Cinque nō moderni

by Yukio Mishima

Cinque nō moderni (近代能楽集 Kindai nōgaku shū?, lett. "Collezione di nōgaku moderni") è una raccolta di drammi dello scrittore giapponese Yukio Mishima, composti tra il 1950 e 1955 e presentati a Tokyo come drammi moderni. Di questi cinque, soltanto Il Tamburo di Damasco fu messo in scena con i tipici costumi nō, mentre la rappresentazione di Signora Aoi fu ispirata all'Opera occidentale.

Tutti i testi ripropongono vecchie trame nō o storie tradizionali, traslandole in un ambiente moderno. Per questo lavoro, nel 1955 Mishima ha ricevuto il prestigioso premio Kishida per le opere drammatiche.

Genres: Plays, Japanese Literature, Japan, Drama, Fiction, Theatre, Classics

168 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1950

About the author

Yukio Mishima (三島 由紀夫) was born in Tokyo in 1925. He graduated from Tokyo Imperial University’s School of Jurisprudence in 1947. His first published book, The Forest in Full Bloom, appeared in 1944 and he established himself as a major author with Confessions of a Mask (1949). From then until his death he continued to publish novels, short stories, and plays each year. His crowning achievement, the Sea of Fertility tetralogy—which contains the novels Spring Snow (1969), Runaway Horses (1969), The Temple of Dawn (1970), and The Decay of the Angel (1971)—is considered one of the definitive works of twentieth-century Japanese fiction. In 1970, at the age of forty-five and the day after completing the last novel in the Fertility series, Mishima committed seppuku (ritual suicide)—a spectacular death that attracted worldwide attention.

Reviews

[Praj · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hanako : I wait.
Jitsuko : I wait for nothing.

Songs of a lonely heart flying from the gentle folds of the fan signalling the melancholic air to chant sermons of an unrequited love ; the capricious love muffling the voices of a damask drum ; the viciousness of love nurtured by the obstinacy of the heart spilling its vengeance in a haunted soul ; the arrogance of beauty nestled in narcissistic love humbled by the aloofness of a gravestone and the nothingness of love dissolving into a philosophical profundity dreaming the richness of love on a mystifying Kantan pillow. The shadows of human emotions expressed by the beauty of Noh travelled through the dainty pages in my hand nailing rock solid boundaries within my sanity. The spirituality of Japan’s oldest theatrical art echoed from contemporary adaptations mirroring and validating Mishima’s elegant testaments of Noh.

“But only human beings really change. Even after eighty years a daisy will still be a daisy.”

Time flies, decades overturn, centuries churn history, and humans evolve, yet, the deep-ingrained emotions unaltered dwell in their primitivism. Love births varied sentiments flooding the human diasporas with colours of jealousy, poignancy, rage, solitude, ecstasy and the vastness of fickle nature. Industriously, Yukio Mishima sieves the 14th century theatrical art through decades of modernity, diminishing the elitist barricades bringing Zeami Motokiyo's art of limitless world bringing the artistic finery to the classes and masses. The prologue states an intriguing anecdote of Ulysses Grant pondering on the fate of the Noh art. Noh, the oldest Japanese theatrical art form conceived by Kan'ami Kiyotsugu and Zeami Motokiyo, the father-son duo was strictly dramatised for the elite Shogun during 14th century supremacy. Mishima meticulously amends the literary imperatives keeping the supernatural elements integrating Western modernism and cultural system. The crucial Noh mask no longer physically veils Mishima’s actors transmitting the shadows of the mask onto the chaotic blend of mystical sentiments and commonsensical situations. The stately prince and princesses are replaced by the naked faces of ordinary people, the outwardly paranormal experiences embody internal spiritualities and class segregations juxtapose aging unsightliness. For even after eight years as the daisy remains a daisy, the tears of agony flow with every heart break, vengeance pursues jealously and even when hindered by incessant blankness, the heart does not stop loving. The five masterfully illustrated Noh plays is Mishima’s dexterous assimilation of surrealism of the ancient art with the incisive technicalities of modernity, comprehending indigenous vague sensibilities through a metaphoric democratic lens of naturalism.

“A man who’s once gone to war reminisces about the war all the rest of his life.”


Sotoba Komachi

Legend has it that Ono no Komachi, a renowned Japanese poet of the Heian Period was famed for her exceptional ability as a poetess as well as her astonishing beauty. The arrogance of her youth and beauty steadily vanishes with the ugliness of old –age leaving 99 yrs-old Komachi reminiscing the long lost beauty ironically near a gravestone. Sotoba Komachi translating into “Komachi at the Gravestone”, initially scripted as an enlightening dialogue between Komachi and the Buddhist priest. Mishima tweaks the dramatization by interchanging roles, placing the deliverance act in a park filled with young lovers. The Buddhist priests are replaced by a young drunken poet questioning a haggard old-lady (Komachi) as she collects cigarette butts off the ground. The heartless Komachi who once neglected her devoted suitors priding in her tantalizing beauty mitigates the harsh effects of aging justifying the inbred narcissism confessing how a beautiful woman always remains beautiful irrespective to the hideousness of age. Mishima tactfully places the woman on an urban park bench surrounded by young lovers making out, shifting the Noh play away from its fabled ambience and providing a realistic imagery depicting brutality of time and lunacy of self-love. The bench become the critical emblematic gravestone of youth and its arrogant beauty. The memories of a war ceaselessly thrive within a veteran devoid of any path to salvation. Beauty is a war in itself, the aftermath scarring even the most supercilious souls gifting nothing but perplexed loneliness.

