Shuntarō Tanikawa was a Japanese poet and translator. He was considered to be one of the most widely read and highly regarded Japanese poets, both in Japan and abroad. The English translation of his poetry volume Floating the River in Melancholy, translated by William I. Elliott and Kazuo Kawamura and illustrated by Yoko Sano, won the American Book Award in 1989.
Mõni aeg tagasi korraldasid mu õpilased koolis raamatunäituse nendest raamatutest, mida soovitavad nende õpetajad. Ühel päeval seisin ma selle väljapaneku ees ning nägin, et keegi oli oma raamatuks valinud just selle. Ma ei tea tegelikult tänaseni seda, kes seda soovitas, aga mul on hea meel, et kes iganes seda soovitas, valis just selle. Sest kuna ma jaapani keelt eriti ei oska ja jaapanlased armastavad oma jaapanikeelsetele raamatutele inglisekeelseid pealkirju kaanele trükkida, kuid mu süda ütles: ei, selle raamatuga ei saa ju nii olla. Niisiis ma otsustasin riskida ja tellisin selle ära (totakas nagu ma olin, siis ma ei leidnud seda esialgu Amazonist ülesse, nii et ma tellisin selle kõige kallimast võimalikust kohast, Abebooksist).
Ja see oli seda riski väärt. Ehkki seda raamatut on võida peaaegu ainult jaapanikeelse pealkirja järgi, siis tegelikult on see raamat kakskeelne, nii et tene 272 lehekülge lähevad mul kirja väikese mööndusega: jaapanikeelset poolt lugesin suuresti google translate'iga ning see ei olnud just eriti edukas üritus.
Aga inglisekeelne... Oh, kuidas see paitas mu hinge. See raamat tuli minu juurde õiges kohas ja õigel hetkel. Selles on kaks luuletust, mis mainivad Asama mäge, mille ma olen südames juba esimesest Sakus oldud päevast südames enda omaks kuulutanud. Ma oleks sellest raamatust ühe ilusa pildi teinud, kuid ta on jälle mattunud lumepilvedesse.
Raamatus avaldatud luuletused on kirjutatud aastatel 1949-1951, kui Ameerika väed olid veel Jaapanis. Need räägivad sõjajärgsest maailmast, inimestest, loodusest. See on raamat, mida tuhanded noored jaapanlased loevad veel tänapäevalgi, sest see on nende põhikooli kohustusliku kirjanduse osa. Selle autorit, Shuntaro Tanikawat peetakse Jaapanis elavaks aardeks ning sageli loodetakse, et ühel päeval saab ta Nobeli kirjanduspreemia.
I adore this book. And I'm not alone -- it's standard reading in Japanese middle schools/high schools.
The author graduated high school only, and then turned to writing, and you might say that shows in commitment to accessible language and powerful reading experiences.
For anyone interested in poetry, a must read; for students of Japanese literature, a must read. There is a great Japanese/English bilingual edition with William I. Elliot's faithful, lucid translations great for those interested in studying translation or Japanese/English languages.
Book Review: Two Billion Light-Years of Solitude by Shuntaro Tanikawa
I discovered Shuntaro Tanikawa completely by chance. I was wandering through T-Site Daikanyama when I came across a quirky illustrated book that I assumed was for children. It turned out to be an illustrated version of one of Tanikawa’s poems, うそ (Lie). I bought it, immediately disliked it, and then, somehow, became obsessed with it. That’s the thing about Shuntaro — he gets under your skin. He’s deceptively simple, yet impossibly deep.
That little book led me to Two Billion Light-Years of Solitude. Tanikawa passed away this year, after what must have been a remarkable life — one in which he lived long enough to see himself become a legend. As Japan mourned his passing, his books once again filled the front shelves of Tokyo’s bookstores, quietly reminding everyone of the voice they’d lost.
As a non-fluent Japanese reader, I couldn’t resist picking up this bilingual edition, grateful for the English translations. It’s his most famous work — astonishingly, also his first (poems written between 1949-1951).
But I have to admit: Tanikawa reads very differently in English. In Japanese, even with my clumsy understanding, there’s a rhythm and intimacy that feels alive. In translation, that quiet magic fades. The words remain, but the pulse is gone.
So while I can’t say this was a good read in English, I’m still glad I read it. It made me want to return to the original — slowly, painfully, but with heart. Because poetry, after all, is one of those things that never truly survives translation.