Uno Chiyo (宇野 千代) was a female Japanese author who wrote several notable works and a known kimono designer. She had a significant influence on Japanese fashion, film and literature. She became part of the Bohemian world of Tokyo, having liaisons with other writers, poets and painters
In later years, Uno’s popularity was given formal status as she was recognized by the Emperor and assumed the honor of being one of Japan’s oldest and most talented female writers.
“I wonder where I should start...” The dense sentiment of Yuasa Joji’s words lingered as I embarked on this literary documentation. My perishable deliberations fleeted from the quirky passionate adventures of Joji to the resolving core of Uno Chiyo’s audacious vibrancy. What, if I was a man? Would I be able to brazenly shove my penis into a vagina that voluntarily opened in front of me , without the repercussion of societal prejudices? My masculinity measured by the depth of my promiscuity reasoning the democratic sexual vulnerability. Would the sentiment of ‘love’ be on the tip of my penis, vanishing at the very instance of my sexual fulfilment? Or would I crave for the precise emotional upheaval of a woman’s dilemma? My aspirations of desiring to be a man are solely for the sense of sexual freedom. Why is it that when a woman seeks sexual pleasure for reasons other than “love” is defined through despicable labelling? Is it the sole responsibility of a woman to construe the lucid characterization of ‘love’ through her marriage and sexuality, whilst the puzzlement of the said sentiment becomes a prerogative of a man? What if I articulated through a man’s voice elucidating the woes of both the genders? Will I achieve the sense of freedom experienced by Uno Chiyo, herself? The wishful contemplation remains to be seen.
“Had I ever once been in love? Never. That was because I wasn't the type of man who falls in love, was I?................ I had in fact become nothing more than a scoundrel who had cleverly learned his lessons while abroad. It was just now my expertise had developed further and I was able to put on a show of falling in love.”
The far-reaching panorama of love confessions recounting the romantic experiences of an apathetic Western-style artists challenging the traditionalist perception of women ; experimenting on new found liberation of woman’s sexuality and financial independence. Uno Chiyo ardently scripts the attention-grabbing lifestyles or to be truthful, life choices of three audacious female protagonists associated with the progressive picture of the Japanese “modern girls”-modan garu or ‘mo-ga’. The steady rise in urbanisation brought a plethora of social changes with young women replacing their reams of kimono with much vibrant and fanciful Western-styled clothing, aping the Westernized philosophies the modernized youth culture engaged in a bohemian existence scandalous to the yet traditionalist Japanese society. Chiyo, herself being at the helm of such restructured image led an outrageously audacious life with her preference for vibrant make-up and chic dressing and for her democratic approach to social and personal demeanour. The idea of love and sex etched by the irrational imagery of “good wife” or “good girl” smothers the women in this manuscript by constant ethical validity. The knotty lives of the four women enmeshed with Joji’s capricious oddity reflect Chiyo’s own asphyxiation when experimenting with the new found freedom, the men in her life and the matrimonial hypocrisy.
If Joji can mull over the probabilities of genuine love with a pardonable defence, why is the same self-exploring conduct of Takao or Tomoko’s experimentation seen as scandalous and wayward act? When the act of sex weighs more towards the lure of lust than love, can't it be enjoyed with gusto,equally by both men and women without the latter being embellished with unflattering terminology? The concept of love is not as vacillating as the male protagonist, seeing that the sentiment of love does eventually flourish to a fanatical climax.
“This what a home was supposed to be and in a home it made no difference what the husband thought or what was on the wife’s mind, just as long as one lived peacefully, wrapped in great warmth.”
The onset of Taisho democracy conveyed a fresh libertarian attitude in the 1920s Japanese society enlightening a myriad of political philosophies persuaded by Westernization. The establishment of the democratic environment split the war prone Japan into two communal doctrines. The exertion of challenging the old while embracing the new, mislaid a sense of belonging within the populace, especially the youth. Uno Chiyo delineates similar dilemmas wrestled by the befuddled characters in this ‘shosetsu’. Yuasa Joji’s predicament of fitting into two polarised world sympathizes with the likelihood of him accustomed to the European life-style while study art in France. His yearning and frantic search for a “comforting home” exposed the alienation endured by Joji in both his social and private life. A forlorn domestic front, impassioned sexual affairs and high susceptibility to the female exquisiteness generates an erratic yet sympathetic persona to Joji’s entirety as a man perpetually stuck within its own isolation. Parallel conjectures are also detected in the lives of Joji’s women. Takao’s feral sexual prowess and obstinacy for exploring sexual and emotional freedom like a man; Tomoko’s self reflection on her burdensome marital life and the subsequent extra-marital expedition with Kurota; Matsuyo’s intense yearning for a divorce freeing her from the monotony of a passionless marriage and then Tsuyuko, whose life weighed down by the eternal fight against the desolation of love and the repressive familial milieu.
