5 Centimeters Per Second Novelization

[jsyschan]

Hi, I'm kinda new here, and I love the work you guys have done. If its alright, I have a suggestion for a project. If you guys have seen the movie "5 Centimeters Per Second", then you know how good it is. There is a novelized version of the book, and as far as I can tell, I have not seen an English version of it. No reports have been seen of it being licensed to an English publisher, though I really wish it did. It is not a light novel per say, but for fans of 5 Centimeters Per Second, you know how touching and meaningful the story is. I am just a fan who wishes to convey this story to others, and I hope a translated version into English can help.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/5_Centimet ... cond#Novel
http://5cm.lhyeung.net/novel.php

For all the fans out there, this has been translated into a manga also, and it has been said that the novel presents more information not seen in either the film or the manga. I suppose there are things that only can be conveyed through a novelization.
There is a website that has already translated the novel up to the last chapter. He says he's busy, and I was wondering whether the good people of Baka-Tsuki can help him out and satisfy some Shinkai fans by translating the last story. Also, with a new novel of another side coming out, perhaps you guys can consider translating that too someday.

http://blog.lhyeung.net/lang/en-uk/2011 ... ide-novel/

Again, to be honest, I am new here. I read the new project posting, and I will try my best to fulfill those requirements. With that being said, I do not have RAWs of the novel, and I hope that other fans who read this post can help out by finding it if they can. I don't know if this request will come to fruition, but I pray for the day that it does. Oh, by the way, if you haven't seen the movie, please watch it or the trailer and respond.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxKn5AwOTis

---------------------------------------

"Do you wish to see 5 Centimeters Per Second Translated?"

"Yes"

"Not Really (Please give a reason)"

"No (Please give a reason)"

[vermiliongrey]

out of sheer curiousity, why would you want the novel translated?

In my opinion, the movie is a masterpiece as well as the original format. Wouldn't it make sense for anybody to just watch the movie rather than read a novelization?

[rpapo]

I agree the movie was very well done, and I would be amazed if anybody less than a master at novelization could do justice to it.

IMHO, the original version of a creation (be it novel, manga, anime, movie, play, you name it) is normally the best version, and the derivitives, whatever kind they are, are simply that: derivitives.

[jsyschan]

out of sheer curiousity, why would you want the novel translated?

In my opinion, the movie is a masterpiece as well as the original format. Wouldn't it make sense for anybody to just watch the movie rather than read a novelization?

I agree the movie was very well done, and I would be amazed if anybody less than a master at novelization could do justice to it.

IMHO, the original version of a creation (be it novel, manga, anime, movie, play, you name it) is normally the best version, and the derivitives, whatever kind they are, are simply that: derivitives.

First off, thanks for replying. Glad to know that this post got some support. Yes, I agree that the original source, the film, is the best. However, after reading the first two chapters of the novelization that someone posted on the internet (see the link I posted), I gotta say, the novelization tells us of some stuff not found in the movie. I mean, I read about Takaki's POV in the first act, and it got more in depth into it. I like the movie, but I also like the fact that the novel went into more in depth with the character's feelings, even if you may think that at some points, it omits other important parts as well. That's why I would like it translated, as well as the other side story soon to be out, talking about Akari's POV in part 1, Takaki's POV in part 2, and a third person view in part 3.

[jsyschan]

I agree the movie was very well done, and I would be amazed if anybody less than a master at novelization could do justice to it.

IMHO, the original version of a creation (be it novel, manga, anime, movie, play, you name it) is normally the best version, and the derivitives, whatever kind they are, are simply that: derivitives.

While I hear what you are saying, and I can see from where you are saying it, I feel, for this film, that these other versions, novel or manga, are supplementary to the original film. For instance, I read the manga, and it filled in some gaps. For me, it provided more information about how close they are in part 1, it showed what Akari was feeling in part 2 (and it also showed Takaki's kind yet dark, cold eyes that was "rejecting" Kanae), and it also provided more background information about Takaki's relationships in part 3 as well as tell us what Akari's letter finally said (and a bonus chapter about Kanae's attempts to make peace with herself). While you can see them as derivatives, I feel that they help supplement and enhance the original movie by providing more detail that can be left out in the original film.

