As the Buddhist sects (including Tendai, which continued to exert considerable institutional influence) rose in prominence, so too did belief in the native gods (kami), which laid the foundation for the institutional rise of Shinto (Way of the Gods) and its various local and national deities. Samurai leaders such as Minamoto Yoritomo, the founder of the Kamakura bakufu, worshiped and relied on both kami and buddhas. Kami were believed to bring worldly benefits and protections for the state, the community, and the clan, and they became the focus of worship at major shrines like the Ise Shrine. One result was the emerging doctrine of Japan as a “country of the gods” (shinkoku), evident in later Northern and Southern Courts-period texts such as Kitabatake Chikafusa’s Chronicle of the Gods (Jinnō shōtōki, 1343). The rise of popular Buddhism and of cults of native gods led to a belief in honji suijaku (original ground—manifest traces), according to which Shinto gods are local manifestations (suijaku) of original buddhas (honji). This syncretist view had precedents in earlier periods but became prominent in the medieval period and is a frequent motif of the setsuwa of the Kamakura period and of the otogi-zōshi of the Muromachi period.
THE ARISTOCRACY AND LITERATURE
Even while their political and economic status declined, the aristocracy retained their prestige as the custodians of high culture and canonical literature, and the long tradition of aristocratic court literature continued to flourish in the early medieval period. Indeed, the first thirty or forty years of the Kamakura period, until the Jōkyū rebellion in 1221 when the power of the nobility was abruptly terminated, represents one of the peaks of aristocratic literature. Some of the greatest waka anthologies—beginning with the Shinkokinshū (New Collection of Ancient and Modern Poems, ca. 1205), the eighth imperial waka collection and often considered the finest of the twenty-one imperial waka anthologies—were compiled at this time. The best poetic treatises, such as Fujiwara Shunzei’s Poetic Styles from the Past (Korai fūteishō, 1197) and Fujiwara Teika’s Essentials of Poetic Composition (Eiga taigai, ca. 1222), were written during the early decades of the Kamakura period, an age of increased cultural production by the aristocracy. In fact, more monogatari (tales) were written during the early medieval period than in the Heian period, although many such works were imitative, drawing heavily on The Tale of Genji, which had become a model for literary and poetic composition. It was not until the Muromachi period that the monogatari received new stimulus from commoner culture, taking the form of what are now called otogi-zōshi (Muromachi tales).
Aristocratic literature in the medieval period was characterized by strong nostalgia for the Heian-court past and an emphasis on preserving court traditions. Indeed, literary production was the only means for many aristocrats to make a living on the basis of their heritage. The twenty-first and last imperial waka anthology, the Shinshokukokinshū, edited in 1439, symbolically marked the end of aristocratic literature. Not only did the aristocrats compose waka and monogatari in the medieval period, but they also turned their attention to preserving their cultural inheritance by collating, annotating, and commenting on earlier texts. Their scholarship extended from ancient texts such as the Kojiki, Nihon shoki, and Man’yōshū to major Heian texts like the Kokinshū, The Tales of Ise, and The Tale of Genji, which became the three most heavily annotated texts. The work by these aristocrats (beginning with Fujiwara Teika, who produced what became the most authoritative versions of The Tale of Genji) in constructing and transmitting the literary canon was eventually shared by other social groups, the priests and the samurai, who also had a strong nostalgia for the Heian classics. Two great literary figures of the late Muromachi period were Shōtetsu (1381–1459), a prolific and innovative poet who is regarded as one of the last distinguished exponents of classical waka, and the renga (linked verse) master Sōgi (1421–1502), of commoner birth, who wrote influential treatises on renga and numerous commentaries on the Heian classics. Such commentaries were motivated by the fact that Japanese poetry, specifically waka and renga, the two most important literary forms, required a knowledge of the diction and allusive associations of the Heian classics.
THE PRIESTHOOD AND LITERATURE
The contribution of the Buddhist priesthood to literature was enormous, especially in light of the dominant role that Buddhism played throughout the period. The first major contribution was the hōgo, teachings of the Buddhist law in kana prose. Although Buddhist writings such as the Record of Miraculous Events in Japan (Nihon ryōiki) and The Essentials of Salvation (Ōjōyōshū) appeared in the mid-Heian period, they were written in Chinese. In the Kamakura period, however, the priest-intellectuals of the new Buddhist sects wrote in kana, thereby producing vernacular Buddhist literature. Buddhist leaders like Shinran and Ippen also wrote wasan (Buddhist hymns), which made their teachings easily accessible and available for wide dissemination. Equally important was Zen Buddhism, introduced to Japan by Dōgen (1200–1253) and others. One product of Zen culture was the literature of the Five Mountains (Gozan bungaku), writings in Chinese by Zen priests from the late thirteenth to the sixteenth century, with which Ikkyū (1394–1481), whose poetry is included here, was associated. Zen Buddhism also had a profound impact on nō drama, as is evident in works such as Stupa Komachi (Sotoba Komachi).
