Il paese delle nevi

I am white mostly And cold And occasionally weeping But you don t see my tears for they run down the stream and lose their essence at the prolonged kiss of the first sun But I do not mind I

I am white, mostly. And cold. And occasionally, weeping. But you don’t see my tears, for they run down the stream and lose their essence at the prolonged kiss of the first sun. But I do not mind. I come alive to die; I bulk up to surrender; I appear to vanish. But I, too, have admirers. Admirers, who eye ephemeral beauty with a stinging lacquer of depleting life, colluding their vision with a bagful of clouded vignettes stroking the air that arises after all is consumed and lost. Visiting Japan in 1935, I met Kawabata-san. He whispered in my drifter ears that he wished to nestle a story under my frosty silhouette. I cast a doubtful glance at him and asked: ‘Are you sure? I am no spring and I am no sun. In my lap, tears appear more tenacious than smiles. And in my heart, I imprison love stories that untangle into laborious passion, reverberating in their incomplete destinies of intertwined desires but scattered existences. Your decision to drop your child in my tutelage may mar its chances of gaining an empathetic visitor.’ But he ran his hand on my granular head and said: ‘Be assured; wasted love is still love, after all.’ I eventually agreed to take his characters in my country. So came, Shimamura and Komako, Yoko and Yukio. You don’t need to know who they are since all lovers in my country appear the same. And this Japan was still under the wreck of unequal rights of labour and dignity. But if you insist, I will oblige. Shimamura was groping for new vistas after a regular life had clutched him tight and Komako was a young geisha who equated new horizons to the skyline that inebriated my edges. When I saw them the first time, they were well-equipped to escape my mirthful sorrow. Shimamura was indulgent without emotion and Komako was wishful without goals. But alas! I am such a wretched stage; people step on me and forget the rest. I kept telling them I am the soft soil that sinks with repeated stamping but the duo, perplexed under the hypnotic rhythm of my robust sheets, dripping body and glistening air paid no heed to my cries. Intoxicated, they spent nights under my shadows and burnt lamps to spring reflections in my eyes; they held their rage and admiration under the chilling blanket I sent their way; they fought their jealousies when I subdued to let the sun cast a scarlet veil on Yoko, the lovely girl who never got bewitched under my spell and they darted viscous glances through my flakes at each pondering pause, rippled from Yukio’s disintegration. Both returned at my every appearance like faithful regulars but the unfulfilled rooms of their lives refused to open to a common hall. Whether other people tricked them into acts they did not intend to commit? I am afraid not. I suspect when I melt, I steal a part of those who hold me in their eyes; and at each return, I bind the stolen things in threads of melancholy despite my intention to dye them in colors of happiness. I can’t help it; my whiteness, under nature’s exponents of aggravation, assimilates all spunk and disperses a reeling blankness unmatched by any buoyant avalanche.But Kawabata-san was a mature man; for when he placed his characters in my world, he also slipped many lyrical skates bearing the mark of mono no aware, handing a robust sailing to his creations and effectively annulling the threats posed by the steep boulders of unrequited love, unfathomable concern, unstoppable heartbeats and unmanageable bonds, compounded further under the burden of my heavy, stoic breathing. He won my heart by comprehending the little corners of my country with a sagacity comparable to someone born in my womb and chiseled them gently to accentuate their hidden beauties. So, the next time someone alights from a rickety train on a faint evening into a land bearing my stamp for as far as the eyes go, he will extend his arms in anticipation of an embrace that will not congeal his thoughts but would set them in riveting motion, softly swaying them in the gust of impermanent realities and navigating them into the warm kotatsu of permanent memoirs.The best Il paese delle nevi By Yasunari Kawabata Luca Lamberti are Ebook Nel conferirgli il premio Nobel per il 1968, l Accademia di Svezia ha riconosciuto a Yasunari Kawabata magistrali doti di narratore che esprimono con grande sensibilit l essenza dell anima giapponese Il libro che qui presentiamo e che stato anche il suo primo ad esser tradotto in italiano considerato un capolavoro di finezza psicologica e stilistica Scritto neNel conferirgli il premio Nobel per il 1968, l Accademia di Svezia ha riconosciuto a Yasunari Kawabata magistrali doti di narratore che esprimono con grande sensibilit l essenza dell anima giapponese Il libro