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Available
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Collection
Publication
Wideview Perigee (1970), Edition: 3rd, Paperback, 223 pages
Description
" ... in his portrait of an elderly Tokyo businessman, Yasunari Kawabata charts the gradual, reluctant narrowing of a human life, along with the sudden upsurges of passion that illumunate its closing. By day, Ogata Shingo is troubled by small failures of memory. At night he hears a distant rumble from the nearby mountain, a sound he associates with death. In between are the relationships that were once the foundations of Shingo's life: with his disappointing wife, his philandering son, and his daughter-in-law Kikuko, who instills in him both pity and uneasy stirrings of sexual desire."--Publisher description.
Media reviews
The New York Times Book Review
"A rich, complicated novel.... Of all modern Japanese fiction, Kawabata's is the closest to poetry."
User reviews
LibraryThing member John
Yasunari Kawabata: The Sound of the Mountain
It took a little while to get into this book. The writing style is spare and taut in the extreme with only short, declaratory sentences. The story is told through the eyes of Shingo Okata, a man in his early sixties, living in Kamakura but still working
The interior thoughts we hear are only those of Shingo and we see all the others through their interaction with Shingo and through his interpretation of their actions and supposed thoughts. There is no plot driving the novel forward. This is an account of "riding the wave of life", and herein lies the attraction that grew on me as I read.
Shingo is increasingly aware of the wing-beat of mortality with many of this friends dying, and his own signs of faltering physical and mental strength (his friends refer to themselves as "life's spare parts.") This pushes him inward to reflect on his life and especially, after forty years, the love he did not achieve with Yasuko's older sister whom he keeps alive in thoughts and perceived connections. What Shingo doesn't realise is that his obsession has made him less open to love, and so has constricted his life with Yasuko and, more seriously, affected his relations with Shuichi and Fusako. Shingo is pained by Shuichi's drinking, dissolute lifestyle, mistress, and shabby treatment of his wife, but there is no connection between the two men that allows Shingo to speak openly and to try to bring Shuichi back a more honourable path. Shingo's relationship with Fusako is even more fraught with deep-rooted anger based on Shingo never having been easy with her as a child, making it clear that he thought her unattractive (in his mind, how much prettier she would have been if he had married the older sister). This bites deep as Fusako blames him for having married her off to a loser such as Aihara, happy to have her out of the house, without proper vetting of the bridegroom. It is not said, explicitly, but you know that Yasuko is aware of Shingo's continued fascination with her deceased sister. In one moment of lucidity, Shingo realises, towards the end of the story, that, "he had contributed to no one's happiness."
Shingo's warmest, most human relationship is with his beautiful daughter-in-law, Kikuko who lives with Shuichi in Shingo and Yasuko's house. The novel is set in post-war Japan, but the practice of a bride moving into the home of her husband's family is still prevalent, if not now universal. Kikuko is lucky in that she has a close, respectful, even loving relationship with her in-laws, a far cry from the situation often portrayed in Japanese literature (see The Doctor's Wife). There are hints, including on the book blurb, of stirrings of desire from Shingo directed towards Kikuko. I don't think the story supports this. What Shingo exhibits is memories of desire, not desire to act. Shingo does have an eye for an attractive woman and he (or Kawabata?) does comment often on breasts; mention is made more than once of Eiko's quite small breasts, as opposed to Fusako's full and firm breasts as she feeds her youngest child, and when he meets Shuichi's mistress, her description includes how, "her rich breasts rose and fell." However, when Shingo dreams of an unnamed woman he vaguely recognizes, he feels, "neither excitement nor feelings of guilt" in touching her breasts in his dream. This is not a man burning to satisfying a desire. Kikuko is caring, compliant, and comfortable with Shingo, all the things he does not have with his immediate family members; this and her beauty, which stirs again memories of the deceased sister, are the bases for Shingo's feelings for Kikuko.
