One aspect I had completely forgotten was the use of a female narrator in a few of the stories, something which has not happened (so far) in his novels. However, as is often the case, this time around it was a very different story – I loved this book and discovered some excellent writing, as well as further insights into the writer’s longer works. I had actually read this collection before, and I don’t think I was overly impressed first time around, preferring his novels to the bizarre worlds of his shorter fiction. Where Botchan and I am a Cat poked friendly fun at Japanese society and Kusamakura sparkled with wit and sunshine, Kokoro is much darker, building progressively through the novel to a tragic end, for both Sensei and the narrator.Īnother author whose works cause the slender shelves in my bookcases to groan under their weight (and who himself is a big fan of Sōseki) is Haruki Murakami, and I recently tried another collection of his short stories, entitled The Elephant Vanishes. Kokoro is another wonderfully written novel, poignant and elegant, but different from Sōseki’s earlier works.

As the narrator returns to Tokyo, at a very critical time for his family, he is left to wonder what will await him there… We are told of his family background, his romantic aspirations and (most importantly) we finally learn about his dead friend K. This letter is actually the second of the stories and takes up the latter half of the novel, telling the story of Sensei’s life as a student and clearing up many of the mysteries that have puzzled the narrator. Bored at home, he writes to Sensei constantly without reply until, finally, one day, he receives a letter – a very long, very unusual letter. The narrator is then forced to leave Tokyo, and his friend, behind to return home when his father becomes unwell. After numerous visits to his house, they become friends, but there is always a sense of reserve, something hidden from the narrator’s consciousness, perhaps connected with the monthly visits which Sensei makes to a friend’s grave. The first is that of a young student who makes the acquaintance of an older man he calls Sensei. After reading a few of Natsume Sōseki’s earlier works last year, I recently obtained one of his final novels, Kokoro (translated by Meredith McKinney), an absolute Japanese classic and a standard high-school text back in Japan. The first is a writer who is fast becoming one of those whose entire back catalogue will someday be gracing my shelves.

As promised earlier this week, after the first of my little summaries, here is the second of my J-Lit round-ups, this time featuring a couple of very familiar names…

The wind up bird and tuesday's women