che qui presentiamo e che stato anche il suo primo ad esser tradotto in italiano considerato un capolavoro di finezza psicologica e stilistica Scritto nel 1934, ma completato solo nel 1947, mostra al suo meglio l arte sottile di Kawabata, poeta dei sentimenti che innesta sulla linea classica dei poemi seicenteschi del suo paese le suggestioni che gli vengono da una appassionata frequentazione della cultura occidentale Il paese delle nevi il paradiso terrestre sulla costa occidentale della maggior isola del Giappone, dove la neve alta quindici piedi, e sorgono terme squisite, e delicati luoghi di villeggiatura In questa scena si dipana la storia di Shimamura, ricco e raffinato esteta, e di Komako, geisha delle terme Komako fa parte di una categoria di geishe assai diverssa da quella che abita la citt le cortigiane del paese delle nevi non potranno mai diventare famose musiciste o danzatrici, penetrere tra le quinte della politica o degli affari il loro destino quello di maturare tra gli incanti e la corruzione del paradiso , perpetuamente dedite ai signori che, secondo la tradizione, salgono alle terme per trovarvi il riposo perfetto L incontro di Shimamura e Komako dunque un incontro d a, ma da esso non nascer che un gioco di trasporti continuamente trattenuti, rinfocolati, destinati a svanire, in un paesaggio di sogno, dove le chiacchiere discrete degli alberghi e la ricerca della bellezza costituiscono un ricamo ripetuto, sempre fascinosamente elusivo.. Yasunari Kawabata 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.Nobel Lecture 1968nobelprize nobel_prize. A viral Kindle Il paese delle nevi Shimamura gets on a train to dreamland. He escapes from the urbanity of Tokyo, from the grayish routine, the dull marriage, the mediocre reality that leaves him numb and empty in search of the purest expression of his desires. He is a dilettante, an expert aesthetician who knows that beauty lingers in memory of times past, on the glint of two sad eyes sparkling in a pale face, in a head tilted at a certain angle, in fragrances and sounds and the noiseless rippling waves that assimilate a caress.Who hasn’t wanted to run away from daily life?Who hasn’t felt the exhilaration of being driven away into distant lands, to new beginnings and comfortable anonimity?In the rural areas of Japan, there is a place called Snow Country. A place where ancient tradition and sheer pleasure are bound together, taking the shape of a young geisha called Komako. No longer a girl but still not a woman, she loves with passionate abandon, making herself vulnerable to her own emotions.Who hasn’t loved someone knowing the story is over before it even started?Who hasn’t given free rein to imagination and switched the shipwreck of today for the groundless hope of a future with the person who consistently neglects us?Shimamura goes back to the Snow Country, to this world of fantasy, expecting to be reunited with young Komako, whose inexperience attracts and repulses him at once. What he can’t expect is that an enigmatic woman called Yoko will disturb the imperfect balance of his universe and create silent havoc without uttering a word. Her silent presence, the contour of her features and the ominous aura that shrouds her; she presents a gateway to the pinnacle of artistic expression.Kawabata paints his story rather than writing it. He is an extremely punctilious imagist who uses his brush with ruthless suavity. Shorts sentences that never falter but flow in a torrent of the simple and the quotidian transformed into pearls of absolute beauty. The reflection of a graceful face on a train window that fuses with the one of the surreptitious voyeur in a backdrop varnished in white, the thunderous calm of a winter night that is as cold and detached as Shimamura’s disregard for Komako’s utter surrender of body and soul, a landscape covered in perennial snow that mimics the protagonist’s stagnation and the geisha’s “wasted efforts” to melt the frostiness with her ardent submission. There isn’t a single image that doesn’t evoke the evanescent nature of human feelings.This is the sort of quiet novella that grows on you. The characters appear withdrawn on the surface with unexpressive, porcelain countenances, but deep down, they burn inwardly, their hearts are ablaze with the ongoing progression of the many births and deaths inherent in the changing of the seasons, echoing the idea of eternity in ceaceless movement.Much is revelead in things left unsaid, lingering glances and bodies floating in limbo, halfway between heaven and earth. The rest is up to the imagination.Kawabata’s prose is as suggestive as it is devastating, it tantalizes, it provokes, it stings with painful lyricism. His voice is a whisper in a world that only shouts and replaces the background noise with words that contain it all, the gift of life, the tragedy of death and the interdependent wholeness of both.

