The first meeting between Jiro and Nahoko is very curious due to the reference to Paul Valéry’s poem “Le Cimetière Marin”. After young Nahoko rescues Jiro’s hat, she says “Le vent se lève”, and he replies with “Il faut tenter de vivre”. Just what are the odds that two characters would ever quote this poem to one another as some kind of commentary on life?!
It’s difficult to imagine a more striking first meeting. Jiro and Nahoko share an extraordinary, mystical understanding due to their knowledge of that poem. “Le Cimetière marin” is a meditation on life, mortality, and the impermanence of existence. The characters’ recitation of the poem suggests a shared sensitivity and a recognition of the beauty in the midst of life’s transience.
The characters are brought together by the wind: that whimsical and incomprehensible force. Jiro is taken aback by her recitation of the poem, and their secret understanding causes a huge stir in the heart of the young aeronautical enthusiast, and has a profound impact on his life. The line “The wind is rising! We must try to live!” is a call to action, a reminder to cherish the time we have, and to live life to the fullest. Jiro and Nahoko are both dreamers; Jiro yearns to design beautiful airplanes, and Nahoko wants to live a full and meaningful life. They’re both drawn to the beauty of the world around them, and they both have a deep appreciation for life.
The serendipitous encounter at Hotel Kusakaru (an idyllic resting place in the Japanese alps) brings Jiro and Nahoko back together after 10 years without contact. While she’s painting on a hill, a strong gust of wind makes Nahoko’s parasol fly in his direction. Jiro struggles to return it. Wind is a strong motif; it’s Fate intervening to reunite them. Jiro’s effort to retrieve the parasol symbolizes his willingness to rise to the challenge, and live his life to the fullest.
Once again, a good deed is its own reward. Jiro returns the parasol to Mr. Satomi and leaves without revealing his identity. Despite his polite silence, or maybe because of it, Nahoko’s eyes lit up as she recognized him as the young man who helped her and her maid during the great Kanto earthquake, conveying the depth of her feelings and the significance of their first encounter in 1923. She has cherished the memory of their meeting all those years ago.
For the past 10 years, Jiro and Nahoko had been searching for each other, and across time and space, their love never faded. Their reunion at Hotel Kusakaru is a symbol of hope and love; even after years of separation, true love can never be truly lost. Their little moment when they nod at each other in the dining room is very moving. She’s clearly overjoyed to see him again.
The next morning, Jiro takes his daily stroll through the countryside and finds the girl’s painting canvas and parasol in the tree shade, abandoned. He follows a water creek to find the girl near a spring. They bow respectfully to each other, but when he comes closer, she quickly turns away. As he prepares to leave, Nahoko begs Jiro not to go, revealing that she asked the spring to bring him to her. Nahoko’s ‘prayer’ is a way of seeking a connection with Jiro, as well as acknowledging the role of Nature and Fate in their reunion.
In some cultures, springs are seen as sacred places with healing powers. People often visit springs to pray for blessings or to ask for help with their problems. Nahoko’s request to the spring is a way of asking for help to reunite with Jiro, because her feelings for him have transcended time and space. And why wouldn’t she ask for Divine intervention?
She has experienced the horror of losing a parent to a horrible disease, and then was given a death sentence. To a young woman, whose life will be cut too short, this reunion with the man that helped her in a helpless situation, must feel like a great gift — a second lease on life. Mother Nature (in the guise of the wind) seems to want these two together.
Out of nowhere, ferocious downpour drowns the countryside, and the young couple hides under the parasol. Jiro regrets that it can’t protect her, but Nahoko is too elated to worry about the fact that the rain is leaving her soaked to the bone. She calls Jiro her “knight in shining armor”, though I’m not sure he feels that way.
Symbolically, the leaky parasol foreshadows Jiro’s inability to rescue Nahoko from her impending death. It also foreshadows Nahoko’s appreciation for every moment even if it’s imperfect and limited. Jiro has brought happiness into her life during its most challenging time – he’s a source of strength, joy and love.
With a wistful smile, Jiro remarks that the rain ruined her painting. Nahoko replies she’ll keep it “in honor of that day”. It’s a poignant reflection of the film’s themes of embracing life, love, and creativity in the face of challenges and limitations, by emphasizing the beauty in transience, the fleeting nature of life, and the significance of small moments that can hold profound meaning in one’s personal journey.
The rain storm ends as quickly as it began. Nahoko enthusiastically marks the spot where the road becomes dry again and points at a beautiful rainbow. It’s ironic that Jiro (a man deeply engrossed in the world of aeronautical engineering and innovation) has almost forgotten the simple beauty of a rainbow. Then, she remarks “Life is wonderful, isn’t it?”