At one point, Shingo, "was astonished at his son's spiritual paralysis and decay, but it seemed to him that he was caught in the same filthy slough. Dark terror swept over him." There has to be different definitions of "slough" when looking at the two men. Unlike Shuichi, we do not see Shingo with a mistress, we do not see him dishonouring his wife, we do not see him abusive and drunk. We see that he has been a poor father, especially to Fusako, and not as loving a husband as he might have been, and someone stuck unhealthily in the past of things that never were, but these are far from a comparable spiritual decay.
Kawabata makes full use of nature as a metaphor for life. There are many references to the transitions of colours and shapes through the seasons from birth through life to death. Japan is a country that reveres flowers, trees, gardens and their role in appreciating life and its transience. It is also a country that has made art forms of arranging and controlling flowers in ikebana, and more forcefully, contorting and directing the growth of trees through bonsai. These practices of admiring natural occurrences while also controlling and directing nature's presentation, are two sides of the same coin; done properly, they can heighten awareness and pleasure and even complement each other, but they can have more negative effects. At one point, Shingo is, "deeply moved by the form [a] tree had taken in free and natural growth." It is precisely this "free and natural growth" that Shingo denied his children and himself by holding onto dreams and fantasies that only made him unhappy through comparisons with his life, throughout his life.
At the end of the novel there are hints of better futures, but nothing is resolved, and this is as it should be for this story of life and lives.
In the end, I appreciated the novel for its realistic portrait of lives and love and family, and for the reminder that regardless of the societal setting, the kaleidoscope of human interactions is universal.
It took a little while to get into this book. The writing style is spare and taut in the extreme with only short, declaratory sentences. The story is told through the eyes of Shingo Okata, a man in his early sixties, living in Kamakura but still working
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in his own small business in Tokyo, with his son Shuichi. The main characters in the novel are all family: Shingo's wife, Yasuko, Shuichi, their daughter Fusako and her two small children, Shuichi's wife, Kikuko; Fusako is married to Aihara but he never appears on centre stage as they are separated. Secondary characters include Eiko, for a time a secretary who works with Shingo and Shuichi, and Kino, Shuichi's mistress, the fact of whom is well-known to the whole family. The interior thoughts we hear are only those of Shingo and we see all the others through their interaction with Shingo and through his interpretation of their actions and supposed thoughts. There is no plot driving the novel forward. This is an account of "riding the wave of life", and herein lies the attraction that grew on me as I read.
Shingo is increasingly aware of the wing-beat of mortality with many of this friends dying, and his own signs of faltering physical and mental strength (his friends refer to themselves as "life's spare parts.") This pushes him inward to reflect on his life and especially, after forty years, the love he did not achieve with Yasuko's older sister whom he keeps alive in thoughts and perceived connections. What Shingo doesn't realise is that his obsession has made him less open to love, and so has constricted his life with Yasuko and, more seriously, affected his relations with Shuichi and Fusako. Shingo is pained by Shuichi's drinking, dissolute lifestyle, mistress, and shabby treatment of his wife, but there is no connection between the two men that allows Shingo to speak openly and to try to bring Shuichi back a more honourable path. Shingo's relationship with Fusako is even more fraught with deep-rooted anger based on Shingo never having been easy with her as a child, making it clear that he thought her unattractive (in his mind, how much prettier she would have been if he had married the older sister). This bites deep as Fusako blames him for having married her off to a loser such as Aihara, happy to have her out of the house, without proper vetting of the bridegroom. It is not said, explicitly, but you know that Yasuko is aware of Shingo's continued fascination with her deceased sister. In one moment of lucidity, Shingo realises, towards the end of the story, that, "he had contributed to no one's happiness."
Shingo's warmest, most human relationship is with his beautiful daughter-in-law, Kikuko who lives with Shuichi in Shingo and Yasuko's house. The novel is set in post-war Japan, but the practice of a bride moving into the home of her husband's family is still prevalent, if not now universal. Kikuko is lucky in that she has a close, respectful, even loving relationship with her in-laws, a far cry from the situation often portrayed in Japanese literature (see The Doctor's Wife). There are hints, including on the book blurb, of stirrings of desire from Shingo directed towards Kikuko. I don't think the story supports this. What Shingo exhibits is memories of desire, not desire to act. Shingo does have an eye for an attractive woman and he (or Kawabata?) does comment often on breasts; mention is made more than once of Eiko's quite small breasts, as opposed to Fusako's full and firm breasts as she feeds her youngest child, and when he meets Shuichi's mistress, her description includes how, "her rich breasts rose and fell." However, when Shingo dreams of an unnamed woman he vaguely recognizes, he feels, "neither excitement nor feelings of guilt" in touching her breasts in his dream. This is not a man burning to satisfying a desire. Kikuko is caring, compliant, and comfortable with Shingo, all the things he does not have with his immediate family members; this and her beauty, which stirs again memories of the deceased sister, are the bases for Shingo's feelings for Kikuko.
