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The Izu Dancer and Other Stories: The Counterfeiter, Obasute, The Full Moon
Originally published in The Atlantic Monthly, in 1958, The Izu Dancer, a story about a young man's travels through the Izu Peninsula, introduced Kawabata's prodigious talent to the West. Since its first printing, Kawabata, winner of the 1968 Nobel Prize, has been recognized as one of Japan's most distinguished writers.
Also included in this collection are three stories by the prolific author Yasushi Inoue, the recipient of every major prize in Japanese literature: The Counterfeiter, Obasute, and The Full Moon. Inoue's stories, each of which are at least partially autobiographical, all reveal his great compassion for his fellow human being.
Also included in this collection are three stories by the prolific author Yasushi Inoue, the recipient of every major prize in Japanese literature: The Counterfeiter, Obasute, and The Full Moon. Inoue's stories, each of which are at least partially autobiographical, all reveal his great compassion for his fellow human being.
146 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1974
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About the author
Yasunari Kawabata
427 books3,859 followersYasunari Kawabata (川端 康成) was a Japanese short story writer and novelist whose spare, lyrical, subtly-shaded prose works won him the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1968, the first Japanese author to receive the award. His works have enjoyed broad international appeal and are still widely read today.
Nobel Lecture: 1968
http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prize...
Nobel Lecture: 1968
http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prize...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews
April 13, 2020
This book (I read the ebook) consists of four short stories; the first, the story of the title, is by Kawabata; the other three are by Inoue. All four are exceptionally different in theme.
In The Izu Dancer a male university student is bumming around in the summer and falls in love with a young dancer and drummer in a group of traveling performers. He joins up with them just to have company while he travels. Apparently itinerant performers were considered low-class as they act honored to have the student with them. The time period is uncertain because it seemed to me an ancient time – traveling by foot on dirt roads and drinking from streams – but then the young girl asks him to take her to a movie. So perhaps early 1900’s? At the public baths he discovers the girl is really a child and the girl’s mother won’t let him take her to a movie. It’s a love that cannot be and as such reminds me of poignant moments in Death in Venice, where the older German man is pursuing a young boy, or the moment in Colm Toibin’s The Master when Henry James waits outside a young man’s window and turns away…
I thought the best story in the book was also the longest and most developed. The Counterfeiter is about a man hired by the family of a famous deceased artist to write his biography. The man has been writing this biography on and off over ten years (! – interrupted by WW II, but still!). As he visits private homes where his subject’s scroll paintings are housed, he learns many are counterfeit. His real interest shifts to the counterfeiter. In the introduction, we are told that Inoue’s work had themes of orphanhood, loneliness, fate, predestination, the arts, newspaper writing and his home province of the Izu Peninsula. All of these work their way into the story.
In Obasute we learn that there is an ancient Japanese myth or legend about taking elderly people (over 70, so I’m eligible) to the top of this mountain and leaving them to die. There is a mountain in Japan, Mt. Kamuriki, the story is about, and it has been renamed from Ubasate which apparently means something like “leaving to die.” Anyway, this story is focused on how a family deals with their elderly mother who starts talking about “it’s time to carry me up Obasute.”
The Full Moon is about office politics in corporate Japan. The CEO or President has just been fired by the board. The incoming president surrounds himself with sycophants and mistresses just as the former president did. It’s about money, power, women and decorations (awards) in that order. The outcome is predictable.
I usually write a brief note about the author(s). The book is oddly structured with one story by Kawabata and three by Inoue. The book gives us an introduction and a brief biography of Inoue but nothing about Kawabata. So I looked up Kawabata on Wiki and discovered a lot of info that matches that given in the biographical info about Inoue – that Kawabata was the son of an army physician, orphaned at an early age, and raised by a grandmother on the Izu Peninsula south of Tokyo. But that’s the same info given for Inoue in the translator’s intro! Then I started thinking that maybe Inoue was a penname that Kawabata had used in the past --- look at the similarities in their first names: Yasunari and Yasushi. But no, they have different birth and death dates. (Kawabata 1899-1972; Inoue 1907-1991. Apparently no one carried them up the mountain.) Could the translator have been so sloppy that he mixed up Inoue's bibliographical information with Kawabata's? Or more likely, Wiki is mixed up? After an hour of trying to figure it out, I gave up. Hopefully the pictures I used are accurate.
A landscape on the Izu Peninsula from
A scroll of "Old Japan Dying Cave" from alchetron.com/cdn/ubasute
Yasunari Kawabata from nobelprize.org
Yasuushi Inoue from Goodreads
In The Izu Dancer a male university student is bumming around in the summer and falls in love with a young dancer and drummer in a group of traveling performers. He joins up with them just to have company while he travels. Apparently itinerant performers were considered low-class as they act honored to have the student with them. The time period is uncertain because it seemed to me an ancient time – traveling by foot on dirt roads and drinking from streams – but then the young girl asks him to take her to a movie. So perhaps early 1900’s? At the public baths he discovers the girl is really a child and the girl’s mother won’t let him take her to a movie. It’s a love that cannot be and as such reminds me of poignant moments in Death in Venice, where the older German man is pursuing a young boy, or the moment in Colm Toibin’s The Master when Henry James waits outside a young man’s window and turns away…
I thought the best story in the book was also the longest and most developed. The Counterfeiter is about a man hired by the family of a famous deceased artist to write his biography. The man has been writing this biography on and off over ten years (! – interrupted by WW II, but still!). As he visits private homes where his subject’s scroll paintings are housed, he learns many are counterfeit. His real interest shifts to the counterfeiter. In the introduction, we are told that Inoue’s work had themes of orphanhood, loneliness, fate, predestination, the arts, newspaper writing and his home province of the Izu Peninsula. All of these work their way into the story.
In Obasute we learn that there is an ancient Japanese myth or legend about taking elderly people (over 70, so I’m eligible) to the top of this mountain and leaving them to die. There is a mountain in Japan, Mt. Kamuriki, the story is about, and it has been renamed from Ubasate which apparently means something like “leaving to die.” Anyway, this story is focused on how a family deals with their elderly mother who starts talking about “it’s time to carry me up Obasute.”
The Full Moon is about office politics in corporate Japan. The CEO or President has just been fired by the board. The incoming president surrounds himself with sycophants and mistresses just as the former president did. It’s about money, power, women and decorations (awards) in that order. The outcome is predictable.