Yes, yes it is; despite the adversities and the impermanence of life, there are moments of profound beauty and happiness to be found. Jiro’s passion for designing airplanes and Nahoko’s appreciation for the natural world align at this moment. The colorful bow is as beautiful and inspirational as the natural curvature of a mackerel bone.
Brought together by the wind – a capricious force – Jiro is separated from Nahoko due to another uncontrollable force: illness. Isolated in her room due to a fever, Jiro builds a paper airplane and throws it into the wind, hoping that it will meet her. Capricious as always, the invisible force elevates the airplane onto her balcony. This scene is absolutely adorable. The wind becoms a messenger of Love. Their wordless conversation captures their blossoming romance with a tenderness and a sincerity that’s quite compelling. For a movie so deeply rooted in reality, theirs is a sweet, innocent and playful courtship — somewhere between the deep love of Romeo and Juliet and the youthful playfulness of Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher. The contrast between the film’s grounded realism and the romantic idealism of their relationship creates a unique and captivating dynamic. Jiro’s reserved demeanor is juxtaposed with his playful and animated side when interacting with Nahoko. He allows himself to be very open and expressive, revealing a never before seen cheerfulness. His shifting attitude demonstrates the transformative power of love.
This movie is punctuated by a constant metaphor that links the excitement of flying with the soaring emotions and the sense of liberation that often accompany falling in love. Jiro and Nahoko are carried away by their emotions, soaring above their earthly concerns, embracing the extraordinary together. The intensity of their feelings elevates them to a higher plane of existence. They’re consumed by Love, a powerful force that sets their hearts ablaze, and they’re determined to cherish every moment, exploring the heights their feelings can reach in the serene, breathtaking setting of the Japanese alps.
Their moments together in the mountain resort, while unburdened by real-life constraints, is a great example of a couple’s experience of falling deeply in love. Nahoko and Jiro feel as if they were born to be together, and they have found in each other a source of strength and inspiration.
At the hotel’s dining hall, it becomes evident to everyone, especially the German gentleman known as Castorp, that Jiro has fallen in love. Jiro, for his part, wastes no time and asks Mr. Satomi for his daughter’s hand in marriage, showcasing the sincerity of his feelings for Nahoko. The man hesitates, not because he dislikes Jiro… At that moment, Nahoko comes down the stairs and asks for her father’s permission. Jiro renews his proposal and, even though she eagerly accepts, she warns him that, just like her mother, she contracted tuberculosis. After that kind of revelation, most people would just lose their nerve and walk away. Jiro doesn’t seem to mind, saying that he loved her since the day she rescued his hat.
He’s willing to wait 100 years for her to get better, even though he doesn’t have 100 years, and her life is numbered in days… Love is blind, deaf, and foolish. Real love can’t be any other way. Despite the obstacles and uncertainties Life throws their way, they are willing to face them together. They yearn to embrace their love, letting it guide them through the storms that await them. Love is blind, indeed!
We never learn how long this idyllic mountain engagement lasts before Jiro returns to Nagoya, nor do we know the extent to which Nahoko is sick. We see her painting at the top of the hill, we see her taking long strolls with Jiro through the mountains, so we are kept guessing and rooting for the best for the young couple. The scene's simplicity and innocence reflects the purity of their love, a love that is still in its early stages and untouched by the complexities of the world.
Jiro goes back to work eventually. Since he’s being hunted down by the secret police, his boss hides him in his home. One day, he gets a phone call from his boss telling him Nahoko has suffered a lung hemorrhage; a clear sign of her deteriorating health. I’m not sure if the image we see is Jiro’s imagination or if it’s factual, but the lung hemorrhage is deeply disturbing.
Jiro goes into shock after hearing the news, but he goes into full panic mode once he realizes that the telegram his boss read to him is already two days old. He frantically changes his clothes and immediately gets himself on the noon bus to go to Tokyo by train. He wants to be there to help her and comfort her, but he fears it’s too late already. On the road to Tokyo, Jiro tries to work as a form of keeping his mind busy, so that he doesn’t give into despair, but while he’s doing his calculations, tears run freely down his face, denouncing the emotional turmoil he’s experiencing. His love for Nahoko is a driving force in his life, and the uncertainty of her condition is taking a heavy toll on him.
The minute Jiro arrives at her residence, he avoids the front door for fear of being kept for too long by her father. He can’t wait a moment longer, so he crosses the garden and spots a light in Nahoko’s room. He sees her lying in bed, breathing softly. As soon as she notices his presence, he bursts into the room and throws himself into her arms.
