After reading The Temple of the Golden Pavilion I felt like I needed more of Mishima so this is where I randomly turned next. Unless you are into S&M or a homosexual you probably won’t fully appreciate the first half or so of this book. I found the last half of the book to be far more enjoyable myself. This is Mishima’s first major work, and in some ways it shows. I liked The Temple of the Golden Pavilion more, but I still found much of Confessions of a Mask to be interesting–fascinating even, and I have no regrets about reading the whole thing.

In fact, those two works weren’t enough for me so now I’m reading The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea which was much later than either of the above two books. Well, maybe not much later but Mishima’s career was so short that it was relatively much later given his brief life.

The setting for Confessions of a Mask is from pre-World War 2 through just after the war. Therefore, those interested in Japan during the war years from the Japanese, common-person perspective will at least like this account for that reason.

How much of this is autobiographical? I don’t know. You do see many similarities between the main character in this book and the main character in The Temple of the Golden Pavilion. Given Mishima’s later views you can certainly see his troubled, earlier mind in his early works. Mishima’s end should have been very predictable by those who read his works and considered them to be at least partially autobiographical. From his account here, his later militaristic views almost seem as if they could have partially been the result of guilt–guilt over avoiding service time in WW2.

In summary, if you plan to start reading Mishima, Confessions of a Mask is probably not the best place to start. Don’t skip it entirely though unless you are seriously homophobic and can’t stomach such thoughts.

Posted on November 11th, 2008 under Japan. Tags: book review, yukio mishima. Comments: None

Having visited kinkakuji last year, I had heard the story of the monk who burned down the prior version of the temple but not in any detail. Reading Donald Keene’s memoir got me interested in Mishima. The two interests combined finally got me to pick up a copy of the English translation of The Temple of the Golden Pavilion and read.

And what a curious read it turned out to be! The book is said to be historical fiction. I’ve read reviews that claim that Mishima did research and actually interviewed the arsonist so maybe it’s more historical than fiction. In any event, I became thoroughly engrossed in this book.

I won’t go into any plot lines here as you can read them elsewhere on the internet, and I don’t want to provide any major spoilers for those who haven’t read it yet.

As I read the book, I felt like there were some of Mishima’s autobiographical elements coming out in the arsonist’s character. For instance, Mishima has the arsonist say that living to an old age is a curse. (p. 128) He takes special care to emphasize physical limitations (something Mishima, himself, seemed obsessed with). And the thought of suicide is rather glorious to Mishima’s mentally unstable arsonist. Mishima worked tirelessly to become a physical specimen (through body building), thought old age was not a good thing, and committed suicide at a relatively young age.

I thought the story line near the end sounded strangely like Mark David Chapman and his preparations to murder John Lennon. Mark Chapman identified with Holden Caulfield in The Catcher in the Rye. Holden Caulfield is not too unlike Mishima or the arsonist in The Temple of the Golden Pavilion. The Catcher in the Rye deals with adolescent aimlessness, a dissatisfaction with everything, being disgusted with the phoniness people, themes of anxiety over sex, the feeling that everything is soiled, and lost innocence–all items touched on in this work of Mishima’s.

Both the arsonist and Chapman went to prostitutes and spent the last of their money before committing their crimes. Both affiliated with a book. For Chapman it was The Catcher in the Rye. For the arsonist in The Temple of the Golden Pavilion it was Crime and Punishment. The similarities seemed so eerie that I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Chapman had also read Mishima’s book.

I give this work two thumbs up and highly recommend it–especially if you have been to Kyoto.

Posted on November 2nd, 2008 under Japan. Tags: book review, yukio mishima, 金閣寺. Comments: None

Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata (川端康成) is considered a classic of Japanese literature. I became interested in reading it after reading Donald Keene’s memoir which mentioned Kawabata’s suicide and Nobel Prize.

I was a bit surprised Snow Country wasn’t required reading in BYU’s Japanese program I went through. However, given that the book deals with Onsen Geisha and the consuming of adult beverages and BYU censors what their students read, it isn’t too surprising that we were left reading Christian Japanese authors like Shusaku Endo instead.

As I started reading this book I read about 10 pages in English and then the same 10 pages in Japanese. This proved very interesting. Eventually I read it all in English and only certain passages that seemed strange in English in Japanese as well. Not that the translator, Edward G. Seidensticker, did a poor job, but some things just don’t come across as well in English. For instance, in Japanese you can clearly tell who is speaking in the male-female dialogues as females speak differently than males in Japanese (ending sentences with wa, kashira, etc.) In English, Seidensticker doesn’t add “he said” or “she said” at the end of the quotes since that isn’t what it says in Japanese; nor is it necessary in Japanese to figure out who is saying what. However, it can be tricky, or at least unclear, to figure out just who is saying what at times in the English translation.

Also, with respect to the translated version, the writing doesn’t seem very smooth. The Japanese has a better flow. Again, this isn’t really Seidensticker’s fault. I’m not saying I could do a better translation. Rather, some things really need to be read in their original tongue to be fully appreciated.

I don’t imagine the English version of this book is for everyone. In fact, most people who read the English translation will probably say, “He won the Nobel Prize for Literature for that??” But if you enjoy highly symbolic writings, have had experiences with a Japanese girlfriend who left you puzzled, or wish to reflect on experiences you may have had in Japan then Snow Country is certainly worth a quick read (and quick it is at well under 200 pages).