“Love’s not that sort of thing. It’s something that shines on the one you love from the mirror of your ugliness.”


The damask drum (Aya no Tsuzumi)

The gardener makes way for a 70yr old janitor- Iwakichi, the princess trade places with an elite client of a chic couturier and the downtown city law office replaces the grandeur of the Asakura Palace. Ninety-nine uniform beats of a drum, the 100th beat resonates the sound of eternal love. “Our loves begins from the tongue” ; Mishima deciphers the convoluted emotion of love acknowledging the humble metaphorical embryonic beginnings. The “tongue”, a benign fleshy bodily apparatus naively harbours an immense affinity to the first likeable flavour. The tongue, like the human heart polarizes the monochromatic tones of love, exhibiting natural modesty to either black or white. Mishima , unambiguously asserts the the fellow-feeling for the greyish tone is purely an admission of the human mind and communal prejudices, whereas the tongue cannot distinguish between “original” and “genuine”, simply falling in love with the commonality of the taste.. The beating of the heart, the cry of an unrequited loved hushed by the fraudulent damask drum, the inability to love vibrating through the silence of the drum. The ceaseless thumping of the damask drum teasing the despair of a love-torn phantom weakens in bitterness of the unreciprocated love letters clinging onto the optimism of a drum sound. Hanako, the “princess of laurel” waiting for the 100th beat.


“There’s no way to make a madman like you understand the futility of human existence.”


Kantan

‘The Pillow of Kantan’ , the Noh play as it famously documented; dramatize the bizarre chimerical allure of dreams and the consequential reality. A will to live entrenched in the nightmarish pessimism. Dreams on a pillow rendering the entire factual world futile, delineates the kaleidoscopic revelations of Jiro enlightening the importance of living in the moment, the glory of the present is far better than the trickery of an enthralling future. The song sung by the Kantan pillow melodiously counsels its occupant, “The pillow is blameless, and the pillowed head is to blame..........” Life is nothing but a dream, there are some people who live for their dreams and then there are some who live in dreams. The futility of human existence enhanced by the immorality offered through dreams is best left on the pillow for true salvation comes from the mortality of the present, alike to Kiku’s garden that finally blossomed on one fine morning beautifying the heroism of trying to live.


“My flowers are invisible. Flower of pain is what they are.”



The Lady Aoi

Indisputably, one of the most famous Noh, ‘Aoi no Ue’ finds a place in Mishima’s collection. The wrath of a woman’s jealousy; the emotion most feared for its malevolence and its vulnerability rising from the sinister depths of treachery and seclusion. As the celebrated chronicle goes retelling the tale of a malicious spirit of Lady Rokujo tormenting the a pregnant Lady Aoi- the wife of Prince Genji ; the insufferable illness leading to a subsequent exorcism of the troublesome spirit. Mishima transmits the archaic supernatural thriller to a 1950’s metropolitan hospital scenery bringing plethora of contemporary trappings. Unlike, in the classic, the absence of Prince Genji is filled with the presence of a masculine-figure signifying Aoi as a wife of a businessman- Hikaru Wakabayashi. The dramatization prominently taking place in a psychiatric ward veers toward sexual complexes. The “ghost of libido” afflicting Aoi tosses the eerie fascination into intense sexual psychoanalysis stylishly mirroring the root cause of Rokujo Lady’s malice towards Aoi.



Keeping intact the spirituality and the paranormal potency of the original Noh, Mishima floats the crudity of sex being one of the derivates of Rokujo’s suffering. The sinister background of the hospital and the inclusion of a coquettish nurse diagnosing the mental illness demarcate Mishima’s capability to engage the vagueness of exorcism through the precision of medical analysis. Mishima’s unmasked actors deduce the possibility of the supremacy of hate and love, pain and joy equating to the cyclical motions of day and night, the root of it all stemming from Rokujo’s sexual ecstasy with Hikaru.


“Don’t they say that human beings go on living by waiting and making other people wait? If you gave your whole life to waiting, how would it be? Am I unshut window? An unshut door?