I usually write a brief note about the author(s). The book is oddly structured with one story by Kawabata and three by Inoue. The book gives us an introduction and a brief biography of Inoue but nothing about Kawabata. So I looked up Kawabata on Wiki and discovered a lot of info that matches that given in the biographical info about Inoue – that Kawabata was the son of an army physician, orphaned at an early age, and raised by a grandmother on the Izu Peninsula south of Tokyo. But that’s the same info given for Inoue in the translator’s intro! Then I started thinking that maybe Inoue was a penname that Kawabata had used in the past --- look at the similarities in their first names: Yasunari and Yasushi. But no, they have different birth and death dates. (Kawabata 1899-1972; Inoue 1907-1991. Apparently no one carried them up the mountain.) Could the translator have been so sloppy that he mixed up Inoue's bibliographical information with Kawabata's? Or more likely, Wiki is mixed up? After an hour of trying to figure it out, I gave up. Hopefully the pictures I used are accurate.
A landscape on the Izu Peninsula from
A scroll of "Old Japan Dying Cave" from alchetron.com/cdn/ubasute
Yasunari Kawabata from nobelprize.org
Yasuushi Inoue from Goodreads
June 20, 2018
I preferred the Yasushi Inoue story,'Obasute', beginning..." When on earth was it that I first heard the legends about abandoning the old people on Mount Obasute?" This theme is also dealt with in the movie ' The Ballad of Narayama'
March 6, 2015
La danzarina de Izu es una buena opción para aproximarse al universo de Kawabata. Se trata de un relato breve en el que se narra un enamoramiento juvenil entre un estudiante tokiota de viaje por la península de Izu y una joven percusionista, una bailarina para él, que se encuentra por la zona trabajando con su familia, un grupo de músicos ambulantes.
¿Por qué digo que es una buena manera de acercarse a Kawabata?
En primer lugar porque ya se entrevé aquí, siendo esta su ópera prima, escrita a los 27 años, la maestría que posee y que perfeccionará posteriormente, a la hora de crear imágenes bellísimas. Buen ejemplo es el principio del relato: “el sendero subía por la montaña, dando vueltas y vueltas. Cuando llegaba al paso de Amagi, descargó de pronto un fuerte aguacero que envolvió el frondoso bosque de cedros en un velo gris pálido”; la descripción paisajística cuando dice que “mientras anochecía lentamente, empezó a llover con fuerza. Las montañas parecían alejarse, del suelo se elevaban blancas nubes de niebla, y el arroyo que corría junto a la casa se tiñó de amarillo y sus aguas bajaban con más ímpetu y fuerza“; o el retrato idealizado de su enamorada: “sus grandes ojos negros y brillantes eran lo más hermoso en ella, y su risa era como abrirse de las flores. Se me ocurrió la expresión de “risa florida” y comprendí que sólo para ella era adecuada.”
En segundo lugar porque aunque se intuye el tono melancólico tan característico del autor (la tragedia y la muerte se anuncian mediante la alusión a los abortos), al tratarse de una obra de juventud, este no llega a ser tan acusado y asfixiante como lo encontramos en País de Nieve o en Lo Bello y lo Triste, por lo que la lectura del relato es más ligera y agradable. Me quiero referir, con ello, concretamente, a la presentación de la historia amorosa que se erige como eje central de la narración.
Deliciosa es la escena cuando a ella se le derrama el té debido a los nervios (que me recordó a algo parecido que me pasó a mí en el cine con unas palomitas que acabaron esparcidas por el suelo), quedando él conmovido; o bien, cuando él afirma que “me resultaba incómodo permanecer de pie delante de ella, con toda mi estatura.” Bello es el uso de la cabellera femenina como leitmotiv erótico que se puede apreciar en los siguientes pasajes: “llevaba el pelo recogido en lo alto de la cabeza, peinado en una forma que yo nunca había visto. Su lindo rostro quedaba empequeñecido, pero aquel peinado le sentaba maravillosamente. Su cabellera era abundante, como la de esas ideales doncellas de los cuentos.” (…) “Su precioso cabello negro casi me rozaba el pecho. De pronto, enrojeció.” Se trata de un amor no consumado ya que los amantes no pueden estar solos ni un instante, circunstancia que añade tensión al relato, que se acentúa debido a la separación final inevitable, con toda la inmensa tristeza que supone, magistralmente descrita por el autor, concluyendo así la historia. No obstante, me gustaría destacar que justamente la frase final del texto desprende una áurea positiva, lo que he agradecido enormemente: “me parecía que toda mi cabeza se diluía en agua clara, que iba goteando lentamente dejando tras de sí la dulzura de una dicha incomparable.”
Y, en último lugar, porque el texto contiene un amplio abanico de elementos japoneses, muy atractivos, por exóticos, a los ojos del lector occidental: el juego de go, los baños termales, la alusión al samisén o las descripciones del interior de las estancias podrían ser algunos ejemplos.
En el caso que esta lectura no sea nuestra primera experiencia con Kawabata podremos, quizás, ver más allá e intentar darle a la historia un sentido simbólico. A mi parecer, el autor describe un primer desamor, la pérdida de la inocencia infantil y, con ello, el paso al mundo de los adultos. Por una parte, la gorra de estudiante que el personaje principal lleva puesta al principio del relato y que entrega como regalo de despedida a Eikichi, sacándola arrugada de la cartera, simbolizaría este abandono del personaje niño que al tener que irse de Izu abandona la juventud, el paraíso. Por otra parte, la entrada en el mundo de los adultos se refleja en la responsabilidad que un hombre le encarga al protagonista en el momento de embarcar: el deber de hacerse cargo de acompañar a una anciana con un bebé hasta Tokio. De todas formas me gustaría recalcar que no debería entenderse en la atmósfera kawabatiana, a mi modo de ver, este paso del mundo infantil al mundo adulto de manera rígida sino que se trata más bien de idas y venidas constantes de un lugar a otro representadas por los personajes masculinos que pueblan sus novelas, siempre enganchados al recuerdo de la juventud y a los amores apasionados que en él encuentran, independientemente de la edad que tengan.
