Early Modern Japanese Literature: An Anthology, 1600–1900

by Shirane, Haruo, ed.

  The Lover Reveals His True Form (chapter 5)

  The world has long been called changeable and unreliable. But it is people’s minds, not the world, that are changeable and unreliable. The poet Su Dongpo said a moment of evening in spring is worth a thousand pieces of gold, while another man says the whole floating world is worth only three and a half coppers.62 But nobody’s ever paid a thousand gold coins for a moment of spring evening, and no one’s ever remaindered off the floating world for three and a half coppers, either. Talk never paid the rent, yet in the floating world good and bad are determined by the way we speak. The mutability of the world is the mutability of people’s minds.

  Even the sage Confucius hitched up his robes and left his native land of Lu. It was a big place, but he never met anyone there who could really understand him. The very first time he met Chengzi, however, both men understood each other immediately. Confucius had his attendant hold his big parasol over Chengzi, and they talked so long that Confucius got leg cramps. Without such understanding, even parent and child and brother and brother become bitter enemies. With understanding, every man in the world can become your older or younger brother.63 These are the words of someone who has looked long and hard at both sides of the world.

  Kikunojō was considered the consummate young actor of female roles, and there was no one who didn’t desire him. Men became very excited at just seeing his beautiful face at a distance or catching a glimpse of the entwined cotton cord crest on his robe, and although a few wealthy men had slept with him, no one had actually become his lover. Yet somehow an unknown man had suddenly come and met directly with Kikunojō, and Kikunojō had fallen in love with him and pledged himself to the man forever. The man was truly the supreme lover among all those following the way of male love.

  Later the two men sat up again and washed their hands gracefully and nonchalantly in the river as if nothing had happened. Then they went back to where they had been sitting before and sat facing each other. But the way they exchanged cups of saké now was perceptibly more intimate. The full moon continued to rise and shone down on the boat so brightly that now it seemed to be noon. A cool breeze ruffled the surface of the river, making both men realize that fall was coming soon, even while summer lingered.

  As they were enjoying the magnificent night, the samurai began to gaze soulfully into Kikunojō’s eyes. He looked very lonely, and then a feeling he could no longer hide showed itself on his face, and tears streaked his cheeks.

  Kikunojō, concerned, moved closer to him. “What is it that’s bothering you?” he asked very gently.

  But the man looked down even more sadly, still crying and unable to speak.

  Kikunojō felt uneasy. “Do you find something lacking in my love for you?” he asked. “Please tell me. Why should we hide anything from each other when we’ve come this far?”

  Hearing a sulking tone of soft reproach in Kikunojō’s voice, the man brushed away his tears. “Despite your deep feelings for me,” he said, “I ignored you and said nothing. It is very, very hard for me to say anything. If I speak, you’ll dislike me, and if I don’t speak, you’ll be angry with me. Though I love you more than I can express, I made you feel that I disliked something about you. When I heard what you said just now, your words went through me and shook my whole body. I realize now that I have to tell you everything. But please don’t be shocked by what I have to say. Please. I’m not actually human. I’m a kappa water spirit. I live down on the ocean floor, and I spend my time swimming through very rough waves.”

  Kikunojō was astonished, but he tried to keep calm and waited to hear more. Then he realized he felt afraid. He was cold all over and was looking around nervously in every direction. After a while he managed to control the pounding in his chest. He said some charms and prayers silently to himself and went on listening.

  “I’ll explain to you why I came in this human shape,” the man said, wiping away more tears. “It’s very hard to explain completely, but King Enma in the other world has fallen deeply in love with you and wants you very much. So Enma ordered the seven-headed dragon god, who’s the lord of all the oceans, to bring you to his palace. A lot of discussions about how to capture you went on at the dragon palace at the bottom of the sea, where I live, and I said I would do it even at the risk of my life. Finally the dragon god agreed, and I was given the mission of bringing you back to his palace in any way I could. Out of loyalty to my lord, I devised a plan to capture you. Tonight, following my plan, I stole a small boat that someone had left on the shore and changed myself into the shape of a human samurai. I then used my divine powers to link haikai verses with you. That allowed me to row near you. After I got close enough, I planned to grab you and jump back down into the water with you.

  Beyond the pleasure boat, the samurai lover appears in his true form as a kappa, who stands near the shore of Nakazu, a landfill area at the confluence of the Sumida and Hakozaki Rivers. It was an area of teahouses and restaurants (right).

  “But I was overcome by your beauty. I lost control of myself, and I told you of my love for you, even though I knew it was completely impossible. But then you responded with deep feeling, and I began to feel that I wanted to be with you forever. My heart wrapped hopelessly around and around you like vines around a tree. Together we took off our sashes and put on a single robe of love. And the things we said to each other then, I can never forget them. Most of all, I’ll never forget our promise to meet again.

  “My mind’s completely different now from what it was when I came here earlier. Everything’s changed, just the way the Asuka River shifts, with its depths suddenly becoming shallow pools.64 For me, too, there are no more depths I could take you to. Now there are only shallows.

