Read more
Zusatztext “Beautifully economical. . . . The haiku works entirely by implication; so! in this novel! using the same delicate! glancing technique! Mr. Kawabata probes a complicated human relationship.” — The Time Literary Supplement (London) “Kawabata’s novels are among the most affecting and original works of our time.” — The New York Times Book Review Informationen zum Autor YASUNARI KAWABATA was born in Osaka in 1899. In 1968 he became the first Japanese writer to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature. One of Japan’s most distinguished novelists, he published his first stories while he was still in high school, graduating from Tokyo Imperial University in 1924. His short story “The Izu Dancer,” first published in 1925, appeared in The Atlantic Monthly in 1955. Kawabata authored numerous novels, including Snow Country (1956), which cemented his reputation as one of the preeminent voices of his time, as well as Thousand Cranes (1959), The Sound of the Mountain (1970), The Master of Go (1972), and Beauty and Sadness (1975). He served as the chairman of the P.E.N. Club of Japan for several years and in 1959 he was awarded the Goethe-medal in Frankfurt. Kawabata died in 1972. Klappentext 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 chronicling the course of this doomed romance, Kawabata has created a story for the ages - a stunning novel dense in implication and exalting in its sadness.PART ONE THE TRAIN came out of the long tunnel into the snow country. The earth lay white under the night sky. The train pulled up at a signal stop. A girl who had been sitting on the other side of the car came over and opened the window in front of Shimamura. The snowy cold poured in. Leaning far out the window, the girl called to the station master as though he were a great distance away. The station master walked slowly over the snow, a lantern in his hand. His face was buried to the nose in a muffler, and the flaps of his cap were turned down over his ears. It’s that cold, is it, thought Shimamura. Low, barracklike buildings that might have been railway dormitories were scattered here and there up the frozen slope of the mountain. The white of the snow fell away into the darkness some distance before it reached them. “How are you?” the girl called out. “It’s Yoko.” “Yoko, is it. On your way back? It’s gotten cold again.” “I understand my brother has come to work here. Thank you for all you’ve done.” “It will be lonely, though. This is no place for a young boy.” “He’s really no more than a child. You’ll teach him what he needs to know, won’t you.” “Oh, but he’s doing very well. We’ll be busier from now on, with the snow and all. Last year we had so much that the trains were always being stopped by avalanches, and the whole town was kept busy cooking for them.” “But look at the warm clothes, would you. My brother said in his letter that he wasn’t even wearing a sweater yet.” “I’m not warm unless I have on four layers, myself. The young ones start drinking when it gets cold, and the first thing you know they’re over there in bed with colds.” He waved his lantern toward the dormitories. “Does my brother drink?” “Not that I know of.” “You’re on your way home now, are you?” “I had a little accident. I’ve been going to the doctor.” “You must b...