  1. Yasunari Kawabata 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.Nobel Lecture 1968nobelprize nobel_prize

576 Reply to “Il paese delle nevi”

  1. Shimamura gets on a train to dreamland He escapes from the urbanity of Tokyo, from the grayish routine, the dull marriage, the mediocre reality that leaves him numb and empty in search of the purest expression of his desires He is a dilettante, an expert aesthetician who knows that beauty lingers in memory of times past, on the glint of two sad eyes sparkling in a pale face, in a head tilted at a certain angle, in fragrances and sounds and the noiseless rippling waves that assimilate a caress.Wh [...]


  2. If you like a ski read instead of a beach read, this is for you The setting is the western mountain slopes of northern Japan, one of the snowiest regions of the world up to 15 feet of winter snow is common In the town, the overhangs of buildings over the sidewalks form a tunnel through the snow in winter.We are told in the translator s Introduction that the snow country geisha catering to the ski lodge and hot spring clientele in winter are second class geisha compared to the urban geisha in Jap [...]


  3. I am white, mostly And cold And occasionally, weeping But you don t see my tears, for they run down the stream and lose their essence at the prolonged kiss of the first sun But I do not mind I come alive to die I bulk up to surrender I appear to vanish But I, too, have admirers Admirers, who eye ephemeral beauty with a stinging lacquer of depleting life, colluding their vision with a bagful of clouded vignettes stroking the air that arises after all is consumed and lost Visiting Japan in 1935, I [...]


  4. turn this way I too feel lonelylate in autumn Basho s Haiku As if on a winter s night a traveler, travels to a distant land, where the snow falls even on the maple leaves Where lovers part to meet and meet to part Where love is nothing but a mirrored reality or a fogged illusion Where one heart has room only for the pleasure of regaining what had been lost and another voice is so beautiful that it s almost lonely and sad Where some deaths are tiny but invoke immense poetry and several lives stru [...]


  5. Shimamura s Tale Part IThe Milky WaySits high aboveMountain country,IlluminatingVillages below.Stardust falls Earthbound, Until, frozen,It becomesWhite snowflakesThat shroud the ground,Two meters deep.My hands reach outTowards the winter sky,Hoping I might catch A star in each hand.For a moment,They re in my grasp.I adore themLike they re loversThat I can keep.My desire doesn t Require thatI make a choice.Sometimes, it s true, You can have both.But the angry fire In my selfish heartMelts my lovi [...]


  6. New love is as delicate as the wings of a moth I try to write but the words disintegrate between my fingertips They melt like snow on my tongue Maybe a light breeze could carry them across the ocean and drop them at your feet They will slip through your fingers like sand They will drift through the air like dandelion wishes.New love is as fleeting as the blossoms of an almond tree.The words might cut you like the sharp edge of this paper The tiny cuts will sting They buzz around your ear but you [...]


  7. Never have I had such intense desire to prolong a novel, not until I read this I am a man of literature It is in my blood to have the highest respect for the writer and to consider the work sacred, thus I never impose my will on the material even if the end is left open for the imagination to play upon I purposely hold myself back and stop where the cliff ends, I do not take the leap into the unknown abyss However today I find the exception Today I jumped Forgive me I am a weak man, a man now co [...]


  8. Steeped in Japanese tradition Nobel prize winner Yasunari Kawabata has created something almost otherworldly, like it belongs in a completely different time and place Shimamura travels from the city to a village in the snowy mountains, and while in the company of a young rural geisha called Komako a strange love blossoms, but bound to the rules of the geisha Komako struggles with her emotions towards him and there is always a sense that sadness lingers The snowy setting really captures the imagi [...]


