jola_g's review
4.0
FROM HEALTHY SLUMBER TO TYPHOON
'When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise, and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused.'
Rainer Maria Rilke
My city, Lublin, is situated more than six hundred kilometres from the sea but thanks to Yukio Mishima and The Sound of Waves (1954) I could absorb it with all my senses. Not only imagine it but almost feel the salty taste on my tongue and the sea breeze on my face. Not just the sound of waves, as the title suggests, but also their view, scent, flavour and gentle touch. I read this novel last spring when no travelling was possible because of the pandemic, so I owe a lot to the author.
I am also grateful for the delight I felt while reading this book. Mishima’s prose is so unbelievably clear, precise and light. So light that you have the impression you are not reading but breathing it in. I loved its cool freshness. It is also vividly visual: no wonder the novel has been adapted for film five times.
David Burliuk, Japanese Fisherman, 1921.
The thing that surprised me the most, as I was aware of the author’s suicide at the age of forty-five, was the uplifting, idealistic optimism I found in this book, which turned out to be perfect for the stressful time. Mishima’s serene and elegant prose was like a soothing balm. By the way, there was an extract on suicide, deploring it unequivocally: 'Double suicide then? Even on this island there had been lovers who took that solution. But the boy’s good sense repudiated the thought, and he told himself that those others had been selfish persons who thought only of themselves. Never once had he thought about such a thing as dying; and, above all, there was his family to support.' What a pity the thought turned out to be impossible to repudiate by the author in 1970.
Another aspect that truly amazed me was the seemingly effortless simplicity of The Sound of Waves and the minimalistic discipline. The Vintage Classics cover, which I fell in love with at first sight, gives you an idea of what to expect. I also liked the tiny drawings at the beginning of each chapter.
The novel resembles a folk tale, structured according to a typical love story pattern: a handsome boy, Shinji, who is a fisherman, meets a beautiful girl, Hatsue, a pearl fisher. They fall in love and then bravely face some obstacles which make them prove that they deserve each other. Shinji and Hatsue's respect for social traditions and the moral code, their courage and determination turned out to be the key to success.
Shotei Takahashi, Awabi Pearl Fisher, 1931.
The predictability of Yukio Mishima’s novel made me think of the thesis of Vladimir Propp, a Russian scholar, that all folk tales are built on the basis of a homogeneous pattern. On the material of 100 stories with different plots, he distinguished the components of the folk tale and created a classification based on function. You will find some of them in The Sound of Waves, albeit Mishima’s novel is purely realistic, there are no magic elements there.
Mishima deals with universal truths but the novel is set in very concrete time and place: in contemporary Japan, on a tiny island called Uta-jima - Song Island (the inspiration was a real island, Kami-shima) in Ise Bay. I enjoyed the local colour, the descriptions of the villagers, their homes, customs, clothes, food, relationships. The existence of Shinji and Hatsue, their families and friends, is based on the sea. It feeds the villagers, gives them almost everything they need: not only work but also aesthetic pleasure. No wonder in some languages, for example in Italian, there is only one letter difference between the words ‘sea’ (mare) and ‘mother’ (madre). 'The sea—it only brings the good and right things that the island needs … and keeps the good and right things we already have here.'
In spite of appearances, the life on Uta-jima is not carefree: history stretched its claws to this remote place also: Shinji’s father was killed during the World War II like many other local men, people struggle with poverty, worry about the disturbing news of the war in Korea.
Kami-shima. [Source]
Although the plot steadily follows the classic love story plot pattern, the dynamics of the novel is based on the sea, the way the waves change: from placid and undisturbed, regular and peaceful 'as though the sea were breathing in healthy slumber' to stormy ones, typhoon included. They are like an accompaniment to the characters’ emotions and desires: 'The boy felt a consummate accord between himself and this opulence of nature that surrounded him. He inhaled deeply, and it was as though a part of the unseen something that constitutes nature had permeated the core of his being. He heard the sound of the waves striking the shore, and it was as though the surging of his young blood was keeping time with the movement of the sea’s great tides.' The waves may also symbolize the passing of time and transience of our yearnings.
