Lake

According to Donald Keene, The Lake (Mizuumi), and The House of Sleeping Beauties, represent Kawabata Yasunari at his most mature. It is not as well known as Snow Country but it is revelant today. Especially with the news showing countless stories of young girls being abducted by creepy looking pedohilies who become registered sex offenders. The Lake is a novel about the middle aged former school teacher named Gimpei, who spends his days stalking various women. Kawabata could judge his character but he shows a great deal of tact by painting a human portrait that allows the reader to make up their own mind. I like the fact that he's not preaching morals in this book. The novel's strength is the way inwhich Kawabata uses time to move between periods of Gimpei's past. Kawabata does this so subtle and skillfully that, as a reader, you aren't really aware of it but you know that you have left the present for the moment. It is also interesting how Kawabata uses different colors through the text to create visuals that you can picture as you read along. I like the associations that exist in Gimpei's mind that show how far from reality he really is. For instance, a baby is crawling near him and he thinks its a dead baby that he abandoned years ago. This shows Kawabata's skill in writing psychological fiction. There are others examples of how Gimpei thinks he sees something that in reality turns out to be nothing to him but it causes Gimpei's mind to relate to objects and surroundings and regress into his past. In fact the whole novel is a regression into a happier time for Gimpei when he first fell in love at the lake. Overall this is an entertaining and quick read that shows how one character decides to view his own reality which lead to his reaction to it. Gimpei is strange when you get inside his head to see what's clicking. This is my first time reading Kawabata and next up for me is The Scarlet Gang of Asakusa.

Compellingly written by Yasunari Kawabata (the author of the classic "Snow Country" and Japan's first winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature), The Lake is the story of a stalker. He is homeless, fugitive from an unknown crime, and driven to trail the women he meets as he wanders. He longs for their beauty yet his desire remains unconsumated. The hallmark of free association that allows the reader to speculate upon human minds and motives is prevalent in "The Lake", a narrative that circulates back time and again to the body of water that forms its name and the people who live alongside it. Very highly recomended reading, The Lake is a rich literary experience penned with whetted description and passion.

Lakes are mysteries, dark bodies of water that swallow secrets and hide those parts of ourselves better left submerged. Bodies are dumped in lakes, along with stolen cars and used weapons of violence. In "The Lake," Kawabata has used this metaphor for his protagonist, the unsettled and possibly psychotic Gimpei Momoi, who's mind swirls past and present and make-believe into one massive body of water, under which the corpse of his father lies sleeping. It is hard to spend 160-odd pages in the mind of Gimpei, stalker and luster of young girls. His story fluxuates constantly, changing in an instant from his childhood desire for his cousin Yayoi, to his disastrous affair with his High School student Hisako, to his pursuit of the pure 15-year old Machie, or the bath house girl with the voice of an angel. Interspersed roughly with this mix is the tale of Miyako, a sad beauty who sold her youth to an old man for money. Gimpei's thoughts are those of his nature, a dark and lonely pursuer navigating the unlit corners and ditches of other's worlds, a dangerous and haggard animal prowling the fence. Kawabata's technique used in "The Lake" is quite experimental, and different from his more-famous works. Aside from the dark story, elements of which can be found in most Kawabata, the shifting narrative and abrupt transitions and endings can be off-putting to those expecting a more naturally flowing story. Personally, I found the jump-cuts and unresolved nature of the writing to be complementary to the tale of Gimpei, with the overall effect leaving me uncomfortable and uneasy with the world, which is the stories goal.

Another of Kawabata's masterpieces, The Lake is even less structured than his other work. Told through a series of shifting narrators, the story mainly concerns Gimpei, on the run from the law for an unknown crime. We become intimately acquainted with Gimpei, who turns out to be a real creep: he spends most of his time following beautiful women. Though flashbacks that are carefully woven in to the narrative, we learn Gimpei past: his unrequited love for his cousin Yayori, his destructive affair with his student Hisako, and his possessive madness - he would rather have the objects of his affection dead than with another. The books shifts it's focus slightly at times, turning to the people who come into contact with Gimpei, and revealing how closely connected they all are without even realizing it. It is this tangled web of relationships, both direct and indirect, that make this work so enjoyable. A wonderful book, although some readers may find the character of Gimpei so repugnant that they may abandon the book before it's finish.

I have read other books by Kawabata and "The Lake" is generally not considered one of his best works but this was the one that had the most effect on me. It stayed with me like a pleasant sunny afternoon that suddenly erupts into rain or an acquaintance that reveals a disturbing side to their personality. Make no mistake. This is a shocking book made even more so by the relaxed Knut Hamsun-style narrative tone and the sensuality of the natural world surrounding the characters (more on display in "Snow Country"). Like Henry Miller with a conscience, Kawabata tells the story of sad, perverse, complex schoolteacher Gimpei with a tone that most reminds me of "Victoria" by Hamsun. The relationship between him and his female student Hisako is memorable. What I most liked is the author's refusal to cop out and produce a neat, conventional ending. Nothing is resolved (as it should be).