  9. Rating 3.5 of fiveThe Publisher Says Nobel Prize winner Yasunari Kawabata s Snow Country is widely considered to be the writer s masterpiece a powerful tale of wasted love set amid the desolate beauty of western Japan.At an isolated mountain hot spring, with snow blanketing every surface, Shimamura, a wealthy dilettante meets Komako, a lowly geisha She gives herself to him fully and without remorse, despite knowing that their passion cannot last and that the affair can have only one outcome In c [...]


  10. Snow Country is one exquisite read It should be on every classics list, and bump a couple of dead Americans or Englishmen to make room near the top of the top 100 books you must read to be deemed educated Two tips First, I recommend that you not do what I did, and read it over a period of 2 weeks 20 pages here, 12 pages there I didn t do service to it And still 5 stars Second, I recommend that you read these two friends reviews because they also are exquisite and tell you everything you need to [...]


  11. An image of a young woman reflected in the window of a train A man watches her Snow Country opens with a strange, beautiful scene which sets up the story, and leaves hints at what is to follow, A woman s eye floated up before him He almost called out in his astonishment But he had been dreaming, and when he came to himself he saw that it was only the reflection in the window of the girl opposite Outside it was growing dark, and the lights had been turned on in the train, transforming the window [...]


  12. Gray, the color of loneliness and dissatisfaction, of a heart torn by guilt and shame Long, gray winters and snow covered mountains, snow as high as his knees, snow to bury his secret rendezvous Gray, the color a person sees, when he thinks the grass is greener elsewhere Black and white forms gray in Kawabata s fictional creation, where the mountains are black, but brilliant with the color of the snow Perhaps gray is the color of unrequited love, or of wasted effort He was conscious of an emptin [...]


  13. ButterfliesAmusing the lotus pondA child s delight.Butterflies dab my tears and lotuses kiss my heart As a child, I used to spend hours gazing the dainty beauties as they flirted with the boisterous flowers Amid my hearty giggles, the soft buttery wings browsed my cheeks for a pink watermark I sought to embrace these coquettish insects as I sat on the wet grass As I lifted one from its flowering sojourn and laid it on my palms, my eyes lit like the time my mother cuddled me after a bad school da [...]


  14. The snow is that deep They say that in the next town up the line the schoolchildren jump naked from the second floor of the dormitory They sink out of sight in the snow, and they move around under it as though they were swimming A train rushes into the evening, away from the city, toward a distant country, over the mountains, where winter snows are so high people dig tunnels to move from one side of the street to the other and telegraph poles are buried right up to the wires Here are hot springs [...]



  15. I read the other reviews of Snow Country before I read the book I m nervous to look at any right now, before I begin writing my own review erm technically I m writing it right now It s like when you mishear lyrics in a song and find out the line that killed you wasn t what they were singing at all Lights turned on and it s not as beautiful when it s the real world in day time So the introductions I ve read I didn t read Snow Country as a love triangle I don t want to Yukio Mishima s introductio [...]


  16. Bash s evocative haiku is referenced by the end of the book, as one of the characters contemplates small drops of fire that, in contrast to the quiet atmosphere of a country made of snow, were floating in the air, ablaze with fury and disenchantment, sheltered by the absolute splendour of the Milky Way The sublimeness of a firmament under which existence manifests itself in the shape of beauty and sadness As always, Bash depicted an entire universe in three lines Trifling matters and existential [...]


  17. I view Asian Art through Western eyes Not that I have a choice, I guess That process enhances, even as it limits.I love the beauty, the intricacy of Japanese woodblock prints, but I fear I m seeing them superficially Am I missing something, I wonder, if only a nuance And Murakami Even though his works owe much to Bulgakov and The Beatles, there is a descent from Japanese forerunners and the history and culture of those islands that probably okay, certainly eludes me.Once an artist hits send thou [...]


  18. A metaphor of rotting and unappreciated beauty Deep in the frozen reaches of the Snow Country a Geisha waits out her days for a man who would give her a life of love and dignity that she believes is her right.Geishas in the Japanese society were connoisseurs of culture and art they exerted political influence through their patrons they decided the fates of people who desired their services they made and broke marriages they were a soft power centre in the Japanese society.But in the backwater of [...]