  “So I’ve decided to give up my life. If I went back to the dragon palace and told the dragon god that even using all my powers, I couldn’t capture you, he’d punish me terribly. He’s done it before. Once long ago, when the dragon god’s daughter Otohime was very sick, he asked a jellyfish to get hold of a live monkey liver for her to eat as a cure. The jellyfish went up, tricked a monkey, and came back down with him, but then the jellyfish stupidly mentioned his plan and the monkey realized what was happening and escaped. The dragon god was so furious he ripped out every one of the jellyfish’s muscles and bones. That’s why jellyfish are in the pitiful formless shape they’re in today. They can hardly live down the shame.

  “But I, well, I didn’t just let out a secret. I went up in front of endless rows of every kind of sea creature and shot off my big mouth about what I was going to do. I won’t be able to face any of them again. So I’ve decided to commit suicide instead. I’ll throw myself into a deep forest on some mountain and die from lack of water. I’ve been able to help you, though, so now I don’t mind dying. But there is one thing. When I’m dead, my body will turn back into its true shape, and you’ll find me disgusting. And not only that. Ordinary lovers can promise to meet again on a lotus in the Pure Land paradise after they die, but in our case, well, King Enma is going to keep you for himself, and I’ll surely be reborn as an animal. So we’ll never be able to meet again, ever. When I think about our karma, how we’ll never be together again in all eternity, my heart turns into a slab of ice. Please, after I’m dead, if you say even one Buddhist requiem for me, I’ll be able to escape the worst suffering. Even so, I’ll never be able to go near any river or seashore again. There are some pretty mean characters down there in the water who know a lot of tricks.” Then the man began to weep again.

  Kikunojō also was crying. “I’m overwhelmed by your story,” he said, “and I’m completely amazed. But don’t give up hope like that. It’s not impossible for animals to be reborn as humans, you know. In China they say the spirit of a plum tree became a beautiful woman and loved a man. And in Japan, Abe no Yasuna lived with a female fox, and their child was human. He became the famous diviner Abe no Seimei. We’ve been together only a short time, but we’ve vowed always to be true to each other. I simply
can’t allow someone I love to die instead of me. It goes completely against the way of true love between men. And I won’t live much longer, anyway. If King Enma desires me, then his order’s bound to catch up with me. Please, please, don’t die! Take me with you down into the ocean.” Kikunojō got up and stood by the railing, preparing to jump.

  The man grabbed Kikunojō and stopped him. “Your wish to die for my sake makes me very happy,” he said. “But even if I were to take your life and go back with you, rumors would start. People would say that after all I really was just a lowly creature who betrayed a human who’d showed him love and killed him in return. And the shame wouldn’t be mine only. My parents and brothers and all my relatives would be completely disgraced. And besides, I couldn’t bear to see your beautiful face on the ocean bottom after you drowned. Stop, please. Reconsider. Let me die, and everything will be all right.”

  “Never! You’re my lover. Men never cause their true loves to die.”

  As the two men argued about who would die, they heard a loud “Hey, wait!” It was the actor Ogino Yaegiri. Surprised, Kikunojō and the samurai tried to jump, but Yaegiri grabbed them both and held them.

  “Calm down,” he said. “Don’t lose your heads. I went with the others to catch clams on Nakazu, but I was just too drunk, so I came back in a small boat. I thought something strange was going on when I saw you sleeping together, but I didn’t want to bother you, and I decided to wait and see what happened. I hid on the other side of the boat, and I heard everything you’ve been saying. Mayflies, as they say, die at nightfall, and summer cicadas live only one season. They value every moment they live, yet you two are arguing over who should kill himself. Each of you wants to die for your lover. That’s admirable, very admirable. But if Enma’s fallen in love with you, Kikunojō, and issued a royal edict, then there’s no way you’ll get out of it. Remember, though, Enma’s never seen you in person. So let me go instead. That way you won’t have to die.

  “You both must wonder why I want to die instead of Kikunojō. But there’s nothing strange about my motives. Kikunojō, you know well enough about my family line. It began with Ogino Umesaburō and came down to my father, Yaegiri. They all played women’s roles using the stage name Ogino Yaegiri. They were well known in Kyoto, Osaka, and Edo, and in Kyoto my father served as head of a theater company, so the family’s quite famous. But my father, Yaegiri, died young, when I was only three. My mother took me with her, and we managed to survive with some family friends. But when I was five my mother died, too, and I became an orphan. I would have become an outcast beggar, but Kikunojō, your father, who was a friend of my father’s, pitied me and took me in. He brought me up very carefully, as if I were his own son. He even had a nurse and a helper look after me. And when I was old enough, he taught me singing, shamisen, dancing, body movement, and how to speak in women’s voices. He made me into the professional actor I am. He said he wanted to give his own stage name to me and have me become the next member of his line, but he felt strongly I should take my father’s name and honor my ancestors’ souls in that way. So I took the name Yaegiri, and he adopted you and gave the name Kikunojō to you. Remember how he always used to tell us to think of ourselves as brothers?

