The Big Wave

“From the window of his room Kino looked down upon the few thatched roofs of the village, running in two uneven lines on both sides of a cobbled street. These houses faced one another, and those that stood beside the sea did not have windows toward it.”

This passage establishes that the fishermen’s houses on the beach are built without windows that face the ocean. As Kino learns, this is because of the fishermen’s fear and respect for the dangers of the ocean. This lays the groundwork for the contrast that Jiya’s house ultimately provides. The description of the houses also highlights their simplicity (their roofs are “thatched”) and vulnerability (they are in “uneven,” wavering lines). In this, it establishes the cataclysmic effect the wave will have on them and contrasts with later descriptions of the Old Gentleman’s castle.

“‘The sea is our enemy,’ Jiya replied.”

When Kino is confused by Jiya’s concern about being on the water late at night, Jiya explains that all the fishermen fear and respect the ocean as their enemy. This attitude reveals their personification of the ocean and reflects the Shinto belief in the spirits of nature.

“Sometimes the old ocean god begins to roll in his ocean bed and to heave up his head and shoulders, and the waves run back and forth. Then he stands upright and roars and the earth shakes under the water. I don’t want to be on the island then.”

Kino insists that the ocean cannot be angry, but Jiya says otherwise. Jiya and the fishermen personify the ocean as angry and unpredictable. They picture the ocean as a god who stands and moves the water—another reflection of Shinto belief systems.

“Deep the water was, and the land sloped swiftly down to that fathomless ocean bed. When Kino dived, he went down-down-down, until he struck icy still water. Today when he felt the cold grasp his body he understood why Jiya was afraid, and he darted upward to the waves and the sun.”

As Kino and Jiya play together on Deer Island and swim near the beach, Kino at last begins to understand Jiya’s fear of the ocean when he swims deep. Where before he has seen only the beauty, he now sees its depth and danger. The use of personification—i.e., Kino’s sense that the cold water is “grasping” him—underscores this shift, as the device has previously characterized Jiya and the fishermen’s descriptions of the ocean.

“But Jiya’s father held him by the shoulders. ‘Do not be so late,’ he said, and Kino, wondering, looked at him and saw that even this strong fisherman was afraid of the anger of the sea.”

When Kino and Jiya stay out too late, Jiya’s father waits for them on the beach. His display of anger and fear surprises Kino, who has previously assumed only children like Jiya are afraid of the water. In contrast, Kino’s father is not afraid when he comes home late.

“‘The ocean is very big,’ Kino’s father replied. ‘Nobody knows its beginning or its end.’

‘Jiya’s father is afraid, too,’ Kino said.

‘We do not understand the ocean,’ his father said.”

When Kino returns home, he asks his father why the fishermen are afraid of the ocean, and Kino’s father explains. His statement that they fear the ocean because they do not understand implies fear of the unknown. This associates the ocean with death, the fear of which Kino’s father describes similarly, making the ocean key to the exploration of The Acceptance of Impermanence and Death.

“‘No,’ his father replied. ‘I did not say that. Ocean is there and volcano is there. It is true that on any day ocean may rise into storm and volcano may burst into flame. We must accept this fact, but without fear. We must say, “Someday I shall die, and does it matter whether it is by ocean or volcano, or whether I grow old and weak?”’”

Kino’s father offers words of wisdom, explaining that the best way to live is to accept the inevitability of danger and death without fear. He argues that everyone dies, and it should therefore not matter what the method of death is.

“And yet, one day, it was the earth that brought the big wave. Deep under the deepest part of the ocean, miles under the still green waters, fires raged in the heart of the earth. The icy cold of the water could not chill those fires. Rocks were melted and boiled under the crust of the ocean’s bed, under the weight of the water, but they could not break through. At last the steam grew so strong that it forced its way through to the mouth of the volcano.”

The story depicts a volcano eruption, which leads to a tidal wave, with poetic prose that captures both the danger and awe-inspiring power of nature. In this passage, the destruction of nature is portrayed as an inevitability; for instance, the use of passive voice in the phrase “Rocks were melted and boiled” emphasizes the effect rather than the cause.

