Aoi Bungaku: Kokoro
Feb. 2nd, 2011 01:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foxinthestarsOkay, the kicking and screaming at last is done, got it watched, so now I can turn in the review---with a couple of bonuses.
This was episodes 7&8 of Aoi Bungaku, the adaptation of Kokoro by Natsume Soseki. Now, I can't track down a reliable source to back it up, but I'm under the impression that Kokoro is seen as the great modern Japanese novel, like it's the "The Great Gatsby" of Japan or something. There's a new translation out that I would be interested to get a look at, but I read the old one by Edwin McClellan, which in a rare gift from the content gods is available online---yes, the whole book in English (AFAIK I will only be able to offer an English translation one more time). If anyone would like a look at the original Japanese, it's here at Aozora Bunko.
After reading the novel, I would say it lives up to the reputation I think it has. Here we don't find the debauchery and wry, dark whimsy of Dazai; Kokoro is very straightforward, deceptively simple and understated in style. Indeed it took me awhile to get into it as it starts slowly, but I eventually got involved in it, and looking back over it after finishing was when I realized just how much was going on in it. Set at the very end of the Meiji Era (the very end; the Emperor is on his deathbed), it is narrated by an unnamed university student in Tokyo who befriends an older man whom he calls "Sensei." Although Sensei is melancholy and reclusive, the narrator finds him compelling, and the first part of the book establishes their relationship, and Sensei's should-be-happy-but-isn't-quite marriage with his wife Shizu (the only character the book names); he has some secret that weighs on him heavily and which not even his wife knows. In the second part, after the narrator's graduation, he is called home to the sickbed of his dying father and to his parents' questions about his future and failure to understand his relationship with Sensei. Then comes the news of Emperor Meiji's death, the honor-suicide of one of his generals, and finally a long letter from Sensei that tears the narrator away even from his father's deathbed. This letter is the third section and takes up half the book; Sensei at last reveals his past. In his own college days, a dispute over his inheritance instilled a basic distrust of people in him. Later, he met Shizu as the daughter of his landlady. When he brought a close friend, a semi-ascetic idealist whom he calls "K" in the letter, to lodge with them, he meant it as a favor, but soon began to view K with suspicion and jealousy---brought to a crisis point when K confessed his own love for Shizu, and the agonizing conflict between it and his spiritual ideals. Sensei, keeping his own feelings to himself, took advantage to undercut K and pressed his suit behind his friend's back, not so much out of wickedness as weakness, and before he could make amends, K committed suicide. This was the dark secret that haunted him for the rest of his life, not only in guilt, but in the realization that he himself was as untrustworthy as he had found the rest of humanity. Events surrounding the death of Emperor Meiji had spurred him at last to take his own life, and the letter was his explanation, sent to his only friend.
The novel boldly but effectively leaves things hanging right there (Sensei had posted a suicide note and the narrator had left his father's bedside and jumped on a train to Tokyo; actually showing the implicit tragedy wouldn't have added anything, but at the same time it's still up in the air when you think about it). Threading through this story are themes about disconnection and the end of eras within lives, between generations, and in whole societies, and also about the collision of idea(l)s and reality---K essentially killed by too much integrity, Sensei by too little. Deceptively understated, satisfyingly rich.
As you can tell I liked the novel, the anime not so much. Mind, the pages-per-episode metric is highly imprecise (page density varying across different books and such), but it amuses me, and with Kokoro it spikes to its all-time high of 125, except that the effective number is more like 65---with the twist that it's the same 65 pages in each episode. Yes, they lopped off three quarters of the book and butchered what was left---twice.
