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Von der Lippe, George B.  “Death in Venice in Literature and Film: Six 20th-Century Versions.” Mosaic: A Journal for the Interdisciplinary Study of Literature 32(1) (1999): 35-54.

Von der Lippe places Don’t Look Now into a genre specific to Venice.  He compares Don’t Look Now to Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice, Ian McEwan’s Comfort of Strangers, etc. and finds common threads in them which he weaves into a genre.  Much in the same way that film critics found similar styles in American crime films and called them “film noir,” Von der Lippe sees these works as Venice-specific works (a term which he does not actually use).  In these works, Venice is defined by its labyrinthine design.  Venice is also described as a place of escape; as Von der Lippe writes, “All of the travelers have left their northern homes in search of that which has been lost.”  Venice is where their search takes them, but, unfortunately, they will never find what they are looking for in Venice.  Von der Lippe sets up Venice as the only logical place where Don’t Look Now could be set.  Venice is a disorienting place and a place of escape, and Don’t Look Now is about a couple escaping their troubles, searching for answers, and getting lost in their search (although it is only John who gets lost).  Von der Lippe shows that it is not just Laura who is impervious to the trappings of Venice, but all of the women in these Venice-specific works.  He writes, “Most often it is the women of these tales who are strong - who traverse the labyrinth with relative ease and confidence.”  He does not go into detail as to why it is the women who are able to “traverse the labyrinth,” but he describes in depth how the women do this in each work.
Von der Lippe focuses most of his essay on the recurring theme of the labyrinth in the various works.  He argues that, “central to the continuing fascination with Venice and the dominant metaphor in this archetypal tale is the “labyrinth.””  As we have seen in other essays concerning Don’t Look Now, the twisting, confusing geography of Venice is central to Roeg’s film...
Du Maurier, Daphne.  Don’t Look Now.  New York: Doubleday & Co., 1971: 1-57.

Daphne du Maurier’s short story deeply influences not only the events in Nicolas Roeg’s film of the same name, but also the themes Roeg explores in the film.  The plots of the story and the film are basically the same, although (obviously) there are scenes in the film, which do not come from du Maurier’s story.  The opening sequence of the film (which shows Christine’s death), for instance, is an invention of the director, Nicolas Roeg.  Du Maurier’s story begins at the café, relegating Christine’s death to the memories of John and Laura.  Surprisingly, the film stays very true to the short story and the added scenes do not deviate from the overall direction of the plot.  The sisters, in the story, are identical twins (although the ‘seeing’ sister is grayer than the other) and remain mysterious characters throughout.  In the film, their paths cross many times with the Baxters (John and Laura) and Laura has many conversations with them.  The female characters, Laura and the sisters, have a much larger role in the film than the short story, which focuses almost entirely on John and his struggles.
The main differences between the film and the short story are the addition of a character, Bishop Barbarrigo, and John’s job restoring the church.  In du Maurier’s story, John and Laura are on vacation in Venice and John’s job is never discussed.  A tertiary result of this is that there is no need for the Bishop character, whose job is to oversee John’s renovation of the church (in the film).  The central role of churches and church figures in the film bring a religious element to the film that is absent in the short story.  The theme of faith (and lack of faith) is therefore also absent.  The film creates a sense of dread using ever-present murders and strange coincidences (such as John’s near death experience on the church scaffolding).  The short story explores the themes of prophecy and ‘second sight,’ but there is not the same eerie sense of uneasiness.  The fact that the film leaves Johnnie’s illness ambiguous (instead of saying it is appendicitis as the short story does) plays into the theme of the supernatural and the occult...

Long’s book offers a very interesting take on Ikiru, even though it only mentions the film once, through a quotation from Richie’s book.   The book begins to have relevance to the film with its definitions of “pokkuri” and “rosui,”  which are the names of two types of death in Japanese.  As Long explains, “the character for “death” is rarely used alone in reference to individual humans, but instead appears in combination with other characters.”   Examples of this given by Long are “shinju,” which means “lovers’ suicide” and “senshi,” which means “death in war.”   The word pokkuri, as described by Long, is, “a special folk category of sudden death that encompasses the best ways to live and die.  The include not imposing a burden on others through an extended illness, not suffering, and not having to face death directly.”   This “ideal death” is compared to “rosui,” which is another ‘good’ way to die and is “the gradual decline of old age.”   Watanabe is not afforded the luxury of dying by rosui, so his only chance at having a good death is by dying in the manner of pokkuri.  If we view Ikiru this way, we can attribute new significance and meaning to Watanabe’s actions at the end of his life.  His alienation from his son, his leaving the car to cough up blood (during the “nightlife sequence’), and his lonely death in the park, all can be seen as attempts at dying a pokkuri death.  Watanabe might not want to both his son and the writer with his illness and drying alone at the park would certainly guarantee no unnecessary burden on his son (before he dies).  Also, by dying at the park, Watanabe could be trying to associate himself with the thing that gave meaning to his life and that he willed into existence, because, as I quoted before, the Japanese combine the “character for “death” […] with other characters.”
The only problem with the “pokkuri” understanding of Watanabe’s death is revealed later on by Long, “Dying without the presence of other (kodoku nashi, or “lonely death”) is considered a terrible fate.”   This interpretation adds understanding to the “wake scene,” in which the various coworkers of Watanabe try to convince themselves that he did not know about his cancer.  The coworkers do not want to believe that Watanabe would willingly experience such a terrible fate, so they try to show that he did not do it willingly.  It is very hard to understand the film in terms of both “pokkuri” and “kodoku nashi,” so maybe the best information that can be gleaned from Long’s book is that “preparation for death may mean arranging for property distribution, laying the groundwork for role inheritance, or doing activities the person has always wanted to do.”   This offers a completely different take on Watanabe’s actions than Richie, who saw him as initially searching for solace.  Through this interpretation, Watanabe’s adventure with the writer could be seen simply as a way of preparing for his death, although the film itself does not seem to suggest this.  While none of these terms may have direct application to Ikiru, they do offer an interesting point of view of the culture behind the film and potentially provide some insight into the film that no other book offers.