Equally important were the collections of setsuwa edited by Buddhist priests and used for preaching to commoners. Setsuwa were collected from as early as the Nara period, beginning with the Nihon ryōiki, and appeared in the late Heian period in the massive Collection of Tales of Times Now Past (Konjaku monogatari shū), but it was in the Kamakura period that most of the setsuwa collections were edited and produced. At that time a new type of setsuwa emerged: the engi-mono (tales of origins), which describe the origins and miraculous benefits of the god or buddha worshiped by a specific temple or shrine complex. Engi-mono were produced by the priests or shrine officials at the religious site, using historical documents and popular legend to record, embellish, or reinvent the history of the temple or shrine and to advertise the powers of the enshrined deity. Almost all of them were preserved as illustrated scrolls (emakimono). A good example is “The Avatars of Kumano” in the Shintōshū, about the origin of the gods of the Kumano Shrine. Similar kinds of illustrated scrolls formed the basis for the later Muromachi otogi-zōshi. A sekkyō (sermon-ballad) tradition emerged in which priests narrated or chanted Buddhist teachings or engi-mono with a musical accompaniment. In the late medieval period this tradition was consolidated as sekkyō-bushi (ballads sung to the beat of the sasara), performed by commoner storytellers. This genre became the basis of sekkyō jōruri (ballads sung to shamisen accompaniment), a medium for narrating double suicides and revenge tales that eventually evolved into jōruri (puppet theater) in the Tokugawa period. Buddhist priest-storytellers (monogatari sō) also became specialists in narrating military chronicles like the Taiheiki (Chronicle of Great Peace).
Buddhist priests were also prominent composers of waka and renga. In fact, there is probably no genre in the medieval period that was not related to the Buddhist clergy. One consequence is that Buddhist thought permeates medieval literature: warrior tales, historical chronicles, setsuwa, essays (zuihitsu), nō drama, otogi-zōshi, and sekkyō-bushi. Even the treatises on waka, renga, and nō drama are permeated by Buddhist perspectives. In sum, all forms of cultural production in the medieval period were inseparable from Buddhist concepts and worldviews. This is why the notion that literature amounts to nothing more than kyōgen kigo (wild words and decorative phrases) came to the fore. On the one hand, in the Buddhist context, literature and its production were thought to be illusory and even an impediment to salvation, encouraging worldly attachments. On the other hand, it could, as argued in the selections from the Collection of Sand and Pebbles (Shasekishū, 1279–1283), be rationalized by Buddhist writers as an expedient means (hōben) of teaching the Buddhist law and leading readers (or listeners) to insight and, ultimately, enlightenment.
SAIGYŌ
Satō Norikiyo, now k
nown as Saigyō (1118–1190), was the son of a wealthy family of hereditary warrior aristocrats. At the age of fifteen, he entered the service of the powerful Tokudaiji family, and later he served the retired emperor Toba as one of the Northern Guard (Hokumen no bushi), a select group of military bodyguards. Members of the Northern Guard also served as cultural companions to the retired emperor, exhibiting skill in poetry, music, kemari,1 and other aristocratic pastimes. For reasons still being debated, in 1140, at the age of twenty-three, Saigyō suddenly abandoned his post and his family to become a Buddhist monk. For the next fifty years, Saigyō alternately lived in seclusion, traveled about the country, spent time in the capital, and carried out various Buddhist activities. Throughout his tonsured life, Saigyō continued to compose poetry, increasing his fame. The pinnacle of Saigyō’s poetic influence came fifteen years after his death, when ninety-four of his poems (more than those of any other poet) were included in the imperially sponsored Shinkokinshū (New Collection of Ancient and Modern Poems, ca. 1205).
Although reliable historical documents concerning Saigyō’s life are scarce, the autobiographical nature of many of his poems has fed the imagination of readers for centuries, giving rise to a vast body of semilegendary material. “The Woman of Pleasure at Eguchi,” from the Tales of Renunciation (Senjūshō), is a good example of how Saigyō’s poems became the object of legends. It now is nearly impossible to separate the legend Saigyō from the actual poet and his poems. Saigyō spent many years in and around the capital and nearly thirty years in relative seclusion near Mount Kōya, the headquarters of the Shingon Buddhist establishment. He is best known as a travel poet, making the long and arduous trip to Michinoku (northeastern Honshū) twice—once shortly after becoming a monk and again when he was around sixty-nine years of age. He also traveled to Shikoku, Kumano, and Ise, where he spent the duration of the Genpei (Heike/Genji) war (1180–1186). After the fighting ended, Saigyō returned to the capital and then to Kawachi (near present-day Osaka), where he lived out his remaining years, dying on the sixteenth day of the Second Month in 1190.
