The Temple of Dawn

Features

• Cover Type: Paperback with 352 pages
• Published by: Vintage April 14, 1990
• Written in: English
• ISBN 10 Number: 0679722424
• ISBN 13 Number: 978-0679722427
• Book Dimensions: 7.8 x 5.6 x 0.7 inches
• Weighs: 8.8 ounces

Product Description
Dramatizes the Japanese experience from the eve of World War II through the degradation of the postwar era.

Language Notes
Text: English (translation)
Original Language: Japanese

Reader Reviews
Now here's one of those books which one tries to review, but can only come up with disembodied cries and wild gesticulations due to sheer awe when one sits down to do it. I'll admit, I was a bit skeptical when approaching this: Runaway Horses, the second novel in the Sea of Fertility cycle, seemed to me to be a kind of regression after the incredibly beautiful Spring Snow. But now it occurs to me that I very well may have treated it unfairly, since I've read The Temple of Dawn and was blown away all over again. I'll grant you, this is a more difficult read than Spring Snow, which is probably why people don't talk about it as much. Why so? Well, first of all, it's split into parts. The first part isn't very heavy on plot - most of it is comprised of Mishima explaining various aspects of Buddhism. You might not be too keen on this; I wasn't, and frankly I don't think Mishima was either - it's a bit too dry to have been written by someone who was passionate about the subject. If this turns you off, however, I advise you to persevere - the ending will make it more than worth it. Secondly, there's an abrupt shift in focus. The first two books centered around their young protagonists Kiyoaki and Isao; Shigekuni Honda was present in both as a sort of way to link the two, but was often out of the picture. Further, both of those books seemed to paint a broader picture of Japan, if the depictions of court intrigue in Spring Snow and conspiracy organization in Runaway Horses are any indication. Indeed, both of those books reflect just how well Mishima could understand the world when he had a mind to. The Temple of Dawn, however, takes a new course that is then followed all the way to the end of The Sea of Fertility - it takes place almost entirely in Honda's head. Other characters are still present, certainly, but now everything is filtered through his eyes. This explains why you never meet the new incarnation of Kiyoaki, Ying Chan, in person - all you know of her comes from Honda's obsessive thoughts. In taking this course, Mishima has created just about the most poignant portrayal of loneliness and ennui I've ever seen. Reduced to Honda's perspective, the world of the novel becomes much more insular. This really culminates in the last novel (The Decay of the Angel), but it's more than evident here. Here we have Honda, a man whose life has been a brilliant success by all standards, and yet who can't say he has ever lived. Does that sound like a cliche? Well, now that I look over that sentence, it kind of does. But this will be soon forgotten when you read about his lonely dreams and his increasing burning desire to be someone he isn't. And in this light, it's no surprise that his quest for Ying Chan becomes the one and only quest of his life. It could have been no other way - it's one of those brilliant Mishima touches to have made the third incarnation a woman; not the first or the second, mind you, but the third, when Honda is already slipping into old age, which Mishima equated with the loss of one's soul. Only this way could the intense yearning that permeates the pages of this book have been created. The writing itself shows Mishima to be in full mastery of his art. One of the reasons why I found Runaway Horses a bit underwhelming was the lack of the absolutely mindblowingly sensuous descriptions that filled Spring Snow. Well, in The Temple of Dawn, they're back with a vengeance. I won't tell you any of the plot or how this relates to it since I don't want to ruin it for you. I will, however, say that the ending is just about one of the most brilliant things I've ever read. For a time, I was wondering where Mishima was going with these new developments and puzzling over how they could end. And then came the ending. In hindsight, it was the most obvious conclusion ever, and yet, since Mishima is familiar with things such as "subtlety," I was taken completely off guard by it. It's quite possibly the apex of this author's literary career, and it took the wind right out of me; when trying to imagine how it was written, I can only envision a fevered Mishima furiously tossing off page after page with a sort of maniacal frantic gleam in his eyes. And to this day, I get the oddest sinking feeling whenever I recall it. Why am I writing this incoherence? If you've started The Sea of Fertility, you'll certainly finish it, and if not, you should be reading Spring Snow. But I implore you not to forget to read The Temple of Dawn. Don't listen to anything anyone else says about it - the truth is that it's another unqualified masterpiece from a man whose career was blessed with them. Comment | | (Report this)