Each of Chiyo’s illustrated women was jammed between the explorations of emotional, sexual and social independency carving their own niche in the society yet, somehow restricted by financial dependence due to hierarchical and gender chauvinism. Uno Chiyo steadily gives a commonsensical depth to Yuasa Joji comparing the daunting visibility of 'modan boi' or rather an ‘urbane man’. Joji’s quest of a ‘warm and peaceful home’ diminishing within Tomoko’s residential domesticity was a momentary respite for his neither his or Tomoko’s heart could find a permanent refuge in this materialistic solace.
“I had Tsuyuko’s love the way a baby searches for a mother’s breast, but no matter how long I journeyed I still found no refuge where my heart could came to rest.”
The dissection of the romantic crescendo culminating in suicidal brouhaha sharply cuts through the biographical narration of the Parisian nurtured artist- Seiji Tōgō and Chiyo’s life with him. Togo known for his contemporary art as well as his flamboyant love –life and a vastly publicised act of lover’s suicide, had encountered Uno Chiyo on of her attempts to write a novel encompassing the romanticism of a ‘love suicide’. Intriguing as it replays, the bizarre episode of Chiyo spending a night with Togo on the same blood-stained futon recapping Tōgō’s fruitless suicide attempt , possess an sinister eroticism that Chiyo brings into her prose. The ‘watakushi shosetsu’(I-novel) overpowering the confessional fictionalized account of Seiji Tōgō is a road to liberalism collapsing into nothingness when bent towards a controversial Japanese society still shackled within the burrows of conventional dogma inundated with volatility and misapprehensions.
Not to be easily dismissed as a romantic fluff from the 1920s literary era, the archetypal Japanese hero, a charismatic man weakened by female sexuality, fabricates a sense of coherent evaluation when scrutinized through the concave disposition of the desperation and vagueness of sexual rendezvous and the chaotic ideological consumption of three women crammed in the bohemian allure of modernisation. The warmth of a mother’s breast, the passion of a lover’s body and the draughtiness of the heart misplaced in uncanny temperament of love shatters the lives of those involved in Yuasa Joji’s lyrical portrayal of love marred by reckless sexual vulnerabilities and the calamitous progression towards romantic emancipation.
Confesiones de amor nos cuenta la historia de Yuasa Joji, un pintor japonés que después de algunos años viviendo en Europa, regresa a Japón. Está casado y tiene un hijo, pero su matrimonio hace aguas asi que deciden divorciarse. Durante todo este proceso de divorcio, tanto Joji como su esposa siguen compartiendo casa, aunque cada uno en un área diferente de la casa, y mientras tanto, Joji se ve envuelto en varias relaciones amorosas casi sin proponérselo: primero conoce a Takao, una chica mucho más joven y que a diferencia de lo que hacían las mujeres de aquella época, siempre es ella la que toma la iniciativa a la hora de proponerse acercarse a él; más tarde conoce Tsuyuko, de la que se enamora perdidamente y cuando los separan dado que no es aceptado por su familia, conoce a Tomoko, con quién se casa en cuanto consigue el divorcio.
"Para Tomoko, el matrimonio era como una etiqueta pegada en una lata de conserva. Independientemente del contenido, el exterior tenía que ser, sin falta, brillante, alegre y ".
Es cierto que a priori viendo este argumento, puede parecer un culebrón romántico, con varios giros de telenovela pero la idea asiática del romanticismo está muy lejos de la de Occidente. Chiyo Uno nos plantea una historia desde el punto de vista del protagonista masculino, pero le convierte en un hombre algo pasivo, que se deja llevar y que de alguna forma nunca toma la iniciativa, incluso se llega a desmayar en alguna ocasión, va de aqui´para allá algo perdido, lo que siempre habián hecho los personajes femeninos en la mayoria de las novelas, los estereotipos de toda toda la vida están aquí cambiados.. Es como si los roles estuvieran completamente invertidos, porque aquí son ellas las que parecen siempre las activas, las que van contracorriente y las que de alguna forma toman la iniciatva ya sea para establecer las relaciones, o para abandonarlas. Aquí, las mujeres de esta historia no son a los típicos personajes femeninos de la época, y de alguna forma son mujeres que se rebelan a los roles marcados. Chiyo Uno se basó en su propia experiencia; fue una mujer que se casó varias veces y que rompió barreras en un momento en los que en Japón esto debió suponer un escándalo tras otro.