“All night while the others slept, Kino’s father kept watch. When it was dark, the sky was lit with red and the earth trembled under the farmhouses. Down at the fishing village lights in the little houses showed that other fathers watched, too. For generations fathers had watched earth and sea.”

Following the eruption, Kino’s father stays awake all night to watch for what will transpire next. As the narrative states, this is an ancient tradition, as all the men in the village know the dangers and must be prepared for whatever comes next. Details such as the emphasis on the smallness of the fishermen’s houses and the personification of the earth itself as “trembling” highlight the overwhelming power of the ocean.

“‘There are times when the gods leave man to take care of himself,’ his father replied. ‘They test us, to see how able we are to save ourselves.’

‘And if we are not able?’ Kino asked.

‘We must be able,’ his father replied. ‘Fear alone makes man weak. If you are afraid, your hands tremble, your feet falter, and your brain cannot tell hands and feet what to do.’”

Kino’s father once again reiterates the personification of nature as gods, in keeping with Shinto tradition. He also argues that people must face these challenges without fear, as fear only causes mistakes. This ability to face danger without fear is part of what makes the Japanese people who they are, the book suggests.

“‘It rang twice before you were born,’ his father replied. ‘It is the bell in the temple inside the walls of Old Gentleman’s castle. He is calling the people to come up to the village and shelter within his walls.’”

Kino’s father explains the Old Gentleman’s role in the community as he opens his castle to shelter the villagers amid the danger. While the Old Gentleman is generous and cares about the people, this action is also in keeping with his social obligations, thus contributing to the theme of The Importance of Community.

“Under the deep waters of the ocean, miles down under the cold, the earth had yielded at last to the fire. It groaned and split open and the cold water fell into the middle of the boiling rocks. Steam burst out and lifted the ocean high into the sky in a big wave. It rushed toward the shore, green and solid, frothing into white at its edges. It rose, higher and higher, lifting up hands and claws.”

The narrative again depicts the power of nature with poetic, descriptive language that creates an atmosphere of awe. At the same time, the personification of the water as having hands and claws underscores its danger. The rising tidal wave is portrayed as an inevitable consequence of the volcanic eruption.

“Upon the beach where the village stood not a house remained, no wreckage of wood or fallen stone wall, no little street of shops, no docks, not a single boat. The beach was as clean of houses as if no human beings had ever lived there. All that had been was now no more.”

Proving that all things are impermanent, the big wave erases all evidence that humans ever lived in the beach. This moment traumatizes Jiya as well as the other surviving villagers. The second half of the novella then centers on Jiya’s need to heal from this loss, developing the theme of The Power of Resilience.

“Just as he lived with them alive, he will live with them dead. Someday he will accept their death as part of his life. He will weep no more. He will carry them in his memory and his thoughts. His flesh and blood are part of them. So long as he is alive, they, too, will live in him. The big wave came, but it went away. The sun shines again, birds sing, and earth flowers. Look out over the sea now!”

Kino’s father is once again the voice of wisdom. As part of the theme of impermanence, he argues that Jiya must learn to accept that death and loss are natural and that pain eventually gives way to renewed joy. The nature of the wave itself symbolizes this ebbing and flowing of life.

“‘Ah, no one knows who makes evil storms,’ his father replied. ‘We only know that they came. When they come we must live through them as bravely as we can, and after they are gone, we must feel again how wonderful is life. Every day of life is more valuable now than it was before the storm.’”

When Kino wishes to know why the Japanese people must suffer such losses and pain, his father explains that it is not for them to know why these things happen, only that they do and everyone must learn to live with them. By accepting loss as natural, people can more fully appreciate the good things in life.

“The body began to heal first, and Kino’s father, watching Jiya tenderly, knew that the body would heal the mind and soul. ‘Life is stronger than death,’ he told Kino again and again.”

Several times, Kino’s father states that “life is stronger than death,” which encompasses the theme of grief and resilience. He knows that over time, Jiya will slowly heal and learn to live again, though this healing process requires the support of all around him.