The anime concerns itself only with the love triangle part of the flashback, from K moving in to his suicide, and tells the story twice; the first version, "Summer," is from Sensei's viewpoint, and the second, "Winter," from K's viewpoint, and each one takes place in the eponymous season, among other conflicts of facts---so yes, these people are even more confused than the cast of In a Grove/Rashomon. That would be forgiveable or even an interesting effect if the versions were good or did the book any justice, but they aren't and they don't. They take the book's one sensitive and ambivalent account and split it into two horribly one-sided ones, neither of which is nearly half as good. In the first half, which shares Sensei's viewpoint with the book, K is dehumanized and threatening. I realized they'd butchered it about fifteen minutes in when Sensei and K have a direct, rancorous confrontation in a way that did not and could not happen in the book, where Sensei felt more genuine friendship and admiration toward K and became the villain because he didn't have the guts for something like that. The second half wasn't as painful as I expected (given, I was expecting something on the order of a root canal by then), and in its better treament of K is in some ways a corrective and truer to the book than the first half, but it's nearly as one-sided in villifying Sensei, and invents Shizu sleeping with K and asking him to elope with her---which again, did not and could not in the book. In both parts, K's suicide is tied more completely to the love triangle and his struggle with his ideals is neglected as a factor, Shizu has a more obvious favorite than in the book, her mother is played as a scheming stepford smiler, and, well, K looks like that (shirtless). Smaller details would be forgivable but contribute to the pattern of fail---K has that wild mane where the book described his hair as "close-cropped" and Shizu's hair has a fringe where it was specifically described as being too old-fashioned for that. Also the book's avoidance of proper names (even Shizu is only named like once and usually just called "Sensei's wife" or in the past context "Ojosan") comes across very awkwardly; K is literally addressed as K, and the excuse for Sensei to be addressed that way was notably flimsy. There are times when it used some interesting effects to convey emotion and such, but when the emotion thus conveyed was so off the mark? Yeah. I had my issues with "No Longer Human," but this is the first part of Aoi Bungaku I would file under "it's bad and I hate it." Hopefully it will be the only one...
I should also mention, I just recently found the series' TVtropes page, and according to it they got big-name manga artists to do the character designs, and so I find out just why I thought they were going for the Takeshi Obata look on "No Longer Human" and on this one---I was wrong; they went straight for Takeshi Obata! God, first Death Note, then Castlevania: Judgment, now this... I hate that guy more and more---and when you look at K, you know who to blame.
As mentioned during the kicking and screaming, this was so bad that I needed a bribe to get through it and/or some candy to feel better after, so I was a naughty girl and went torrent-fishing (hey, it's not like it's a legal copy of Aoi Bungaku I've got either), and got another adaptation of Kokoro, the 1955 live action version directed by Ichikawa Kon, subtitled in English and released in the UK under the Masters of Cinema label---and you get a mini-review of it as an extra bonus (this also will happen at least one more time---see PS).
For a fan of vintage J-cinema who liked the book, this one did live up to its role as consolation candy. With two hours to stretch out in and no stupid tarting up or chicanery, it's a pretty faithful adaptation. I appreciated that it confronted one issue head-on and just gave everybody names: the narrator is Hioki, Sensei is Nobuchi, and K is Kaji. A few minor changes punch up the drama a bit (it adds a significance to the first time Hioki and Sensei meet), but they're pretty effective. I do have nits to pick, some of which are fairly minor---the music doesn't know how not to sound threatening, but it doesn't show up that often; the same actors were kept in both timeframes, and particularly Sensei ends up looking like a 40-year-old college student in the flashbacks, where he would also sometimes pout a bit ridiculously. The biggest problem I see mostly concerns the love triangle part of the flashback, at which we're kept more distant from Sensei and don't have the crucial insight into the emotions behind his behavior. In places like this, the movie indeed might suffer if you haven't read the book. One thing, however, I actually appreciated in comparison to the original: Shizu comes across with more independent presence (and her mother might still be scheming, but in a lovable kind of way). The movie also takes one step past the book, but only one; we see Hioki arrive back in Tokyo and find Shizu mourning Sensei's death, and the movie ends on him lamenting that he didn't have the strength to save his friend---I don't really consider this addition good or bad, and the way the movie had built toward the ending, it probably needed it. In sum, this one isn't quite as good as the book---especially, I imagine, if you haven't read the book---but a movie isn't likely to come much closer. I'd say it's a good movie and a good adaptation; if you want to watch Kokoro, this is the way to do it.
PS: Long ago I mentioned that my copy of Kokoro had been thoroughly written in by someone who was probably forced to read it in college. I didn't read their notes more than I could help it, but you can't help it some. The most head-shaking part was how long it apparently took them to realize that the narrator changed for part three, Sensei's letter and flashback; I can hardly imagine what they thought was going on. They did have an actually insighful moment, though, noting that when the original narrator gets the letter and runs off to Tokyo, he's choosing Sensei over his own father in the pinch.
PS re Bonus Movie reviews: I put this one in at the last minute, but I also have another anime adaptation of Run, Melos! that I plan to review as a bonus. I could get one for Hell Screen, too---the one with Tatsuya Nakadai; I saw it years ago but I'd have to get it again. I don't know if I'd bother with it on my own, but if anybody would like me to include it, I will.
