Natsuko Matsuura is headstrong, beautiful and determined to live a life beyond the ordinary. Disappointed again and again by the drearily conventional men on the Tokyo dating scene, she decides to renounce marriage altogether and join a convent in faraway Hokkaido. Setting off with her grandmother, mother and aunt, she readies herself for a nun’s life. But her journey is derailed when she meets Tsuyoshi Ida, a fiery young man with sparkling eyes and a score to settle; with a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder, he’s tracking a bear through the forests of Hokkaido, seeking vengeance for the death of his former girlfriend. Thinking she may at last have met a man who shares her sense of adventure, Natsuko flees her anxious guardians and joins the hunt, with more than a bear in her sights . . .
Written in 1951 and translated into English for the very first time, The Adventures of Natsuko shows Mishima at his comic best, in an anti-fairy tale for the modern era.
Yukio Mishima (三島 由紀夫) was born in Tokyo in 1925. He graduated from Tokyo Imperial University’s School of Jurisprudence in 1947. His first published book, The Forest in Full Bloom, appeared in 1944 and he established himself as a major author with Confessions of a Mask (1949). From then until his death he continued to publish novels, short stories, and plays each year. His crowning achievement, the Sea of Fertility tetralogy—which contains the novels Spring Snow (1969), Runaway Horses (1969), The Temple of Dawn (1970), and The Decay of the Angel (1971)—is considered one of the definitive works of twentieth-century Japanese fiction. In 1970, at the age of forty-five and the day after completing the last novel in the Fertility series, Mishima committed seppuku (ritual suicide)—a spectacular death that attracted worldwide attention.
“Natsuko's cheeks suddenly reddened when she recalled the dream she had during the night. She dreamed that the young man she glimpsed at the station with a hunting gun slung over his shoulder had mistaken his own berth for hers, and climbed in.” . I’m not sure where to really begin with this review. I went into this book knowing very little and expecting all the themes that Mishima enthuses in his writing. This is where I often struggle with his writing, or more precisely, with his political stance. For Mishima’s gift with writing is obvious, but often that beauty is suffused with an underlying darkness of nationalism. His political views often come through in various themes that occasionally make for an uncomfortable read. Even more so when you think about his unfortunate and very public death. . So I went into this with some trepidation. What I soon realized was that this feels very, very different from all of his other books. You can see in this early Mishima novel, like the budding of tulips breaking through the soil, his themes that would come to the fore in his later books: repression, eroticism and beauty. You get the hint of these themes, especially eroticism, with much polishing of gun barrels and stolen looks at a heaving bosom. There is also, to my surprise, much humour. It feels absurd, almost a slapstick caper. . Natsuko wants to live life her own way. Frustrated that society expects her to settle down with men, Natsuko views them as soulless, dead behind the eyes, boring men who want nothing more than a staid life with a wife at home. Natsuko wants a man who has a passion beyond work, who isn’t boring, who can challenge her. It is the hunt of a man-eating bear that brings Natsuko to a man she believes will live up to her desires. It is a faintly ridiculous plot, and while it is an adventure in a way, I much prefer the Japanese title 愛の渇き – Thirst for Love. . Natsuko almost felt a bit unbelievable, not in the sense of her desire to break free from the social norms, but that she felt a touch one-dimensional. Her focus on living a life true to herself led her to some odd and difficult decisions. I think a later Mishima would probably have rounded her out a bit more, but you can’t help feeling some admiration for Natsuko getting to grips with the absurdity of her existence. Then I do wonder about whether she really thirsted for love or more just a thirst for a fulfilled life. She didn’t strike me as a character who fell in love easily, and in fact, the lack of any suitable options led her on a wild bear hunt, both figuratively and literally. Throughout the book, there’s an undertone of repressed desires; it runs through the book like a seam of eroticism, from the nighttime fumbles to the stolen glances. I think I was expecting something to happen, or a bit more depth, that in the end wasn’t there. . There’s a lot to like about this. I liked it, but perhaps wasn’t entirely taken by it. Thanks to Penguin for the advanced copy.