ياسوناري كواباتا

سيرة ذاتية
وُلد كواباتا في أوساكا،

- وفقد والديه عندما كان في الثانية من عمره ليقوم جداه بتربيته بعد ذلك،
- وكان له أخت كبرى أخذتها عمة بعيدة لتربيها.
- ماتت جدته عندما أصبح في السابعة من عمره،
- وتوفيت شقيقته التي رآها مرة واحدة فقط منذ موت والديه عندما أصبح في العاشرة،
- وعندما صار في الخامسة عشرة من عمره توفي جده.
- وبفقدانه كل أفراد عائلته الأقربين، انتقل للإقامة مع عائلة والدته (آل كورودا)،
- ثم انتقل في يناير 1916 إلى بيت داخلي قرب المدرسة الثانوية حيث يدرس، وبعد تخرجه منها في 1917

انتقل إلى طوكيو آملاً في اجتياز امتحان المدرسة الثانوية الأولى التي كانت تعمل بإدارة جامعة طوكيو الإمبراطورية. نجح في الامتحان ودخل كلية الدراسات الإنسانية ليتخصص في اللغة الإنجليزية، وفي يوليو 1920 تخرج من الثانوية وبدأ دراسته في جامعة طوكيو الإمبراطورية في نفس الشهر.

Yasunari Kawabata (, Kawabata Yasunari?, 14 June 1899 – 16 April 1972) was a Japanese short story writer and novelist whose spare, lyrical, subtly-shaded prose works won him the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1968, the first Japanese author to receive the award. His works have enjoyed broad international appeal and are still widely read.

Biography
Born in Osaka, Japan, into a well-established doctor's family, Yasunari was orphaned when he was four, after which he lived with his grandparents. He had an older sister who was taken in by an aunt, and whom he met only once thereafter, at the age of ten (July 1909) (she died when he was 11).
Kawabata's grandmother died when he was seven (September 1906), and his grandfather when he was fifteen (May 1914).
Having lost all close relatives, he moved in with his mother's family (the Kurodas).
However, in January 1916, he moved into a boarding house near the junior high school (comparable to a modern high school) to which he had formerly commuted by train. Through many of Kawabata’s works the sense of distance in his life is represented. He often gives the impression that his characters have built up a wall around them that moves them into isolation. In a 1934 published work Kawabata wrote: “I feel as though I have never held a woman’s hand in a romantic sense[…] Am I a happy man deserving of pity?”. Indeed this does not have to be taken literally, but it does show the type of emotional insecurity that Kawabata felt, especially experiencing two painful love affairs at a young age.
After graduating from junior high school in March 1917, just before his 18th birthday, he moved to Tokyo, hoping to pass the exams of Dai-ichi Koto-gakko (First Upper School), which was under the direction of Tokyo Imperial University. He succeeded in the exam the same year and entered the Humanities Faculty as an English major (July 1920).
Kawabata graduated in 1924, by which time he had already caught the attention of Kikuchi Kan and other noted writers and editors through his submissions to Kikuchi's literary magazine, the Bungei Shunju.
In addition to fiction writing, Kawabata also worked as a reporter, most notably for the Mainichi Shimbun. Although he refused to participate in the militaristic fervor that accompanied World War II, he also demonstrated little interest in postwar political reforms. Along with the death of all his family while he was young, Kawabata suggested that the War was one of the greatest influences on his work, stating he would be able to write only elegies in postwar Japan. Still, many commentators detect little thematic change between Kawabata's prewar and postwar writings.
Kawabata apparently committed suicide in 1972 by gassing himself, but a number of close associates, including his widow, consider his death to have been accidental. One thesis, as advanced by Donald Richie, was that he mistakenly unplugged the gas tap while preparing a bath.
Many theories have been advanced as to his reasons for killing himself, among them poor health (the discovery that he had Parkinson's disease), a possible illicit love affair, or the shock caused by the suicide of his friend Yukio Mishima in 1970.[3] Unlike Mishima, Kawabata left no note, and since (again unlike Mishima) he had not discussed significantly in his writings the topic of taking his own life, his motives remain unclear. However, his Japanese biographer, Takeo Okuno, has related how he had nightmares about Mishima for two or three hundred nights in a row, and was incessantly haunted by the specter of Mishima. In a persistently depressed state of mind, he would tell friends during his last years that sometimes, when on a journey, he hoped his plane would crash