Kwaidan

La primera vez que escuché sobre Lafcadio Hearn debió ser en 2006, durante un curso de cine de terror japonés en el Claustro de Sor Juana, con sus pasillos atiborrados de gatos y una oscuridad que daba escalofríos. Corte a: caminando por las calles del Centro Histórico, muy cerca de donde Carlos Fuentes ubicó la casa de “Aura”, encontré en una librería un ejemplar de “Kwaidan” (1904) a punto de deshacerse. Las paginas amarillentas y el olor a humedad del libro, sólo incrementaron la extrañeza inquietante. Lo que Freud llamaba: lo siniestro.
Si alguien amó, interpretó y divulgó la cultura japonesa, fue Lafcadio Hearn (1850-1904). Hijo de madre griega y padre irlandés, la vida del escritor y periodista fue tan show more intrínseca como muchos de sus relatos. Prácticamente abandonado siendo un niño, se volvió un trotamundos hasta que llegó a Japón en 1890; se casó con una mujer nipona y fue profesor en la Universidad de Tokio.
“Kwaidan” es una recopilación de cuentos aterradores que se adentran en temas como la muerte y la reencarnación, la naturaleza y el karma, desglosando las tradiciones y creencias japonesas. Son relatos breves, 17 cuentos variados en temática y estilo que tienen algo en común: la escalofriante narrativa que emana el libro desde la primera letra.
Fascinado por el misterio y riqueza cultural de oriente, Hearn tomó de antiguos libros japoneses algunas leyendas aterradoras y las moldeó en sus cuentos; también encontró historias de origen chino que le impactaron y algunas más provenientes de nativos de la zona que le confiaban crónicas atroces.
Demonios, samuráis y fantasmas (de cabello muy negro), deambulan entre relatos tan desconcertantes como tétricos, mientras Hearn, por medio de notas y apuntes, ayuda al lector occidental a entender términos japoneses ambiguos. La humedad y el hedor de la muerte, la naturalidad del regreso de ultratumba y la caligrafía como elemento para confundir espectros, son ejemplos de los temas que viven dentro de las páginas de “Kwaidan”.
Elegir un cuento favorito es inútil. En su conjunto, los relatos crean un universo macabro en el que el traslado de uno a otro va incrementando la tensión y el horror. Sin dejar de señalar ese extraño sentimiento que queda al terminar la lectura: ¿cuántas vidas habremos vivido ya? show less

I'm late to the Lafcadio Hearn party, having only read two stories in this collection before picking up this book -- "The Story of Mimi-Nashi-Hoichi" and "Yuki-Onna," which have long been personal favorites. There are seventeen actual "Kwaidan" ( kaidan) in this book, and then a section by Hearn called "Insect Studies," three compositions that in their own right are definitely worth reading. From what I've been able to discover, Hearn's wife Setsu related a number of these tales to him, but as Oscar Lewis notes in his introduction, Hearn spent a lot of energy and time trying to
"unearth some quaint legend or trace down some curious bit of superstition...and he worked with the same slow patience to render his discoveries accurately and show more without distortion into English."
He was so keen to get it right that

"he made her [Setsu] enact again and again a part of some ancient legend, studying her every gesture, insisting on the exact intonation of every word."

Now, I don't know about anyone else, but to me, that's a prime example of unshakable passion at its peak. Luckily, his admiration and persistence have paid off in spades -- these are some of the finest weird folk tales, legends, and ghostly tales to be collected in a single volume. Ranging from out-and-out creepy ghost stories to monks roaming the countryside where various monsters, demons and other creatures seem to abide, there is never a bad note struck throughout the entire collection.

At seventeen stories, I'm not about to go into each one, but I'll highlight my favorites. As mentioned earlier, I am quite partial to "the Story of Mimi-nashi Hoichi," a tale in which a blind biwa player is summoned to recite the Tale of the Heike (平家物語Heike Monogatari -- another personal favorite) in front of a distinguished audience. He is asked to relate the part about the battle at Dannoura, "for the pity of it is most deep." Unfortunately for our blind biwa player, his recital is magnificent -- and he is called back for another performance. Then there's "Yuki-Onna," in which a young woodcutter is about to meet his death, but is miraculously saved by a strange woman he encounters in a cabin in the woods. What happens afterward is just downright freaky creepy. While all of the tales in this collection are excellent, I also loved "Rukoru-Kubi," the story of a high-ranking samurai turned wandering priest after his master's house was defeated in the ongoing warfare of the time and the house fell. Kwairyō (the priest) makes a habit of sleeping outdoors, but accepts a humble woodcutter's offer for shelter. Insomnia gets the best of him, and he literally stumbles into a closely-held secret that will literally stick with him for some time. Another fine entry is "The Dream of Akinosuke," in which the dreamer is whisked off to a sort of fairyland in order to marry the king's daughter -- but on waking from the dream, discovers exactly where he's been. Just super.

The stories are short but their length doesn't affect their potency; by virtue of being stories that have been handed down over several centuries, the reader also gets a look at ancient Japan from different angles, from the world of the samurai on down to that of the peasant. It is a world of constant upheaval in terms of the physical world and also vis a vis the traditional social order. One major exception is "Hi-Mawari," a story that takes place in Wales, obviously penned by Hearn himself. After the kaidan section is finished, the reader moves into Hearn's "Insect Studies," where he dwells on butterflies, mosquitoes and ants. While you might be tempted to skip them, don't. They're absolutely fascinating, drawing on traditional folklore, etc. from Japan and China.

I realize that not everyone is going to admire these stories like I do, but I love all things Japanese and this collection was simply superb. It might just be a good opening into all sorts of kaidan for a novice reader, and there are several works available in English that would make for great follow-up reading. Another thing worth noting here is that there is a movie called Kwaidan, based on Hearn's stories, two from this book and two more from other works he compiled. The two from this collection are "Yuki-Onna" and "The Story of Miminashi Hoichi;" these are joined by dramatizations of "The Reconciliation" (from Shadowings) and "In a Cup of Tea," (which is delightfully creepy) from his Kotto: Being Japanese Curios and Sundry Cobwebs.

I loved this book and I can't recommend it highly enough. show less

This requires a little bit of patience and imagination because imagery trumps thrills, definitely. Like a lot of ghost stories these end swiftly and unceremoniously and like all oral traditions, they lose a little something in the translation, so be prepared. Still an excellent collection. The essays on insects are really beautiful and the introductory biography essay on Lafcadio Hearn may have been my favorite part. Apparently it's been made into the sweetest looking movie I've never seen.

An interesting little collection of short folk-tales and bits of legend, translated and explained by Hearn. There's a good mixture of stories and I enjoyed them. The closing section is rather random - a set of little musings on insects, including a distinctly weird piece which ends up speculating on how evolutionary and societal advances could allow humans to reach the ethical perfection of ants, and perhaps become near-immortal. Sounds like a quote from a transhumanist character in a bit of 1970s sci-fi.

Hearn's short volume is enthralling. It retells ghost stories of ancient Japan. But it does so in a way both illuminating and engaging. His prose is sparse. Sometimes the stories are sparse. But there is always just enough hints in his descriptions to a allow the reader to engage in their own imagination. Nothing is better when it comes to tales of ghosts and suspense. And nothing is better when you want to let the readers themselves capture the essence of long lost times and places.

This is an indispensable book for anyone interested in Japanese history, culture, and thought. The stories all hint at traditions and ideas that still influence Japan today, and are just plain interesting.

Except for the ant stuff. I'm still not sure what the point of all that was.

Classic collection of Japanese ghost stories. Clever, eerie tales and weird scenarios. Highly recommended.