[jsyschan]

Ok, I wanna get people to vote more on this, so I hope this will help get attention.

Here's a link to a trailer of the film.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxKn5AwOTis

Here's a link to a song from the film. Listen to it and be inspired.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IG_FY3v0uWk

[jackyewkj]

Yes, while agreeing that the original movie is the best, i still hope that the translated version of the novel could be materialized.

I find it very strange in fact. Some of the missing parts in the movie, i found them in the manga. Likewise, i hope to find more untold parts in the novel, especially their feelings for each other, how did they stopped contacting each other and everything else that everybody are expecting.

I felt that, Makoto Shinkai had purposely left all the clues in his productions whether the movie itself, the manga or the novel. He'd probably scattered all the infos all around so that we could discover them ourselves. After all, he had published the novel, in many ways he hoped everyone could read it too. It was all along Shinkai's intention I guess.

I don't know why some peoples were so rigid that they stick to - not wanting to know more about the story.

It may be a mere movie/anime, however to me, it is a beautiful story between two persons. I sincerely vote that the novel could be translated and shared.

[jsyschan]

Yes, while agreeing that the original movie is the best, i still hope that the translated version of the novel could be materialized.

I find it very strange in fact. Some of the missing parts in the movie, i found them in the manga. Likewise, i hope to find more untold parts in the novel, especially their feelings for each other, how did they stopped contacting each other and everything else that everybody are expecting.

I felt that, Makoto Shinkai had purposely left all the clues in his productions whether the movie itself, the manga or the novel. He'd probably scattered all the infos all around so that we could discover them ourselves. After all, he had published the novel, in many ways he hoped everyone could read it too. It was all along Shinkai's intention I guess.

I don't know why some peoples were so rigid that they stick to - not wanting to know more about the story.

It may be a mere movie/anime, however to me, it is a beautiful story between two persons. I sincerely vote that the novel could be translated and shared.

Thank you for your response. I feel the same way about the novel like you man. I'm busy with work, but I'm hoping that I can get something accomplished. In the meantime, like I mentioned before, the person that did translations of the first two chapters: Here are links to them:

http://5cm.lhyeung.net/01-cherryblossomp.php#

http://5cm.lhyeung.net/02-cosmonaut.php

Give credit where its due.

Help support the cause! Here's a link to where you can contact him! Ask him to help out, and spread the word!

http://lhyeung.net/en/contact.html

[Sinzd3]

I myself am a huge fan of Byousaku 5cm. I watched the movie more than 50 times and I have read the manga and translated novel on LHyeung. I found out that the movie is definitely a masterpiece no doubt BUT the novel itself also deserve credit. The novel has so much extra details that wasn't enclosed in the movie. Furthermore it also gives different views and perspectives for the readers to be more engrossed and able to further imagine & feel. Let it be being the male / female protagonist or even from a narrative point of view. I really hope it will be translated. If there was an official english novel I wouldn't really mind spending on it even if I have to starve myself

[jsyschan]

I myself am a huge fan of Byousaku 5cm. I watched the movie more than 50 times and I have read the manga and translated novel on LHyeung. I found out that the movie is definitely a masterpiece no doubt BUT the novel itself also deserve credit. The novel has so much extra details that wasn't enclosed in the movie. Furthermore it also gives different views and perspectives for the readers to be more engrossed and able to further imagine & feel. Let it be being the male / female protagonist or even from a narrative point of view. I really hope it will be translated. If there was an official english novel I wouldn't really mind spending on it even if I have to starve myself

It's been a while since I posted this thread, so I apologize for not keeping up with it as I should have. That was irresponsible of me, and I hope to show a better example for people who want to post new projects. Let me just say, I did some research on LHYeung's website, and I would like to say that he has finished the 5 Centimeters Per Second Novelization translation in English. Now, you can go to his site and read his translation and thank him for all his hard work. Here's a link to his site along with a link to Chapter 3.