Despite the foreseeability of the plot, another problem that bothered me was the explicit, clear-cut moral of the story, given on a tray, highlighted by Terukichi's explanation. Frankly speaking, I prefer to be given more independence by the author. It seems to me that a pinch of ambiguity would have made this novel even better.
The Sound of Waves truly mesmerized me and after having read the last sentence I felt like telling the author 'see you soon', not 'goodbye'. I already know that this novel is not typical for Yukio Mishima but I just can’t wait to explore his other works. And I have a strong feeling that the best is yet to come...
Torii Kotondo , Combing the Hair, 1933.
'When anxious, uneasy and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise, and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused.'
Rainer Maria Rilke
My city, Lublin, is situated more than six hundred kilometres from the sea but thanks to Yukio Mishima and The Sound of Waves (1954) I could absorb it with all my senses. Not only imagine it but almost feel the salty taste on my tongue and the sea breeze on my face. Not just the sound of waves, as the title suggests, but also their view, scent, flavour and gentle touch. I read this novel last spring when no travelling was possible because of the pandemic, so I owe a lot to the author.
I am also grateful for the delight I felt while reading this book. Mishima’s prose is so unbelievably clear, precise and light. So light that you have the impression you are not reading but breathing it in. I loved its cool freshness. It is also vividly visual: no wonder the novel has been adapted for film five times.
David Burliuk, Japanese Fisherman, 1921.
The thing that surprised me the most, as I was aware of the author’s suicide at the age of forty-five, was the uplifting, idealistic optimism I found in this book, which turned out to be perfect for the stressful time. Mishima’s serene and elegant prose was like a soothing balm. By the way, there was an extract on suicide, deploring it unequivocally: 'Double suicide then? Even on this island there had been lovers who took that solution. But the boy’s good sense repudiated the thought, and he told himself that those others had been selfish persons who thought only of themselves. Never once had he thought about such a thing as dying; and, above all, there was his family to support.' What a pity the thought turned out to be impossible to repudiate by the author in 1970.
Another aspect that truly amazed me was the seemingly effortless simplicity of The Sound of Waves and the minimalistic discipline. The Vintage Classics cover, which I fell in love with at first sight, gives you an idea of what to expect. I also liked the tiny drawings at the beginning of each chapter.
The novel resembles a folk tale, structured according to a typical love story pattern: a handsome boy, Shinji, who is a fisherman, meets a beautiful girl, Hatsue, a pearl fisher. They fall in love and then bravely face some obstacles which make them prove that they deserve each other. Shinji and Hatsue's respect for social traditions and the moral code, their courage and determination turned out to be the key to success.
Shotei Takahashi, Awabi Pearl Fisher, 1931.
The predictability of Yukio Mishima’s novel made me think of the thesis of Vladimir Propp, a Russian scholar, that all folk tales are built on the basis of a homogeneous pattern. On the material of 100 stories with different plots, he distinguished the components of the folk tale and created a classification based on function. You will find some of them in The Sound of Waves, albeit Mishima’s novel is purely realistic, there are no magic elements there.
Mishima deals with universal truths but the novel is set in very concrete time and place: in contemporary Japan, on a tiny island called Uta-jima - Song Island (the inspiration was a real island, Kami-shima) in Ise Bay. I enjoyed the local colour, the descriptions of the villagers, their homes, customs, clothes, food, relationships. The existence of Shinji and Hatsue, their families and friends, is based on the sea. It feeds the villagers, gives them almost everything they need: not only work but also aesthetic pleasure. No wonder in some languages, for example in Italian, there is only one letter difference between the words ‘sea’ (mare) and ‘mother’ (madre). 'The sea—it only brings the good and right things that the island needs … and keeps the good and right things we already have here.'
