Daniel del Real
Moderator
For the past couple of months I embarked on a project of reading Japanese writers only. Here is the summary of a time I immensely enjoyed:
Japanese Literature
- Thread starter Stewart
- Start date
Tony W
Member
Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto This book is first published in 1988, still love it.
There's something about Japanese writers. They have the unparalleled ability of transforming an extremely ordinary scene from our everyday mundane lives into something magical and other-worldly. A man walking along a river-bank on a misty April morning may appear to our senses as an ethereal being, barely human, on the path to deliverance and self-discovery.
There's something deeply melancholic yet powerfully meaningful about the beautiful vignettes they beget. Few other writers are capable of creating such exquisite surrealistic imagery as the Japanese writers.
Kitchen, by Banana Yoshimoto, is no exception to this cherished convention.
Revolving around the theme of dealing with loss, Kitchen focuses on two young women as protagonists and their perceptions of life and death.
It tells us about how recurring personal tragedies shape and reshape our views on life and death, the kind of catharsis we wish for and the mechanisms we often end up resorting to, in order to keep our personal grief from spilling over into the realm of our everyday reality.
Kitchen is definitely not the most ingeniously narrated tale ever. Rather it suffers from the monotony of brief, simple sentences that may not sit well with some readers who love eloquence.
But this simplistic mode of narration helps it stay true to its original intention, that of recounting the story of ordinary people doing ordinary things yet coming to unexpectedly profound realizations about the great quandary of life.
There's something about Japanese writers. They have the unparalleled ability of transforming an extremely ordinary scene from our everyday mundane lives into something magical and other-worldly. A man walking along a river-bank on a misty April morning may appear to our senses as an ethereal being, barely human, on the path to deliverance and self-discovery.
There's something deeply melancholic yet powerfully meaningful about the beautiful vignettes they beget. Few other writers are capable of creating such exquisite surrealistic imagery as the Japanese writers.
Kitchen, by Banana Yoshimoto, is no exception to this cherished convention.
Revolving around the theme of dealing with loss, Kitchen focuses on two young women as protagonists and their perceptions of life and death.
It tells us about how recurring personal tragedies shape and reshape our views on life and death, the kind of catharsis we wish for and the mechanisms we often end up resorting to, in order to keep our personal grief from spilling over into the realm of our everyday reality.
Kitchen is definitely not the most ingeniously narrated tale ever. Rather it suffers from the monotony of brief, simple sentences that may not sit well with some readers who love eloquence.
But this simplistic mode of narration helps it stay true to its original intention, that of recounting the story of ordinary people doing ordinary things yet coming to unexpectedly profound realizations about the great quandary of life.
Liam
Administrator
Tony, have you seen any films by the revered Japanese filmmaker Yasujiro Ozu? They have the exact same quality you describe: an ordinary domestic scene, or an interaction between father and daughter, suddenly attains near-cosmic significance, despite being ordinary and "mundane" in nature. I would recommend Late Spring, Tokyo Story and An Autumn Afternoon most highly, among his other films!
Tony W
Member
Tony, have you seen any films by the revered Japanese filmmaker Yasujiro Ozu? They have the exact same quality you describe: an ordinary domestic scene, or an interaction between father and daughter, suddenly attains near-cosmic significance, despite being ordinary and "mundane" in nature. I would recommend Late Spring, Tokyo Story and An Autumn Afternoon most highly, among his other films!
Yes Liam. I love his work, and his lonely Edward Hopper cinematography is exqusite. Ozu really captures the transience of life. One of my favourite parts of the movie is when he cuts to the Vase, instead of focusing on her. Nerdwriter does great job on that scene, here.
Leseratte
Well-known member
"There's something about Japanese writers. They have the unparalleled ability of transforming an extremely ordinary scene from our everyday mundane lives into something magical and other-worldly. A man walking along a river-bank on a misty April morning may appear to our senses as an ethereal being, barely human, on the path to deliverance and self-discovery.
There's something deeply melancholic yet powerfully meaningful about the beautiful vignettes they beget. Few other writers are capable of creating such exquisite surrealistic imagery as the Japanese writers."