Assuming you are reading the English translation by Edward G. Seidensticker be sure to read the Introduction after you read the book as he packs his Introduction with spoilers for some unknown reason.

Posted on October 5th, 2008 under Japan. Tags: book review, books, geisha. Comments: 1

I have been reading Chronicles of My Life: An American in the Heart of Japan for the past couple weeks with my son. Last night we read an illuminating passage that I thought I’d share. From page 124…

“I went to the Kitano Tenmangu, where the plum blossoms were first opening. Although I knew from many poems how much the fragrance of plum blossoms was appreciated by innumerable generations of Japanese, I had never really been aware of any special fragrance even when I stood directly under a plum tree in bloom. Obviously, my sense of smell was deficient. This time, in order to savor fully the most typical fragrance of Japan, I pressed my head against the blossoms… Only then did I manage to catch a whiff of the celebrated scent. I suppose that people who have grown up in the West think of the scent of flowers in terms of the strong perfume of the rose or the carnation, and it takes some effort to catch the delicate fragrance of plum blossoms, but it was natural for the Japanese to praise this elusive fragrance rather than the heavy scent of the lily. The Japanese of the past (and probably of the present too) found strong fragrances cloying and prized instead the clean but almost imperceptible perfume of plum blossoms, just as they preferred faint coloring to bright primary colors in paintings or avoided strong flavors in Japanese cuisine. This moment of recognition brought pleasure.”

Posted on September 12th, 2008 under Japan. Tags: book review, Japan. Comments: None

Three books on Japan just arrived in my mailbox from Columbia University Press. They are: Yasukuni, the War Dead and the Struggle for Japan’s Past by John Breen, Troubled Apologies Among Japan, Korea, and the United States by Alexis Dudden, and Chronicles of My Life: An American in the Heart of Japan by Donald Keene.

Since we will be in the air on our way to Denmark a week from now these will have to wait until our return in August. I hope to have reviews posted here on each in August and/or September.

For the trip I plan to take Philip K. Dick: Five Novels of the 1960s & 70s. Why? Because last summer I read Four Novels of the 1960s on my trip to Chicago, and I have fond memories of the readings coupled with my time in Chicago. Plus, Five Novels is much longer than the three titles on Japan so it should keep me busy longer. I don’t really want to carry around multiple books.

Do you have any books that you have read that are forever linked in your brain with a trip or vacation?

I certainly do. For instance, I can’t think of Neil Young’s biography without thinking of my trip to Canada last fall or vice versa. Ditto with a trip to Hawaii and Origins Reconsidered: In Search of What Makes Us Human and probably a dozen or more other trips/books read on the trip.

Posted on June 17th, 2008 under Japan. Tags: book review, books. Comments: 3

Less than a week after starting The Street of a Thousand Blossoms by Gail Tsukiyama I have finished reading it. The book isn’t short at over 400 pages, but I found it hard to put down. That, coupled with having to wait for breakfast in bed on father’s day for three hours , allowed me to finish The Street of a Thousand Blossoms in little time.

As mentioned in my prior blog entry on the subject, I really enjoyed the Yanaka setting. I felt like I could connect with more than just Yanaka though. For instance, I spent a day in the late 80s watching Sumo at Ryogoku Kokugikan. The highlight of the day was witnessing the great Chiyonofuji’s bout in person. So all of the Sumo dialogue in this book brought back pleasant memories. I’ve always been fascinated with Japanese masks (check out this blog daily for some outstanding photography and discussion) so Kenji’s story held my interest. And, of course, there is the trip to Hakone which I have also made. Basically everything felt familiar and resonated well.

The story is compelling, drawing on the themes of renewal and hope. I don’t want to give away too many details for those of you who haven’t yet read The Street of a Thousand Blossoms.

The occasional errors in Japanese are my main criticism. Although Tsukiyama has a Japanese name, she doesn’t understand Japanese. This won’t be noticed by readers who are in her same shoes, but those who can speak the language will cringe at times. One example is her use of hai. She uses it far more frequently and in situations in which Japanese would not. Another is her use of the unconjugated verb hairu (to enter) as a command. She should have said something like haitte kudasai or o hairi kudasai instead of just hairu. A final one (there are others) that I’ll offer as an example is the Hakone Lake which she calls Ashino. In English it should be called Lake Ashi. In Japanese it is called ashinoko (芦ノ湖). The “no” indicates it is the Lake (ko) called (no–shows possession like ’s in English) Ashi. Put another way, one could translate Lake Tahoe as “tahoe no ko” in Japanese but you would never call it “tahoeno” in English or Japanese.

She gets Japanese culture and customs wrong on some counts as well. For example, she has the school year starting in September like it does in the U.S. In Japan, though, school years, company fiscal years, etc. start in April–not September.

These minor critiques aside, this book is very enjoyable even if you haven’t been to Yanaka, Sumo, Hakone, Nara, or even Japan.

Here are a couple more pictures I took last year from areas mentioned in The Street of a Thousand Blossoms.

This is Lake Ashi with Mt. Fuji, mostly shrouded in clouds, in the background. The place on the right may be where Tsukiyama envisions Hiroshi and Aki staying.

This is another picture from the ferry on Lake Ashi. The kanji say 箱根神社 or Hakone Jinja. “Jinja” means Shinto Shrine or Temple.

Posted on June 16th, 2008 under Japan. Tags: book review, books, critic, hakone, Japan, japan pictures, novel, pictures, shinto, torii. Comments: None