), when devotion to the Emperor was paramount -- (The soft shoulders that aroused such desire in him were opposing him with a force that drew on the weight of imperial sanction.) -- though perhaps the novelist's answer to the way to reconcile the new with the old can be found in the person of Kiyo's loyal friend, Shigekuni, and the Honda family.
The attention to nature, the flow of the seasons and its attendant rituals is beautifully done. The symbolism in the beginning is brought to fruition at the end; not a character is wasted.
I was lucky enough to be in Japan last year for "Coming of Age Day," which is for 20-year-olds, the age of majority in Japan; that age is, and becomes, important in this novel.
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes