There have been many English translations of novels and essays by Yasunari Kawabata (1899–1972), Japan's only recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature (1968) to date. Seven titles (The Izu Dancer and Other Stories; Snow Country; Master of Go; Thousand Cranes; The Sound of the Mountain; Japan, the Beautiful, and Myself; and House of Sleeping Beauties) have been translated by Edward G. Seidensticker, who, since he has also translated other short stories by Kawabata, is the person most responsible for introducing Kawabata's works to the West. Other book-length English translations of Kawabata's works, all of which appeared after his Nobel Prize award, include The Lake by Reiko Tsukimura, Beauty and Sadness by Howard S. Hibbett, The Existence and Discovery of Beauty by V. H. Viglielmo, and Palm-of-Hand Stories by Lane Dunlop and J. Martin Holman. Therefore, The Old Capital is Holman's second translation of Kawabata's fiction.

Together with Snow Country and Thousand Cranes, this novel was cited by the Nobel Prize Committee as grounds for selection. The committee had available several European-language translations, including one in German by Walter Donat entitled Kyoto. The prominent Japanologist Donald Keene states in his history of modern Japanese literature, Dawn to the West, that The Old Capital "by no means deserved" such distinction. Now, nearly two decades after Kawabata received the Nobel Prize, English-speaking readers have access to the novel that generated such apparently divergent assessments.

To know certain aspects of Kawabata's life that appear to have influenced his development as a writer would be a helpful preface to a discussion of the novel. Born to a physician's family near Osaka, Kawabata was orphaned early in his life; between the ages of two and fifteen, he lost, one after another, his father, mother, grandmother, older sister, and grandfather. He called himself "an expert at funerals," and the sense of loneliness, of not belonging to a family (an extremely important social unit in Japanese society), pervades the spiritual life of many a protagonist in his works. After going through the elite course of the First Higher School (1917–1920) and the Imperial University of Tokyo (1920–1924), where he majored first in English then in Japanese literature, he and several friends began an avant-garde literary magazine, Bungei jidai (Literary Age, 1924–1930), and published stories, poems, and criticism heavily influenced by European modernism (e.g., Dadaism, Surrealism, et cetera). Calling themselves Shinkankakuha, which may be rendered as Neo-Perceptionist (or Neosensualist, or New Sensationalist) School, the group advocated the creation of a new style to express new perceptions: they favored startling images, unusual metaphors, and abrupt transitions. Although the modernist movement of the Shinkankakuha was short-lived, it had a lasting influence on many modern writers, perhaps because it struck a sympathetic chord with traditional poetic practice, in which associational leaps and linking between images or juxtapositions of seemingly unrelated images were frequent features. Kawabata's fiction is often explained as having the quality of haiku or renga (linked poetry). Extremely short paragraphs, often consisting of single sentences, also give a poetic rhythm to his narrative. His diction, too, is artfully simple yet subtle and evocative.

From the youthful lyricism of "The Izu Dancer" to the old man's fantasy and reverie in The House of Sleeping Beauties, Kawabata pursued his preoccupations with beauty, loneliness, transience, decay, death, and eroticism. He was already an established writer in the 1930s and 1940s with the publication of Snow Country, among others. His works usually contained both topicality and timelessness. Changing human events were often contrasted with nature in its recurrent cycle of seasons and renewal.

Kawabata was detached from the jingoism of the World War II years; he showed his independent spirit during the postwar era, when it was popular to denounce the old Japan and cater to the prevalent waves of Westernization, by declaring that henceforth he would write only elegies for the beauty of old Japan. Traditional arts and crafts, such as those represented by the ceramic tea bowls (Thousand Cranes) and the No masks (The Sound of the Mountain), are described in loving detail to emphasize their sensuousness and virtual timelessness, which are the expressions of the love and care that went into the creating and preserving of those artifacts. The same admiration for artistic excellence and the craftsman's devotion to his work are portrayed in The Old Capital as well.

Kawabata was active during the postwar era, serving as president of the Japan P.E.N. Club (1948–1965) and hosting its International Congress in Tokyo in 1957. In 1961 he was awarded the Order of Culture, Japan's highest recognition of achievement for a man of letters. His award of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1968 signified the international recognition of Japanese culture, a century after the Meiji Restoration of 1868. Kawabata's sudden suicide in 1972, therefore, surprised the world.

The Old Capital was serialized in the Asahi Shinbun, one of the three leading Japanese newspapers with national circulation, between October 1961 and January 1962. Newspaper serialization is a commonly used means of publication in Japan, and distinguished novelists such as Soseki Natsume (1867–1916) have published their novels in newspapers. Serialization has left its mark on The Old Capital in some repetitions or overlaps that were necessary to remind the reader of what had occurred earlier in the story. Kawabata revised the novel extensively prior to its publication in book form. Another curious fact about this novel, according to Kawabata's own afterword to the Japanese edition, is his heavy use of sleeping medicine during its writing; after the novel was completed he stopped the medication, and consequently had to be hospitalized because of severe withdrawal symptoms. It is noteworthy that hardly any hint of such an abnormal state of mind can be observed in the novel (with the possible exceptions of the heroine's father's obi [sash] design, which suggests his spiritual desolation, and of the heroine's nightmares).

