For Whom Does the Bell Cricket Toll?

Yasunari Kawabata writes "The Grasshopper and the Bell Cricket" in the first person, which draws the reader into the story as we join him in his observation of a happy band of children.  This delightful vignette is a shining lantern against the dark seedy underbelly, in which many of the stories we have read dwell.  Although it is set during the nighttime, it is teeming with life and light.  Bright colors typically associated with Asian culture are present in the carefully crafted lanterns that bob along the embankment in the hands of their makers. The writer applauds the craftsmanship displayed in the lanterns, contrasting them with store bought objects he classifies as tasteless.  He takes pride in his Japanese ancestry and culture through his admiration of the lanterns.  The fact that the children made the lanterns with such care suggests that the perpetuation of traditional Japanese culture is assured, to the delight of the older observer.  This is further emphasized in his use of the term "wide-eyed" to describe himself as he admires the "old-fashioned patterns and flower shapes" (par. 4) of the lanterns.

We are reminded that the children are on an insect hunt when one boy calls out, having found a grasshopper.  He asks if anyone wants it and, although he receives many enthusiastic affirmative replies, he repeats his offer until he finally bestows it on a girl.  We are then treated to the discovery that instead of an ordinary grasshopper, the insect is actually a bell cricket.  The writer has an epiphany at this point.  In my cinematic imagination, the music swells and the lanterns shine more brightly as it dawns on him that the boy likes the girl and the name of each is emblazoned on the other with light from their lanterns.  Kawabata is nostalgic for youthful love and even a bit jealous, as he says, likely for the naiveté of the young lovers.  He likens the bell cricket to the rare kind of true love not to be mistaken for the common grasshopper that will bring heartache.  The writer is wistful as he envisions the children's future, but for me there is too much beauty to dwell on the probability of pain.  I as a reader am left satiated and the cricket's song echoes in my breast where hope resides.