Yasunari Kawabata: “Celebrities who attended funerals”

  On June 1, 1899, a generation of writer Yasunari Kawabata came to the world. When he was two years old, his father died of tuberculosis. Misfortunes do not come singly. When he was three years old, his mother contracted tuberculosis while serving her husband, and she finally left him this year. Kawabata Yasunari may not remember the faces of his parents, but their early death left an indelible shadow in his heart. In his own words, “My parents died of illness one after another, which deeply penetrated into my young heart. It’s the horror of disease and calamity.”
  After Kawabata Yasunari’s parents died, his grandparents took him to raise him. The grandmother was fond of her grandson. Kawabata Yasunari later recalled in the article “Grandmother”: “When I was young, my body seemed to be very weak, and it was because of my grandmother’s strength that I managed to survive. People often pointed at me and said that I was so pampered that it made people frown. It’s so bad.” Once, because Kawabata Yasunari was naughty, the angry grandfather picked up the kettle beside him and beat him. My grandfather had cataracts, so he couldn’t see the boiling water being poured out. The grandmother felt distressed for Kawabata Yasunari, but did not dare to stop her bad-tempered wife, so she used her body to protect her grandson, and let the hot boiling water pour on her arms.
  Grandmother’s love temporarily soothed Kawabata Yasunari’s helpless and lonely heart. However, when he was seven years old, the person who loved him most in the world suddenly passed away. Kawabata Yasunari and sister Yoshiko were carried by their nanny’s husband and son to attend their grandmother’s funeral. It is conceivable that the death of his grandmother has hit Kawabata Yasunari. In works such as “Hometown” and “Grandmother”, he wrote sadly: On the day when my grandmother died, she said that her feet were cold, so he asked him to put socks on and cover up with a quilt. This was the first and last time that grandmother let him He does things for her.
  Kawabata Yasunari’s older sister, Yoshiko, has been fostered at her aunt’s house. In 1909, when Kawabata Yasunari was ten years old, Fangko, who was only fourteen, died unfortunately. Grandfather took Kawabata Yasunari’s hand to bury his sister. Although Kawabata Yasunari and his sister rarely meet, and their relationship is not deep, but after all, her sister is one of his closest people, and her death will undoubtedly cast a shadow of death on his soul. In this way, a family of six lost four people in a few years. Only Kawabata Yasunari and his deaf and blind grandfather stayed in that poor little earthen hut.
  When night fell, Kawabata Yasunari and his grandfather sat across from the oil lamp. The blind grandfather stubbornly guarded his heart under the oil lamp. He was the only protector of this unfortunate child. Kawabata Yasunari, because of the inexplicable fear of the unknown fate, stared at his grandfather’s face, which was the only place he felt safe and warm in the dark night. However, soon after, Kawabata Yasunari lost even this “only place where he felt safe and warm.”
  On the night of May 24, 1914, when Yasunari Kawabata was fifteen years old, his last close relative, his long-sick grandfather, also closed his eyes forever. At his grandfather’s funeral, all fifty families in the village shed tears of pity for him. The funeral procession passed through the village, and Kawabata Yasunari walked right in front of his grandfather’s coffin. Everyone who saw him said to him, “How pitiful, how pitiful!” Indeed, Kawabata Yasunari, who kept losing loved ones, said to him. Sympathy and lament. When his peers were still bathing in the arms of their relatives, Kawabata Yasunari put on sacks and filial piety for his relatives one after another. In addition, he carried out funeral services for a middle school English teacher and a close friend, and funerals seemed to be his childhood and boyhood occupation, so much so that his cousin called him a “celebrity who attended funerals”, and his cousin called him a “like The funeral home”, his cousin said he was “Mr. funeral home”, “clothes smell like graves”.
  Kawabata Yasunari later said sadly: “I am alone, helpless in the world, living a lonely life, and sometimes I smell the breath of death.” The character of inferiority, all of which had a significant and decisive influence on the formation of his personality and the qualifications of literature.