Hanjo

In one woman’s eternal wait lies another woman’s eternal destination. The lively Hanjo fans sway through loneliness of a tragic love, beseeching lingering shreds of sanity. *[As the story goes, 'Hanjo' was the name of an ancient Chinese Court Lady whose embellished fans were celebrated in inspirational poetry] The universal element of ‘waiting’, consumes the artist and her muse. The women – Jitsuko and Hanako, deserted by love, dreaming to be loved thrive patiently in the horror of unrequited love; time being the cherished decoy for the delusional heart. Mishima, recreates one of the most outstanding love stories and a heart-rending classic in Noh theatre with dominant allusions of the dilettante love harbouring no prejudices, flourishing through lengthened waiting interludes encumbering the aimless trenches of lunacy. The inclusion of a flagrant homosexual approach to the Noh play is Mishima’s way of enlightening the impartialness of love disregarded by the prejudicial fundamental of the society. Two women looking into the future of waiting, annulling and acknowledging the presence of love evokes the sensation of human fortitude and stratagem of time capturing the nakedness of a helpless love.

“The essence of yūgen is true beauty and gentleness – Zeami Motokiyo

The Zen term yūgen (幽玄) lays the aesthetical foundation for the art of Noh. Yūgen connotes the idea of a mysterious, sophisticated beauty. The shadows of leaves floating in the tepid waters of a serene lake, the song of a cuckoo filling the morning sky, the beauty when you discover an old childhood souvenir; the profundity originating from the nuances of the bewildering ways life turns out to be. The purpose of Noh is the expression of such unfathomable beauty imperceptible through the naked lens of mankind. The moralistic pillars of the narrative are swayed by the graceful movements of the actors disseminating into theatrical metaphor interpreted by the sentient art and its audience.

The shiny sly needle eagerly searched by a pair of frantic eyes slashing the morbidity of an arid haystack, harnesses the allure of a clandestine beauty among aggravated repulsiveness. Human emotions get ugly, the incidental narcissism veiled behind a placid mask, stories are fashioned, moralities escaped from the tucked seams and yet , when the aloof shadows of a Noh mask drift on the skin of its performing possessor , the magnanimity of its beauty imbibes the magnetism of the steely needle peeking through the myriad straws of hay. The clandestine beauty of human life.

[Roya · Rating 4 out of 5]

[9]

به نظرم حساسیتی که ژاپنی‌ها روی کلمات و معنا دارن، باعث میشه آثارشون عمق و زیبایی داشته باشن. خیلی براشون مهمه که کلمه‌ای رو به جای دیگری به کار نبرن تا بتونن معنای درست و حقیقی رو به مخاطب‌شون برسونن. خیلی از کلمات‌شون هم خاص زبان خودشونه چون شیفته‌ی جزئیات کلامی و معنایی هستند.
برای همین وقتی از ادبیات ژاپن می‌خونین، فارغ از قالب و ژانر، واقعا لذت می‌برین و غرق زیباییش میشین.
این کتاب مجموعی از 5 نمایشنامه‌ست. من اولین باره که نمایشنامه ژاپنی می‌خوندن و واقعا لذت بردم. احساس می‌کردم که در غم، غرور، دلشکستگی، امید... شناورم. نمایشنامه‌ها در درست‌ترین نقطه به پایان می‌رسیدند. واقعا دوسشون داشتم :"))

[Nicole~ · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars
Nō for Dummies

First off, let me say that I started reading these plays nō-ing nothing about Kabuki or Nō theater, just that I have always admired Japanese dramatic arts even though I couldn't much understand it. It is like listening to Shakespeare for the first time, in high frequency. A little research ( ok, very sparse research ) went a long way to assimilate to the subtle nuances of this medieval art form.

Nō, literally translated as "skill or ability" - the lyrical, traditional Japanese style of theater drama - draws its distinctive structure from ancient ritual and folk dances. It is essentially a poetic, quasi-religious, musical drama - without the dramatic conflict. Nō possesses inherently a remoteness from the reality of life, indirectness and abstract analogy, a composite of ancient myths and legends. Zeami Motokiyo (1363-1443) created the canonical framework of Nō out of contemporary but disparate customs, drawing on a precise knowledge of Japanese aesthetics, of long-established poetics and Buddhist teachings. The characters in Nō are closely linked to the concept of human nature, stemming from the religious principles of Zen Buddhism, representing mystical and spiritual perceptions.

Yukio Mishima (1925-1970) novelist, poet, dramatist, film director, army officer, is lauded as the first successful author of modern Nō plays. His intentions were to transform the centuries-old Japanese aesthetic form - which embody ambiguity, simplicity, vague language and deep-rooted Buddhist doctrine - into more of an intellectual and intelligible scheme, while still preserving the sensitivity and symbolism of the ancient form of Nō. He helped bring a stylistically 14th century art form into the 20th century.

Contrasting the old and new in his modern Nō, Mishima keeps the same titles and basic plots of the older plays, but uses contemporary speech, natural body language and stage settings. While in Zeami's Nō: feelings of passion are evoked in the observer, Mishima elicits intellectual response. While traditional Nō might stimulate a spiritual sense with overtones of lightness and life, Mishima generates anxiety with components of death.

As a result, these five plays have morphed into concrete versions of their abstract past selves, still representing the essence, the symbolic quality and suggestive elements of the originals* even in their crude modern settings; they are comprehensible and accessible to the otherwise ill-exposed Nō audience. Mishima's recreations stir-up excitement and tension, are metered in pace, tone, temper, and atmosphere. The narrative is tight, controlled, concentrated, not one word lies in waste.