Respecto al entorno como espejo simbólico de las emociones de los personajes, el paraíso al que se ha aludido más arriba, concuerda con el lugar donde se ubica la historia, la península de Izu, un lugar tradicionalmente de recreo y ocio en Japón, en contraposición a Tokio, de donde viene el protagonista (dicotomía que encontraremos después tanto en País de Nieve, las montañas en ese caso, como en Lo Bello y lo Triste, Kioto allí). Otro elemento utilizado simbólicamente sería la estación de año en la que se sitúa la historia, el otoño, que jugaría aquí como elemento que acentúa la melancolía de la despedida, del abandono, tanto de la enamorada como de la juventud, quedando tan sólo después el frío invernal. El otoño viene acompañado de la lluvia además, presente durante toda la historia. El agua que cae del cielo se mimetiza con las lágrimas del protagonista al abandonar la isla que a la vez se funde con la estela que va dejando el barco en el mar mientras se aleja, estela a la que autor no se refiere explícitamente pero da suficientes recursos sensoriales y literarios para que el lector se la pueda imaginar.
Si tuviera que objetarle algo, objetaría la visión que se desprende de la mujer en la historia como ser inferior al hombre. Es cierto que debemos tener en cuenta que el relato se sitúa en Japón en los años treinta aproximadamente (o al menos en esa época fue escrito, en 1926 exactamente) por lo que la crítica puede resultar descontextualizada, pero vamos allá. El protagonista mira a su enamorada como a una niña, cuando en realidad él tiene veinte años y ella diecisiete, es decir, son de la misma edad. ¿Es que se cree que es su padre o su tutor? Además la venera como si de un objeto se tratara. Otro momento en el que se alude a la mujer como a un ser frágil es cuando dice que “pensé que, aunque estuvieran acostumbradas a caminar, al fin y al cabo eran mujeres y, aunque me llevaran uno o dos kilómetros de ventaja, podría alcanzarlas fácilmente.” Pero lo más sorprendente del caso es que las mismas mujeres comparten idéntica visión cuando a la hora de beber agua o de comer dejan primero que sea el hombre quien proceda para evitar que él se contamine, por resumirlo de algún modo. Ahí lo dejo.
Por último me gustaría añadir esta información curiosa que he encontrado en Wikipedia para vincular el relato con la actualidad: “la historia es bien conocida en Japón, hasta el punto de que parte del título del relato, odoriko (que significa "bailarina") se usa para designar a los expresos que van a la zona de Izu. “
Una lectura indispensable para los fans de Kawabata.
¿Por qué digo que es una buena manera de acercarse a Kawabata?
En primer lugar porque ya se entrevé aquí, siendo esta su ópera prima, escrita a los 27 años, la maestría que posee y que perfeccionará posteriormente, a la hora de crear imágenes bellísimas. Buen ejemplo es el principio del relato: “el sendero subía por la montaña, dando vueltas y vueltas. Cuando llegaba al paso de Amagi, descargó de pronto un fuerte aguacero que envolvió el frondoso bosque de cedros en un velo gris pálido”; la descripción paisajística cuando dice que “mientras anochecía lentamente, empezó a llover con fuerza. Las montañas parecían alejarse, del suelo se elevaban blancas nubes de niebla, y el arroyo que corría junto a la casa se tiñó de amarillo y sus aguas bajaban con más ímpetu y fuerza“; o el retrato idealizado de su enamorada: “sus grandes ojos negros y brillantes eran lo más hermoso en ella, y su risa era como abrirse de las flores. Se me ocurrió la expresión de “risa florida” y comprendí que sólo para ella era adecuada.”
En segundo lugar porque aunque se intuye el tono melancólico tan característico del autor (la tragedia y la muerte se anuncian mediante la alusión a los abortos), al tratarse de una obra de juventud, este no llega a ser tan acusado y asfixiante como lo encontramos en País de Nieve o en Lo Bello y lo Triste, por lo que la lectura del relato es más ligera y agradable. Me quiero referir, con ello, concretamente, a la presentación de la historia amorosa que se erige como eje central de la narración.
Deliciosa es la escena cuando a ella se le derrama el té debido a los nervios (que me recordó a algo parecido que me pasó a mí en el cine con unas palomitas que acabaron esparcidas por el suelo), quedando él conmovido; o bien, cuando él afirma que “me resultaba incómodo permanecer de pie delante de ella, con toda mi estatura.” Bello es el uso de la cabellera femenina como leitmotiv erótico que se puede apreciar en los siguientes pasajes: “llevaba el pelo recogido en lo alto de la cabeza, peinado en una forma que yo nunca había visto. Su lindo rostro quedaba empequeñecido, pero aquel peinado le sentaba maravillosamente. Su cabellera era abundante, como la de esas ideales doncellas de los cuentos.” (…) “Su precioso cabello negro casi me rozaba el pecho. De pronto, enrojeció.” Se trata de un amor no consumado ya que los amantes no pueden estar solos ni un instante, circunstancia que añade tensión al relato, que se acentúa debido a la separación final inevitable, con toda la inmensa tristeza que supone, magistralmente descrita por el autor, concluyendo así la historia. No obstante, me gustaría destacar que justamente la frase final del texto desprende una áurea positiva, lo que he agradecido enormemente: “me parecía que toda mi cabeza se diluía en agua clara, que iba goteando lentamente dejando tras de sí la dulzura de una dicha incomparable.”
Y, en último lugar, porque el texto contiene un amplio abanico de elementos japoneses, muy atractivos, por exóticos, a los ojos del lector occidental: el juego de go, los baños termales, la alusión al samisén o las descripciones del interior de las estancias podrían ser algunos ejemplos.
En el caso que esta lectura no sea nuestra primera experiencia con Kawabata podremos, quizás, ver más allá e intentar darle a la historia un sentido simbólico. A mi parecer, el autor describe un primer desamor, la pérdida de la inocencia infantil y, con ello, el paso al mundo de los adultos. Por una parte, la gorra de estudiante que el personaje principal lleva puesta al principio del relato y que entrega como regalo de despedida a Eikichi, sacándola arrugada de la cartera, simbolizaría este abandono del personaje niño que al tener que irse de Izu abandona la juventud, el paraíso. Por otra parte, la entrada en el mundo de los adultos se refleja en la responsabilidad que un hombre le encarga al protagonista en el momento de embarcar: el deber de hacerse cargo de acompañar a una anciana con un bebé hasta Tokio. De todas formas me gustaría recalcar que no debería entenderse en la atmósfera kawabatiana, a mi modo de ver, este paso del mundo infantil al mundo adulto de manera rígida sino que se trata más bien de idas y venidas constantes de un lugar a otro representadas por los personajes masculinos que pueblan sus novelas, siempre enganchados al recuerdo de la juventud y a los amores apasionados que en él encuentran, independientemente de la edad que tengan.
