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.”  (Pearl S. Buck, The Big Wave, 19)

Pearl S. Buck’s short novel, The Big Wave was the third book of ten in my Siblings‘ 2018 Book Club. I don’t think any of us realized just how short it was until we found it on our library shelves! Nevertheless, as Buck fans, we were all pretty pleased with the story and with the discussion that it ignited.

The Big Wave takes a bold look at death without mincing words. In an instant, a tsunami destroys a Japanese town and kills most of its inhabitants, including the parents of young Jiya, who is then taken in by a farming family who lives higher up the hill. I appreciated the conversation about death, directed toward adolescents yet fit for all. It involves a clear description of how one might overcome the deep sorrow of losing parents or siblings, while also acknowledging that healing will definitely take time, and that this healing will only come through tears, sleepless nights, and even anger. The sole requirement for healing, however, is hope, and this seems to be Buck’s intended theme.

During our discussions of the story and its lessons, we focused mostly on one key question: When Jiya grows up and moves back to the beach, this time with a window facing the dangerous sea, was he being courageous or foolish? Most of us agreed that Jiya and the other fisherman were utterly foolish for putting their families in harm’s way once more, yet this seems to contradict Buck’s intent of teaching hope. In fact, one father tells his child early in the story:

“We must learn to live with danger,” he now said to Kino.
“Do you mean the ocean and the volcano cannot hurt us if we are not afraid?” Kino asked.
“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?'” (6)

In 2011, I clipped an article from World Magazine which showed the picture of giant stone, overgrown and in the middle of a Japanese wooded area with old Japanese words carved all over it. The article described the stone as a marker, a warning for the Japanese not to build anything below this point for the eventuality of tsunamis. Below the photo, a professor of disaster planning at a Japanese university says: “It takes about three generations for people to forget.” I turned that article into a challenge for our men’s basketball ministry, referencing Joshua’s commitment to “serve the Lord” (Joshua 1:8) and the very next generation forgetting who that Lord is (Judges 2:10). I then challenged the men to never forget what Christ did for us through His death on the cross, leaving them with this encouragement from Paul:

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called ‘the uncircumcision’ by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands—remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. (Ephesians 2:11-13) 

With this article and lesson in the back of my mind, I came into the book—and left it—feeling like the Japanese beach people were more foolish than bold, even if Jiya chose to do something his family before him had been too fearful to attempt, that is to modernize his home with a window and to face the sea without fear.

My sister-in-law also felt the same, that aged Jiya was a fool for refusing to learn from history. She said that such drastic events happen every generation, and yet people still forget. Why? She encouraged us: “We must teach our children to learn from the past, even if they feel very separated from it.” She named 9/11, that terrible event now 17-years past and after which most of our own children were born. What lessons can we teach our children about that day and all that came after? If we can appreciate having conversations with older people and hearing about their experiences and what they have learned, then we need to learn how to be those older people ourselves and to teach our own children.

While this book might be better suited for adolescents—especially those who have already dealt with death in the family—it is a fine read for adults as well. We all really enjoyed it and hope that all our selections are as thought-provoking as this.

©2018 E.T.

Read More from Pearl S. Buck:

• The Big Wave (1948)
• Kinfolk (1949)