The Plays:


Sotoba Komachi- set in a public park on a bench, a poet and a hag talk about the beauty she once was, and in so doing, he is 'bewitched' in viewing her as the archetypal woman who dominates the male psyche.


The Damask Drum- the old janitor of a building declares his love for a woman in the adjacent office, is given a message to beat the damask drum to win her love, only to be laughed at. In humiliation, he commits suicide. A supernatural design unfolds.

Kantan- a traveler naps on a magic pillow and dreams of a glorious life as Emperor of China. He awakens unable to distinguish dream from reality.


The Lady Aoi - a version of the tale of Genji love triangle takes place in a hospital setting. The gothic good vs evil is reminiscent of a Japanese horror flick - as a fan of such, this was my favorite!

Hanjo- about a teahouse geisha who exchanges fans with a gentleman as a promise of marriage, only to suffer madness by his abandonment of her. This story involves homosexual love and the only one that ends happily.

For the poorly diverse, opportunity-deprived but eager spectator of Japanese theater like myself, Mishima has provided coherent interpretation and exciting entertainment in these dramas, infusing his own flair for the dark and macabre, conjuring up a mysterious, mesmerizing, evocative, at times gothic world in which I enthusiastically enjoyed being immersed.

"Most encouraging of all, perhaps, is the fact that an outstanding young writer has devoted himself to this traditional dramatic art, and in so doing has created works of unusual and haunting beauty." - Donald Keene (translator)

*The original plays in old speech translated in English can be found here:
The Nō Plays of Japan by Arthur Waley (Grove Press, New York, 1953)
Anthology of Japanese Literature by Donald Keene (Grove Press, New York, 1955)

And for a dedication to my GR comrades click here

[Smiley]

Second Review

3.5 stars
I've just come across this interesting Bibliographical Note (p. 200)

FOUR of the original No plays on which Mishima's versions are based were translated by Arthur Waley in The No Plays of Japan (Alfred A. Knopf, 1922). They are Sotoba Komachi, Kantan, The Damask Drum, and The Lady Aoi. Hanjo is found in Twenty Plays of the No Theatre (Donald Keene, Columbia, 1970).

Incidentally, I've had The No Plays of Japan (Grove Press, 1957) since September, 2015 so I suspect I didn't read this note and mention it in the first review. (To verify) It's a pity there are only two plays in this book, that is, Sotoba Komachi and Kantan. Therefore, I have to reread these two plays to compare with Mishima's text and post a supplementary review soon. As for the other three plays left, I would write more when I can find the Waley text and the Keene text published by Alfred A. Knopf (1922) and Columbia (1970) respectively.

To continue . . .


First Review

Indeed I have never read No Plays by Yukio Mishima before (I knew he wrote them but could not find any to read) and I found his plays interesting. However, there were some points I could not understand and I guessed they might be something subtle or mysterious that would require further studies on his motive and Japanese No Plays. I think we can be simply relaxed by reading the plays because of fine translations by one of the great Japanologists in the 20th century and beyond, Professor Donald Keene. I mean their characters themselves and I would leave other technical points to those critics who have written in various columns and books in which we could search and read to our hearts’ content whenever we feel inclined to.

All of his five No plays may look simple but I wonder if anyone dares to write like him or unthinkably surpass him; it is easier said than done, I think. In the meantime I found some lines worth reflecting or sharing ideas, for instance:

Excerpt 1 (SOTOBA KOMACHI)

POET
Strange … you have the cool eyes of a girl of twenty, you wear magnificent sweet-scented clothes. You are strange! You’ve become young again.
OLD WOMAN
Oh, don’t say it. Haven’t I told you what will happen if you say I’m beautiful?
POET
If I think something is beautiful, I must say it’s beautiful, even if I die.
OLD WOMAN
What madness! No more, I beg you. What is this moment you’ve been talking about?
… (pp. 30-31)

Excerpt 2 (THE DAMASK DRUM)

IWAKICHI
Those are pigeons from the newspaper office. Look at them scatter. Now they’ve formed a circle again. …
KAYOKO
I’m glad you’re in love too. It’s made you young again.
IWAKICHI
Don’t be silly. My love is a one-sided affair, not like yours.
KAYOKO
You’re in love with a great lady whose name you don’t even know.
… (p. 40)

Excerpt 3 (HANJO)

YOSHIO
Then you won’t let me see her. … In other words, her happiness is not what you desire.
JITSUKO
I desire exactly what she desires, and she has no desire what for happiness.
YOSHIO
(with a defiant smile) Then, just supposing I came here in order to make her unhappy again . . .
JITSUKO
Her unhappiness is beautiful and perfect. No one can intrude.
… (p. 187)
etc.