Chiyo Uno cuenta que se le le ocurrió la idea de esta novela, después de reunirse con Togo Seiji. Había estado escribiendo una novela y había decidido incluir el suicidio de un amante. Como sentía que no podía transmitir las presiones emocionales de un momento tan crucial desde el punto de vista masculino además, telefoneó a Togo, un pintor que acababa de salir de un doble intento de suicidio muy público y escandaloso, y le preguntó si él podría darle una idea de su experiencia pasada. Uno afirma que ella no cambió ni una palabra de lo que le contó Togo, que escribió exactamente lo que él contó, y que sólo lo instó preguntándole qué sucedió después, y citaba textualmente: -Togo me dijo una vez: Creo que la verdadera razón por la que vivías conmigo era para que pudieras hacer una novela con mi historia-. (Todo esto se cuenta en el capitulo dedicado a Chiyo Uno de “Modern Girls, Shining Stars, the Skies of Tokyo: Five Japanese Women”, de Phyllis Birnbaum)
Con esta novela, Chiyo Uno de alguna forma rebate la idea preconcebida de que las mujeres eran seres indefensos que esperaban a que los demás tomaran las decisiones por ellas, y por supuesto muy capaces de tomar la iniciativa en el terreno sexual. A raiz de esta novela me volví a leer el capitulo dedicado a su vida de Philys Birnbaum, "Modern Girls, Shining Stars, the Skies of Tokyo: Five Japanese Women", que si estaís interesados en bucear en la vida de esta escritora, recomiendo mucho muchísimo. Chiyo Uno fue una mujer muy interesante y transgresora en una época en la que la mujer no tenía ni voz ni voto. Resumió su visión de la vida diciendo: "Creo que la alegría es una virtud y la melancolía un pecado".
What looks like a saucy story of a man falling in and out of love with the pretty women around him appears to convey a story about people feeling trapped in an evolving society. There is some dark humor in this novel that can feel quite subtle at the beginning... but really hits you towards the end. 🥴
Uno Chiyo was a woman of strong will and insatiable passion - a "liberated woman" - especially concerning matters of love. This novel Confessions of Love is one of her lasting legacies. She was notorious for her hedonistic lifestyle; her relaxed attitudes towards sex and marriage were scandalous in the eyes of those around her. And she was not one to shy away from controversy; in fact, she often confronted it without hesitation or shame, as she broke away from the menacles of conservative tradition.
This novel, narrated by Joji, is a beautiful piece of writing. The plot is as enticing and captivating as any story about love, scandal and disappointment. Here, we follow Joji as he meets women with whom he begins relationships with. These women are not typical of that time. They are women who refuse to be constrained by society's rules and expectations. Joji, on the other hand, is a capable man, however he possesses irredeemable weaknesses. He is able to capture the hearts of ladies, but not for long.
Uno's writing is remarkable in many aspects. Her style is lucid and colorful. Her narrative is appealing and enduring. Her characters display both strengths and weaknesses that are all too easy to relate to. In all, she writes of people who see the power of love as a force which there is no escape from.
"Independientemente de lo lejos que hubiera llegado nuestra historia, mi corazón no había encontrado refugio en ella. Tenía la sensación de estar andando por una ciudad azotada por el viento. Al anochecer, las casas iluminadas pertenecían a los demás. Yo seguía andando bajo el viento hasta el infinito y no sabía quién me obligaba a hacerlo. Cuando pensaba que yo era quizá un hombre que solo podía vivir de aquel modo, tenía la sensación de que aunque decidiera interrumpir aquella existencia con la muerte, no haría sino seguir el camino que tenía trazado. Yo había sido perseguido y acorralado hasta el lugar donde me encontraba ahora."
Un pintor que torna de París, una admiradora que li escriu cartes i un entramat de passions que es converteix en un laberint de desig, dependència i venjança.