http://5cm.lhyeung.net/

http://5cm.lhyeung.net/novel/03-5cmpersecond.php#

Now that its finished, I kinda feel that there's really not a reason that it should be on Baka Tsuki. I mean, he finished it, and if he wants to put his work on the site, that's great, but there's already a finished site up, and he should get the credit for all his hard work. I guess that this thread's kinda worthless, but at least the links are here if people want to read it. Give credit where it's due, right? I suppose all that's left is for someone to hopefully translate the "One More Side" novelization.

http://blog.lhyeung.net/lang/en-uk/2011 ... ide-novel/

I'm honestly not sure if the guy is going to work on it, but if someone does decide to translate, that's cool with me. Anyways, check out his site, and give credit to LH Yeung for his hard work.

[Y Man]

So, who's wants to translate the " one more side " novel???

[pudding321]

So, who's wants to translate the " one more side " novel???

Read it. Threw it. Not worth adding.

Edit: Oh and just reminded me I had once done a snippet of it

Spoiler! :

Chapter 1 – Sakura Blossoms

17

Yesterday, I had a dream of the past. It must have been induced by the letter I discovered yesterday. The emotion of telling me to write now was the same back then: to wish that I could give this letter to him. What I am going to write here is a story when I was still a young girl, but I lack the confidence to complete it, for my emotions surpassed language; they can never be expressed, and I could never write down what I truly felt and give it to him. Whenever I try to, I wonder whether the experience I had on that day occurred different to me now. It wavers me. Still, I feel obliged to hand this letter to him. I read again the letter I hadn’t send out ten years ago from top to bottom—the past really comforts me, sooths me. I want to tell the person I was on that day to just s
end it to him, to embrace my own naivety and weaknesses.

So what I am going to write below is something like a belated letter.

16

After a round of tough deciding, I ended up wanting to begin from the time I transferred. I had a strong sense of useless inferiority; one of them was being unable to explain myself clearly in front of others. In a buzzing city like Tokyo, where you are born and come from is an important discussion topic in the everyday conversation, but I was always puzzled: my parents told me I was born in Utsunomiya. But I remember nothing about the place. It wasn’t the place where my consciousness sprouted. It was my mother’s though, and she talked about it with the family, but that is all I know.

I moved to Akita before primary school, then to Shizuoka, and then to Ishikawa. As my father worked in an electronic company somewhere in Tochigi, he had to help out in the many branches of the company scattered around the country. This weakened my sense of belonging to a place after numerous moving outs and transferals. I wouldn’t stay too long in one place. Every place was only a temporary place of stay. This was my usual personal statement from my childhood to my youth.

It was winter, third grade in Ishikawa’s primary school. My mother reminded me often that I was going to transfer the following year. The only thing I feel is the little happiness of escaping here and the fear that everything scary had to start all over again.

“We’re going to Tokyo this time.”