  19. This is the story of three different trips by Shimamura up into the Snow Country of Japan Each trip occurs in a different season, and each in turn reflects his deepening involvement with a country geisha in a small village While journeying by train there for his second visit he is struck by the beauty of a fellow passenger who by chance is traveling to the same village As Shimamura gets deeply involved, at least physically, with the geisha, he remains deeply intrigued by the other woman Her dis [...]


  20. In slow motion until the point of contact, this novella quite simply and mercilessly spends its energy reserves back handing you with the its last few pages I am getting ahead of myself, but it is important that you know this fact I hear a lot of trash talked on Japanese novels and films from time to time excluding those centering on martial arts, of course , of how they are slow, simple, boring, plotless, and where are the explosions, anyway WellFirst off, I think that s a lot of hooey Doesn t [...]



  21. In the depths of the mirror the evening landscape moved by, the mirror and the reflected figures like motion pictures superimposed one on the other The figures and the background were unrelated, and yet the figures, transparent and intangible, and the background, dim in the gathering darkness, melted together into a sort of symbolic world not of this world Particularly when a light out in the mountains shone in the center of the girl s face, Shimamura felt his chest rise at the inexpressible bea [...]


  22. Mt Fuji, Japan It was a stern night landscape The sound of the freezing of snow over the land seemed to roar deep into the earth There was no moon The stars, almost too many to be true, came forward so brightly that it was as if they were falling with the swiftness of the void Snow Country has one of the most beautifully descriptive proses I ve read It is a lot like the snow it spends so much time on an intrinsic feeling of purity and truth runs in Kawabata s words, and the picture the Nobel win [...]


  23. Primeiro fui atra do pela capa, depois pelo autor e o seu nobel As primeiras p ginas n o me inspiraram, passei para outros livros, entretanto o local e o ambiente, a terra de neve, n o se descolavam da minha ideia, por isso resolvi voltar a ele A Terra de Neve n o um livro f cil, porque n o muito acess vel a ocidentais O livro relata uma realidade muito pr pria do Jap o e nos anos 1940 De modo que temos de aceitar que a nossa leitura dificilmente poder assimilar todos, ou uma grande parte, dos s [...]


  24. Most of my friends from Kerala would be familiar with the film Thoovanathumbikal by the famous Malayalam writer and director P Padmarajan The film narrates the story of the love of a young man about town, Jayakrishnan, for two girls Radha, a prim and proper Indian miss and Clara, a prostitute Padmarajan uses the two women as symbols for two facets of femininity and therefore, of life one light and chaste and the other dark and mysterious I was reminded of this movie all the time while reading Th [...]


  25. at tosh s prodding i d been on something of a japanese kick in 07, burned through mishima, dazai, tanizaki, murakami, etc when deciding which kawabata to tackle, charles forwarded an interview in which vollmann mentioned snow country as in his all time top ten well, i read it on the flight from florida to california and stumbled off that plane utterly totally flattened snow country whew snow country sad and enigmatic and spare and packed with some of the most odd lyrical images i ve ever read i [...]


  26. But even than at the diary, Shimamura was surprised at her statement that she had carefully catalogued every novel and short story she had read since she was fifteen or sixteen The record already filled ten notebooks You write down your criticisms, do you I could never do anything like that I just write down the author and the characters and how they are related to each other That is about all But what good does it do None at all A waste of effort Wait a minute That can t be true about eh He kn [...]


  27. The impending and daunting snow to come Kavan hovers as a dark and bleak foreshadowing The vital girl he sees as unmarried but with the train moving now appears only as a reflection in the window across She is tending to an ashen man Drifting into sleep the woman he is traveling to visit is hardly seen at all She is reduced to a view of an eye on the misted window Everything is remarking a distance he experiences the world from, and a creeping shadow of death My initial impressions of what is re [...]


  28. At first I found it difficult to know where to put this book and what to expect from it We have three main characters a well off, cultured, married middle age man who travels from Tokyo to the Snow Country a remote hot springs village in the far North and its surrounding the man then meets a young woman who later becomes a geisha due to livelihood problems and the two of them develop a relationship almost instantly As time pasts and seasons change, the middle age man travels to the Snow Country [...]


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