Respecto al entorno como espejo simbólico de las emociones de los personajes, el paraíso al que se ha aludido más arriba, concuerda con el lugar donde se ubica la historia, la península de Izu, un lugar tradicionalmente de recreo y ocio en Japón, en contraposición a Tokio, de donde viene el protagonista (dicotomía que encontraremos después tanto en País de Nieve, las montañas en ese caso, como en Lo Bello y lo Triste, Kioto allí). Otro elemento utilizado simbólicamente sería la estación de año en la que se sitúa la historia, el otoño, que jugaría aquí como elemento que acentúa la melancolía de la despedida, del abandono, tanto de la enamorada como de la juventud, quedando tan sólo después el frío invernal. El otoño viene acompañado de la lluvia además, presente durante toda la historia. El agua que cae del cielo se mimetiza con las lágrimas del protagonista al abandonar la isla que a la vez se funde con la estela que va dejando el barco en el mar mientras se aleja, estela a la que autor no se refiere explícitamente pero da suficientes recursos sensoriales y literarios para que el lector se la pueda imaginar.
Si tuviera que objetarle algo, objetaría la visión que se desprende de la mujer en la historia como ser inferior al hombre. Es cierto que debemos tener en cuenta que el relato se sitúa en Japón en los años treinta aproximadamente (o al menos en esa época fue escrito, en 1926 exactamente) por lo que la crítica puede resultar descontextualizada, pero vamos allá. El protagonista mira a su enamorada como a una niña, cuando en realidad él tiene veinte años y ella diecisiete, es decir, son de la misma edad. ¿Es que se cree que es su padre o su tutor? Además la venera como si de un objeto se tratara. Otro momento en el que se alude a la mujer como a un ser frágil es cuando dice que “pensé que, aunque estuvieran acostumbradas a caminar, al fin y al cabo eran mujeres y, aunque me llevaran uno o dos kilómetros de ventaja, podría alcanzarlas fácilmente.” Pero lo más sorprendente del caso es que las mismas mujeres comparten idéntica visión cuando a la hora de beber agua o de comer dejan primero que sea el hombre quien proceda para evitar que él se contamine, por resumirlo de algún modo. Ahí lo dejo.
Por último me gustaría añadir esta información curiosa que he encontrado en Wikipedia para vincular el relato con la actualidad: “la historia es bien conocida en Japón, hasta el punto de que parte del título del relato, odoriko (que significa "bailarina") se usa para designar a los expresos que van a la zona de Izu. “
Una lectura indispensable para los fans de Kawabata.
February 4, 2016
I’ve longed to read “The Izu Dancer” by Yasunari Kawabata but I couldn’t find one till last November. The book was a bit disappointing due to such thrifty length, merely 21 pages, of the mentioned title as well as three obscure stories, except the title of “The Counterfeiter” casually seen somewhere, by Yasushi Inoue. So whenever I leafed through the stories, I couldn’t help asking myself, “Inoue who?” since his name was unfamiliar to me till I couldn’t recall reading any of his works before. Then, I’ve known Edward Seidensticker and read many of his fine translations from Japanese but the name Leon Picon as a new translator has started to worry me.
Probably more well-known to international readers than other Japanese writers since some 48 years ago, Kawabata awarded the prestigious Nobel Prize in literature in 1968 has written something enchantingly sentimental, I think, in most of his novels I’ve read so far. As we can see and imagine the seemingly loving bond initiated by the nineteen-year-old narrator ‘I’ when he again meets such a young, pretty girl named Kaoru, a dancer traveling as a member in a group to another town [“I had seen the little dancer twice before.” (p. 10)]. This might be quite a simple, ordinary story between a young man and his fledging love after seeing her but Kawabata has own ways of narrating to induce his readers to read on and wonder if his love is shared and ended happily. From the context, we can’t help wondering on the dancer’s age in some excerpts that follow:
“The little girl turned over the cushion she had been sitting on and pushed it politely toward me.
…
She was perhaps sixteen. Her hair was swept up in mounds after an old style I hardly know what to call. …” (p. 9)
In fact, she is far younger than that, as we can see from this dialogue:
“I’m afraid not. That’s my wife, the older of the two women. She’s a year younger than you. She lost her second baby on the road this summer – it only lived a week – and she isn’t really well yet. The older woman is her mother, the girl is my sister.”
“You said you had a sister thirteen?”
“That’s the one. I’ve tried to think of ways of keeping her out of this business, but there were all sorts of reasons why it couldn’t be helped.”
He said his own name was Eikichi, his wife was Chiyo-ko, the dancer, his sister, was Kaoru. … (pp. 18-19)
Probably more well-known to international readers than other Japanese writers since some 48 years ago, Kawabata awarded the prestigious Nobel Prize in literature in 1968 has written something enchantingly sentimental, I think, in most of his novels I’ve read so far. As we can see and imagine the seemingly loving bond initiated by the nineteen-year-old narrator ‘I’ when he again meets such a young, pretty girl named Kaoru, a dancer traveling as a member in a group to another town [“I had seen the little dancer twice before.” (p. 10)]. This might be quite a simple, ordinary story between a young man and his fledging love after seeing her but Kawabata has own ways of narrating to induce his readers to read on and wonder if his love is shared and ended happily. From the context, we can’t help wondering on the dancer’s age in some excerpts that follow:
“The little girl turned over the cushion she had been sitting on and pushed it politely toward me.
…
She was perhaps sixteen. Her hair was swept up in mounds after an old style I hardly know what to call. …” (p. 9)
In fact, she is far younger than that, as we can see from this dialogue:
“I’m afraid not. That’s my wife, the older of the two women. She’s a year younger than you. She lost her second baby on the road this summer – it only lived a week – and she isn’t really well yet. The older woman is her mother, the girl is my sister.”
“You said you had a sister thirteen?”
“That’s the one. I’ve tried to think of ways of keeping her out of this business, but there were all sorts of reasons why it couldn’t be helped.”