In spite of appearances, the life on Uta-jima is not carefree: history stretched its claws to this remote place also: Shinji’s father was killed during the World War II like many other local men, people struggle with poverty, worry about the disturbing news of the war in Korea.
Kami-shima. [Source]
Although the plot steadily follows the classic love story plot pattern, the dynamics of the novel is based on the sea, the way the waves change: from placid and undisturbed, regular and peaceful 'as though the sea were breathing in healthy slumber' to stormy ones, typhoon included. They are like an accompaniment to the characters’ emotions and desires: 'The boy felt a consummate accord between himself and this opulence of nature that surrounded him. He inhaled deeply, and it was as though a part of the unseen something that constitutes nature had permeated the core of his being. He heard the sound of the waves striking the shore, and it was as though the surging of his young blood was keeping time with the movement of the sea’s great tides.' The waves may also symbolize the passing of time and transience of our yearnings.
Despite the foreseeability of the plot, another problem that bothered me was the explicit, clear-cut moral of the story, given on a tray, highlighted by Terukichi's explanation. Frankly speaking, I prefer to be given more independence by the author. It seems to me that a pinch of ambiguity would have made this novel even better.
The Sound of Waves truly mesmerized me and after having read the last sentence I felt like telling the author 'see you soon', not 'goodbye'. I already know that this novel is not typical for Yukio Mishima but I just can’t wait to explore his other works. And I have a strong feeling that the best is yet to come...
Torii Kotondo , Combing the Hair, 1933.
4str0's review against another edition
hopeful
lighthearted
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
è una storia leggera immersa in un’atmosfera da fiaba, dove l’isolamento e l’arretratezza tecnologica dell’isola contribuiscono a creare la magia del racconto
emsemsems's review against another edition
4.0
‘At this moment the storm suddenly planted its feet wide and firmly outside the windows. All along, the wind and rain had been raging madly around the ruins with the same force as now, but in this instant the boy and girl realized the certainty of the storm’s existence, realized that directly beneath the high windows the wide Pacific was shaking with everlasting frenzy.’
As good as a romantic, coming-of-age story gets. Often deliciously eccentric despite the old-fashioned, run-of-the-mill love-story at its core. A solid 4 and a ½ star. So brilliantly composed that I’m sure it would have made Shakespeare cower like a cocker spaniel on a stormy day (Romeo & Juliet is embarrassingly weak compared to Mishima’s novel). Mishima’s play with a simple, overused plot done much too well – beautiful in every way. Stunning characterisation as usual; I’d go as far as to say that Mishima’s too good at this. His astonishingly androgynous insight of his characters’ psyche/inner lives is extraordinary, and surely a very admirable feat. Full of brilliant subplots – sublime seaside landscapes and shrines. I especially love the brief sequence of the women-divers basking in the sunshine talking about tits as if they were humble plums; and then competitively collect abalone from the seabed/ocean floors. I don’t know much about the Japanese tradition of such activities, but it certainly reminded me of ‘haenyo’ (sea women), the women-divers of Jeju in South Korea. It was a very endearing and enchanting chapter, and I was fully mesmerised by it.
‘The sand held in the arms of these crags was pure white. Atop the cliff facing the sea to the left the flowers called beach-cotton were in full bloom; their blossoms were not those of the season’s end, looking like disheveled sleepers, but were vividly white petals, sensuous and leek-like, brandished against the cobalt sky.’
‘The mother knew nothing about cooking. She served their fish either in raw slices—sometimes vinegared—or else simply grilled or boiled—head, tail, bones, and all. And as she never washed the fish properly, they often found their teeth chewing on sand and grit as well as fish. Shinji waited hopefully during their meal for his mother to say something about the strange girl. But if his mother was not one for complaining, neither was she given to idle gossip.’