That´s it!
There's something deeply melancholic yet powerfully meaningful about the beautiful vignettes they beget. Few other writers are capable of creating such exquisite surrealistic imagery as the Japanese writers."
That´s it!
Tony W
Member
Leseratte, it is very unique. Murakami is the best known (arguably one of the best, but certainly most popular) for this: in After Dark you find a reflection of all of these elements, perfectly combined to create this simple story that has an underlying complexity that keeps the reader thinking. His style of narration is different here, we are the voyeuristic omnipresent God that overlooks the entire novel. We can pass through objects and we see the scenes unfolding like a film. Again it's ethereal - but the sensation of the reader hovering over the scene is masterful. Few writers can do that.
Leseratte
Well-known member
I must read more books by him, Tony. I´ve read mostly his short stories, but I am impressed by his original style.
Bartleby
Moderator
Has anyone here read Eiji Yoshikawa's Musashi? I bought it years ago, as a mid-teen, lured by the promise of an enticing, adventurous read... it was during a time when I still didn't pay much attention to the author's name on the cover, nor the book's literary quality, but a good story. I haven't read it since (the unabridged PT-BR translation runs for 1832 pages ? ).
Anyway, I'd just like to read some thoughts on what to expect from this gigantic novel
Anyway, I'd just like to read some thoughts on what to expect from this gigantic novel
Stevie B
Current Member
Never read it, but I do recall seeing copies of it in used bookstores now and then and thinking I'd rather read 4 or 5 other books in a similar amount of time it would take me to finish that one door-stopper of a novel (and the U.S. edition is fewer than 1,000 pages). If you do get through it, Bartleby, I'll be impressed by your reading stamina.?Has anyone here read Eiji Yoshikawa's Musashi? I bought it years ago, as a mid-teen, lured by the promise of an enticing, adventurous read... it was during a time when I still didn't pay much attention to the author's name on the cover, nor the book's literary quality, but a good story. I haven't read it since (the unabridged PT-BR translation runs for 1832 pages ? ).
Anyway, I'd just like to read some thoughts on what to expect from this gigantic novel
Ater Lividus Ruber & V
我ヲ學ブ者ハ死ス
Dalkey is publishing this "Tolstoyan" novel by Otohiko Kaga (tr. Albert Novick).
The original title is 湿原 . Reading some reviews, this work draws on the author's experience as a psychiatrist and researcher of criminal psychology to depict a story about mental illness, false accusations, and the abuse of state power. It is supposed to be very rich, heavy on details, tinged with religion yet not at all difficult to read. Many reviewers mention how beautiful and poignant the story is.
Marshland
By Otohiko KagaTranslated by Albert Novick ISBN: 9781628974041 Publication Date: 6/18/2024 Otohiko Kaga’s Marshland is an epic novel on a Tolstoyan scale, running from the pre-World War II period to the turbulence of 1960s Japan. At forty-nine, Atsuo Yukimori is a humble auto mechanic living an...
dalkeyarchive.store
The original title is 湿原 . Reading some reviews, this work draws on the author's experience as a psychiatrist and researcher of criminal psychology to depict a story about mental illness, false accusations, and the abuse of state power. It is supposed to be very rich, heavy on details, tinged with religion yet not at all difficult to read. Many reviewers mention how beautiful and poignant the story is.
Patrick Murtha
Reader
Books in Progress: Morio Kita, The House of Nire - Kita acknowledged the inspiration of Buddenbrooks for his massive family saga (765 pages in this edition; the translation originally took up two hardcovers). Even early on, that affinity is obvious, but Kita’s tone is more dryly humorous.
Stevie B
Current Member
I read this one when I was teaching in Japan many years ago, but I still have good memories of it being a very fun and enjoyable book (which is important at 700+ pages). Kita is the only Japanese author I wrote to when I was there. Not only did he write me back, but he also sent along a couple of books including a small paperback copy of "Doctor Manbo at Sea," a novella that features his trademark sense of humor.