However, I simply could not accept the ending of these two plays since each was a bit illogically interpretative, that is, abruptly ended with no sense or eventually sensible conclusion:

EXCERPT 4 (THE LADY AOI)

MRS. ROKUJO’S VOICE
(from the telephone) Hello, Hello . . . What is it, Hikaru? What’s the matter? You wake me up in the middle of the night, and then suddenly you don’t say a word. What do you want? Why don’t you answer? . . . Hello, Hikaru, hello, hello . . .
(At the last “hello” from the telephone, AOI thrusts out her arms at the telephone and with a horrible cry collapses over the bed and dies. The stage immediately blacks out.)
CURTAIN (p. 171)

EXCERPT 5 (HANJO)

JITSUKO
I wait for nothing.
HANAKO
I wait . . . and today has grown dark too.
JITSUKO
(her eyes flashing) Oh, wonderful life!
CURTAIN (p. 198)

In brief, reading his No plays has obviously revealed another genre of his rare, formidable literary stature which we simply could not help admiring and reading him till his last contribution to the world.

[Sergsab · Rating 4 out of 5]

Estas piezas teatrales breves están repletas de Mishima. Su esencia se manifiesta en cada réplica, en cada objetivo que personajes principales y secundarios se marcan como meta. La belleza como castigo, la obsesión por aquello que nos ignora, la incapacidad de amar de un modo sensible y altruista y el paso del tiempo reflejado en las estaciones. Lejos de aquella cómoda y silenciosa naturaleza japonesa, Mishima saca lo peor que cada uno lleva dentro, pero no para ser juzgado, sino para ser aceptado como parte indivisible de lo que es un ser humano digno de ser llamado como tal.

Dediquen tiempo a estas obritas. No lo estarán desperdiciando en modo alguno.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Yukio Mishima's Five Modern Nō Plays is a wonderful re-creation of a venerable art form that is as remote to the modern Japanese as the operas of Claudio Monteverdi is to our day. What Mishima does is to give five stories set in our day the No theater treatment. Just as the No plays frequently bring in ghosts, Mishima does the same in two of his plays, "The Damask Drum" and "The Lady Aoi," which, coincidentally, are my favorites in this volume.

[Philippe Malzieu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Claudel said " The Greek drama it is something which arrives, the No, it is someone which comes " Yourcenar translated this book. She does not hide her admiration for Japanese who possess two very differents theatrical traditions. The kabuki, younger of 3 centuries full of noise and fury. No is more melancholic, allusive and dévotionnel. It arises from the Buddhist tradition. It was at the VIIth century when the monk Kelkai came from China to transmit the Buddhism in Japan. I went to spend one night in a monastery of the Mount Koya, the cradle of the Japanese Buddhism. It is necessary to make it to become soaked with the Japanese culture. There is thus in No, a profound condolence, of the supernatural and a sacred element. Mishima resumes the characteristics of No without retaining the sacred aspect.
Thus 5 No, 5 dramatics situations. My preferred is the fourth. The supernatural appears as a threat under the aspect of a woman who comes at night at the bedside of a sick woman.
To you to choose the one who pleases you most.

[Tosh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Yukio Mishima wrote these series of plays because of his respect for the medium of "No" plays. If Kubuki is a broad type of Broadway/London West End type of entertainment, then No is sort of a combination of a Robert Wilson piece with a Robert Bresson narrative. Mishima of course makes his own 'modern' version of the No Play that is incredible to read. I would love to see this on a stage.

[Vishy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wanted to read a Yukio Mishima book today, and I decided to read his 'Five Modern Nō Plays'.

In this book, Mishima has taken five classic Nō plays and put them in a contemporary setting, and adapted and reshaped them for a modern audience. 'Sotoba Komachi' is inspired by the legend of Ono no Komachi, a real poet and one of Japan's foremost women poets, who lived during the Heian era, around a thousand years back. 'The Damask Drum' is about an old janitor who loves a beautiful young woman and sends her a love letter everyday. This woman is quiet for most of the play, but towards the end, she speaks and reveals unsuspected hidden depths which amazes us. As they say, still waters run deep. 'Kantan' is about a young man who meets his governess after many years and the fascinating things that happen after that. The first half of the play was wonderful, then there was a dreamy surreal part which was a commentary on politics and world happenings which was okay but not really my favourite, and then the play ended the way it started in a beautiful way. 'The Last Aoi' is a beautiful love story filled with some psychological horror and fantasy. It had some of my favourite passages from the book, and it was probably my favourite play from the book. 'Hanjo' is a triangle love story, in which a older woman and a young man love a young woman. It must have been unusual for the times in which Mishima wrote it, and it is beautiful.

This book has a beautiful introduction by Donald Keene, that lover and translator of Japanese literature, who has also translated this collection.

I loved this collection of Nō plays by Mishima. Very entertaining and very fascinating. Mishima seems to have written other plays too and I want to read them now.

I'll leave you with some of my favourite passages from the book.

From 'Sotoba Komachi'

Poet (teasing her) : "Oh! And tell me, old lady, what is your reason for living?"

Old Woman : "My reason? Don't be ridiculous! Isn't the very fact of existing a reason in itself? I'm not a horse that runs because it wants a carrot. Horses, anyway, run because that's the way they're made."

From 'Kantan'

"It's simple enough to become a hero. Any man can become one, provided he has no desires. You can get more power and profit through indifference than through greed. Just imagine – in times like these a mere stripling can take over the country, just because he acts indifferent and claims – apparently in sincerity – not to need money, women, or fame."