He said his own name was Eikichi, his wife was Chiyo-ko, the dancer, his sister, was Kaoru. … (pp. 18-19)
October 11, 2023
This collection includes Kawabata Yasunari’s first short story, “The Izu Dancer” (1926), which tells the story of a young man traveling across the Izu Peninsula. The characteristic minimalism of language and focus on the aesthetics of nature are present even in this precursor to Snow Country. Already the lyrical beauty imitates the harmony and subtly of haiku imagery. The simple story is about a young unnamed student who travels by foot across the Izu Peninsula and comes across a traveling group of entertainers, who live off of the support of those at teahouses and inns. This group of three women (one young dancer) and a man are a bit of a motley assemblage, and come from the even remoter Oshima in the Ieu Islands. This is characteristic of Kawabata’s dynamic of relationships: modern urban vs rural tradition. It is a powerful analog to confront a changing world through a traditional aesthetic lens.
The remaining three stories are remarkable and a bonus to this namesake story by Kawabata. Inoue Yasushi wrote three short stories, though one, “The Counterfeiter” could be a short, six-part novella. This metatextual work extensively examines painting in terms of reputation, authenticity, commodity, and craft. The setting and socio-economic depictions capture mid-century rural Japanese life. In a way this story is the centerpiece of the book, not Kawabata’s shorter story. The key characters to recall are: Keigaku Onuki, Takuhiko Oniki, the narrator and his family, Hosen Hara, and a few supporting cast.
The remaining short stories by Inoue Yasushi are “Obasute” and “The Full Moon”. Among the two, “Obasute” fits better within the collection due to its setting and allegorical themes: family, death and the mountains. “The Full Moon” (or mangetsu in Japanese) is a wholly cultural expression of Japenese aesthetic tradition. The combination of corporate hierarchy and moon-viewing presents an original portrayal. The great character progression from Otaka to Kagebayashi to Toyama, Teryko, Kitazaka and Kaibara highlight the actors in this outside-of-Tokyo setting: Kamakura, Hakone, Choshi, Mito, and Shimoda.
In a way I feel that Murakami Haruki follows in this legacy. Despite all of the malicious commenting about Murakami’s work, I find deeply Japanese ideas in the form, meaning and structuring of his works. One only has to look to transitional works like Inoue’s to begin to bridge Soseki-Akutagawa-Kawabata-Inoue-……-Murakami. These minor works help to understand the literary frames the succeeding authors operate within.
The remaining three stories are remarkable and a bonus to this namesake story by Kawabata. Inoue Yasushi wrote three short stories, though one, “The Counterfeiter” could be a short, six-part novella. This metatextual work extensively examines painting in terms of reputation, authenticity, commodity, and craft. The setting and socio-economic depictions capture mid-century rural Japanese life. In a way this story is the centerpiece of the book, not Kawabata’s shorter story. The key characters to recall are: Keigaku Onuki, Takuhiko Oniki, the narrator and his family, Hosen Hara, and a few supporting cast.
The remaining short stories by Inoue Yasushi are “Obasute” and “The Full Moon”. Among the two, “Obasute” fits better within the collection due to its setting and allegorical themes: family, death and the mountains. “The Full Moon” (or mangetsu in Japanese) is a wholly cultural expression of Japenese aesthetic tradition. The combination of corporate hierarchy and moon-viewing presents an original portrayal. The great character progression from Otaka to Kagebayashi to Toyama, Teryko, Kitazaka and Kaibara highlight the actors in this outside-of-Tokyo setting: Kamakura, Hakone, Choshi, Mito, and Shimoda.
In a way I feel that Murakami Haruki follows in this legacy. Despite all of the malicious commenting about Murakami’s work, I find deeply Japanese ideas in the form, meaning and structuring of his works. One only has to look to transitional works like Inoue’s to begin to bridge Soseki-Akutagawa-Kawabata-Inoue-……-Murakami. These minor works help to understand the literary frames the succeeding authors operate within.
August 23, 2022
Came for the Kawabata short story, stayed for the Inoue works. The Izu Dancer is essentially only worth reading as an insight into the early development of Kawabata's style. The story disappears as soon as it arrives, much like the feeling Kawabata mastered with his great novels. Apart from that, it is a fairly uneventful piece that presents the stinging suddenness of companionship and loss.
Inoue's stories read like newspaper articles, but each one asserts observations while tactfully steering clear of bias. In The Counterfeiter, we have a biographer who is hyper-focused on a man who counterfeits the works of a great artist and can't fathom why one would spend a life imitating a great artist instead of attempting to become one themself. The irony is that this person is now focusing all of his thoughts and energies on the counterfeiter as opposed to the artist, and now here we are, the readers, focusing on the man who is focusing on the counterfeiter, bringing into question the idea of cultural impact. Obasute mixes Japanese folktale with a connection to nature, as well as a weariness of aging. The loneliness of one's mortality is examined through the narrator's observations of an elderly woman. My interest in Inoue's longer form works is certainly piqued after reading these three brief stories.
Inoue's stories read like newspaper articles, but each one asserts observations while tactfully steering clear of bias. In The Counterfeiter, we have a biographer who is hyper-focused on a man who counterfeits the works of a great artist and can't fathom why one would spend a life imitating a great artist instead of attempting to become one themself. The irony is that this person is now focusing all of his thoughts and energies on the counterfeiter as opposed to the artist, and now here we are, the readers, focusing on the man who is focusing on the counterfeiter, bringing into question the idea of cultural impact. Obasute mixes Japanese folktale with a connection to nature, as well as a weariness of aging. The loneliness of one's mortality is examined through the narrator's observations of an elderly woman. My interest in Inoue's longer form works is certainly piqued after reading these three brief stories.
December 31, 2021
kind of boring
April 7, 2024
This is a short story collection with one story by Yasunari Kawabata and three by Yasushi Inoue. The story by Kawabata titled The Izu Dancer was about a young man who comes upon a traveling dance group and is attracted to one of the dancers. He began traveling with them for a short time but soon discovered that the dancer was actually a child. Of the Inoue stories, I thought the one titled The Counterfeiter was the best but they were all excellent. This story was about a man who had been commissioned to write a biography of the artist, Keigaku Onuki. He put it off for quite awhile but when he finally started working on the biography he discovered a man who had been painting forgeries of Keigaku's work. In his research he then uncovered much more about the man who was forging the paintings.