I'll try to include a snap of his postcard later, but the English translation of his message provides some insight into his personality:
"In order to thank you for taking an interest in my writing, I am sending you some of my books - which are boring. Thank you for reading my boring books. I am a third-rate writer, however. Of course you know there are many great writers in Japan. You should bring books by these authors back to your country for teaching."
Patrick Murtha
Reader
^ That is very cool! I am impressed.
Stevie B
Current Member
As a thank you for the books he sent, I mailed Morio Kita a package of dried salmon from Alaska. He then sent me a thank you card for my thank you gift. So Japanese.
Leseratte
Well-known member
And so polite.As a thank you for the books he sent, I mailed Morio Kita a package of dried salmon from Alaska. He then sent me a thank you card for my thank you gift. So Japanese.
Patrick Murtha
Reader
As a thank you for the books he sent, I mailed Morio Kita a package of dried salmon from Alaska. He then sent me a thank you card for my thank you gift. So Japanese.
There is no reason this couldn’t have gone on indefinitely ?
Stevie B
Current Member
My one long-term correspondent was British author Jim Crace. We had a lot in common regarding our earlier travels. He sent me a copy of Booker finalist Quarantine weeks before it was officially released. I'd occasionally send unique candy treats and Japanese erasers for his young daughter Lauren. A couple of years ago, I was watching the PBS TV series "Mr Selfridge" when I noticed the name "Lauren Crace" in the acting credits. It was her. I should have used that as an impetus to reconnect, but I suppose it's never too late.
tiganeasca
Moderator
I have posted in other threads the columns appearing in the New York Times's series on "Read Your Way Through..." major cities of the world. Time for Japan and Tokyo! The author this time is Hiromi Kawakami. According to the NYT, she "is one of Japan’s most popular contemporary novelists. She has won numerous literary prizes in Japan and the United States, including the Akutagawa Prize for A Snake Stepped On and the Tanizaki Prize for Strange Weather in Tokyo."
Read Your Way Through Tokyo
...The novels and poetry included here serve as an introduction to various inhabitants depicted in Tokyo’s literature over the course of 400 years — from the 17th century, when Tokyo was still called Edo, to the present day. I hope these Tokyoites will reveal to you the many layers of the city and its past.
What might set the tone for my journey? Are there Japanese travelogues?
Matsuo Basho was born in the mid-17th century and spent his life as a wandering poet. Many of his journeys are collected in various travelogues, but “The Narrow Road to the Deep North” (also translated as “The Narrow Road to the Interior”), written toward the end of his life, remains beloved in Japan and has been translated into many languages.
The book is the record of a five-month, 1,500-mile journey on foot, which started in Edo and wound its way throughout the vast northern territories of the Tohoku and Hokuriku regions. Setting out from Senju, on the banks of the Sumida River, in present-day Sumida-ku, Basho composed this haiku: Departing spring, birds cry out, tears in the eyes of fishes.
In that era, travel could be hazardous. The poem connotes a scene in which even the birds and the fishes mourn the passing of spring, which is compounded by Basho’s lament that he doesn’t know whether he will die on this journey. Whenever I myself leave on a trip, I cannot help but think of this verse.
Detective stories and historical fiction often offer a keyhole glimpse into a city’s culture. What are your recommendations?
In 1868, Japan emerged from a long period of isolation and Edo was renamed Tokyo. “The Curious Casebook of Inspector Hanshichi,” by Kido Okamoto, is a series of detective stories told by a retired okappiki — a kind of non-samurai investigator — as he reflects on cases he solved. These Edo mysteries, from an era when there was no surveillance footage or forensics, move at a languorous pace and illustrate 19th-century customs and manners that were already obsolete in Okamoto’s Tokyo of the early 20th century.
From a modern perspective, the narrative structure, in which the historical character of Inspector Hanshichi looks back even further into the past, creates the impression of a set of nesting boxes. We may see ourselves as forming the outermost box in this arrangement, but soon enough we too will become part of the past and another box will form around us.