This was episodes 7&8 of Aoi Bungaku, the adaptation of Kokoro by Natsume Soseki. Now, I can't track down a reliable source to back it up, but I'm under the impression that Kokoro is seen as the great modern Japanese novel, like it's the "The Great Gatsby" of Japan or something. There's a new translation out that I would be interested to get a look at, but I read the old one by Edwin McClellan, which in a rare gift from the content gods is available online---yes, the whole book in English (AFAIK I will only be able to offer an English translation one more time). If anyone would like a look at the original Japanese, it's here at Aozora Bunko.
After reading the novel, I would say it lives up to the reputation I think it has. Here we don't find the debauchery and wry, dark whimsy of Dazai; Kokoro is very straightforward, deceptively simple and understated in style. Indeed it took me awhile to get into it as it starts slowly, but I eventually got involved in it, and looking back over it after finishing was when I realized just how much was going on in it. Set at the very end of the Meiji Era (the very end; the Emperor is on his deathbed), it is narrated by an unnamed university student in Tokyo who befriends an older man whom he calls "Sensei." Although Sensei is melancholy and reclusive, the narrator finds him compelling, and the first part of the book establishes their relationship, and Sensei's should-be-happy-but-isn't-quite marriage with his wife Shizu (the only character the book names); he has some secret that weighs on him heavily and which not even his wife knows. In the second part, after the narrator's graduation, he is called home to the sickbed of his dying father and to his parents' questions about his future and failure to understand his relationship with Sensei. Then comes the news of Emperor Meiji's death, the honor-suicide of one of his generals, and finally a long letter from Sensei that tears the narrator away even from his father's deathbed. This letter is the third section and takes up half the book; Sensei at last reveals his past. In his own college days, a dispute over his inheritance instilled a basic distrust of people in him. Later, he met Shizu as the daughter of his landlady. When he brought a close friend, a semi-ascetic idealist whom he calls "K" in the letter, to lodge with them, he meant it as a favor, but soon began to view K with suspicion and jealousy---brought to a crisis point when K confessed his own love for Shizu, and the agonizing conflict between it and his spiritual ideals. Sensei, keeping his own feelings to himself, took advantage to undercut K and pressed his suit behind his friend's back, not so much out of wickedness as weakness, and before he could make amends, K committed suicide. This was the dark secret that haunted him for the rest of his life, not only in guilt, but in the realization that he himself was as untrustworthy as he had found the rest of humanity. Events surrounding the death of Emperor Meiji had spurred him at last to take his own life, and the letter was his explanation, sent to his only friend.
The novel boldly but effectively leaves things hanging right there (Sensei had posted a suicide note and the narrator had left his father's bedside and jumped on a train to Tokyo; actually showing the implicit tragedy wouldn't have added anything, but at the same time it's still up in the air when you think about it). Threading through this story are themes about disconnection and the end of eras within lives, between generations, and in whole societies, and also about the collision of idea(l)s and reality---K essentially killed by too much integrity, Sensei by too little. Deceptively understated, satisfyingly rich.
As you can tell I liked the novel, the anime not so much. Mind, the pages-per-episode metric is highly imprecise (page density varying across different books and such), but it amuses me, and with Kokoro it spikes to its all-time high of 125, except that the effective number is more like 65---with the twist that it's the same 65 pages in each episode. Yes, they lopped off three quarters of the book and butchered what was left---twice.
