A charming tale of pre-war Japan and modern Japan. Ozu, Flatfish and Aiko are suprisingly sympathetic, and Ozu's son is despicable but believeable. I enjoyed it very much. If you like the Japanese or their style of fiction, this is the book for you.

As translated by Van C. Gessel, _When I Whistle_ uses spare, simple prose in switching back and forth between the stories of Ozu, a nostalgic World War II veteran, and his son Eiichi, an ambitious doctor. As Ozu's reminiscences move closer to the present, the two narratives interlock with devastating effect. Like much of Endo's other writing, _When I Whistle_ is elegaic and concerned with serious moral issues; however, it is not overtly theological (Endo's Catholicism has led some to describe him as a Japanese Graham Greene). Plot points and themes which could be oppressively heavy in the hands of a lesser writer are here leavened by humor (notably in the character of the hapless Flatfish) and unspooled in beautifully observed scenes. The sentences may be easy to read, but it is difficult to reach the end of the novel unmoved...

Shusaku Endo draws on a well of personal experience as well as powerful, thoughtful philosophies concerning family relationships, the trauma of war, transistion to the modern age, generative versus stagnant personality types and basic human nature in order to create this vivid, yet restrained, novel. 'When I Whistle' is the story of Ozu, a man whose simpleness betrays the depth of his expreience, and his son Eichi. Their contrasting attitudes and views on morality allow Endo to masterfully weave a conflict which not only entices the reader to the plot, but forces the reader on a journey of questioning personal philosophies and beliefs. Though When I Whistle is a moving literary work and exemplarary of Japanese aesthetic principles, it is an easy read. I thoroughly reccomend it.

I stumbled across this novel in the library and picked it up merely because I am an Endo fan. I experienced the book on two levels. On one, the novel relates the trauma of unreturned love. Most people can relate to that theme, and it tended to draw me through the story. The parallel with Jesus' life is not meant to be exact. Mitsu represents the suffering of humanity, as she suffers in her one way. Every episode of Mitsu's life is tragic. For some people, the tragedy might be oevrdone, but I was left sleepless by it. I would recommend The Girl I Left Behind to anyone who enjoys Shusaku Endo's novels.

My continued fondness of Endo's writing has brought me to this book. It is a wonderful example of Endo's early writing, set in Japan with well developed characters and interesting plot. This is particularly true when compared to his more recent book, Deep River, which was disappointing, badly researched and an unsuccessful move away from his best genre - Japan. Set in post-war Japan, the story is about the interwoven lives of Yoshioka and Mitsu. As a university student, Yoshioka deflowers Mitsu and then shuns her, only to have Mitsu crop up repeatedly in his life. She is a country girl unable to get over her fondness for Yoshioka, tainting the rest of her life. However, she never looses her tragic flaw of over-caring towards other people. Endo, a Christian, tries to interweave the fate of Jesus with that of Mitsu. Possibly his way of telling the Christian story in a Japanese setting. Although I'm not sure how many readers would actually draw this parallel, it is an interesting theme in this book and recurring theme he uses in his other books as well. In the afterword, Endo explains how some western women may misunderstand the submissiveness of the female characters in his book, I find that statement superfluous and somehow trying to be politically correct in an afterthought. For me it is rather more interesting to think of what Yoshioka felt and what his actions may have been after having learned of Mitsu's fate. Is Endo trying to send a message to Japanese men? Or Japanese salarymen in particular? I, in particular, enjoyed Endo's modern description of the life of a salaryman. Yoshioka comments during his wedding: "Our entire lives as salarymen are conducted like episodes on a conveyor belt...companies these days don't recognize the differences between individuals" (p.178). Taking into consideration that this book was written some thirty years ago, it is amazing to think how little Japanese society has changed to date. Endo also criticizes his writing technique in his afterword and I have to add that the comedy-like tone at the beginning of the book is inappropriate and immature, when contrasted to the story and the tone of the remainder of the book. I would like to end by quoting a remark that Yoshioka makes at the end of the book: "If Mitsu has taught me anything at all, it was that every single person with whom we cross paths during our journey through life leaves an indelible mark on us." (p.192).

This is a rather short novel about three different entities dealing with their retiring years. One of the entities is the director of a provencial Japanese weather station who is the local expert on a dormant volcano. Another is an apostate Catholic Priest who senses that his life ceased its' meaning when he ceased his calling. The last entity is the volcano itself. Although we don't sense a personality to the volcano, it is a metaphor to the other two; is there life left in it or has it spent all it had already.

There is a good deal of reflection by the two human characters about their lives. The director discovers that his obsession with the volcano cost him the love of his family. The apostate priest is "tolerated" in his declining years. He is obsessed with proving his theory that Japanese culture is incompatable with Christianity. He bases this on his theory that Japanese do not sense guilt as Western cultures do. Thus Christ's death on the cross loses its' meaning.

We read on in hopes for an epiphany of sorts that would allow the two men to resurrect their lives. In the end we are left only wondering about the future of one of the entities.