The story is set in contemporary Japan, in the traditional city of Kyoto, the capital of Japan from AD 794 to 1868. The central character is a beautiful young woman named Chieko, a foundling adopted and cherished by the childless couple named Takichiro and Shige, who own an established but declining wholesale dry goods business. Takichiro is an artist by temperament and ill-suited to business. His gentle nature and lack of business acumen are taken advantage of by his employees. The story of a foundling who grows up to become a beautiful woman has its classic precedent in The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, a late-ninth- to early-tenth-century tale of Kaguyahime, the "shining" princess of the moon, who is temporarily banished to the earthly realm and, after rejecting all suitors, returns to the moon. Kawabata refers to this tale in The Old Capital. The tale of the beautiful unearthly princess Kaguyahime had deeply impressed the young Kawabata, as he explained in his 1969 lecture titled The Existence and Discovery of Beauty.

The events in The Old Capital take place between spring and winter, and in nine chapters they encompass seasonal observances and famous festivals of Kyoto, such as the Hollyhock Festival in May, the Bamboo Cutting Ceremony of Kurama Temple in June, the Gion Festival in July, the Daimonji bonfires in August, and the Festival of Ages in October. Running through the parade of festivals, reminiscent of picture scrolls in traditional art, is the plot line involving beautiful identical twin sisters, Chieko and Naeko, who have been separated since infancy. Chieko had been abandoned by her poor parents. The sisters meet by chance during the Gion Festival, but they are destined to live apart because of their different stations in life. Chieko and Naeko are typical Kawabata heroines—beautiful, pure, virginal, and good. Such young women represent the essence of beauty and pure love in Kawabata's aesthetic. The critic Makoto Ueda points out in Modern Japanese Writers and the Nature of Literature that Kawabata's concept of pure love relies on its unattainability and that young maidens are the ones most capable of it. The emphasis on purity and beauty connects aptly with the religious element of the novel: Chieko is a parishioner of the Yasaka Shrine; in Shinto belief, the purification ritual is of central importance, since it is believed that one can become blessed only in a state of purity.

Revolving around the twins are Chieko's devoted parents and her three admirers. Chieko's beauty attracts her childhood friend Shin'ichi, his brother Ryusuke, and a young obi weaver named Hideo. One of the characteristics of The Old Capital is the absence of a "villain" among major characters: everyone is basically kind and considerate. The conflict, or tension, in the novel is therefore much more internalized within each character than in some other novels by Kawabata, such as Thousand Cranes, in which the tea master Chikako assumes the role of the villain. This internal conflict in The Old Capital is usually between duty and sentiment, a recurrent theme in the Kabuki and puppet theater of the Edo Period (1600–1868). For instance, Chieko does not feel free to choose her own marriage partner despite her affection for Shin'ichi, because her choice will directly affect her father's business and her parents' future security. She feels that she must honor their wishes. This constraint is largely self-imposed, as that of a dutiful and loyal daughter, to repay the kindness of her parents by doing what is right. Her parents, on the other hand, do not really wish to impose their will on her. The orphaned Naeko, a country girl of the working class, feels strongly that her presence should not jeopardize the happiness of her sister, the heiress to a comparatively affluent merchant household. Therefore, she restrains her natural desire to see her sister more often. Naeko is depicted as the more resolute of the two sisters: by refusing to benefit from her family connection to Chieko, she demonstrates her sense of honor and independence. Hideo, an expert weaver of the Nishijin district, is in love with Chieko, but he knows that he cannot presume to propose to her because of his family's poverty. The only expression of his feelings for her he allows is the obi he weaves for her, into which he pours his heart and soul. When he discovers that Chieko has a twin sister, he asks Naeko to marry him. However, it is strongly suggested that Naeko will refuse his proposal, because she does not wish to become a substitute for her sister. In the meantime, Shin'ichi's older brother, who is the more forceful of the two, becomes enamored of Chieko and hopes eventually to marry her. Caught in the network of human relationships, Chieko at the end of the novel looks into the falling snow, as her twin sister departs after spending a night at Chieko's home for the first and the last time. With a typically Kawabatan sense of open-endedness, there is no clear resolution of plot.

The self-restraint of the characters is remarkable, in contrast to such typically Kawabatan self-indulgent male characters as Shimamura in Snow Country or Kikuji in Thousand Cranes. One might say that the characters in The Old Capital are idealized and somewhat lacking in complexity, at least on the narrative surface. Sensuality, a quality prominent in many of Kawabata's works, is suppressed in this novel, with no description of sexual encounters between men and women.