From 'Lady Aoi'

"The night is not like the day, it's free. All things, people and inanimate objects alike, sleep. This wall, the chest of drawers, the window panes, the door – all of them are asleep. And while they sleep they're full of cracks and crevices – it's no problem to pass through them. When you pass through a wall not even the wall is aware of it. What do you suppose night is? Night is when all things are in harmony. By day light and shadow war, but with nightfall the night inside the house holds hands with the night outside the house. They are the same thing. The night air is party to the conspiracy. Hate and love, pain and joy : everything and anything join hands in the night air."

Mrs. Rokujō : "What's the matter? You're not saying a word."

Hikaru (gently) : "There's no need to say anything."

Mrs. Rokujō : "It's medicine to me to hear you talk that way, a medicine that cures all my wounds in an instant, a marvelous medicine. But I know the kind of person you are – you give the medicine first and only afterward inflict the wound. You never do it the other way. First the medicine, after the medicine the wound, and after the wound no more medicine... I understand well enough. I'm already an old woman. Once I get wounded I won't recover quickly like a girl. I tremble with fright whenever you say anything affectionate. I wonder what horrible wound awaits me after so efficacious a medicine. Of late, the less affectionate you talk the happier it makes me."

Hikaru : "You seem convinced that you're going to suffer."

Mrs. Rokujō : "Pain comes, as night follows the day, sooner or later."

Hikaru : "I can't believe I have the strength to cause anybody pain."

Mrs. Rokujō : "That's because you're young. One of these days you will wake up in the morning with nothing on your mind, and while you are out walking with your dog, perhaps, you will suddenly become aware that dozens of women somewhere, unseen by you, are suffering, and you will understand that the very fact you are alive is in itself a cause of suffering to many women. Even though you can't see them, they can see you, and it is useless for you to turn your eyes away, for you are as plainly visible as a castle that rises on a height over a city."

From 'Hanjo'

"I have only known Hanako since she lost her mind. That has made her supremely beautiful. The commonplace dreams she had when she was sane have now been completely purified and have become precious, strange jewels that lie beyond your comprehension."

Have you read this collection of plays by Mishima? What do you think about it?

[Heba Tariq · Rating 4 out of 5]

ولد طفل في هذا العالم الضبابي المظلم! ان رحم امه كان اكثر تفاؤلا. لماذا يجب ان نتركه في مكان اكثر ضبابية؟ سذاجة
.......
كنت اهوي النظر الي عينيك .. تلك العيون التي تبحث عن الحرية داخل القفص الذي كان هو نفسي، و القيد الذي كان هو انا ..

[Jonathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Samling av ganske korte no-skuespill skrevet av Mishima. Det er litt variasjon i kvalitet imo, men generelt sett er de ganske solide og tankevekkende, hovedsakelig om tematikk rundt skjønnhet, kjærlighet, og misunnelse. Noe positivt med alle dramaene, er at ingen av dem slutter som forventet.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

No’s fine as far as it goes, but it'll never as good as kabuki:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bS8L1...

Loved the text of these plays. "Lady Aoi" is my absolute favourite, followed by "Sotoba Komachi". Least fave was "Kantan", which I found rather difficult.

I thought that the introduction could have been much more helpful and much less annoying.

[Alor Deng · Rating 4 out of 5]

5 plays by Mishima. Would love to see these plays on stage someday. These plays seem deceptively simple but there is more than meets the eye. The plots are intriguing and odd. Don't expect "happy endings" here.

[Fin · Rating 4 out of 5]

JIRO

You really are pretty. But if you strip away the skin, what have you got but a skull?

BEAUTY

You're horrid. I've never thought about such a thing. (She touches her face.)

JIRO

Do you suppose that some skulls rank as beauties among their kind?

BEAUTY

I imagine so. Some must, I'm sure.

JIRO

What extraordinary confidence! But when I was kissed just now I knew that underneath your cheeks your bones were laughing.

BEAUTY

If my face laughs the bones laugh too.

JIRO

Is that what you have to say for yourself? You should say when your face laughs your bones are laughing. That's for sure. But the bones of your face laugh also when your face is crying. The bones say: "Laugh if you want. Cry if you want. Our turn will be coming soon."

Reminiscent of a T. S. Eliot play, where the ancient past (here Nō, there Greek tragedy) comes creeping with a predator's poise into the modern

JITSUKO

I have only known Hanako since she lost her mind. That has made her supremely beautiful. The commonplace dreams she had when she was sane have now been completely purified and have become precious, strange jewels that lie beyond your comprehension.

YOSHIO

Say what you will, flesh is in those dreams.

[Nadja T · Rating 5 out of 5]

Amazing!