Quan vaig començar a llegir-la, em pensava trobar un “culebrot” ple de dramatisme. Res més lluny de la realitat: aquí les dones fan i desfan, adoptant papers que fins aleshores només havien estat reservats als homes. Chiyo Uno trenca rols amb una mirada revolucionària, retratant l’amor no com un ideal romàntic sinó com una força capaç de transformar i destruir.
Una novel·la directa, elegant i sorprenentment moderna, que continua ressonant per la seva lucidesa i per la valentia de l’autora.
Francamente es un libro maravilloso. La sensibilidad de Chiyo Uno está puesta en todos lugares: sus descripciones de los personajes y lugares son tan precisas que hasta los momentos más pequeños e insignificantes parecen reales y posibles. El mundo interior del protagonista y las mujeres que cruzan su vida es rico y profundo. Me encantó.
The protagonist keeps falling in and out of love with different girls. All of which happen while he is in the divorce process and still living with his wife. Also they have a child, but there's close to no mention of him.
With this setting, it's difficult to feel empathy for him as every romance he steps into makes his life more miserable. The only thing that's helping is the fact that it's a first person narration. He conveys his thoughts and emotions good enough to be believable, his descriptions of other characters are both precise and useful for us to get a very good picture of their personality.
Many scenes are highly memorable, I especially liked when he and Tsuyuko spent a night at their friend's house, for how it changed their relation and how he kept thinking back about it in regret, despite the fact that nothing really tragic had happen.
Another thing I really liked is that the story didn't take epic proportions. Well it does end in a dramatic way, but here and there, scenes of everyday life described with everyday words somehow help focus on the more subtle things.
a book describing a time and place almost a century old. a book describing a man returning to his home to find he is a foreigner in his mother country, a japan in the midst of reconciling traditional culture with growing western influence. for me in the USA, in many ways this story takes place a long, long time ago in a country far, far away.
it's hard to read this today and think that any of the main characters truly... love. all i see are mismatched infatuations and unregulated passions -- but is that how the book originally came across to it's readers? hard to say.
the book focuses on different types of relationships, affections, and infatuations between a cast of characters, and explores the different ways to express affection, attraction, and perhaps what some would call love. but no matter how complicated you make the story, a romeo and juliet story is a story of just that, infatuations and passions, but not love. (there's a "what's in a name" joke to be made here, pretend i did it and it was funny).
even in the main character, Joji's, own words, he wonders if he is truly capable of love at one point, and wonders what it even is. it often feels as if this book is Uno Chiyo trying to understand what it would mean to love as a man in turn-of-the-century Japan
despite my complaints i found the book to be written with a... somber? tragic? beauty, but found the prose to be very... stately? though i wonder if this is perhaps because Uno Chiyo's prose is very hard to translate into english. at many points the translation seems to be "japanese but in english" rather than fully translated "into english"
i don't know if i "liked" this book, but on my neverending quest to answer the question "what is love" (another joke to be made) i liked reading it. and now even writing the review i am very glad to have read it
I was very tickled by the fact that the author based this story on her ex-boyfriend after interviewing him on his sensational failed love suicide. There's no better way to let everyone know just how thoroughly a loser he is. But pathetic as he may be, there's no denying that he has pull. You know the Chinese saying 男人不坏,女人不爱? Personally I cannot understand what all these women from good families saw in him but maybe it is precisely because they come from good families that basic concerns like financial stability are not an issue. Often, it felt like he was unable to resist the pull of the romantic fantasies they superimposed onto his person; his inherent spinelessness made him good for playing out melodramas his various lovers rope him into.
Joji has a wife and son, mind you, but he goes along with a teenager when she writes him letters every day asking him to meet her, and even follows her up to a hotel room, sneaking out the next morning. The girl is understandably furious so she run away from home and gets a new boyfriend. Unsurprisingly, almost instantaneously, he falls in love with the girl's friend, Tsuyuko, instead because she is just so beautiful he can't help it 🙄. But too bad for them, there's just no way for him to support their relationship and her parents are strict military types so they send her off to America. In just a few weeks, Joji ends up involved with yet another young woman whose parents want them marry because their only child is sickly. He goes along with it and tries to divorce his old wife, but then Tsuyuko returns to Japan, his new wife runs off with another man, and he is still broke. Solution? Love suicide. It was also a bit icky how he compared their relationship to that of a mother with her baby, or brought up her "Chinese" outfit which is just pyjamas.