  “I’m nowhere as good as my father was, but I’ve managed to appear in major theaters in Kyoto, Osaka, and Edo. I feel very grateful to my father, but I’m even more grateful to my stepfather for helping me become what I am today. As both a father and a teacher, his great love for me is something I’ll never forget. When he was about to die, he called me to him and told me he didn’t mind dying, since he’d been able to gain fame and respect for the name Kikunojō, and his younger brother Kikujirō would also keep the family name famous. But he was worried about you, Kikunojō. He asked me to be your guardian and to teach you his art until you could act well enough to become the second Kikunojō. He was crying when he said that. Those were his last words.

  “I was deeply moved, and I vowed to your father that the most important thing in my life from then on would be to look after you and help you become worthy of the title Kikunojō II. I assured him that he didn’t have to worry about anything. When he heard that, your father smiled, and then he died. I can’t help crying every time I remember it. You were still young then, and your father was also my stepfather and had done so much for me, and I was glad to help you in turn. Then, five years ago, I taught you all the acting secrets your father taught me, and you started out on your own. After that, you became more and more famous, and it made me much happier than if I myself were becoming so famous. Every time you achieve a new success, you know, I go and sit in front of your father’s memorial tablet and pray to him proudly, telling him all about it. His deathbed wish is always in my mind, and I want very much to see it fulfilled.

  “Just now I stopped you from jumping, because if I let you die, I could never explain it to your father’s soul. And not only that. I don’t want the name Segawa to disappear. Even if I die, I have a son, so the name Ogino will continue. Now, after all these years, I want to repay all the great kindness your father showed me ever since I was five. But there is one thing I want to ask you. Please look after my wife and family after I’m gone. Don’t ever forget them. That’s the only thing I worry about. When I go to Enma’s palace, my beauty will be nothing compared with yours. But that’s a minor problem. Turning ink into snow and crows into white herons is something I’ve been trained to do. Kikunojō, please live the way you should, and don’t drink too much and ruin your reputation. Concentrate on your art, practice hard, and become an actor whom people will consider even greater than your father and uncle. If you do that, I’ll feel very content over there in the other world.”

  Yaegiri spoke with such deep emotion that Kikunojō and the samurai were in tears. Kikunojō clung to him. “After my father died,” he said, “you took care of me and taught me everything, and you did it all with loving care. Your offer to die for me is something truly precious. I’ll never forget it, no matter how many times I’m reborn. But I owe too much to you. I could never go on living knowing I’d caused your death. Please, please let me die.”

  “Never,” Yaegiri said. “Let me.”

  “No! I will,” the samurai said.

  The three men argued on and on about who would die until suddenly they heard the loud sounds of Heikurō, Yosahachi who was acting as captain, and the others coming back with their clams. The three men panicked and didn’t know what to do. Then the two actors realized the samurai had disappeared as silently as a shadow.

  “Wait! Don’t go yet!” Kikunojō wanted to shout, but the others were too close now and would hear. While Kikunojō was searching the surface of the river for a trace of the samurai, Yaegiri made up his mind. He climbed to the roof of the cabin and jumped into the water with a loud splash, sending up spray in all directions. He disappeared beneath the water and left nothing behind to remember him by but the bubbles briefly on the river’s surface.

  Suddenly everyone on board was in an uproar, shouting that Yaegiri had jumped into the river and committed suicide. But the only reply was the sound of the stiffening wind. They looked frantically here and there among the waves but found no sign of Yaegiri anywhere.

  Kikunojō, tears running down his face, refused to explain anything. He felt he would never be able to face other people now and go on living, and he made up his mind to jump in the river together with Yaegiri, to whom he owed so much. Heikurō didn’t know what was happening, but he saw Kikunojō edging toward the side of the boat and held him back.

  “Don’t worry,” Yosahachi told Kikunojō. “You were the one who hired the boat for the cruise, but we’ll say Yaegiri fell in the water by accident. We’ll never tell anyone you were alone with him. We’ll say we were all here on the boat the whole time. Nobody will ever think of blaming you. And when we report it to the authorities, we’ll stick together and swear we were all together here on the boat, no matter how they threaten us or punish us.” He and the others said
many different things, and finally Kikunojō agreed not to jump.

  Kikunojō didn’t even try to explain what had happened. He kept it in his heart, crying again and again, and those who saw him also cried as they went on looking everywhere among the rising waves for Yaegiri. They strained to see anything resembling a body, but they found nothing at all. Yaegiri had been carried away, pitifully, forever. Then suddenly, rain began to fall, making their search even harder. They prayed fervently to many gods, but nothing helped. At last they gave up hope and made the journey back.

  On land, the roads seemed visited by souls as the actors walked to the house of Yaegiri’s young widow, who was as radiant and filled with life as new spring grass. When they told her what had happened, her soul almost left her. After she had recovered, she realized how alone she was and how helpless to do anything. The man she loved so dearly had disappeared without a trace under the waves. She would never even see his body again.

  “I feel,” she told them, “like the woman in that ancient poem:

  How inconsolable

  the woman who waits

  each day to see

  her husband lying

  at the bay’s bottom.65

  It must have been written about me.” Her grief was as endless as the sands of the shore. No sea of ink in a human inkstone is deep enough to record it, and no one who heard her had dry eyes.