“The House of Nire,” by Morio Kita, follows three generations of a family, modeled after the author’s own; Kita’s father, Mokichi Saito (Morio Kita was a pen name), was a psychiatrist as well as a renowned tanka poet, and the author of the collection “Red Lights.” Spanning the start of the 20th century through the end of World War II, this period novel elucidates the mentality of Tokyo’s inhabitants. And what makes the book all the more intriguing — for me, at least — is knowing that the author Yukio Mishima (also born and raised in Tokyo) was himself enchanted by Momoko, one of the characters who appears in this humorous and eventful family drama, whom he found to be “a truly endearing young girl” and for whom he couldn’t help but hope for a happy ending.
Which classic authors should I read?
With the influx of Western thought and ideas in the newly open Tokyo in the late 19th century, intellectuals wrestled with the conflicts that arose between traditional Confucian ideologies and contemporary European spirituality. Natsume Soseki taught literature at the University of Tokyo after studying abroad in London, and, when he later became an author, he brilliantly sublimated those very conflicts in his novels. Such ideological tensions are not, however, outwardly apparent in his fantastical short stories, “Ten Nights’ Dreams.” Although these 10 absurd tales may seem immeasurably delirious, as if drawn from the depths of the unconscious, they possess timeless and universal qualities. And what vivid depictions of life in 19th-century Tokyo!
The author Kafu Nagai traveled to the United States and France, where he was profoundly immersed in Western thoughts and ideas. He began publishing fiction at the turn of the 20th century. In “A Strange Tale from East of the River” (also translated as “Something Strange Across the River”), the stage is Tokyo as it undergoes tremendous changes in the days leading up to World War II. The appeal of this work is its metafictional structure, which features a poignant relationship between a writer and a prostitute. Just when you think the story has ended, the author himself makes an appearance in order to relay various episodes from the ever-changing city as part of the plot. Here, too, a nesting-box narrative enables the reader to contemplate the passage of time.
Now, at last, we are nearing the layers that make up present-day Tokyo. After Japan’s defeat in World War II, the country again underwent drastic changes. The narrator of Kenzaburo Oe’s novel “Seventeen” is a young man who has assassinated a politician. The novel is a detailed portrayal of a young man who is adrift, descending into depression and being driven to terrorism. The story alludes to an event that occurred not long before it was published, in which the chairman of the Japan Socialist Party was stabbed to death by an ultranationalist at Tokyo’s Hibiya Public Hall. There were many protests and threats made against Oe himself after “Seventeen” was published, in a literary journal. Despite having been translated into various languages and published in numerous countries, the novel was only made available in Japan in book form four years ago — 57 years after it was written — when it was included in a collected edition of Oe’s complete works.
Any short fiction to read while on my trip, especially if I have jet lag and can’t sleep?
The short story “Final Moments,” from the 1961 collection “Toddler Hunting and Other Stories,” by Taeko Kono, is about a woman who suddenly learns that she will die the following day, and describes how she spends the hours after that realization. In spite of its terrible premise, the story is surprisingly tranquil and matter of fact. I have often heard people say that it is difficult to tell what a Japanese person is thinking, and this woman is no exception: She does not let her feelings show. Whenever I reread this story, I always marvel at how Kono chose to illustrate the workings of this woman’s mind with such audacious and sophisticated creativity.
The women who appear in the stories included in Kuniko Mukoda’s collection, “The Woman Next Door,” epitomize the values of the generation who came of age during World War II. Although Mukoda’s stories were written 20 years after Kono’s, somehow Mukoda’s women feel more remote. Nevertheless, Mukoda skillfully captures these Tokyo women who, nearing the end of the 20th century and at a time of economic prosperity in Japan, continue to struggle to improve their standing. They offer a testament to their quest for even the simplest of freedoms despite the societal oppression they faced.
Written at the turn of the last century, Haruki Murakami’s story “Super-Frog Saves Tokyo” takes place in Kabukicho, a red light district in Tokyo’s Shinjuku neighborhood, and is about how a frog saves the city from a massive earthquake. In January 1995, the Great Hanshin Earthquake occurred in western Japan, and, in March of the same year, the Tokyo subway sarin attack was perpetrated by members of the cult movement Aum Shinrikyo. Murakami’s story was inspired by these events and is included in “After the Quake,” a collection published five years later that addresses the sources of various problems facing Japan. These stories include connections to his subsequent best-selling novel, “1Q84” but, seen on their own, they demonstrate Murakami’s brilliance as a short story writer, and “After the Quake” is one of my favorite collections.