The beauty of nature provides the backdrop to the human drama. From the cherry-blossom viewing in spring to the appreciation of the austere beauty of the cedars (actually cryptomerias) at Kitayama in winter, the characters derive pleasure and solace from flowers and trees in season. White bush clovers attract Takichiro, while camphor trees calm the spirit of Hideo's father. The backdrop of nature is a constant reminder of the brevity of human life, and possibly of its duality, i.e., its inconsequentiality and preciousness. Another aspect of nature in Japan that is discussed in this novel is its bonsai-like quality: it is not wild nature but nature cultivated by man. Kitayama cedars are the prime example, being shaped and grown to a uniform size to produce fine timber.

One of the major impulses that caused Kawabata to write this novel is his apparent wish to preserve in writing some of the traditional beauty of Kyoto. The period from the late 1950s to the early 1960s was marked by the Japanese national resolve to achieve economic advancement, symbolized by Premier Hayato Ikeda's call to double the income of all Japanese. Such an "economic miracle" was often achieved at the expense of aesthetic and cultural considerations. Thus, in virtually all episodes Kawabata contrasts the old and the new, and what is new seems almost invariably negative in its impact. For instance, the great wave of tourism caught the old capital in the postwar economic recovery, causing Zen temples to "sell" mass-produced and hurriedly served tea ceremonies or to have monks give loud speeches to large numbers of tourists, in the interest of efficient processing. Even the traditional craft of silk weaving was being replaced gradually by mechanized looms that could produce five hundred obis in a day; hand weavers like Hideo were no match in productivity. These changes are viewed with regret by the characters in The Old Capital; however, their emotions are more resignation and acceptance than revolt or rejection. Thus the author's attitude toward social change parallels the protagonist's attitude toward her lot in life.

The emotional timbre of the novel is strongly Japanese, in the pervasive mood of sadness and acceptance of one's circumstances. However, it is not a defeat but a choice on the part of the characters. Choosing self-sacrifice for the sake of others instead of seeking self-fulfillment without regard to others signifies inner strength and stoic fortitude. For this reason, a part of Chieko's and Naeko's, character is reminiscent of the Japanese self-discipline described so eloquently by Lafcadio Hearn in his essay "The Japanese Smile" nearly a century ago.

Despite its emphasis on the traditional culture of Japan, The Old Capital also contains topical non-Japanese references, such as those to the surrealistic paintings of Marc Chagall (1887–1985) and the abstract paintings of Paul Klee (1879–1940), which appear to have been fashionable in Japan in the early 1960s. For example, Chieko gives her father a volume of photographic reproductions of paintings by Klee, Chagall, and other modern painters. The novel refers several times to the fact that the postwar occupation of Japan by the Allied (American) Forces had officially ended in 1952 and the American housing in the Kyoto Botanical Garden was vacated. The atmosphere thus created, and reinforced by such events as the discontinuation of streetcar service, is one of transition and mutability. It is a time of nostalgic retrospection of the old capital in its various seasonal moods. For this reason, the critic Kenkichi Yamamoto regards the city of Kyoto as the true protagonist of the novel, with the story of the twin sisters only subsidiary in importance. Nevertheless, the depiction of subtle emotions and thought sequences, much of which clearly reflect Japanese modes of human relationship, makes the novel a valuable "case study" of self versus other in traditional Japanese society. Consideration for others always comes before fulfillment of self. Such a manner of life is beautiful but also can be painful, as evidenced in the frequent pauses and silences of the characters. Keene notes in Nihon bungaku o yomu that what is Japanese about Kawabata is more the suggestiveness (yojo), i.e., the unstated but implied meaning, of his prose than any direct material indebtedness to classical Japanese literature.

Holman's translation is generally accurate, but it contains a number of problems, including omissions, misunderstandings of idioms, changing of nuances, misleading English equivalents, and errors of fact. Kawabata's use of the Kyoto dialect undoubtedly caused more than the usual level of difficulty for the translator, since Kawabata's dialogues are often cryptic and suggestive, never loquacious. This point is underscored, for instance, by Seidensticker, who states in his essay "Translation: What Good Does It Do?" in the collection Literary Relations East and West: Selected Essays, that he prefers to translate Kawabata's works, because they are more ambiguous and elusive, hence more challenging, than the works by Tanizaki (1886–1965) or Mishima (1925–1970). Since it is impractical to discuss all the problems in this translation of The Old Capital, only a few examples will be treated below.

