In ‘The Sound of Waves’, the sea rages and calms, ebbs and rises again according to its own whims. The laws of nature commanding our respect as not only a backdrop but an intrinsic part of the story itself. Love, duty and honour are at the heart of it all and they too are presented as natural laws within Japanese island society complete with various whims and quirks of fate.
As such, it is a delight. A small-scale joy with the ability to stir and calm in equal measure as it finds its way through gloriously dense descriptions – by turns brutal and elegant, sweet and, above all, sensual.
Sensations permeate the story. Washing over the reader within the unrushed simplicity of the plot, which is as gentle as the misty spray of the sea that coats and caresses the skin. So vivid are the descriptions that you can almost taste the sea air, the salt on your lips, or the feel of the rain on your skin. In this way, we are offered a means of escaping to a new home for the duration of the story.
The complications within the plot are mostly minor, the products of gossip, rivalry, protectiveness and duty. In short, the plot is based around the characters rather than the characters being based around the plot. In this way, they are recognizably honest in the face of first love on a quiet, insular island, with life evoked in ways that transcend culture to become familiar to anyone who has ever lived or grown up in a small town.
The reason for this is simple. The characters who populate the island feel real while remaining an organic extension of the place they are from. Shinji, Hatsue and the others are vividly alive on the page and that brings the plot and the island Uta-Jima itself into focus too. There is a simplicity to this and a loveliness that is deceptively difficult to achieve while also making the open-hearted generosity of the people of Uta-Jima island well worth a visit when our own seas get a little too rough.
There is sadness in the background, but it never drowns out the hope that good will prevail in the end. Open your heart to it and it gives back more than seems possible from such a small story; reminding us that sometimes when a storm grows quiet, we are not necessarily in the eye of it. Sometimes it has passed and we still remain. Perhaps a little battered but still able to see in the tranquility that remains that there is beauty and perhaps even a better view of the storms that lie ahead.