“‘To live in the presence of death makes us brave and strong,’ Kino’s father replied. ‘That is why our people never fear death. We see it too often and we do not fear it. To die a little later or a little sooner does not matter. But to live bravely, to love life, to see how beautiful the trees are and the mountains, yes, and even the sea, to enjoy work because it produces food for life—in these things we Japanese are a fortunate people. We love life because we live in danger. We do not fear death because we understand that life and death are necessary to each other.’”

Kino’s father argues that the Japanese people are defined by their close relationship with death, as the islands of Japan are inherently dangerous. This allows them to be brave but also to love life more fully than other people do, which fits with themes of impermanence and resilience. Jiya echoes this sentiment in the end.

“It is my habit when the big wave comes to care for those who are orphaned. Three times the wave has come, and three times I have searched out the orphans and the widows and I have fed them and sheltered them. But I have heard of this boy Jiya and I wish to do more for him. If he is as good as he is handsome, I will make him my own son.”

After the big wave, the Old Gentleman arrives to see Jiya and offers to adopt him. This reflects his obligations to the community while also revealing his desire for an heir who will be handsome, intelligent, and a worthy representative of his family name. His remark that this is the third such wave he has seen is an example of the work’s fairytale-like atmosphere (the number three being a common motif in folktales).

“The walls were of fine polished wood, unpainted, but smooth and silvery. Under their feet, fine woven, padded mats were softer than the moss beneath the trees. On both sides of this passageway panels slid back to show beautiful rooms, and in each room were a vase of flowers, an exquisite scroll, a few pieces of dark polished furniture. Neither Jiya nor Kino had ever seen such a house.”

This description of the Old Gentleman’s castle showcases his wealth and status and contrasts with the poor farm of Kino’s family. Neither Kino nor Jiya has ever seen such luxury before, leading Kino to believe that Jiya will surely choose to stay with the Old Gentleman rather than Kino’s family. This contrast makes Jiya’s decision all the more significant.

“The great house, the silence, the beauty, all of this fell into place as the background for Old Gentleman himself. He was tall and thin, and his hair and beard were white. His face and hands were beautiful. The bones were delicate and the skin was smooth and brown. He looked as proud as a king, but his dark eyes were wise as an old scholar’s eyes are wise.”

Just as the castle contrasts with the farm, so too does the kingly presence of the Old Gentleman contrast with the working-class bodies of both the farmers and the fishermen. Ironically, Kino’s father proves to be the wiser man with his understanding of loss and life.

“And Jiya, seeing her happy little face, opened his arms and gave her a great hug. For the first time he felt comfort creeping into his sad heart, and this comfort came from Setsu, who was like life itself.”

As part of his healing process, Jiya comes to rely on Kino’s entire family for support. Additionally, he sees Setsu as representative of life and joy themselves, learning to laugh from her after his loss. Setsu thus represents Jiya’s acceptance of the duality of death and life and his resilience in the face of trauma.

“The big wave and the sorrow it had brought had changed him forever. Never again would he laugh easily or talk carelessly. […] Since the big wave had been so cruel, he could not bear cruelty, and he grew into the kindest and most gentle man that Kino had ever seen. Jiya never spoke of his loneliness. He did not want anyone to be sad because of his sadness. When he laughed at some trick of Setsu’s, or when she teased him, his laughter was wonderful to hear because it was so whole and real.”

As Jiya grows into a young man, he is forever changed by his loss and yet grows to be resilient and kind rather than bitter or cruel—an indication that he accepts the natural cycles of life and death. Setsu’s joyful and mischievous presence in his life is a vital element of his healing process.

“Jiya shook his head. ‘Your castle is not safe either,’ he told Old Gentleman. ‘If the earth shakes hard enough, your castle will crumble, too. There is no refuge for us who live on these islands. We are brave, because we must be.’”

Jiya echoes Kino’s father, who earlier argued that the Japanese people are fortunate to live in in danger because it has made the brave. Now Jiya says something similar to the Old Gentleman, explaining that he and the other fishermen must rebuild on the beach; they accept that no place in Japan is entirely safe, and they will face that danger head-on.