Chieko is a demure young woman who was abandoned as a baby, but raised in a loving home by an upscale fabric wholesaler and his wife in the kimono district of Kyoto. She meets a childhood friend to view the cherry blossoms, she discovers a woman who looks exactly like her while viewing the cedar forest of Kitayama, and she has a beautiful obi woven for her by a young man. Everything that happens is elegant, quiet, and slow.

But Chieko's story is almost a sidebar to the city of Kyoto itself. The author lovingly depicts the natural beauties of the former capital in each season, as well as the shrine festivals which mark the passing of the seasons. Someone more familiar with Japanese culture than I would understand the references better, but even I had a sense of the understated love of tradition and nature that Kawabata expresses. Although I did not find the writing as inspired as in his earlier novel Snow Country, I found it relaxing to spend a couple of hours immersed in this world. ( )

It's been some time since I read this, and I don't recall any details. ( )

Japanese fiction translated into English; love letter to a fading Kyoto post WWII, in terms of the loss of traditional art forms and the influence of Westerners and outsiders.

I liked the descriptions of the gardens and plants-- folks used to go for walks in gardens a lot! -- there is also the bones of a storyline surrounding a young woman with multiple would-be suitors who discovers she was not "kidnapped" as her adopted parents have said, but a "foundling," one of two twins -- she was abandoned at a doorstep, whereas the other twin was kept (presumably because of a superstition or prejudice, it doesn't say). There is also a theme of loneliness throughout, which is said to be something the author suffered with on a personal level.

a short novel in an interesting, beautifully described setting. ( )

Excessive but interesting and a great time capsule. ( )

Chieko is the much loved daughter of a traditional shopkeeper in the old Japanese capital Kyoto. A foundling discovered on the steps of the shop, Chieko is raised in the old style, eschewing the modern changes brought with the Americans during post-war rebuilding. The story takes place over the course of a single year in which many changes from love to family threaten to overturn her neat and orderly life.

Kawabata received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1968, partly on the strength of this novel. It is easy to see why. The Old Capital is an elegant and understated novel, which beauty is owed just as much to the descriptions of the old Japanese traditions as it does to the story. While the story is, on the surface, that of the coming of age of a young Japanese girl, the story of the clash between the old and new was the true standout here. The whole tone of the novel is one of both tension and an overwhelming sense of melancholy in which the characters must navigate changes brought about by the war, as the old traditions yield to modern ways. The novel was short, the words sparse, yet it may have been one of the most balanced and harmonious novels I've read. It's hard not to describe this novel with those same words that one would use to describe the old Japanese culture. I am really impressed by J. Martin Holman's translation. It couldn't have been easy to fully grasp the gentle elegance of Kawabata's beautiful prose, but he acquited himself admirably, though I do wish I had the ability to read the novel in it's intended language, as I'm sure there are nuances that just couldn't be accurately translated. For anyone interested in the history and culture of post-war Japan, or even those just looking for a beautifully written story, I highly recommend picking up this novel. ( )