Items related to Ghosts

Morio Kita Ghosts ISBN 13: 9784770015594

Ghosts - Hardcover

 
9784770015594: Ghosts
View all copies of this ISBN edition:
 
 
The lingering existence of his mother's and sister's spirits shape the narrator's entire coming-of-age experience as he struggles to overcome his obsession with the past. By the author of The House of Nire.

"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.

About the Author:
Morio Kita was born in 1927, the second son of Mokichi Saito, perhaps the greatest traditional Japanese poet of this century. (He is the model for the literary dilettante in Ghosts, with his travel books and one slim volume of verse, which should indicate how fictionalized the world of this novel is.) He entered the medical department of Tohoku University in 1948, but attended few classes since he had already decided to become a writer, concentrating instead on the novels of Thomas Mann, who was to have a lasting influence on him. In 1950 he began writing Ghosts which he at first intended to be a short story, but it grew into the present novel, completed in 1952 and published in book form two years later. In 1953, the year his father died, he passed the state qualifying medical exam, and in November 1958 he became a ship's doctor on a six-month voyage to Europe, recorded in his comic novel Doctor Manbo at Sea, which appeared in 1960 and immediately became a best seller. His masterpiece, The House of Nire, was written between 1961 and 1963 and awarded the Mainichi Prize in 1964, establishing him as the leading writer he still remains.

The Translator: Dennis Keene, an English poet who has lived and taught in Japan for many years, is known for his distinguished translations of Mono Kita's The House of Nire and Saiichi Maruya's Singular Rebellion, Rain in the Wind (awarded the Special Prize in the Independent Foreign Fiction Award in 1991), and A Mature Woman. Ghosts was given the Noma Award for the Translation of Japanese Literature in 1992.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
The awe I felt in my uncle's presence was to vanish almost entirely one Christmas Eve. It all began well enough, but two appalling blunders proved to be irretrievable. In fact even the opening wasn't all that auspicious, for he made his entrance dressed in an antique cloak and top hat handed down from my grandfather which gave him a rather bat-like appearance, and he didn't look at all like the possessor of hidden, mystic power. Even more ominous was the fact that my smart-aleck cousin had been chosen as his assistant, since no more suitable child was available. The magician himself was slightly drunk, but he still managed a few tricks using the cards and the snake-covered box with some dexterity, and there was considerable applause. The trouble was, as even he soon realized, it was his assistant's eccentric posturings that really made the audience clap. A university student, even a very friendly one, is hardly going to enjoy being upstaged by a primary-school kid, and his obvious displeasure made him redouble his efforts, with elaborate gestures and poses of his own, to get the audience's attention back.

"Now, for my next trick," he said at last, in a wheezing voice that suggested he was suffering from throat cancer, and with an extravagant flourish he produced from somewhere a brilliant gold and green glass ball. It was about the size of an apple, and was so dazzling one was bound to think that if indeed a magic ball existed in this world then this must be it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have here in my hand a green ball, a treasure of peerless price. So fragile is it that, if I let it fall to the ground, it would instantly be smashed to smithereens. And yet, before your very eyes, I shall stop this ball in its descent; I shall stop it in midair and maintain it there !"

"I shouldn't do that if I were you," warned my cousin in a very cool, grown-up voice. "It could be dangerous."

"Keep out of this, junior. Right, here goes!"

He let the ball drop from his hand, but the next moment all his hopes were betrayed and the incredible happened, for the ball refused to halt in midair and plunged violently to the floor, where, as he had promised, it was smashed to smithereens. The magician's consternation was pitiful to behold, but he finally managed to recover his composure, this time producing a metal cup and calling me out from the audience to assist him. What I was instructed to do was to take up a very large kettle full of water and pour the entire contents into the cup.

Another cheeky comment from my cousin--"At least there's no danger of anything breaking"--made the magician curse him roundly under his breath, while he fiddled about with something inside his cloak. But by now the cup, which he was holding close to him, had filled up with water to the point of overflowing, and when I looked into his face I could see every sign of panic, so I stopped pouring, particularly as my cousin was shouting excitedly that it had started to slop over in a voice that would have put anybody off; but the magician only urged me to keep on pouring, keep on pouring away, since this was a magic cup that could take over half a gallon, and I shouldn't pay any attention to whatever the little pest might say; and the cup did indeed start to empty, and once more I believed in my uncle's magic powers. How this was done I didn't know, although there was some sort of device that drained the cup when it was on the verge of overflowing.

Then a dreadful thing happened. There was a dull ripping sound in the region of my uncle's chest, and immediately a large quantity of water flooded down his trousers, while the cup tilted and poured more water over his cloak. This all happened in a flash and, to a storm of laughter from the audience, the drenched magician was left standing, with his ears twitching uncontrollably, in a pool of water that had formed on the floor. Regardless of what kind of spectacle he was making, he then turned with terrible loathing on my cousin and tried to grab hold of him. But the boy was too quick for him, leaping nimbly over the chairs and making his escape, shouting out in a high-pitched, jeering voice that his uncle wasn't human but a monster with wiggly ears.

"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.

  • PublisherKodansha USA Inc
  • Publication date1992
  • ISBN 10 4770015593
  • ISBN 13 9784770015594
  • BindingHardcover
  • Edition number1
  • Number of pages193
  • Rating

Other Popular Editions of the Same Title

9784770017437: Ghosts (Japan's Modern Writers)

Featured Edition

ISBN 10:  ISBN 13:  9784770017437
Publisher: Kodansha Amer Inc, 1993
Softcover

Top Search Results from the AbeBooks Marketplace

Stock Image

Morio Kita
Published by Kodansha USA Inc (1992)
ISBN 10: 4770015593 ISBN 13: 9784770015594
New Hardcover Quantity: 1
Seller:
BennettBooksLtd
(LOS ANGELES, CA, U.S.A.)

Book Description Condition: New. New. In shrink wrap. Looks like an interesting title! 1.09. Seller Inventory # Q-4770015593

More information about this seller | Contact seller

Buy New
US$ 102.82
Convert currency

Add to Basket

Shipping: US$ 4.94
Within U.S.A.
Destination, rates & speeds