At one point, Shingo, "was astonished at his son's spiritual paralysis and decay, but it seemed to him that he was caught in the same filthy slough. Dark terror swept over him." There has to be different definitions of "slough" when looking at the two men. Unlike Shuichi, we do not see Shingo with a mistress, we do not see him dishonouring his wife, we do not see him abusive and drunk. We see that he has been a poor father, especially to Fusako, and not as loving a husband as he might have been, and someone stuck unhealthily in the past of things that never were, but these are far from a comparable spiritual decay.
Kawabata makes full use of nature as a metaphor for life. There are many references to the transitions of colours and shapes through the seasons from birth through life to death. Japan is a country that reveres flowers, trees, gardens and their role in appreciating life and its transience. It is also a country that has made art forms of arranging and controlling flowers in ikebana, and more forcefully, contorting and directing the growth of trees through bonsai. These practices of admiring natural occurrences while also controlling and directing nature's presentation, are two sides of the same coin; done properly, they can heighten awareness and pleasure and even complement each other, but they can have more negative effects. At one point, Shingo is, "deeply moved by the form [a] tree had taken in free and natural growth." It is precisely this "free and natural growth" that Shingo denied his children and himself by holding onto dreams and fantasies that only made him unhappy through comparisons with his life, throughout his life.
At the end of the novel there are hints of better futures, but nothing is resolved, and this is as it should be for this story of life and lives.
In the end, I appreciated the novel for its realistic portrait of lives and love and family, and for the reminder that regardless of the societal setting, the kaleidoscope of human interactions is universal.
Show Less
LibraryThing member SqueakyChu
This is a very softly-paced novel about Ogata Shingo, an elderly man (not that elderly, though!), who very quietly deals with his increasing forgetfulness and family problems. He lives with his wife Yasuko, his son Shuitsi, daughter-in-law Kikuko, and later his daughter Fukaso who returns to her
The biggest issue in the family is that Shuitsi is having an affair with a woman who works at the same office as Shingo and Shuitsi. In dealing with this problem, we see day-to-day life carried out in a very typical Japanese way. The wife tends to be obedient, no one wants to lose face, and problems are worked on so as to be least disturbing.
The writing of Kawabata is lyrical and gentle. It takes in much geography, flora, and customs of Japan. There is no harsh melodrama in this story, but it has a pull of its own which leaves the reader at the end as gently as it grabs the reader from the beginning.
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parent's home with two daughters of her own. The biggest issue in the family is that Shuitsi is having an affair with a woman who works at the same office as Shingo and Shuitsi. In dealing with this problem, we see day-to-day life carried out in a very typical Japanese way. The wife tends to be obedient, no one wants to lose face, and problems are worked on so as to be least disturbing.
The writing of Kawabata is lyrical and gentle. It takes in much geography, flora, and customs of Japan. There is no harsh melodrama in this story, but it has a pull of its own which leaves the reader at the end as gently as it grabs the reader from the beginning.
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LibraryThing member daniel.links
Excellent book. Kawabata's books all have this slow pace, and the elder male character struggling to keep up with fairly everyday events also seems a stock in trade, and yet these books are oddly intense and utterly compelling.
LibraryThing member soylentgreen23
Sometimes you wonder why somebody was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. Not in Kawabata's case. He was a genius of understatement, and this book something of a masterwork.
