The Setting Sun

Kazuko’s mother is a significant presence in the novel, yet she is never named. She is only ever referred to by her parental name, suggesting that she represents far more than any single person could. In the context of The Setting Sun, Kazuko’s mother is “the last lady in Japan” (127). In this sense, she represents an entire social class that has been made redundant by the changing nature of Japanese society. 

When Kazuko describes her mother, she does so in reverential terms. Early in the book, she describes how her mother eats unlike anyone else, using her hands to pick apart chicken with such refinement that Kazuko still thinks of this image when thinking of her mother. Kazuko sees her mother as a true aristocrat, a relic from a (now) bygone era, someone whose actions she could never hope to imitate. As she dies, so dies the aristocracy of Japan.

As well as representing an entire social class, Kazuko’s mother casts a long maternal shadow over her children. They are in thrall to her, so much so that Kazuko struggles with the shame of not having lived up to her mother’s grace and dignity. Meanwhile, Naoji is possessed by a similar amount of shame about his opium dependency. As he tells Kazuko, his only real fear is the prospect of their mother finding out. The health and financial consequences of his substance misuse disorder pale in comparison to letting his mother down. This illustrates the extent to which the children, even as adults, remain captured by the need for their mother’s approval. So long as they can look to her for approval, Kazuko and Naoji can find comfort in their difficult lives.

Like the aristocracy, Kazuko’s mother is a fading presence. She becomes sick almost as soon as the family leaves Tokyo for Izu, as though removing her from the refined environments of the country’s capital affects her well-being. The death of Kazuko’s mother takes place over the course of most of the novel. The protracted manner of her death, in which she is incorrectly diagnosed and given falsely optimistic prognoses, echoes the sudden and unpreventable decline of a social class in denial about their destruction. 

Kazuko’s mother dies, leaving behind her children to mull over her absence. They can barely afford her funeral, so the ceremony dedicated to her memory is a pale reflection of how important she is to them. She is gone and the world has changed on a personal and social level. The pathetic nature of her funeral illustrates the comprehensive impact of her death, leaving her children to reckon with the changed nature of a society in which they can no longer seek her approval.

At the beginning of The Setting Sun, Kazuko’s brother is missing in action. He enlisted in the military and, during World War II, his family lost contact with him. After many months of expecting the worst and presuming that Naoji is dead, Kazuko and her mother are given a moment of joy when they are told that Naoji is not only alive but on his way home to them. After navigating so much loss, Kazuko experiences an antidote to her grief.

The relief of Naoji’s return is short-lived. He returns as a dispirited, alienated young man with an opium dependency, the resumption of the substance misuse disorder that cost the family so much several years prior. Naoji’s previous dependency helped cause the end of Kazuko’s marriage, as she secretly sold her possessions to pay his debts. In many ways, the family being forced to move to Izu is Naoji’s fault. After his stint in the military, he has relapsed into his old ways. To make things worse, the family now lacks the material possessions needed to settle any debts he might accumulate. 

Despite this, Kazuko is horrified to realize that nothing her brother does will lower him in her mother’s estimation. Even as he threatens to destroy what little the family has left, Kazuko’s mother still prioritizes Naoji over Kazuko. He will always be her favored child, Kazuko realizes, no matter how diligently Kazuko cares for her mother and no matter how terribly Naoji may act. Nevertheless, Kazuko struggles to see the pain behind her brother’s actions. He is struck by acute alienation, having spent his life trying to free himself from association with the aristocracy, only to find himself without any sympathetic peers. He is cut adrift, returning to the side of Mr. Uehara even though neither man respects the other. 

As the novel progresses and Kazuko comes to understand the profound nature of her brother’s sadness, his debauchery takes on a tragic tone. In his final letter to Kazuko, Naoji admits that he finds nothing worth living for. His life is a series of mistakes, a constant reminder of how everything seems lacking to him. His talents and his opportunities have been squandered and he acknowledges that he has no one to blame but himself. His final—and perhaps only—charitable act is to ensure that Kazuko is not the person who finds his body, though even this implies that he will be found by the random woman who accompanied him home. This is indicative of Naoji’s tragic, traumatized selfishness: Even when he is trying to be kind, he cannot avoid destruction.