Nahoko is overjoyed to hold him again, and she caresses his head lovingly. This moment is filled with a sense of longing, relief, and the joy of being reunited. Their urgent embrace is a symbol of their deep love, hope and resilience.
Jiro apologizes, assuring her that he wished he could’ve been there sooner, and they share a tender kiss.
As much as she loves him, as much as she is relieved by his presence, Nahoko can’t stop worrying about his safety. “You’ll catch it,” she said, with a trembling voice, fearing that the white plague would consume him as well, due to their proximity. Jiro doesn’t dwell on her fears. He says simply “You’re beautiful.” Nahoko shakes her head vehemently. His casual attitude about the risk of infection makes her feel a little uneasy.
There’s nothing beautiful about Tuberculosis… Even though Hayao Miyazaki doesn’t show us many of the symptoms (apart from that gastly hemoptysis scene). Nahoko probably suffers a range of symptoms from anemia, loss of weight and appetite, labored breathing, fever, fatigue, general malaise… We never see her coughing nor do we hear any wheezing when she breathes, but again, Miyazaki doesn’t want to go to the nitty-gritty of TB symptoms. This particular scene is highlighted by the fact that when we see her in bed her breathing is rapid and shallow. She can't quite seem to take a deep breath anymore.
Whichever symptoms she actually has, no person can feel at ease when they are at death’s doors. Jiro doesn’t care about the risks; he sees past the disease, into the eyes of the valiant woman he fell in love with. He mutters a heartfelt “I love you”, showing the depth of his devotion and his willingness to face any obstacle with her. Nahoko is deeply moved by his words. Tears stream down her face as she pulls him in for a yearning embrace, thankful for his love, taking comfort in his soothing presence during this terrifying moment, wishing to keep him there with her forever.
His visit has a magical effect on her. When her father reaches her room, her voice denounces a much cheerier mood, even though Jiro can’t stay for long. In front of his future father-in-law, Jiro says that the next time he comes for a visit, he’ll use the front door. Maybe he doesn’t want to fall off his father-in-law’s good graces by breaching etiquette, but Nahoko assures him that the garden is much more fun than the front door. Jiro smiles and agrees to indulge her will. After all, the garden entrance is a more secluded route, away from prying eyes, and she was as surprised as she was thankful for his spontaneous entrance. Nahoko, unlike her father, is a free-spirit and doesn’t care for that level of formality or etiquette. Jiro’s gesture reminds her of the playful spontaneity of their courtship in the mountains, and him being willing to do whatever it takes to be with her.
On his way out, Jiro says: “Is it that serious? I wish I could look after her.” He feels helpless against an enemy as daunting as Tuberculosis. Mr. Satomi has been through this process before, when he lost his wife to the White Plague. He assures him “The way to do that is to focus on your work.” In truth, there’s nothing Jiro can do for Nahoko other than succeeding at his work and ensuring a better future for her. Besides, he knows his daughter well enough to know that she would not want her illness to hinder Jiro’s dreams and ambitions. It is necessary to strike a balance between Jiro’s work and his personal life, and that is the ultimate challenge for any young couple.
Mr. Satomi might also be trying to protect Jiro’s emotional wellbeing. He knows how emotionally draining it is to see someone you love suffer without being able to alleviate their pain, and he doesn’t want Jiro to get too close to Nahoko and then have to watch her die. By focusing on his work, Jiro will be able to maintain a sense of purpose and avoid becoming overwhelmed by the challenges of Nahoko’s condition.
When Mr. Satomi returns to the house, he finds his daughter with tears in her eyes. A whole new battle is raging inside her. She seems to have accepted her fate, until Jiro walks back into her life, although I’m not sure if she is accepting or just resigned… When we see her at the hotel in the mountains, she has this apparent serene attitude towards her life. It makes me wonder: what was she doing in the mountain hotel with her father? Well, the mountain is high in the Japanese Alps (good quality air), she gets to be there with her father (her remaining family member) at a safe distance (because she doesn’t want him to get sick), and she gets to enjoy her life while throwing herself into her art (she’s an oil painter whose passion provides her with a sense of purpose and joy). It’s the best possible scenario for the remaining members of the Satomi family.
But then the wind rises and Jiro is brought back into her life… His love for her and her love for him rekindle her fighting spirit, compelling her to go against the cursed destiny that had been set for her after her mother’s death. In the face of insurmountable odds, love provides the strength and courage to persevere.