[S P · Rating 4 out of 5]

Brilliant introduction to Nō plays, a Japanese theatrical art form revived by Mishima who is someone not so known, abroad, as anything but a fiction writer. Though I don't know an awful lot about Nō (and the book's introduction could have been much more informative and better), the plays are absorbing. They are mysterious and deal with dreams, ghosts, spirits, and magic but in a thoroughly 'modern' environment: palace gardens are replaced with offices, temple gardens by public parks. Nevertheless the sinister quality works well in the modern equivalents heightening that blurred line between reality and dream, which now seems so prominent a part in Japanese literature.

For people unaccustomed to plays, these might feel very odd to read. Very short but overly packed with philosophy, and what almost seems to be witticisms (or meditations on life), there's a forced aspect to the dialogue; far from realism. But it's the situations, the narratives that draws us in, whether it's in Sotioba Komachi, The Lady Aoi, or Hanjo. (The three best plays.)

[Kevin · Rating 5 out of 5]

On connaît peu Yukio Mishima en tant que dramaturge, mais c’est pourtant un genre dans lequel il excelle. Il nous le montre ici en dépoussiérant le nô, tout en parvenant à ne pas dénaturer ce théâtre tellement japonais et à nous dévoiler une fois de plus son talent. On prend un réel plaisir à découvrir l’intrigue et à s’imprégner de cette atmosphère si particulière qui entoure ces pièces.

Avis complet : https://comaujapon.wordpress.com/2017...

[Tobi ﾄﾋﾞ · Rating 4 out of 5]

What can I say? This was great! Some very interesting stories, written clearly. The opening of the first play gripped me immediately. I don’t know much about nō theatre but I’d say this is great even for beginners ! I like the way they gave Mashima a whole new feel (in a good way) he writes so well.

[Felix · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's been really interesting to see plays written in a style so foreign to Western audiences. That said, these are not ancient texts, but rather reimaginings of an ancient style of play in a modern context. By way of analogy, think of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, but set it in modern New York. These are ancient tales brought to modern times.

I found these plays a little uneven. The first play is the best. It's a very interesting and subtle supernatural drama. All of its grey uncertainties evoke great modern authors like Tanizaki and Kawabata. Even without cultural context, it's a really strong and spooky story. It certainly doesn't demand much knowledge of Nō theatre, or Japanese culture in general, to enjoy it.

The others are more of a mixed bag. I think a lack of knowledge of Japanese tradition, on my part, maybe lets down some of my enjoyment of these. The second play is about a trick drum. Again, it tackles supernatural themes, but it is more complex than the first play, and I felt it was a bit too compacted within the short length of the text.

The third play I liked a lot. It's a disorientating and almost psychedelic play, but that all takes place within a context that makes sense. A magic pillow whips the reader away on a psychological magic carpet ride that makes for an enjoyable story.

The fourth play is a love triangle story. The fifth is also a love story, but not a triangle. It's also the only one of these plays that more or less ends happily.

For me, the first and the third plays are the strongest. The first is nearly perfect structurally and narratively. The third is the most interesting. The others are different shades of unexciting.

[Deep · Rating 4 out of 5]

With this sadly being a Swedish translation from an English copy, and more importantly my lack of knowledge of Noh theatre, I did feel I was missing something from the plays.

Nevertheless, the most obvious themes of these works Mishima is playing around with the supernatural and non-linear (dream)time of traditional Noh. Beyond this, Mishima also invites us into his classic de Sade-Sacher-Masoch interplay of love and cruelty. As Lady Rokujo from the author's adaption of Aoi no Ue neatly summarizes: hate and love, pain and joy - all opposites take each other's hand in the night air.

[Brian Bonilla · Rating 5 out of 5]

El trabajo realizado por Mishima en este volumen es simplemente magistral, no solo se percibe la magia típica de su escritura sino que además se puede apreciar la esencia del teatro Nō. Las obras, si bien fueron modificadas por Mishima para acomodarse mejor a la modernidad, ahondan en temas tan inherentes a la naturaleza humana que resulta casi imposible no sentirse identificado con alguno de ellos.
Un tesoro imperdible que, gracias a la maravillosa traducción de Donald Keene, nos es dado para disfrutar a plenitud.

[Nihlah Assegaf · Rating 4 out of 5]

“I'm happy. I feel as if I could soar into the sky, and at the same time I am curiously depressed.”

“It must be a terrific strain always thinking up new things to say. This is one of the more agreeable hardships of love.”

“All of us are suffering in exactly the same way. The only difference is that some people talk about it and others don't.”

My favorite plays are probably “Hanjo” and “The Damask Drum” (tales of unrequited love, so predictable of me…)

[Dior · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/3.75

[Khalid Hajeri · Rating 4 out of 5]

The mysteries and intrigue of Japanese 'No' mask personalities are brought to life in the form of theatrical plays!

I rarely find books that contain play scripts entertaining. In fact, the only ones of that nature I find fascinating to read are those written by William Shakespeare. However, "Five Modern 'No' Plays" is another exception. It is a great collection of plays that are imaginative and readable without sounding like monotonous theatre scripts made exclusively for visual arts.

