It was like being in love with someone he had never seen (25). He preferred not to savor the ballet in the flesh rather he savored the phantasms of his own dancing imagination, called up by Western books and pictures. He called his work research, but it was actually free, uncontrolled fantasy. It was an unrivaled armchair reverie, a lyric from some paradise. His main occupation is writing about ballet despite never seeing it performed.Ī ballet he had never seen was an art in another world. His life is all fantasy and no substance. I can’t bring myself to label Shimamura and Komako’s entanglement as such. I’ve seen others describe Snow Country as a love story of sorts. Snow Country relays the affair between Tokyo dilettante Shimamura and lowly hot spring geisha Komako. But I shut the final page deflated and dissatisfied. I trudged on because I desperately wanted to get it, to feel something for Snow Country. It elicited no emotional response from me. How do you review a book that is just so… nothing? I just wasn’t moved by it whatsoever. My Vintage International edition was translated by Edward G.
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