My mother reckoned it a lucky thing to do. Well, it is, at least looking it from the prospects of my father’s job. But the word Tokyo sounded something ominous to me. Schools, cities, and relationships had never left a strong impression on me, and would not in the future, I guess, at that time. I had read articles written by people who too had moved between many schools. They would write down the contours of each city and their longing feelings for them. But this had never occurred to me. I never had the courage to meet my eyes with others; for if I do so, I would stutter. That was why I always lowered my head and prevented any possibility of facing people. Fear always persisted no matter how any times I changed school. New places and strange pople never encouraged me. Places with alien tones and paces to me, people with their own special communication methods, strange buildings, strangers, and classmates who knew each other save me placed me into mere, unjust fear. Having been paid no heed to what I felt, I could only feel the tension in my skin once brought to the place that would devour me. Every small action and insignificant conversation pressured me. It would be great if there were a mute button. But that was too difficult a thing for me. Fear is a sign of being weak. Weakness, to premature children, is equal to being given authority to hurt others, as those weak will be forgiven eventually. Every day tortured me. Every moment pushed a ringing sense of puking. When it worsened, I could not go to school. But this fact worsened it further. Only the atmosphere was something I could withstand. When I breathe short intervals, my skin would tense, and time would fleet naturally. Verbal attacks, instead, were the real thing that I couldn’t withstand. You could not completely shut down your auditory system. Even if you cover your ears, you would only be thrown louder, harsher, and more impolite words. There are some words that I can’t take even now. Words children like to use to bully others; words even teachers abuse. In a children space, even adults would become children-like. This was what I completely understood recently. These thoughts would still linger inside me if I remained silent about it, but I couldn’t think of a way to break through. Say, there wasn’t even a will to break through from the start. As a child then, I bore everything put on me. The only thing that saved me was studying. Bathing in a copious sea was the most wonderful thing in the world to me, since the past to the present. Studying could shoot my heart to another world, saving me. Once I flip open a book, I could become another person, bearing other experiences, having other opportunities: imagined and self-induced sceneries were always more spenldid than real-life ones. Holding my breath and shutting my eyes off from reality, I could let my heart fly to another world. And I could learn a lot through books. At that time, specifically grade three in primary school, the book that captivated me was C.S. Lewis’s ‘Narnia: the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe’. There was another world in the wardrobe, residing there the sun beast as well as the winter witch…I was indulged in the fantasies in that world. I kept fantasising, accumulating no boredom in that world. Of course, I had actually tried opening several times the wardrobe in my house, though I understood it was no entrance to an otherworld. When I open the book, like the door of the wardrobe, my heart will fly into the land of Narnia (I believe Lewis deliberately combined the thought of opening a wardrobe with opening a book!). My real accommodation resides inside the door of imagination. When I was told I were to move to Tokyo on the following day, I held the book tightly in my arms, and forced myself to suppress the ominous foreboding flowing in my heart. I knew what was going to happen. To stand on the stage; to be surrounded by curious eyes; to turn their curiosity into disappointment; and finally to morph itself into an uncomfortable atmosphere. Besides, I had never imagined myself protesting, knowing nothing of a door to escape. I only did my best to protect the special place inside my imagination, and to do that I could only bear the pain coming from the outside.

[jsyschan]

I just saw this posting recently. While I'm sad to hear that you're not interested in translating One More Side, I do wish to thank you for posting your snippet of what you already translated even though you're not going to continue. I read it just now, and honestly, for me, I liked it, and I really would love to see this project carried out though I don't have the time myself to dedicate to this project. Again, thank you.

So, who's wants to translate the " one more side " novel???

Read it. Threw it. Not worth adding.

Edit: Oh and just reminded me I had once done a snippet of it

Spoiler! :

Chapter 1 – Sakura Blossoms

17

Yesterday, I had a dream of the past. It must have been induced by the letter I discovered yesterday. The emotion of telling me to write now was the same back then: to wish that I could give this letter to him. What I am going to write here is a story when I was still a young girl, but I lack the confidence to complete it, for my emotions surpassed language; they can never be expressed, and I could never write down what I truly felt and give it to him. Whenever I try to, I wonder whether the experience I had on that day occurred different to me now. It wavers me. Still, I feel obliged to hand this letter to him. I read again the letter I hadn’t send out ten years ago from top to bottom—the past really comforts me, sooths me. I want to tell the person I was on that day to just s
end it to him, to embrace my own naivety and weaknesses.

So what I am going to write below is something like a belated letter.

16

After a round of tough deciding, I ended up wanting to begin from the time I transferred. I had a strong sense of useless inferiority; one of them was being unable to explain myself clearly in front of others. In a buzzing city like Tokyo, where you are born and come from is an important discussion topic in the everyday conversation, but I was always puzzled: my parents told me I was born in Utsunomiya. But I remember nothing about the place. It wasn’t the place where my consciousness sprouted. It was my mother’s though, and she talked about it with the family, but that is all I know.