Written by the late Yukio Mishima, each play features a cast of characters bordering from the everyday soul to the bizarrely schizophrenic. There is an air of mystery behind each play that makes for storytelling with surprising depth. Some characters are depressed which could have ruined the mood of the stories, but elements of dark comedy manage to keep the mood lightened and playful (no pun intended). And best of all, the plays can be utilised in almost any setting despite being written in the early part of the twentieth century.

For readers interested in the theatrical arts, "Five Modern 'No' Plays" is a fine collection to read and perhaps apply visually for something a little different than Shakespeare's play works. Recommended!

[Sean · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Five Modern No Plays" by Yukio Mishima is excellent, well structured collection that gives you a fascinating taste into the world of Japanese No drama. Grotesque, darkly-drawn stories that go deeply into the human psyche, the five plays are by one of the twentieth-century Japan's best playwrights are a mixture of traditional No style with modern stories and structures.

I have never encountered No theatre before but picked this collection up from a used bookstore because I've been looking to expose myself to more international drama. And after reading a collection of Akutagawa short stories, I have been more interested in Japanese literature. As the helpful introduction by translator Donald Keen states, No was a classical Japanese dramatic form that nearly died out with the Meiji Restoration but survived and remains an integral part of Japanese culture. What seems sets this type of drama apart is length (usually about an hour long) and content (often dealing with the supernatural or unearthly).

For the most part, the plays are interesting and engaging. My favorites were "The Demask Drum" and "Katan" and the only one that I felt was of lesser quality was "Sotoba Komachi." Each one is quite dark and like good theater, really engages its audience to not only question the characters but also themselves and the world around them.

If you are looking for an interesting gateway into Japanese literature, I would recommend giving this collection a read.

[Ben · Rating 4 out of 5]

2022
In the 1950s, Mishima Yukio, who went on to become one of Japan’s most famous novelists, masterfully retold five classic plays from Noh, a form of Japanese theatre that found its perfect form in the fourteenth century. I first read this collection nine years ago.

British journalist Alan Booth once told the story of how he formerly loved Noh but then became disillusioned when he realised how the art form had become fossilized over the centuries. Mishima’s achievement, however, is a remarkable demonstration of how this exquisitely beautiful art form has, in fact, the flexibility to adapt to a modern context. It’s notable, in particular, how sexually charged these haunting plays are in Mishima’s hands.

In this collection, we're lucky enough to have an English translation by Japanese literature expert Donald Keene, who also provides in his introduction an illuminating summary of Noh.

2013
Mishima's masterful retelling of 5 classic no plays is a remarkable demonstration of how this beautiful art form (which, as Alan Booth puts it, has become fossilized over the centuries) has the flexibility to adapt to a modern context. And we're lucky enough to have a translation by Japanese literature expert Donald Keene.

[Ji]

Years ago I read this book in English when scanning through Japanese literature in the second floor underground of Brandeis University Main Library (the time period when I devoured a bunch other Japanese literature most of which I've forgotten today). Due to closeness between Chinese and Japanese, naturally I'd prefer to read Japanese literature translated into Chinese. However, due to political influences and other reasons that are beyond my understanding, I've never had a chance to see most of Japanese work I wanted to read in Chinese - that is, until now. Recently since 2010, many books by or about Yukio Mishima have appeared in Chinese. All of sudden these books become available while they were far beyond reach when I longed for them the most. I wish I was born at a different time so that I would be able to cherish them at the right time. After all, reading has the best effect when it's done right - the right selection, at the right timing - just as the theory of "150 books" by Faria in The Count of Monte Cristo says.

I've long forgotten what these No plays were like when I read them (except for some very ghostly feelings about the settings). It just feels so exciting to revive this memory through the newly available Chinese translation!

[Taka]

Never thought Noh plays were this surreal. Many of them were too surreal (or too familiarly surreal) for me, but some were very, very good, especially Yuya which left me flabbergasted by its sheer narrative ingenuity in playing with the audience's expectations (i.e. messing with your head). What I appreciate about these "translations" is that most of the plays, even the surreal ones, left me with a quiet resonance much like wabi-sabi, such as Aya no Zutsumi, Sotoba Komachi, Hanjo, and Dōjoji. One quibble: not sure if it's in the original plays, but most of the male characters are so unlikable in Mishima's highbrow, intellectual, sadomasochistic way that they felt familiar and despicable at the same time. Gah.

[Page99 · Rating 4 out of 5]

'I had never read Japanese literature before (except Manga). All my knowledge about their culture was based on stereotype, which doesn’t say a lot. I found this book and it had these circles drawn on the cover that looked hand-drawn with a pen. I kept feeling the cover to see whether they were real. Intrigued as always, and a little amused at my stupidity, I picked it up..' Read more: http://bit.ly/1aYbXLz

[Douglas Oswald · Rating 2 out of 5]

Having studied Noh plays extensively, I was interested in a study of Modern Noh in comparison to traditional Noh. I found the plays contained within this collection to be entirely unlike Noh in style, content, meaning, and philosophy. Surely a number may be based on previous Noh works, but to call writing such as this 'modern noh' is, I believe, an inaccurate description.
Not unreadable, but not what I was looking for. Again, I am wholly unimpressed by Mishima.