Despite being somewhat of an aficionado of Japanese literature, I did not know who Uno Chiyo was when I saw "Confessions of Love" on the "free shelf" in college a long time ago. It turns out that while she has a rather high profile in Japan, she didn't gain much recognition abroad until the 1980s when several of her works were translated by feminist scholars after there was a renewal of interest in her towards the end of her long life. Likely the fact that she was the final surviving person from the tumultuous Taisho period of literary and artistic flourishing, and was active in writing and fashion until her death made her stand out. Certainly, she seems as much famous for her own personal bohemianism as much as anything she ever wrote or designed.
This particular story is more or less a thinly veiled fictionalization of the romantic life of one of her ex-husbands, as done from his perspective. It's rather not surprising that he divorced her shortly after, because it's highly unflattering. Joji Yuasa comes across as self-centered, weak-willed, passive-aggressive and vacillating, completely oblivious to the damage he does to other's lives. He seems to attract and pursue younger modern-oriented women who seek the glamour that comes from the life of worldly and charming artist, but only to run afoul of the fact that he's just a hopelessly shiftless and emotionally self-absorbed. Stuck between the traditional mores of their families and societal expectations, and the unglamorous reality of what bohemian life is like (poor, unsettled and unstable), none of his relationships come to a happy ending, with the final one ending in an almost comedic failed double suicide, in which the woman believes that it's the ending of a doomed romance, while Joji is mostly going through an internal whining about how his life is meaningless and he has no more artistic inspiration, and mostly is using her a prop for the scene setting of his failed artistic ambition.
Honestly, while there is quite a bit that's tragic about the women, all four of them seem like hot messes themselves in a lot of ways, which I think a lot of the feminist theorizing about the author has sort of glossed over. In all, it doesn't really come across as preachy or a condemnation of Japanese society. While societal mores are impossible to escape, there is the interesting contrast of families that seem to have a bit more "heart", and are willing to forgive transgressions as opposed to bury them away.
Stylistically, well, if not for the frankness of the sex and suicide, it would definitely be more in the "popular novel" category. Granted, Uno is going up against some really heavy competition, but it just seems like prose is workman-like, none of the evocative richness of Ogawa, nor the sly irony of Akutagawa, nor the ability to say things without directly saying them at all, that Kawabata possessed. Honestly, though, trying to compare her to her literary contemporaries seems unfair, as she's better than most current Japanese writers being published today, particularly when it comes to portraying emotional depth. 3.5 out of 5 stars.
M'ha agradat menys que l'anterior que vaig llegir de la mateixa autora. Comença amb la mateixa (meravellosa) senzillesa narrativa que aquella, una prosa neta que es fa llegir de gust. Però aviat s'embolica amb triangles amorosos que m'ha costat seguir, en part pels noms però sobretot pel comportament absolutament caòtic dels seus protagonistes. Ara entenc perquè la vaig començar i la vaig deixar a la pàgina 50 una bona temporada fins a trobar-ne el moment adient. Hi ha un moment en què es converteix en una espècie de relat d'anades i vingudes en tren, de casa en casa, de família en família, de crisi existencial en crisi existencial, on jo ja llegia sense entendre res. També s'ha de dir que tinc el cap a una altra banda, ara mateix, i em costa molt concentrar-me. El final és... a veure, parlem d'aquest final. M'he passat les últimes pàgines dient què fas què fas què fas!
On suit les aventures amoureuses du narrateur, anti-héros velléitaire qui semble balloté d'une femme à l'autre. Ca me fait un peu penser, d'un point de vue narratif, à Les Hauts de Hurlevent : on comprend que le narrateur ne comprend pas grand chose, et on comprend que les autres personnages le comprennent. Malgré sa faiblesse de caractère indécrottable, je me suis rendu compte que les impressions et les histoires que se racontent Joji (la tentation de rejoindre une famille harmonieuse et confortable) ne me sont pas étrangères. Le piano revient sous la main de toutes les filles qu'il séduit/par lesquelles il se laisse séduire : il est rapidement emporté par l'énergie et les névroses des femmes dont il pense faire des conquêtes. Un simple indicateur de classe ?
A mitad de libro ya había perdido todo interés por los personajes y por sus historias. Ningún personaje me despierta simpatía, y tampoco son lo suficientemente sugerentes para producirme antipatía. Me ha dejado muy fría.
Se me ha hecho larguísimo el libro, el protagonista cambia cada dos por tres de parecer y le da igual cualquier consecuencia que puedan tener sus actos. Al final se hace pesado porque parece que el hombre va dando tumbos por ahí enamorándose de cualquiera que ve
Para ser un libro de 1935 la complejidad de las relaciones y los mandatos de género me parecieron bastante actuales. Toda la narración es típica de un autor japonés, aunque la traducción media floja. De todas formas me gustó.