October 30, 2025
naked in a four hundred year old onsen
i lie beneath a roof that hums with rain
the light is dim only paper lamps only stars
their reflections trembling in the bathwater
kawabata speaks softly from the dark
telling me about the leaves how they change
how even color decays tenderly
a few have fallen into the bamboo tub
their red dissolves a brief thought
and the ceiling ripples with their echoes of afterglow
reading these words, here, i think– this is what it means to be seen by something that will never remember me
i lie beneath a roof that hums with rain
the light is dim only paper lamps only stars
their reflections trembling in the bathwater
kawabata speaks softly from the dark
telling me about the leaves how they change
how even color decays tenderly
a few have fallen into the bamboo tub
their red dissolves a brief thought
and the ceiling ripples with their echoes of afterglow
reading these words, here, i think– this is what it means to be seen by something that will never remember me
February 1, 2021
Seidensticker’s translation (although abridged) for Kawabata’s short story is excellent and Kawabata’s style is beautiful and alluring (and it was easier to follow compared to Snow Country ).
Yasushi Inoue’s stories surprised me in a good way. I had not heard of him before getting this book, but his stories were very well written and strangely captivating. The Counterfeiter was my favourite of the three.
Yasushi Inoue’s stories surprised me in a good way. I had not heard of him before getting this book, but his stories were very well written and strangely captivating. The Counterfeiter was my favourite of the three.
September 30, 2024
This is a collection of four short stories by Yasunari Kawabata (The Izu Dancer) and Yasushi Inoue (the other three). The stories are literary fiction, in other words: Not much is happening, really, but they provide an interesting glimpse into the Japan of the 1950s.
The Izu Dancer was the first story by Kawabata to appear in English; the foundation stone of international fame that eventually led to the Nobel Prize in 1968. It’s about a troupe of dancers from the Izu Peninsula who travel through Japan in summer to make money. The youngest one catches the eye of an equally wandering student, but when he finds out that she’s only 13, he is content with sharing the road only.
The Counterfeiter describes the life of Hosen Hara, a childhood friend Keigaku Onuki. While both show artistic talent from a young age, it is the latter who becomes a famous painter. The former eventually produces forgeries of his friend’s artwork. Inoue asks the question whether this outcome was inevitable.
In Obasute, Inoue traes the legend of abandoning old people on a mountain and relates it to the inner dynamics of a family: Their matriarch has just turned 70 – the age for the legendary abandoning – but at the same time, his younger sister abandons husband and children to pursue her own life.
The Full Moon details the rise and eventual fall of Kagebayashi, who is made president of a company just before the annual moon viewing celebrations. We hear about leechers and hangers-on as well as of his enemies, all this with the backdrop of the harvest full moon. One of them will be Kagebayashi’s last…
The Izu Dancer was the first story by Kawabata to appear in English; the foundation stone of international fame that eventually led to the Nobel Prize in 1968. It’s about a troupe of dancers from the Izu Peninsula who travel through Japan in summer to make money. The youngest one catches the eye of an equally wandering student, but when he finds out that she’s only 13, he is content with sharing the road only.
The Counterfeiter describes the life of Hosen Hara, a childhood friend Keigaku Onuki. While both show artistic talent from a young age, it is the latter who becomes a famous painter. The former eventually produces forgeries of his friend’s artwork. Inoue asks the question whether this outcome was inevitable.
In Obasute, Inoue traes the legend of abandoning old people on a mountain and relates it to the inner dynamics of a family: Their matriarch has just turned 70 – the age for the legendary abandoning – but at the same time, his younger sister abandons husband and children to pursue her own life.
The Full Moon details the rise and eventual fall of Kagebayashi, who is made president of a company just before the annual moon viewing celebrations. We hear about leechers and hangers-on as well as of his enemies, all this with the backdrop of the harvest full moon. One of them will be Kagebayashi’s last…
November 1, 2024
Though only one of these four stories is written by Kawabata, the beauty of his writing is not only worth the price of the book, but complements the more 'modern' style of Inoue. Some have questioned the combination of these stories in one volume--I opine that they enhance each other.
January 1, 2025
Typical Japanese novels. With the vivid description of the background scenes, the authors pour out their thoughts page and page. And without any clue, no climax, no closing, the stories just end. 😅
January 28, 2025
Humdrum.
November 29, 2025
I really did not enjoy this. I found the book overall to be quite boring and uninteresting.
September 17, 2024
This is a strange little collection. The title story is by Yasunari Kawabate and the other three are by Yasushi Inoue. The Izu Dancer (by Kawabata) is quite good if not exceptional. The Counterfeiter is the best story in the collection and a real pleasure. Obasute is also good. However, the Full Moon is pretty bad. It almost reads like a sketch for a short story or a first draft. The narrator just relates a story of corporate politics and salaryman night life over a period of decades, with almost no character development.