....
Read Your Way Through Tokyo
...The novels and poetry included here serve as an introduction to various inhabitants depicted in Tokyo’s literature over the course of 400 years — from the 17th century, when Tokyo was still called Edo, to the present day. I hope these Tokyoites will reveal to you the many layers of the city and its past.
What might set the tone for my journey? Are there Japanese travelogues?
Matsuo Basho was born in the mid-17th century and spent his life as a wandering poet. Many of his journeys are collected in various travelogues, but “The Narrow Road to the Deep North” (also translated as “The Narrow Road to the Interior”), written toward the end of his life, remains beloved in Japan and has been translated into many languages.
The book is the record of a five-month, 1,500-mile journey on foot, which started in Edo and wound its way throughout the vast northern territories of the Tohoku and Hokuriku regions. Setting out from Senju, on the banks of the Sumida River, in present-day Sumida-ku, Basho composed this haiku: Departing spring, birds cry out, tears in the eyes of fishes.
In that era, travel could be hazardous. The poem connotes a scene in which even the birds and the fishes mourn the passing of spring, which is compounded by Basho’s lament that he doesn’t know whether he will die on this journey. Whenever I myself leave on a trip, I cannot help but think of this verse.
Detective stories and historical fiction often offer a keyhole glimpse into a city’s culture. What are your recommendations?
In 1868, Japan emerged from a long period of isolation and Edo was renamed Tokyo. “The Curious Casebook of Inspector Hanshichi,” by Kido Okamoto, is a series of detective stories told by a retired okappiki — a kind of non-samurai investigator — as he reflects on cases he solved. These Edo mysteries, from an era when there was no surveillance footage or forensics, move at a languorous pace and illustrate 19th-century customs and manners that were already obsolete in Okamoto’s Tokyo of the early 20th century.
From a modern perspective, the narrative structure, in which the historical character of Inspector Hanshichi looks back even further into the past, creates the impression of a set of nesting boxes. We may see ourselves as forming the outermost box in this arrangement, but soon enough we too will become part of the past and another box will form around us.
“The House of Nire,” by Morio Kita, follows three generations of a family, modeled after the author’s own; Kita’s father, Mokichi Saito (Morio Kita was a pen name), was a psychiatrist as well as a renowned tanka poet, and the author of the collection “Red Lights.” Spanning the start of the 20th century through the end of World War II, this period novel elucidates the mentality of Tokyo’s inhabitants. And what makes the book all the more intriguing — for me, at least — is knowing that the author Yukio Mishima (also born and raised in Tokyo) was himself enchanted by Momoko, one of the characters who appears in this humorous and eventful family drama, whom he found to be “a truly endearing young girl” and for whom he couldn’t help but hope for a happy ending.
Which classic authors should I read?
With the influx of Western thought and ideas in the newly open Tokyo in the late 19th century, intellectuals wrestled with the conflicts that arose between traditional Confucian ideologies and contemporary European spirituality. Natsume Soseki taught literature at the University of Tokyo after studying abroad in London, and, when he later became an author, he brilliantly sublimated those very conflicts in his novels. Such ideological tensions are not, however, outwardly apparent in his fantastical short stories, “Ten Nights’ Dreams.” Although these 10 absurd tales may seem immeasurably delirious, as if drawn from the depths of the unconscious, they possess timeless and universal qualities. And what vivid depictions of life in 19th-century Tokyo!
The author Kafu Nagai traveled to the United States and France, where he was profoundly immersed in Western thoughts and ideas. He began publishing fiction at the turn of the 20th century. In “A Strange Tale from East of the River” (also translated as “Something Strange Across the River”), the stage is Tokyo as it undergoes tremendous changes in the days leading up to World War II. The appeal of this work is its metafictional structure, which features a poignant relationship between a writer and a prostitute. Just when you think the story has ended, the author himself makes an appearance in order to relay various episodes from the ever-changing city as part of the plot. Here, too, a nesting-box narrative enables the reader to contemplate the passage of time.