Nahoko accepted Jiro’s marriage proposal on the condition that she would get better from her Tuberculosis first. Only one question remains: how far along is her illness, and can she even get better from it? Because we are never given details on exactly how advanced it is, we want to think that it’s in its early stages. When she’s at the mountain hotel, she has a fever, but since she caught a real downpour, that doesn’t appear strange at first. It’s only after we know that fever is a symptom of Tuberculosis and that getting soaked diminishes the immune system’s response, do we start thinking that this fever is connected to the rain, but it’s also connected to TB. If there was any equilibrium in the disease before, the downpour might have contributed to the disequilibrium in favor of the infection. And then, not long after, she suffered a lung hemorrhage. There’s no coming back from this disease, she’s past the point of no return. Going to a sanatorium is not going to heal her, but as long as she thinks she has a shot at gaining a few months, weeks or even days with Jiro, she will give it a try.
A sanatorium was a hospital built at high-altitude specifically to house patients who suffered from Tuberculosis. The combination of clean, dry air, low in oxygen, UV ray exposure, sun exposure, absolute rest and high-quality nutrition was supposed to help and even maybe heal TB patients. Still, people were rarely healed, although their condition could be improved. For Nahoko, the Fujimi Kogen Sanatorium was a great gamble. On one hand, it offers the potential for her to improve her condition even if it’s just a little. On the other hand, she’ll be isolated from her father and Jiro, while facing the daily reality of being surrounded by other people who are sick and dying.
The daily letters she receives from Jiro make her feel like she’s missing out on his life, on their life together. She can’t take the distance anymore. It all becomes unbearable… Being away from someone you love is the hardest thing in the world. One morning, after a heavy snow, Nahoko decides to leave the sanatorium. She’s aware of how advanced her illness is, but she is also acutely aware of the emotional toll of being separated from Jiro. The longing to be with him is undeniable and unstoppable. She yearns to share in his experiences, to feel his presence, to be a part of his life. While her choice may seem reckless, it is also a reflection of her deep connection with Jiro and her desire to live a life full of love and companionship, even if it means facing challenges. By this point, Nahoko decides to make the most of the time she has left. Her decision to leave the sanatorium is a reflection of her courage and her strength. She knows what she wants, and she is willing to fight for it.
Jiro rushes to the Nagoya train station after he gets a call from Mr. Satomi telling him his daughter left the sanatorium. He desperately searches for her in the crowd and manages to find her in the distance. He dashes madly across the platform. Nahoko tries to avoid the crowd to join him. Miyazaki does something very interesting in this scene: As I said before, he doesn’t go into the nitty-gritty of tuberculosis symptoms, but in this scene, Jiro starts running towards her, and we cannot make out any of the detail on the faces of the people in the background. As for Nahoko, we can see the faces in the background with great detail – a tiny clue that, even at her top speed, she’s not running anymore. At this point, her body can’t keep up with her will to live. It’s a subtle yet powerful visual metaphor – a poignant way of communicating the struggles she faces, emphasizing the emotional and physical toll of her choice to be with Jiro.
They reunite in a desperate embrace as she falls into his arms, breathless. He was worried of not being able to find her in the crowd since he’s nearsighted. He’s only human after all, he has his own limitations. He asks her if she can walk. She nods, showing an absolute determination to fight for her life with the man she loves. As he guides her out of the train station, she laments that she has to go back to the sanatorium; she just came down because she desperately needed to see him. Just as desperate to not lose her again, Jiro convinces her to stay with him. It doesn’t need much convincing, though. Her strategy of bargaining for more time was doomed to failure, and she's happy to realize that their distance only served to sharpen Jiro’s priorities. She couldn’t agree with him more: their love is precious, they need to be together to cherish every moment they have.
Jiro takes Nahoko back to the Kurokawa residence, where he has been hiding from the secret police. His boss disapproves of her staying there with Jiro since they aren’t married. Jiro is more than happy to remedy that. His boss has doubts about Jiro’s hurry to marry. He tells him “If you care about her, you’ll send her back immediately.” To which Jiro responds: “I can’t do that. I’d have to give up my work.” Mr. Kurokawa worries that Nahoko won’t fare well outside the sanatorium, but Jiro understands that nothing can truly cure her illness. Still, he would be willing to go back to the sanatorium with her and give up his job. Jiro’s work as an airplane designer is a fundamental part of his identity, and his willingness to sacrifice it all for the sake of his relationship with Nahoko demonstrates the depth of their love and commitment to one another.
