There are some books that are meant to be read slowly and deliberately and sometimes meant to be read multiple times. In the case of Fumiko Enchi's Masks, both are true, but I will add that in this case there are other works to read and study alongside the text that will only enhance the enjoyment and meaning.
Enchi is really a remarkable writer and I am not sure I would have picked this book up had I not set out to read Japanese literature in particular this summer. In the past I've not really been drawn to that part of the world as either a real or bookish destination. Not one that I searched out anyway rather than simply by chance. Maybe it has always felt so foreign (and not just in the literal sense). The language feels a little bit impenetrable to me and the culture unlike anything else I have ever encountered.
I am finding that the more I read and look and watch (I have been watching quite a few films by Yasujiro Ozu as well--and he is amazing) that the more fascinated by it I am. Watching Japanese films alongside my reading has given me a visual reference that has been really helpful. The Ozu films have covered the years of the first half of the twentieth century in Japan, so I hope to expand and watch more contemporary films, too.
So I have read the novel and have set it aside to let it percolate and hope that as I read other books that I can return to it later with a better understanding of the culture and history and literature to make a second reading (I hope sometime later this year) better. Just a few things now, however, to tidy up my experience (and to come back to later).
Fumiko Enchi is, according to the Dictionary of Literary Biography I referenced, one of those most renowned in Japan. She won more postwar prizes than any other woman writer. She wrote not only novels, but plays, essays and translations of Japanese classics into the modern language.
"She associates sexuality-and, in her later works, the problems of aging-with self-identity and self-expression, and she thus exposes the hidden world of women who have been taught to suppress such feelings and needs."
Her father was a Japanese linguist and professor at Tokyo University. She was the youngest child and apparently "at the center of her father's affection", which meant she spent much time with him in his study surrounded by literature and scholarly works. Her grandmother on her father's side told her bedtime stories from the Edo (1600-1867) period, and interestingly both exposed her to Kabuki plays. Her mother wanted her to have more ladylike hobbies and must have shook her head at such a bookish daughter. Enchi also read Japanese classics like The Tale of Genji and the works of Junichiro Tanizaki (both are on my reading wishlists).
Considering her background and early literary influences it is not surprising then, that Masks, such a slim story is quite rich in Japanese culture and literature in the telling. The novel is split into three sections, each title references the masks used in Noh dramas. The story is essentially a revenge tale at its most basic. it is about a wife wronged by her husband and seeks retribution via her own daughter. Sounds complicated and a little messy? It is, but interwoven are references to The Tale of Genji and the meanings behind those Noh archetypes. It is not impossible to read the novel and understand it without prior knowledge of the literary references, yet an inquisitive reader will be drawn to learning about those deeper meanings. I don't feel equipped to tackle a reading of all these things, but I do want to share those masks with you.
The first section is "Ryo No Onna" which means "spirit woman". This is represents the spirit of "an older woman tormented beyond the grave by unrequited love".
The second section is "Musagami" which means "that of a young woman in a state of frenzy".
The third section is "Fukai" which means "deep well" or "deep woman". The mask is meant to show a middle age/mature woman who understands the inevitability of death.
Spoilers here. So, it all follows. Mieko, a writer, the mother/mother-in-law has been wronged by her husband. Her son has died in a mountain climbing accident, but her daughter-in-law, Yasuko, still lives with her. Also, Mieko's daugher, Harume (a twin of Yasuko's deceased husband), who was born with intellectual disabilities, is cared for at home. Yasuko is a love interest of not one man but two who happen to be friends--one a psychologist and the other a university professor. I won't try and go into details or try and describe some of the nuances of the story, but Mieko and Yasuko sets up one of the men to unknowingly sleep with her daughter Harume. The intent is to carry on the bloodline of her lover over her husband who had been unfaithful but at a very tragic cost. The set up of the man is dreamlike and otherworldly and he does not realize he has slept with someone other than Yasuko, so you can see (though I am not explaining it well) the use of the Noh masks in describing the arc of the story.
I borrowed a couple of books about Noh Masks that were very helpful in discussing Noh Theater and the meaning of the masks (which are used in the plays but seem to be somewhat interchangeable depending on who is staging the play) as well as offering lots of great visuals: The Secrets of Noh Masks by Michishige Udaka and a wonderful two-volume set, Heaven Has a Face, So Does hell: The Art of the Noh Mask by Stephen E. Marvin.
I want to try one of Fumiko Enchi's other works, but I will be choosing carefully as I suspect another book will only branch off in many other directions. What I most loved about this reading experience is getting a feel, though barely dipping in a toe, of what classic Japanese literature and culture is like.