Historia aburrida, le falta color por todos lados. Por otra parte, la traducción al español es de pésima calidad. Que cueste tanto leerlo es, en gran parte, culpa de los traductores. Una pena.
Por momentos sentía que era una historia contemporánea y me olvidaba que fue escrita en 1935. Me gustó mucho lo verosímiles que son los personajes de las mujeres. Lo recomiendo ✨
Pas facile cette Confession amoureuse... Le narrateur est un peu perdu dans sa vie, et notamment dans sa vie amoureuse et il le dit. Et tout est fait pour communiquer cette confusion au lecteur.
Cet homme, peintre prometteur japonais, vient de rentrer au Japon après plusieurs années en Europe et il a parfois du mal à comprendre sa société. Et nous aussi, souvent on ne sait pas trop ce qui se passe. L'honneur à préserver coûte que coûte, l'idée du suicide, l’opprobre sur les divorcés... le décalage culturel est fort.
I opened 2013 with Confessions of Love, as part of my personal challenge of reading more Japanese literature, as well as January in Japan.
Chiyo Uno is not often mentioned when it comes to Japanese literature. She doesn't seem to fall among the popular Japanese authors such as Murakami, Banana Yoshimoto, Kawabata, Tanizaki and the likes. According to the translator of Confessions of Love, at the time of his writing the introduction (late 80's), there was a Chiyo Uno 'boom' going on in Japan. As far as I was able to find out, the same goes for the west: most western works about Uno seem to have appeared around the same time, and not much after that. I certainly hadn't heard of Uno until I found this copy of Confessions of Love, which attracted my attention because of the author's name, the photo on the back cover and... well, the cover is bright pink and a bit tacky and I simply couldn't resist.
The book is written from the perspective of an artist, Jōji Yuasa. He describes his escapades with women and falling in love. He is a weak man and in no way a hero. The story starts out innocent enough, when Yuasa receives a letter from a girl. At the time he is still married, but his marriage is loveless and he decides to pursue the girl. Without spoiling the rest of the story (although halfway I realised it was already spoiled in the introduction): by the end I didn't have much sympathy for Yuasa left. The book is a nice quick read. The translation to English is done by Phyllis Birnbaum. I haven't tried reading the book in Japanese, but the translation at least reads easy and pleasantly. The language is straightforward and personally I like that. Also I found it fascinating that the story was told from the perspective of a man. Moreover, Uno integrates both the traditional and the modern aspects of her time in the novel. Most of the women in Confessions of Love are 'modern girls'. 'Modern girls' (モダン・ガール) or moga are a phenomenon that started in the 1920's, Japan's late Taishō period and early Shōwa period. Moga followed a westernised fashion and lifestyle. They were usually independent, financially and from their family. Despite all of this, Uno shows in Confessions of Love how family and tradition continues to influence marriage.
Before I even started the book, I was instantly intrigued by Uno because of the introduction by Birnbaum. Uno was born in 1897 and died at age 98 in 1996. Her life was far from traditional. As she says herself, she did whatever she pleased. In her life time she had several husbands and lovers (Yuasa in Confessions of Love is based off the story of one of her husbands), as well as several occupations such as kimono designer. She was mostly popular for her looks - she was a 'modern girl' herself - and her escapades with men, although she herself says she gave priority to writing.
I wanted to know more about Uno and was happy to find The Sound of the Wind: Life and Works of Uno Chiyo by Rebecca L. Copeland at my library. It contains a biography of Uno (which seems to be taken largely from Uno's self-written works about herself) and three stories (The Puppet Maker, The Sound of the Wind, and This Powder Box, which I haven't read yet). I can recommend this book if you are looking for more insight on Uno and the time she lived and wrote in.
With the Goodreads Japanese literature group we read The Makioka Sisters by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki, one of Uno's contemporaries. Both books were written and take place within ten years of eachother, before WWII. While the Confessions of Love mostly shows the lives and love-lives of 'modern girls' and the way society views them, The Makioka Sisters portrays the traditional way of finding a husband (or more accurately I suppose: a husband being found for you). Reading both these books is incredibly insightful in this part of Japanese culture at the time.