A feel-good novel for sure, even though I’m not so sure about the concluding lines of the novel. Call me anal and whatnots but those were the reason why I retracted half a star from my rating of the book. Also, I’m not surprised about this being one of his earlier novels. You’ll know why I’d say such a thing if you’ve read a bunch of Mishimas. Regardless, still a terrifically well-written one. I absolutely love the setting of the novel – how vibrant and alive Mishima had made ‘nature’ look in the novel is just glorious. I seriously do think that every novel he’s written (or at least the ones I’ve been lucky enough to read) is some kind of grand homage to ‘nature’. No one (except perhaps Virginia Woolf) can ever do/have ever done ‘nature’ so respectfully and gloriously as Mishima can/did.
‘The flatheads fell to the blood-smeared deck, their white bellies gleaming. The black, wet bodies of the soles, their little eyes sunk deep in folds of wrinkles, reflected the blue of the sky.
Lunchtime came. Jukichi dressed the flatheads on the engine-room hatch and cut them into slices. They divided the raw slices onto the lids of their aluminum lunchboxes and poured soy sauce over them from a small bottle. Then they took up the boxes, filled with a mixture of boiled rice and barley and, stuffed into one corner, a few slices of pickled radish. The boat they entrusted to the gentle swell.’
Personally, I found the translation slightly unsatisfactory, but it wasn’t so displeasing that I had to stop reading the novel. I think the translator, Weatherby had tried too hard to mimic the Japanese syntax/grammar, and/but that doesn’t translate well in English. It made it all seem a bit jumbled and disconcerting/off-putting. I had to read a few sentences several times to fully ‘get’ the gist of that that was being conveyed. Some of the translation issues were dialogue-based, and some were of descriptive writing. The odd, inconsistently formed dialogues were less of an issue (because of my basic fluency of conversational Japanese I could instantly clock what Weatherby was trying to achieve/do; to be more specific – I did an automatic reverse-translation in my mind and ‘understood’ the text in Japanese), but the longer, more descriptive sentences bothered me because it disrupted the flow of the novel. A less of a mess, and fuller RTC.
‘Double suicide then? Even on this island there had been lovers who took that solution. But the boy’s good sense repudiated the thought, and he told himself that those others had been selfish persons who thought only of themselves. Never once had he thought about such a thing as dying; and, above all, there was his family to support.’
“The sea, ebbing and flowing in the shaft at the eastern end of the cave, roared fiercely as it dashed against the rocks. The sound of the surging waves was completely different from that to which they were accustomed outside. It was a seething sound that echoed off the limestone walls of the cavern, the reverberations overlapping each other until the entire cave was aroar and seemed to be pitching and swaying. Shudderingly they recalled the legend that between the sixteenth and eighteenth days of the sixth moon seven pure-white sharks were supposed to appear out of nowhere within that shaft to the sea.”
‘The villagers listened spellbound to the mistress’s eloquence, some of them comparing her unfavourably with their own taciturn women and feeling a meddlesome sort of sympathy for the lighthouse-keeper. But he himself had great respect for his wife’s learning.’
‘The night sky was filled with stars and, as for clouds, there was only a low bank stretching across the horizon in the direction of the Chita Peninsula, through which soundless lightning ran from time to time. Nor was the sound of the waves strong, but coming regularly and peacefully, as though the sea were breathing in healthy slumber.’
zenarcade's review against another edition
4.0
Simpler and sweeter than the Mishima I'm used to. Less death and weird erotic imagery. Kind of refreshing after finishing the Sea of Fertility recently.
teles's review
hopeful
lighthearted
relaxing
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.5
mattyyreadsbooks's review
emotional
hopeful
lighthearted
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
blobmoz's review
adventurous
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
This book was incredible. In my top books of all time for sure. The setting was absolutely gorgeous and profusely detailed in ways that made me feel like I was really there. Setting for me makes up a huge part of a book so I just got to fully immerse myself in this. The characters were great and compelling, even the story of Shinji's little brother was exciting to follow. Just everything about this book was so captivating. I haven't read much Mishima but for me this is easily his best work. I absolutely adore this work.