Omissions are presumably the conscious choice of the translator and they are justified in passages containing too many specific details that add little to the substance of the work or puzzle those unfamiliar with the language and culture of Japan. A case in point is the list of eighteen terms for types of fabrics and styles of kimono. Omissions may be problematic when they affect the substance of the novel. For instance, Chieko's adoptive mother, Shige, tells her, "If you wanted to seek out your real parents [and leave us], I couldn't stop you, but I would probably die." The bracketed words are omitted. Since Shige's concern is not about Chieko's desire to find her real parents but about her leaving, the omission seems to alter Shige's characterization. At several points in the novel whole sentences, generally descriptions, are omitted; these do not detract substantially from the effect of the novel.

Misunderstanding of idioms occurs occasionally, and sometimes it creates an odd situation. For instance, in conversation with her friend, Chieko is described as being curt: "Chieko cut her off shortly." But the passage actually means that "Chieko paused for a moment." At another juncture, Naeko cries out in surprise, "although she was alone"; however, this phrase "hitoride ni" should be rendered as "spontaneously" or "automatically." In two passages the expression "aratamatta" or its variant "aratamatte," meaning "formal" or "formally," is confused with "aratamete," which means "again" or "anew."

Changes of nuances and uses of misleading English equivalents occur sporadically. The most frequent case (about ten times) is the consistent rendition of "shibaraku" (for a while as "for a moment." Even though it is not too far off the mark, the translation speeds up the action, thus altering the emotional tone of the novel. If the action in an Ozu film, such as Tokyo Story, is faster, with fewer silences and pauses, the audience will receive a different impression of it. Similarly, the genteel people of Kyoto would speak and act more slowly and deliberately than average Westerners. Another example of change of nuance occurs when Kawabata's characteristic ambiguity is removed by rendering passages containing such terms as "yo da" (seem to) or "rashii" (appear to) as definite statements of fact. For instance, "Chieko seemed to envy Masako's freedom," is rendered as "Chieko envied Masako's freedom." The choice concerns a shift in point of view, whether the narration at that point is external or internal to Chieko's mind. Generally, Kawabata carefully controls his narrative point of view, as seen in such masterpieces as Snow Country, Thousand Cranes, and The Sound of the Mountain. In the case of The Old Capital, the perspective shifts among Chieko, Takichiro, and a few other characters, showing the characters sometimes internally and at other times externally.

Misleading English equivalents include the following: a "storage shed" should be a "storehouse," which is more like a strongroom and much more substantial than the term "shed" implies. Another example of this sort is Chieko being described as wearing "galoshes over her shoes": Japanese rubber rain boots are not worn over any shoes, since there is no need for indoor footwear. A number of such misleading English equivalents suggest that this is a cultural problem; either the translator was unfamiliar with certain aspects of Japanese life or he was unable to convince the editor who was.

A few examples of errors of fact are as follows: for "two or three hundred houses" read "a hundred twenty or thirty houses"; "one hundred candles" should be large candles weighing "one hundred momme [unit of weight]"; for "their kimonos looked so shabby" read "I felt sorry for their fine kimonos [because their dance was so unskillful]." Errors of fact also occur when an action is attributed to a wrong person, a situation possible in translating from the Japanese language in which the subject of a sentence is omitted when the context makes it clear. For instance, in the recollected scene when Takichiro found the abandoned baby in front of his shop, he tells Shige, "I'm in a daze now"; however, the remark actually means "Why do you look so dazed?" Another example occurs when Shin'ichi and Ryusuke are visiting Chieko. Shin'ichi tells his brother that Chieko had said that since some years earlier she had regarded the two violets growing separately in the trunk of an old maple tree as adorable sweethearts and that they were close to each other but they would never be able to come together. To this, Chieko replies, "Stop it. Aren't you ashamed?"; however, the actual remark is "Stop it. You are embarrassing me."

Incidentally, the same passage paraphrased above is rendered in the translation as "Some years ago, Chieko said that the two violets are like two lovers. Though they are close to one another, they've never met." The parts emphasized by this reviewer have the wrong tense (or aspect, according to some linguists). The rendition of this passage raises interesting interpretative differences concerning the symbolism of the violets. The Japanese version suggests at least two possibilities for the "two lovers," namely Chieko and Shin'ichi for one and Chieko and Naeko for another. The English translation, on the other hand, by specifying that "they've never met," seems to limit the possibility to one couple, Chieko and Naeko, who had longed for each other but had not met; the use of the term "lovers," however, is problematic.

The above are but samples of problems in translation that this reviewer noted. However, it should be reiterated that, given the inherent ambiguities of Kawabata's evocative style and the use of dialect in all his dialogue, the translation emerges as a generally faithful and competent work. Most importantly, The Old Capital offers readers without direct access to the Japanese original a chance to read another acclaimed novel by Kawabata and to judge for themselves how it fits into the totality of the writer's aesthetic and novelistic vision. To that end the translator's efforts should be welcomed and appreciated.