LibraryThing member Steve38
A domestic tale from 1950s Japan. Nothing dramatic, nothing sensational. Everything more or less routine. No plot to follow, no twists to uncurl. Written in precise language, not aided by some odd translators quirks, it brings into focus family life and family concerns. An ageing husband, an
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adulterous son, a divorcing daughter. But peace is gained by looking inwards refreshed by the view from the garden or a walk in the park. And it introduced me to a fascinating piece of Japanese furniture. The kotatsu. Show Less
LibraryThing member RBeffa
This is the third novel I have read by Kawabata and I find his novels to be both simple and beautiful. I find Japanese literature to be interesting in general, but Kawabata's stories especially so. He has such a gentle pace to them. This is one of those slice of life types where our main character
Recommended. (I don't think it was random chance that awarded Kawabata the first Nobel prize to a Japanese in literature.)
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Ogata Shingo at 62 years of age finds himself becoming very forgetful - he worries that death may be coming for him as it has for friends. He has heard, he fears, the sound of the mountain, which he interprets as an omen of his death. He tries to find tranquility in nature, his attentive daughter-in-law and his tea drinking as his domestic life is undergoing a bit of upheaval with the marriages of his two children in trouble. This has a rather melancholy air to it, but not oppressing. Set during the early 50's, this really gave me a feel for the times in early post-war Japan as well as many small bits of Japanese society and culture. Recommended. (I don't think it was random chance that awarded Kawabata the first Nobel prize to a Japanese in literature.)
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LibraryThing member thorold
A slow-moving, lyrical account of a couple of years in the life of a middle-class family living in the historic small town of Kamakura a few years after the end of the war. Shingo, a businessman in his early sixties, is watching rather helplessly whilst just about everything he counts on is slowly
Despite its very restrained, formal Japanese style, it’s not difficult to identify with Kawabata’s account of the fears and uncertainties that go with approaching old age in a time of destabilised social conditions. Kawabata isn’t known as political and historical writer, but the story here clearly is centred in the particular historical moment when he was writing, with frequent references to current newspaper stories or to people who have been damaged by the war in one way or another.
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crumbling away around him. His mind and body aren’t what they used to be, his son and daughter are both going through difficult patches in their marriages, his own marriage has gone stale, his friends are gradually dying off, and he can’t even take the same pleasure in nature, poetry and the harmonies of Japanese society and religion that he used to. Even the one thing that really does give him pleasure — his close friendship with his daughter-in-law — is a source of guilt to him when he sees that he may be holding her back from resolving the problems she has with her wayward husband. Despite its very restrained, formal Japanese style, it’s not difficult to identify with Kawabata’s account of the fears and uncertainties that go with approaching old age in a time of destabilised social conditions. Kawabata isn’t known as political and historical writer, but the story here clearly is centred in the particular historical moment when he was writing, with frequent references to current newspaper stories or to people who have been damaged by the war in one way or another.
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LibraryThing member PhoenixTerran
Prior to reading The Sound of the Mountain I had only read one other novel by the distinguished Japanese author Yasunari Kawabata--Thousand Cranes, one of the three works to have been cited when Kawabata became the first Japanese recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature. I enjoyed Thousand
Shingo Ogata is an aging businessman in postwar Japan. His memory has started to fail him, his hair turns whiter as each day passes, many of his friends and acquaintances have already died, and he begins to be plagued by peculiar dreams. There is nothing he can do to halt the steady decline of his mind and health, but what concerns him most is the decline of his family and the unraveling of his children's marriages. The philandering ways of Shingo's son Shuichi are an open secret but his son's wife Kikuko remains devoted to him, although perhaps even more so to Shingo. Shingo's daughter, too, is having marital problems. The situation may or may not be temporary, but she has left her husband and is currently living in her parent's home along with her young children. The house is full, the family's relationships are strained, and Shingo is conflicted over what he should be doing about it all and over his developing feelings for Kikuko.