The anime concerns itself only with the love triangle part of the flashback, from K moving in to his suicide, and tells the story twice; the first version, "Summer," is from Sensei's viewpoint, and the second, "Winter," from K's viewpoint, and each one takes place in the eponymous season, among other conflicts of facts---so yes, these people are even more confused than the cast of In a Grove/Rashomon. That would be forgiveable or even an interesting effect if the versions were good or did the book any justice, but they aren't and they don't. They take the book's one sensitive and ambivalent account and split it into two horribly one-sided ones, neither of which is nearly half as good. In the first half, which shares Sensei's viewpoint with the book, K is dehumanized and threatening. I realized they'd butchered it about fifteen minutes in when Sensei and K have a direct, rancorous confrontation in a way that did not and could not happen in the book, where Sensei felt more genuine friendship and admiration toward K and became the villain because he didn't have the guts for something like that. The second half wasn't as painful as I expected (given, I was expecting something on the order of a root canal by then), and in its better treament of K is in some ways a corrective and truer to the book than the first half, but it's nearly as one-sided in villifying Sensei, and invents Shizu sleeping with K and asking him to elope with her---which again, did not and could not in the book. In both parts, K's suicide is tied more completely to the love triangle and his struggle with his ideals is neglected as a factor, Shizu has a more obvious favorite than in the book, her mother is played as a scheming stepford smiler, and, well, K looks like that (shirtless). Smaller details would be forgivable but contribute to the pattern of fail---K has that wild mane where the book described his hair as "close-cropped" and Shizu's hair has a fringe where it was specifically described as being too old-fashioned for that. Also the book's avoidance of proper names (even Shizu is only named like once and usually just called "Sensei's wife" or in the past context "Ojosan") comes across very awkwardly; K is literally addressed as K, and the excuse for Sensei to be addressed that way was notably flimsy. There are times when it used some interesting effects to convey emotion and such, but when the emotion thus conveyed was so off the mark? Yeah. I had my issues with "No Longer Human," but this is the first part of Aoi Bungaku I would file under "it's bad and I hate it." Hopefully it will be the only one...
I should also mention, I just recently found the series' TVtropes page, and according to it they got big-name manga artists to do the character designs, and so I find out just why I thought they were going for the Takeshi Obata look on "No Longer Human" and on this one---I was wrong; they went straight for Takeshi Obata! God, first Death Note, then Castlevania: Judgment, now this... I hate that guy more and more---and when you look at K, you know who to blame.
As mentioned during the kicking and screaming, this was so bad that I needed a bribe to get through it and/or some candy to feel better after, so I was a naughty girl and went torrent-fishing (hey, it's not like it's a legal copy of Aoi Bungaku I've got either), and got another adaptation of Kokoro, the 1955 live action version directed by Ichikawa Kon, subtitled in English and released in the UK under the Masters of Cinema label---and you get a mini-review of it as an extra bonus (this also will happen at least one more time---see PS).
For a fan of vintage J-cinema who liked the book, this one did live up to its role as consolation candy. With two hours to stretch out in and no stupid tarting up or chicanery, it's a pretty faithful adaptation. I appreciated that it confronted one issue head-on and just gave everybody names: the narrator is Hioki, Sensei is Nobuchi, and K is Kaji. A few minor changes punch up the drama a bit (it adds a significance to the first time Hioki and Sensei meet), but they're pretty effective. I do have nits to pick, some of which are fairly minor---the music doesn't know how not to sound threatening, but it doesn't show up that often; the same actors were kept in both timeframes, and particularly Sensei ends up looking like a 40-year-old college student in the flashbacks, where he would also sometimes pout a bit ridiculously. The biggest problem I see mostly concerns the love triangle part of the flashback, at which we're kept more distant from Sensei and don't have the crucial insight into the emotions behind his behavior. In places like this, the movie indeed might suffer if you haven't read the book. One thing, however, I actually appreciated in comparison to the original: Shizu comes across with more independent presence (and her mother might still be scheming, but in a lovable kind of way). The movie also takes one step past the book, but only one; we see Hioki arrive back in Tokyo and find Shizu mourning Sensei's death, and the movie ends on him lamenting that he didn't have the strength to save his friend---I don't really consider this addition good or bad, and the way the movie had built toward the ending, it probably needed it. In sum, this one isn't quite as good as the book---especially, I imagine, if you haven't read the book---but a movie isn't likely to come much closer. I'd say it's a good movie and a good adaptation; if you want to watch Kokoro, this is the way to do it.
PS: Long ago I mentioned that my copy of Kokoro had been thoroughly written in by someone who was probably forced to read it in college. I didn't read their notes more than I could help it, but you can't help it some. The most head-shaking part was how long it apparently took them to realize that the narrator changed for part three, Sensei's letter and flashback; I can hardly imagine what they thought was going on. They did have an actually insighful moment, though, noting that when the original narrator gets the letter and runs off to Tokyo, he's choosing Sensei over his own father in the pinch.
PS re Bonus Movie reviews: I put this one in at the last minute, but I also have another anime adaptation of Run, Melos! that I plan to review as a bonus. I could get one for Hell Screen, too---the one with Tatsuya Nakadai; I saw it years ago but I'd have to get it again. I don't know if I'd bother with it on my own, but if anybody would like me to include it, I will.