An improvised wedding takes place that very night with Mr. Kurokawa and his wife as their witnesses. Nahoko and Jiro pledge their lives to each other, declaring their intention to create a lasting bond that will endure through the ups and downs of life. The film beautifully navigates the intersections of love, sacrifice, and the pursuit of personal dreams, making these characters and their journey all the more relatable and emotionally resonant. Later that evening, Nahoko tells Jiro that it feels as if she’s dreaming. Her words reflect the exhilaration she feels. In Jiro, she found a partner worth fighting for, someone from whom she feels an unconditional love, and their wedding vows serve as a declaration of their unwavering devotion to each other. It’s an enchanting moment where they’re swept away by the intensity of their emotions and are transported to a higher plane of existence, where the boundaries of reality are dissolved and the only thing that matters is the connection between two souls.
Jiro greets his wife after a long day of work and sits next to her to finish the design of Prototype 9. He insists that she sleep, but Nahoko has other plans. She’s aware of his concerns with her well-being, but she’ll do whatever much she can (within her comfort zone) for him. She hands him his night clothes and folds his street clothes, while mentioning how she became great friends with her sister-in-law and how her mother-in-law made nice comfy clothes for her. Small acts of normalcy…
Jiro obscures the light with a piece of cloth, so as to allow his wife to keep resting, and gets back to work. Feeling the urgency of completing the design of Prototype 9, Nahoko supports Jiro’s work; she wants to share his unwavering passion for his craft. She’s inspired by that source of Jiro’s motivation, resilience, and creativity, that enables him to push boundaries, break through barriers, and achieve extraordinary feats. They hold hands as she watches him and shares her own ideas on the matter. It’s a quiet moment of intimacy and mutual understanding, where they find solace and joy.
Don’t talk to me about the cigarette scene… I know that this movie got a lot of flack for Jiro smoking next to his sick wife, but I don’t see what the problem is… Smoking was the norm in 1930s Japan, and nobody at the time would associate cigarettes with lung cancer. As for Nahoko, it’s at her insistence that he smokes in the room. Maybe critics forget that he wanted to go smoke outside… But since that would mean letting go of her hand, she insisted that he smoke next to her. Do people forget about this or do they only focus on the things they want to criticize? The point is: none of that matters. Smoking outside won’t save Nahoko from death by TB, and smoking inside won’t make her die any faster than she already is… Ultimately, for Jiro, it’s two minutes smoking a cigarette, but for Nahoko, it’s two minutes too long to be separated from her beloved husband. And she doesn’t have that kind of time to waste. It’s important to consider the historical and cultural context when interpreting scenes in films, as well as understanding the characters’ motivations in their specific cultural milieu.
Jiro comes home the next morning (after pulling an all-nighter at the office) and announces the plane is finished. Nahoko smiles and congratulates him, saying: “You must be tired.” He lies down next to his wife and mutters: “A little.” With the last of his strength, Jiro proclaims: “I couldn’t have done this without you.” He’s acknowledging that his wife’s unwavering support, her love, encouragement, and understanding were instrumental in his success. It’s all he can do before he falls asleep from exhaustion. In 1930s Japan, there was not yet a word for ‘death by overwork’ (karōshi) but, just like with the historical Jiro Horikoshi, the protagonist of The Wind Rises works himself to near exhaustion. Dr. Horikoshi was physically ill from overwork; he developed pleurisy. One could argue that the physical and emotional toll is the price one pays for devoting themselves so completely to their dreams.
Seeing her husband fast asleep, Nahoko, removes his spectacles slowly, so as to not wake him. He fell asleep with only his head on the pallet Nahoko was sleeping on. She carefully covers him with her blanket and then scoots to the end of the mat to be closer to him. Her actions speak volumes about the depth of her feelings and her desire to protect him. This scene evokes a sense of warmth, quiet intimacy and tenderness between the characters, showcasing a deep affection through simple actions — the universal language of devotion that allows us to connect to those we love.
The next morning, they share a kiss, and Nahoko wishes him good luck before Jiro leaves for the test site. As she waves goodbye, she’s acutely aware that her time is running out… She cleans up the place and leaves, promising Mrs. Kurokawa to return soon, knowing she won’t. Many questions haunt me at this point: was Nahoko really feeling better? At the test site, while the entire Mitsubishi crew was marveling at the sight of prototype 9 soaring in the sky, Jiro was looking far away, in shock, unable to shake this feeling that his wife had left him forever...
The last time Nahoko appears — in Jiro’s dreams — she encourages him to live his life to the fullest and he thanks her for everything she did for him.
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