I moved to Akita before primary school, then to Shizuoka, and then to Ishikawa. As my father worked in an electronic company somewhere in Tochigi, he had to help out in the many branches of the company scattered around the country. This weakened my sense of belonging to a place after numerous moving outs and transferals. I wouldn’t stay too long in one place. Every place was only a temporary place of stay. This was my usual personal statement from my childhood to my youth.

It was winter, third grade in Ishikawa’s primary school. My mother reminded me often that I was going to transfer the following year. The only thing I feel is the little happiness of escaping here and the fear that everything scary had to start all over again.

“We’re going to Tokyo this time.”

My mother reckoned it a lucky thing to do. Well, it is, at least looking it from the prospects of my father’s job. But the word Tokyo sounded something ominous to me. Schools, cities, and relationships had never left a strong impression on me, and would not in the future, I guess, at that time. I had read articles written by people who too had moved between many schools. They would write down the contours of each city and their longing feelings for them. But this had never occurred to me. I never had the courage to meet my eyes with others; for if I do so, I would stutter. That was why I always lowered my head and prevented any possibility of facing people. Fear always persisted no matter how any times I changed school. New places and strange pople never encouraged me. Places with alien tones and paces to me, people with their own special communication methods, strange buildings, strangers, and classmates who knew each other save me placed me into mere, unjust fear. Having been paid no heed to what I felt, I could only feel the tension in my skin once brought to the place that would devour me. Every small action and insignificant conversation pressured me. It would be great if there were a mute button. But that was too difficult a thing for me. Fear is a sign of being weak. Weakness, to premature children, is equal to being given authority to hurt others, as those weak will be forgiven eventually. Every day tortured me. Every moment pushed a ringing sense of puking. When it worsened, I could not go to school. But this fact worsened it further. Only the atmosphere was something I could withstand. When I breathe short intervals, my skin would tense, and time would fleet naturally. Verbal attacks, instead, were the real thing that I couldn’t withstand. You could not completely shut down your auditory system. Even if you cover your ears, you would only be thrown louder, harsher, and more impolite words. There are some words that I can’t take even now. Words children like to use to bully others; words even teachers abuse. In a children space, even adults would become children-like. This was what I completely understood recently. These thoughts would still linger inside me if I remained silent about it, but I couldn’t think of a way to break through. Say, there wasn’t even a will to break through from the start. As a child then, I bore everything put on me. The only thing that saved me was studying. Bathing in a copious sea was the most wonderful thing in the world to me, since the past to the present. Studying could shoot my heart to another world, saving me. Once I flip open a book, I could become another person, bearing other experiences, having other opportunities: imagined and self-induced sceneries were always more spenldid than real-life ones. Holding my breath and shutting my eyes off from reality, I could let my heart fly to another world. And I could learn a lot through books. At that time, specifically grade three in primary school, the book that captivated me was C.S. Lewis’s ‘Narnia: the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe’. There was another world in the wardrobe, residing there the sun beast as well as the winter witch…I was indulged in the fantasies in that world. I kept fantasising, accumulating no boredom in that world. Of course, I had actually tried opening several times the wardrobe in my house, though I understood it was no entrance to an otherworld. When I open the book, like the door of the wardrobe, my heart will fly into the land of Narnia (I believe Lewis deliberately combined the thought of opening a wardrobe with opening a book!). My real accommodation resides inside the door of imagination. When I was told I were to move to Tokyo on the following day, I held the book tightly in my arms, and forced myself to suppress the ominous foreboding flowing in my heart. I knew what was going to happen. To stand on the stage; to be surrounded by curious eyes; to turn their curiosity into disappointment; and finally to morph itself into an uncomfortable atmosphere. Besides, I had never imagined myself protesting, knowing nothing of a door to escape. I only did my best to protect the special place inside my imagination, and to do that I could only bear the pain coming from the outside.