The Sound of the Mountain is a relatively quiet novel. Shingo has his personal struggles and internal strife, and there is plenty of family drama, but the work largely consists of snippets of the everyday lives of the Ogata household. None of the characters in The Sound of the Mountain are particularly exceptional in any sort of way. Their lives and their troubles, while certainly having a great impact on those around them, are mundane. Kawabata's characterization of the individual family members is often very subtle and nuanced, as is his portrayal of the intricacies of their interpersonal relationships. As much as The Sound of the Mountain is about Shingo growing older, it's just as much about the transformation of his family. All things must inevitably come to an end. Shingo knows this, and knows that his life, too, will eventually end, but he still feels guilty about and responsible for the direction his family and his children are heading.
It's been a few years since I've read it, but overall I think I probably prefer Thousand Cranes over The Sound of the Mountain. However, the two novels do share some similarities: a focus on people and how they interact, a sparse writing style laden with symbolism, and so on. In the case of Thousand Cranes it was the Japanese tea ceremony that provided an underlying framework for the narrative while in The Sound of the Mountain it's Shingo's dreams and the change of the seasons--the steady progression of time. The Sound of the Mountain has a resigned, melancholic air to it. The novel isn't particularly uplifting, but in some ways it can be comforting to see a realistic depiction of a family trying to come to terms with the changes both in their lives as individuals and in their relationships to one another. The Sound of the Mountain captures those fleeting moments of joy and of unrest, revealing that in any stage of life people are at least partially defined by those closest to them.
Experiments in Manga
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Cranes and have been meaning to read more of Kawabata's work for quite some time now. Although it probably isn't his best known work to have been translated, The Sound of the Mountain does have the distinction of being one of Kawabata's longest novels. The volume was completed in Japan in 1954 after having been serialized for five years. Also in 1954, the novel was adapted as a live-action film directed by Mikio Naruse. The Sound of the Mountain was first translated into English by Edward G. Seidensticker in 1970 for which he won the National Book Award for Translation.Shingo Ogata is an aging businessman in postwar Japan. His memory has started to fail him, his hair turns whiter as each day passes, many of his friends and acquaintances have already died, and he begins to be plagued by peculiar dreams. There is nothing he can do to halt the steady decline of his mind and health, but what concerns him most is the decline of his family and the unraveling of his children's marriages. The philandering ways of Shingo's son Shuichi are an open secret but his son's wife Kikuko remains devoted to him, although perhaps even more so to Shingo. Shingo's daughter, too, is having marital problems. The situation may or may not be temporary, but she has left her husband and is currently living in her parent's home along with her young children. The house is full, the family's relationships are strained, and Shingo is conflicted over what he should be doing about it all and over his developing feelings for Kikuko.
The Sound of the Mountain is a relatively quiet novel. Shingo has his personal struggles and internal strife, and there is plenty of family drama, but the work largely consists of snippets of the everyday lives of the Ogata household. None of the characters in The Sound of the Mountain are particularly exceptional in any sort of way. Their lives and their troubles, while certainly having a great impact on those around them, are mundane. Kawabata's characterization of the individual family members is often very subtle and nuanced, as is his portrayal of the intricacies of their interpersonal relationships. As much as The Sound of the Mountain is about Shingo growing older, it's just as much about the transformation of his family. All things must inevitably come to an end. Shingo knows this, and knows that his life, too, will eventually end, but he still feels guilty about and responsible for the direction his family and his children are heading.
It's been a few years since I've read it, but overall I think I probably prefer Thousand Cranes over The Sound of the Mountain. However, the two novels do share some similarities: a focus on people and how they interact, a sparse writing style laden with symbolism, and so on. In the case of Thousand Cranes it was the Japanese tea ceremony that provided an underlying framework for the narrative while in The Sound of the Mountain it's Shingo's dreams and the change of the seasons--the steady progression of time. The Sound of the Mountain has a resigned, melancholic air to it. The novel isn't particularly uplifting, but in some ways it can be comforting to see a realistic depiction of a family trying to come to terms with the changes both in their lives as individuals and in their relationships to one another. The Sound of the Mountain captures those fleeting moments of joy and of unrest, revealing that in any stage of life people are at least partially defined by those closest to them.