I am happy I found a Japanese author I was not yet familiar with and I'm definitely looking forward to reading more of her works (first those three stories in Sound of the Wind, I suspect).
“Una confessió amorosa” és una obra intensa i delicada de l'autora japonesa Uno Chiyo, una de les veus més singulars de la literatura japonesa del segle XX. Amb un estil íntim i refinat, el llibre ens endinsa en una història d’amor apassionada i turmentada, narrada amb una franquesa emocional poc habitual en la seva època.
A través d’un relat que es mou entre el desig, la gelosia i la necessitat de llibertat, Uno Chiyo construeix una protagonista femenina forta, contradictòria i profundament humana, que desafia els rols socials i morals imposats a les dones. La seva escriptura, gairebé autobiogràfica, és alhora poètica i contundent, i ens permet entendre millor els conflictes emocionals i socials que envolten les relacions amoroses.
Recomano aquesta lectura a qualsevol persona interessada en la literatura japonesa, en la mirada femenina sobre l’amor i en les emocions que travessen les relacions de parella. Una confessió amorosa és una obra breu però intensa, capaç de deixar una empremta duradora en el lector.
Si bien me costó conectar con la historia y los personajes, fue interesante poder viajar a Japón de los años 30, aunque parecía más bien el 1800. Me surge esta pregunta: ¿Por qué reprimimos el impulso humano para garantizar el honor, si es la libertad la que nos hace verdaderamente honrados? Al liberar el ser, la fluidez construye. La resistencia, disfrazada de sociedad juiciosa, encierra e, inevitablemente, quiebra.
Salah satu buku hasil "rampasan perang" pas diskon tengah tahunnya Periplus. Dari Rp105ribu bisa sisa Rp10ribu. Luar biasa :D
Confessions of Love bercerita soal Joji, seorang seniman Jepang beraliran barat yang lama tinggal di luar negeri. Sekembalinya di Jepang, dia mendapati perubahan pada istri dan anaknya yang tidak dapat dia terima dan memutuskan untuk mengajukan perceraian.
Dalam proses perceraian ini, dia bertemu dengan Tsuyuko, seorang perempuan yang mampu membuat dia jatuh cinta untuk pertama kalinya. Sayang hubungan mereka tidak direstui oleh orang tua Tsuyuko dan Tsuyuko pun pergi ke New York, meninggalkan Joji di Jepang.
Di tengah kepedihannya, dia bertemu dengan Tomoko, seorang wanita pesakitan yang memiliki rumah yang hangat. Dalam usahanya untuk melupakan Tsuyuko, dan karena tekanan orang tua Tomoko, Joji akhirnya menikahi Tomoko. Sayang pernikahan mereka tidak berjalan mulus dan Tomoko pergi melarikan diri dengan kekasihnya.
Merasa bahwa hidup ini sudah tidak berharga lagi, Joji diam-diam memutuskan untuk bunuh diri. Di saat itulah dia kembali bertemu dengan Tsuyuko yang pulang ke Jepang. Bagaimana akhir hubungan percintaan Joji yang rumit ini?
Ok, membaca sinopsis novel di atas, entah bagaimana rasanya seperti membaca sinopsis cerita sebuah sinetron yah. Tema yang diangkat memang terasa agak basi saat ini. Soal kerumitan cinta seorang pria tidak tegas yang terombang-ambing di antara beberapa wanita dan dicampur dengan masalah perceraian dan perselingkuhan. Tapi pada zamannya, tema ini termasuk tidak biasa. Tidak heran novel ini menjadi buah bibir saat pertama kali keluar.
Gaya penulisannya tipikal gaya menulis novelis Jepang saat itu. Sudut pandangnya menggunakan orang pertama dan relatif lebih ke arah "tell" daripada "show" sehingga ada beberapa adegan klimaks yang kurang terasa gregetnya, tapi bagian akhirnya diceritakan dengan baik dan cukup membuat saya bergidik.
Kekuatan novel ini terletak pada alur dan kemampuan Uno Chiyo mengadopsi pola pikir pria dan menghadirkan tokoh aku lewat Joji secara meyakinkan.
A weird little book with clear, straightforward prose but a somewhat strange story of a self-indulgent man and his numerous love affairs. I'm a bit confused: the girl who pops up first in the story is very interesting, but never returns, the reason for the protagonist's antagonism towards his wife and child is only offered very late into the book, and the story suddenly pivots to a gory double-suicide, which somehow leads to a happy ending? Very confusing, to say the least.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.