August 20, 2025
I picked it up because it bore the name of Kawabata, but it was the Inoue stories that made this book for me. The Counterfeiter and The Full Moon especially stand out; both are told from an interesting perspective and contain a subtle dark humour that I have rarely encountered in Japanese literature from this period. Very enjoyable :-)
July 9, 2021
These short stories seem to deal with the theme of loneliness/solitude manifesting in the lives of people from very different social and economic backgrounds, and how this goes on to affect the new friendships they discover or the lives they end up leading, each in turn uncovering a different depth from which to view the wistfulness found in people
Originally I read this book after reading Kawabata’s Snow Country, hoping to experience a little more of his rather interesting and rather unmistakable Japanese prose, influenced by the evocative imagery and the juxtaposition of nature found in tanka poetry. I didn’t know who Yasushi Inoue was (and still don’t, I’ll get to Wikipedia eventually) but I supposed it was a good opportunity to experience other Japanese authors too… That said, Yasushi Inoue stole the whole show for me. I was amazed by his story ‘The Counterfeiter’ so much that I want to print it out and paste it on my wall (The 5 stars are for this story)!. Something about the way in which the story is told just speaks to me:
The story is framed by a journalist who sets out to write a posthumous memoire in a post WW2 Japan, retelling the life of a late master painter who, according to the master painter’s son’s innocuous remarks, happened to have a mysterious best friend in his younger years, before their relationship soured. Through his research writing the master painter’s biography, the journalist ends up instead enthralled with the bits and pieces he finds scouring rural Japan regarding this mystery man—a counterfeiter who made business by recreating and selling his friend’s paintings—and slowly uncovers what his life must have been like during his final years. We get a very imperfect and third-hand recount of the decay in the life of this mystery man, but over the course of the story the journalist almost entirely ends up forgetting of the master painter and instead, without meaning to, is able to paint an incredibly humane and sympathetic picture of the counterfeiter, a man who had wronged and made some dubious decisions in his life, but by the same token had also lived his life to the end with a kind of uneasy and beautiful sadness
Cheers, I’m crying
Originally I read this book after reading Kawabata’s Snow Country, hoping to experience a little more of his rather interesting and rather unmistakable Japanese prose, influenced by the evocative imagery and the juxtaposition of nature found in tanka poetry. I didn’t know who Yasushi Inoue was (and still don’t, I’ll get to Wikipedia eventually) but I supposed it was a good opportunity to experience other Japanese authors too… That said, Yasushi Inoue stole the whole show for me. I was amazed by his story ‘The Counterfeiter’ so much that I want to print it out and paste it on my wall (The 5 stars are for this story)!. Something about the way in which the story is told just speaks to me:
The story is framed by a journalist who sets out to write a posthumous memoire in a post WW2 Japan, retelling the life of a late master painter who, according to the master painter’s son’s innocuous remarks, happened to have a mysterious best friend in his younger years, before their relationship soured. Through his research writing the master painter’s biography, the journalist ends up instead enthralled with the bits and pieces he finds scouring rural Japan regarding this mystery man—a counterfeiter who made business by recreating and selling his friend’s paintings—and slowly uncovers what his life must have been like during his final years. We get a very imperfect and third-hand recount of the decay in the life of this mystery man, but over the course of the story the journalist almost entirely ends up forgetting of the master painter and instead, without meaning to, is able to paint an incredibly humane and sympathetic picture of the counterfeiter, a man who had wronged and made some dubious decisions in his life, but by the same token had also lived his life to the end with a kind of uneasy and beautiful sadness
Cheers, I’m crying
December 1, 2022
A lot of the reviews here are written for the wrong book. (As it turns out, the truth is more complicated. See the update at the end of the review.) There is a book called The Dancing Girl of Izu and Other Stories that consists of nothing but stories by Yasunari Kawabata, that are translated by J. Martin Holman. That is not this book. This book is called The Izu Dancer and Other Stories. (Note the slight difference in the title.) This book consists of one story by Kawabata, and three stories by Yasushi Inoue. Why this configuration? Why just one story by Kawabata? Why not just stories by one author or the other? You won't find the answer to these questions anywhere in the book. There is no editor listed and no introduction to the book. There is an introduction to the Inoue stories, but Kawabata is completely ignored in it.
So, how are the stories? The title story is a classic and is the best one in the book. This version of the story was translated by Edward Seidensticker, and was the first translation into English. I enjoyed it very much but was annoyed when afterwards I learned that Seidensticker had truncated the story. I then read the Holman translation for comparison's sake. The cuts didn't seem to me to be significant (although an incident involving an old man in an inn was completely removed) but on the whole I think I preferred Holman's prose.
I enjoyed the Inoue stories (well, two of them anyway) but they were written much later than the Kawabata stories and they don't seem to have much in common other than the fact that two of them have a connection to the Izu peninsula.
The book overall is an enjoyable read, especially if you stumble across it on a library shelf like I did. But if you're interested in the title story, I would recommended seeking out the Holman book.
Update: I just read the Holman book, but when I tried to post a review of it, I discovered that Good Reads is cramming the reviews of both books together. Anyway, the version of the title story is better in the Holman book, but the rest of the stories (all of which are by Kawabata) left me cold. So, three stars for that edition.
So, how are the stories? The title story is a classic and is the best one in the book. This version of the story was translated by Edward Seidensticker, and was the first translation into English. I enjoyed it very much but was annoyed when afterwards I learned that Seidensticker had truncated the story. I then read the Holman translation for comparison's sake. The cuts didn't seem to me to be significant (although an incident involving an old man in an inn was completely removed) but on the whole I think I preferred Holman's prose.
I enjoyed the Inoue stories (well, two of them anyway) but they were written much later than the Kawabata stories and they don't seem to have much in common other than the fact that two of them have a connection to the Izu peninsula.
The book overall is an enjoyable read, especially if you stumble across it on a library shelf like I did. But if you're interested in the title story, I would recommended seeking out the Holman book.
Update: I just read the Holman book, but when I tried to post a review of it, I discovered that Good Reads is cramming the reviews of both books together. Anyway, the version of the title story is better in the Holman book, but the rest of the stories (all of which are by Kawabata) left me cold. So, three stars for that edition.
June 9, 2017
The first story in this collection of four short stories “The Izu Dancer" so affected me that I was slow to continue reading this book. The protagonist is dressed as a student, but it’s not stated. His psychological and social state suggest that instead of being a student, he might be a Rounin - one who failed to pass the college entrance exams. He is infatuated with the little dancer, who, seems to be pre-teen. He manages to fall in with her dancing troupe, and as he travels with them, we learn of the cultural prejudice against traveling dancers - their status is similar to that of gypsies.
Communal bathing was common in that culture, so the following is beautifully understated: "An hour or so later they all went down for a bath. I must come along they insisted; but the idea of a bath with three young women was somewhat overwhelming, and I said I would go in later. In a moment the little dancer came back upstairs."
"Chiyoko says she'll wash your back if you come down now."
(The Izu Dancer and Other Stories, Tuttle, 1954, 1969, page 19)
The following three short stories are by Yasushi Inoue and were preceded by an interesting six page introduction that connects Inoue to the stories.
“The Counterfeiter” I was kept in suspense waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Obasute” An examination of feelings towards his parents and towards old age. As fiction, it includes some surprises.
“The Full Moon” Another short story with suspense just around the corner. It gives hints of the machinations that go on inside a corporation.
The printing that I have has a different cover, but the publisher and the number of pages match the edition that I am reviewing. I have the nineteenth printing, 1996
Communal bathing was common in that culture, so the following is beautifully understated: "An hour or so later they all went down for a bath. I must come along they insisted; but the idea of a bath with three young women was somewhat overwhelming, and I said I would go in later. In a moment the little dancer came back upstairs."
"Chiyoko says she'll wash your back if you come down now."
(The Izu Dancer and Other Stories, Tuttle, 1954, 1969, page 19)
The following three short stories are by Yasushi Inoue and were preceded by an interesting six page introduction that connects Inoue to the stories.
“The Counterfeiter” I was kept in suspense waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Obasute” An examination of feelings towards his parents and towards old age. As fiction, it includes some surprises.
“The Full Moon” Another short story with suspense just around the corner. It gives hints of the machinations that go on inside a corporation.
