Name: Золотой Храм
ISBN: 9785389124325

Юкио Мисима

Роман знаменитого японского писателя Юкио Мисимы «Золотой Храм» — шедевр, заслуженно признаваемый самым читаемым в мире произведением японской литературы. Он основан на реальном событии: в 1950 г. молодой монах сжег знаменитый Золотой Храм в Киото. Под пером писателя эта история превращается в захватывающую притчу о великой и губительной силе красоты. Перевод романа выполнен Григорием Чхартишвили (Борисом Акуниным).

Золотой Храм

金閣寺

lily lily 

"I'm the kind that doesn't care about that sort of thing at all," he said.

I was amazed. Having been raised in the rough environment of the country, I was unfamiliar with this type of gentleness. Tsurukawa's gentleness taught me that, even if stuttering were removed from my existence, I could still remain myself. I thoroughly enjoyed being stripped stark naked. Tsurukawa's eyes, bordered with their long lashes, filtered away my stuttering and accepted the rest of me just as I was. Until then I had been under the strange illusion that to disregard my stuttering was of itself equivalent to annihilating that existence called "me"

People with comic looks like me are extremely adept at avoiding the danger of appearing tragic by mistake. I knew very well that if I once began to appear tragic, people would no longer feel at ease when they came into contact with me. It was especially important for the souls of other people that i should never appear to be a wretched figure

Yukio Mishima

The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

jess

Such an eloquent prose, an unforgettable story, and narration which makes the insane and absurd seem all too relatable. This novel documents Mizoguchi on his quest to unleash his inner self onto the outer world and destroy the epitome of beauty which taunts him every day. Easily my favorite of Mishima's works. 4.5.

altlovesbooks

"Each dead day had its charm."

Maybe I'm too dumb for this book, but it never really took off for me the way it clearly did for other people. I'm no stranger to Japanese literature, and some of the writing about beauty, conformity, and how the meaning of words/actions can become twisted if taken the wrong way was really wonderful, but...being honest, it was a chore to get through.

This was based on an actual real-life event (which was an interesting rabbit hole), and is from the point of view of the arson, Mizoguchi. We follow him as he grows up and joins the temple just like his father, but a lack of confidence, a stutter, and a belief that anything beautiful is cursed leads him down a dark path. It was an interesting read through the eyes of an unreliable narrator, but it also felt really repetitive. The same motives, the same themes, the same philosophical points are hammered home again and again, and I felt myself skimming a bit near the end to get to some new thought instead of rehashing old ones. 

There's clearly something here and I'm definitely in the minority, but I just didn't enjoy this one.

Because of the boyhood trauma of seeing his mother make love to another man in the presence of his dying father, Mizoguchi becomes a hopeless stutterer. Taunted by his schoolmates, he feels utterly alone untill he becomes an acolyte at a famous temple in Kyoto, where he develops an all-consuming obsession with the temple's beauty. This powerful story of dedication and sacrifice brings together Mishima's preoccupations with violence, desire, religion and national history to dazzling effect.

The Temple Of The Golden Pavilion

Wynter

Dramatic and poignant, like Mishima himself. I have a few issues with this translation, which seems a bit wooden sometimes, and several typos in this particular edition.

Katie Chua

this had a strong narrative pull to it, because we all know what will happen at the end. it's like what yiyun li writes in the nyrb about jon mcgregor: the beforemath. that's what this book essentially is, the beforemath of an event that fascinated mishima. 

he pulled it off. i loved the ending. hated the narrator. probably the whole point? effective writer.

Marissa Liu

Khoa Dang

Because of the boyhood trauma of seeing his mother make love to another man in the presence of his dying father, Mizoguchi becomes a hopeless stutterer. Taunted by his schoolmates, he feels utterly alone until he becomes an acolyte at a famous temple in Kyoto. He quickly becomes obsessed with the beauty of the temple. Even when tempted by a friend into exploring the geisha district, he cannot escape its image. In the novel's soaring climax, he tries desperately to free himself from his fixation.

Alexis Romero

nines

♱ zuzanna 

由紀夫·三島

Mizoguchi has been mentally troubled since he witnessed his mother's infidelity in the presence of his dying father. Mizoguchi feels utterly abandoned and alone until he becomes a pdest at Kinka-kuji, a famous Buddhist temple in Kyoto. Failing in his quest to find the warmth of human companionship in the temple, the young man, tormented by the temple's exquisite beauty, decides to destroy himself and all he loves. He feels he cannot live in peace as long as the temple exists. Mizoguchi, like many other troubled Mishima heroes, becomes obsessed with unattainable ideals. The Temple of the Golden Pavilion reflects Mishima's preoccupations with beauty and death in a clear and unmistakable manner. It is also an excellent example of a theme that frequently arises in Mishima's work: the resentment of the object of desire. Because this novel, arguably Mishima's best, reflects the author's suicidal tendencies, it also offers us insight into one of the twentieth century's greatest and most complex literary icons.

Temple of the Golden Pavilion, The

Mario Menti 

Viet-Hung Nguyen

Melih 

chris

Eugene

𓆨

Vladimir

Sans rien changer à sa pose parfaitement protocolaire, la femme, tout à coup, ouvrit le col de son kimono. Mon oreille percevait presque le crissement de la soie frottée par l'envers raide de la ceinture. Deux seins de neige apparurent. Je retins mon souffle. Elle prit dans ses mains l'une des blanches et opulentes mamelles et je crus voir qu'elle se mettait à la pétrir. L'officier, toujours agenouillé devant sa compagne, tendit la tasse d'un noir profond. Sans prétendre, l'avoir, à la lettre, vu, j'eus du moins la sensation nette, comme si cela se fût déroulé sous mes yeux, du lait blanc et tiède giclant dans le thé dont l'écume verdâtre emplissait la tasse sombre -s'y apaisant bientôt en ne laissant plus traîner à la surface que de petites tâches-, de la face tranquille du breuvage troublé par la mousse laiteuse.