Now, at last, we are nearing the layers that make up present-day Tokyo. After Japan’s defeat in World War II, the country again underwent drastic changes. The narrator of Kenzaburo Oe’s novel “Seventeen” is a young man who has assassinated a politician. The novel is a detailed portrayal of a young man who is adrift, descending into depression and being driven to terrorism. The story alludes to an event that occurred not long before it was published, in which the chairman of the Japan Socialist Party was stabbed to death by an ultranationalist at Tokyo’s Hibiya Public Hall. There were many protests and threats made against Oe himself after “Seventeen” was published, in a literary journal. Despite having been translated into various languages and published in numerous countries, the novel was only made available in Japan in book form four years ago — 57 years after it was written — when it was included in a collected edition of Oe’s complete works.
Any short fiction to read while on my trip, especially if I have jet lag and can’t sleep?
The short story “Final Moments,” from the 1961 collection “Toddler Hunting and Other Stories,” by Taeko Kono, is about a woman who suddenly learns that she will die the following day, and describes how she spends the hours after that realization. In spite of its terrible premise, the story is surprisingly tranquil and matter of fact. I have often heard people say that it is difficult to tell what a Japanese person is thinking, and this woman is no exception: She does not let her feelings show. Whenever I reread this story, I always marvel at how Kono chose to illustrate the workings of this woman’s mind with such audacious and sophisticated creativity.
The women who appear in the stories included in Kuniko Mukoda’s collection, “The Woman Next Door,” epitomize the values of the generation who came of age during World War II. Although Mukoda’s stories were written 20 years after Kono’s, somehow Mukoda’s women feel more remote. Nevertheless, Mukoda skillfully captures these Tokyo women who, nearing the end of the 20th century and at a time of economic prosperity in Japan, continue to struggle to improve their standing. They offer a testament to their quest for even the simplest of freedoms despite the societal oppression they faced.
Written at the turn of the last century, Haruki Murakami’s story “Super-Frog Saves Tokyo” takes place in Kabukicho, a red light district in Tokyo’s Shinjuku neighborhood, and is about how a frog saves the city from a massive earthquake. In January 1995, the Great Hanshin Earthquake occurred in western Japan, and, in March of the same year, the Tokyo subway sarin attack was perpetrated by members of the cult movement Aum Shinrikyo. Murakami’s story was inspired by these events and is included in “After the Quake,” a collection published five years later that addresses the sources of various problems facing Japan. These stories include connections to his subsequent best-selling novel, “1Q84” but, seen on their own, they demonstrate Murakami’s brilliance as a short story writer, and “After the Quake” is one of my favorite collections.
....
Ben Jackson
Well-known member
Reading Japanese writers, I have felt that the country has tried in its Literary productions. I have read Mishima, Oe, Kawabata, Basho, Murakami, Ogawa. Extremely impressed with the first four. Basho is one of those poets that people need to read. I hope to read more Japanese classics in near future.
wordeater
Well-known member
Here's my top 12 of Japanese novels. I see Tanizaki as the main representative of classic Japanese literature, and Murakami as the one who rebelled against it.
- Haruki Murakami - The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (1997)
- Jun'ichirō Tanizaki - The Makioka Sisters (1948)
- Haruki Murakami - 1Q84 (2010)
- Haruki Murakami - Norwegian Wood (1987)
- Banana Yoshimoto - Kitchen (1988)
- Yukio Mishima - Confessions of a Mask (1949)
- Kenzaburō Ōe - A Personal Matter (1964)
- Murasaki Shikibu - The Tale of Genji (c.1020)
- Natsu Miyashita - A Forest of Wool and Steel (2016)
- Sayaka Murata - Convenience Store Person (2016)
- Natsume Sōseki - Kokoro (1914)
- Yasunari Kawabata - Snow Country (1948)