The printing that I have has a different cover, but the publisher and the number of pages match the edition that I am reviewing. I have the nineteenth printing, 1996
August 24, 2018
This book contains one story by Kawabata and three by Yasushi Inoue, with the Japanese region of Izu as a common theme. The stories are all quite subtle and literary, so anyone looking for short stories with a sting in the tale or a satisfying payoff is likely to be disappointed - I think these guys considered such techniques rather vulgar!
The title story tells of a student who falls in love with a young dancer he meets on the road. 'The Counterfeiter' is about a biographer who becomes more interested in the man who faked paintings by the artist he is writing about than in the artist himself. In 'Obasute', the narrator is obsessed with the stories of people abandoning their elderly parents on a mountaintop in medieval times (as in 'The Ballad of Narayama'). 'Full Moon' is a masterful depiction of the jockeying for position that goes on in a large Japanese company.
I greatly enjoyed all four stories and the translations here read very well indeed.
The title story tells of a student who falls in love with a young dancer he meets on the road. 'The Counterfeiter' is about a biographer who becomes more interested in the man who faked paintings by the artist he is writing about than in the artist himself. In 'Obasute', the narrator is obsessed with the stories of people abandoning their elderly parents on a mountaintop in medieval times (as in 'The Ballad of Narayama'). 'Full Moon' is a masterful depiction of the jockeying for position that goes on in a large Japanese company.
I greatly enjoyed all four stories and the translations here read very well indeed.
September 8, 2009
A book of short stories that offers a sampling of two great writers, Yasunari Kawabata and Yasushi Inoue.
The title story, The Izu Dancer is by Kawabata and is about a small troupe of traveling performers and a student infatuated with their young drummer girl. A beautiful little piece.
Inoue's contributions include The Counterfeiter, Obasute, and The Full Moon. All three stories deal with separation, loneliness, and alienation. Inoue takes the isolation, the loneliness of the character... a minor chord... and strokes it into the beautiful riff of nature. If he were a musician, he'd be singing the blues... with a smile as he looked out in his mind's eye over the mountains in the early autumn.
Kawabata is no stranger to me and I love his work. Inoue is fast becoming my newest friend in reading.
The title story, The Izu Dancer is by Kawabata and is about a small troupe of traveling performers and a student infatuated with their young drummer girl. A beautiful little piece.
Inoue's contributions include The Counterfeiter, Obasute, and The Full Moon. All three stories deal with separation, loneliness, and alienation. Inoue takes the isolation, the loneliness of the character... a minor chord... and strokes it into the beautiful riff of nature. If he were a musician, he'd be singing the blues... with a smile as he looked out in his mind's eye over the mountains in the early autumn.
Kawabata is no stranger to me and I love his work. Inoue is fast becoming my newest friend in reading.
October 15, 2016
The Izu Dancer is the short story from 1926 that first put Kawabata on the literary map. The "other stories" are by Yasushi Inoue, who was more or less his contemporary, but the three stories selected are from the 1950s. Other than the fact that two of the three make reference to the Izu Peninsula, where Inoue spent a good part of his childhood, there really isn't any reason to put these two writers together. I have read some seven or eight books published by Tuttle in the past couple of months and am quite a fan of the fact they have put out such a vast selection of many Japanese authors, but I found this coupling of Kawabata and Inoue a strange editorial decision. I would give the Inoue stories three stars, while The Izu Dancer on its own deserves four stars, in my opinion.
November 16, 2020
I should only take Kawabata's work because it turns out I don't like Inoue, which is funny because this book has four short stories; one from Kawabata, and three from Inoue.
Anyway, Izu Dancer has that "loss feeling without knowing what you lose", like Wild Geese. I'm quite touched by the romance moves in the story.
The counterfeiter from Inoue is fine, but there's rather too much blabbering; Obasute is completely out of the box in which I don't even understand what he's trying to portray (it's just me); and full moon is just unrelatable.
[EDIT]
Apparently I mix the book The Izu Dancer with The Dancing Girl of Izu (which contains 23 short stories).
Anyway, Izu Dancer has that "loss feeling without knowing what you lose", like Wild Geese. I'm quite touched by the romance moves in the story.
The counterfeiter from Inoue is fine, but there's rather too much blabbering; Obasute is completely out of the box in which I don't even understand what he's trying to portray (it's just me); and full moon is just unrelatable.
[EDIT]
Apparently I mix the book The Izu Dancer with The Dancing Girl of Izu (which contains 23 short stories).
June 9, 2024
A disclaimer first. This is not a review. I mean who am I to review the work of all the greats :) .
Quite simply this like all other takes I have on books is just the way the book made me feel.
All the stories are good, it takes you to places and leaves you as a fly on the wall. With the IzU dancer I wanted the story to continue. Obasute - the concept of it made me quite sad. the others 2 stories are well written.
But, I have to say this l liked Snow country much much better than the Izu dancer.
Quite simply this like all other takes I have on books is just the way the book made me feel.
All the stories are good, it takes you to places and leaves you as a fly on the wall. With the IzU dancer I wanted the story to continue. Obasute - the concept of it made me quite sad. the others 2 stories are well written.
But, I have to say this l liked Snow country much much better than the Izu dancer.
December 16, 2023
Decided to read the book after visiting the Izu dancer (伊豆の踊り子) statue in Shimoda. Kawabata's short story was a pleasant read, but I was more surprised by Obasute and the Counterfeit by Yasushi Inoue, being the first time reading anything by author. Even on the last short story, I find myself traveling through the author's eyes, and pinpointing traditions like playing with fireworks or the view of the full moon that still occur today.
May 13, 2012
I have never read Kawabata and thought I would pick this up in advance of a trip to Japan. I read the title story and was captivated.
But the translation felt clunky. So I got another translation, this time just of Kawabata's stories, and the translation felt clunkier still.
See my full review at: http://sillyputtyreview.blogspot.com/...
But the translation felt clunky. So I got another translation, this time just of Kawabata's stories, and the translation felt clunkier still.
See my full review at: http://sillyputtyreview.blogspot.com/...
December 24, 2016
Amidst the most searing hatred of mankind and isolation that crashes like waves on sundry pebbles in graying beaches, the flower of love with blood clots, smears and swaying in the mighty tempest, grows languidly onward.
February 13, 2011
As picturesque as a Kawabata's should be. But I want more.
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