Experiments in Manga
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LibraryThing member brianfergusonwpg
This book almost perfectly mirrors the emotions and perspectives of my current stage of life. I admire the precision and compassion with which Kawabata can perceive the true significance of what relatives, his junior, are going through. There must be something almost cosmological about being a
Wild though my interpretation might be this is what I get from it. Such is the richness of Kawabata's writing. I think it comes from the discipline of focus. However, it never feels overly austere or contrived. Might be my favorite Japanese writer next to Tanizaki.
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modernistic individual in the context of a strict traditional social structure. Modernity seems to intensify rather than diminish the complexities and tensions between family members. Contrasted with the primordial forces the protagonist is confronting (his mortality) his own relatives play almost archetypal roles in the story and I can't help but visualize the "sound" of the mountain as, in addition to a metaphor for death, having resonance as one for current climate change and the apocalypse in general. Wild though my interpretation might be this is what I get from it. Such is the richness of Kawabata's writing. I think it comes from the discipline of focus. However, it never feels overly austere or contrived. Might be my favorite Japanese writer next to Tanizaki.
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LibraryThing member neurodrew
An elderly businessman with a troubled family and minor memory problems
Ogata Shingo awakens one night to a subtle sound, like a roar, that seems to come from the mountain behind his suburban Tokyo home. In Japanese lore hearing the sound of the mountain is an omen of approaching death. Shingo's
Translated from the Japanese by Edward G. Seidensticker
Publisher's summary:
"By day Ogata Shingo, an elderly Tokyo businessman, is troubled by small failures of memory. At night he associates the distant rumble he hears from the nearby mountain with the sounds of death. In between are the complex relationships that were once the foundations of Shingo's life: his trying wife; his philandering son; and his beautiful daughter-in-law, who inspires in him both pity and the stirrings of desire. Out of this translucent web of attachments, Kawabata has crafted a novel that is a powerful, serenely observed meditation on the relentless march of time."
Ogata Shingo awakens one night to a subtle sound, like a roar, that seems to come from the mountain behind his suburban Tokyo home. In Japanese lore hearing the sound of the mountain is an omen of approaching death. Shingo's
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life is not happy. He is worried about some lapses of memory, his wife argues with him about trivial matters, his son and daughter in law lives in the same home with Shingo, and Shingo's daughter returns home with her child when her husband abandons her. Shingo becomes attracted to his daughter in law, who, it is clear by the end of the book, is in love with Shingo. Shingo's life in post-war Japan is quiet, he commutes every day on the train, often with his son. He has a secretary who is fond of him, and his son has a paramour, who becomes pregnant. The action is all very quiet and emotional, but engaging. I was very interested in the descriptions of life in 1950's Japan. Translated from the Japanese by Edward G. Seidensticker
Publisher's summary:
"By day Ogata Shingo, an elderly Tokyo businessman, is troubled by small failures of memory. At night he associates the distant rumble he hears from the nearby mountain with the sounds of death. In between are the complex relationships that were once the foundations of Shingo's life: his trying wife; his philandering son; and his beautiful daughter-in-law, who inspires in him both pity and the stirrings of desire. Out of this translucent web of attachments, Kawabata has crafted a novel that is a powerful, serenely observed meditation on the relentless march of time."
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LibraryThing member SRB5729
I savored this book slowly. I think that a quick read of this will make it just another story. Being with the book allows the simple at first tale to sink into you. As described, a significant theme is the march of time. That concept is subtly woven through and really hits home over the course of
Having lived in modern Japan, it was worthwhile to hear about another time. Truly another time but only so many decades ago. How life has changed, and how it has not. The struggles of humanity are not trapped into one particular period.
I enjoyed this book and was also saddened. Life keeps moving forward.
As I noted, do not rush through. Enjoy the read.
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the narrative. Having lived in modern Japan, it was worthwhile to hear about another time. Truly another time but only so many decades ago. How life has changed, and how it has not. The struggles of humanity are not trapped into one particular period.
I enjoyed this book and was also saddened. Life keeps moving forward.
As I noted, do not rush through. Enjoy the read.
Show Less
Awards
National Book Award (Finalist — Translation — 1971)
Language
Original language
Japanese
Original publication date
1954
Physical description
223 p.; 6.7 inches
ISBN
0425039730 / 9780425039731