Although Saigyō composed poetry covering the entire range of traditional waka topics, his most famous poems are on travel, reclusion, cherry blossoms, and the moon. Travel was an established category in both waka composition and the imperially sponsored anthologies. Later interpreters and scholars have perceived a special sense of immediateness in Saigyō’s travel poetry. Many waka poets never saw the poetic sites they described in their poems, relying instead on established associations of poetic place-names. Even though Saigyō is known for his travels, he also composed many poems on famous places without visiting them.
Similarly, it is not entirely clear just how secluded from the world Saigyō was. He likely lived alone in the capital or far away in Kōya or Ise, but he probably was never in total seclusion. Rather, he lived near and associated with others who had abandoned the world. Furthermore, Saigyō nourished ties with the poetic establishment; he maintained relationships with high-ranking aristocrats and imperial personages from the time of his service as a samurai; and he actively participated in poetic and Buddhistic activities in and around the capital as well as at Kōya and Ise.
SELECTED POEMS
Saigyō is noted for his poetry on cherry blossoms, being especially fond of the blossoms in the mountainous region of Yoshino, not far from Mount Kōya. Saigyō’s cherry blossom poems often express a sense of attachment to the blossoms and have been interpreted as self-remonstrative in the Buddhist sense. Saigyō’s moon poems also carry Buddhist overtones, for in both Buddhist sutras and waka, the moon is the symbol of enlightenment. Many of Saigyō’s moon poems also, however, retain the traditional association of love or longing.
Saigyō’s poetry is marked by unadorned self-expression, seeming simplicity of diction, self-reflection, and the interweaving of nature imagery with Buddhist motifs and ideals. These traits have made his poems among the most popular and influential in the poetic canon.
SANKASHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 723
At the time that I decided to abandon the world, some people at Higashiyama composed on the topic “expressing one’s feelings on mist.”
sora ni naru The empty sky
kokoro wa haru no of my heart
kasumi ni te enshrouded in spring mist
yo ni araji to mo rises to thoughts of
omoi tatsu kana leaving the world behind.2
SHINKOKINSHŪ, LOVE, NO. 1267; SANKASHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 727
When I was staying somewhere far away, I sent the following to someone in the capital around the time of the moon.
tsuki nomi ya Only the moon
uwa no sora naru in the sky above
katami ni te a vacant reminder,
omoi mo ideba should you think of me,
kokoro kayowamu perhaps it will link your heart to mine.3
SHINKOKINSHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 1535
sutsu to naraba If I’ve forsaken
ukiyo o itou the world of sorrows
shirushi aramu there must be proof I despise it—
ware ni wa kumore shroud yourself for me,
aki no yo no tsuki autumn night moon.4
SHINKOKINSHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 1611; SANKASHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 728
When I abandoned the world and was on my way to Ise, I composed this at Suzuka-yama (Bell Deer Mountain).
Suzuka-yama Suzuka Mountain,
ukiyo o yoso ni I’ve tossed aside the world of sorrows
furisutete as a stranger to myself,
ika ni nariyuku so what note will I now sound,
waga mi naruran what will become of me?5
SANKASHŪ, SPRING, NO. 66
Yoshino yama Since the day
kozue no hana o I saw the treetop blossoms
mishi hi yori in Yoshino’s mountains
kokoro wa mi ni mo my heart has not stayed
sowazu nari ni ki with my body at all.6
SHINKOKINSHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 617
Yoshino yama Mount Yoshino,
yagate ideji to I’d like to stay
omou mi o and never leave,
hana chirinaba to though some are surely waiting, thinking
hito ya matsuran “once the blossoms have fallen …”7
SANKASHŪ, SPRING, NO. 76
hana ni somu Why should my heart
kokoro no ikade remain stained
nokorikemu by blossoms,
sutehateteki to when I thought
omou waga mi ni I had tossed all that away?8
SANKASHŪ, SPRING, NO. 87
When I thought I’d like some peace and quiet, people came to see the cherry blossoms.
hanami ni to Wanting to see the blossoms
muretsutsu hito no people come in droves
kuru nomi zo to visit—this alone
atara sakura no regrettably
toga ni wa arikeru is the cherry tree’s fault.9
SANKASHŪ, SPRING, NO. 139
On the topic “cherry blossoms scattering in a dream,” composed with others at the residence of the former Kamo Priestess.
harukaze no When I dream
hana o chirasu to of spring wind
miru yume wa scattering cherry blossoms
samete mo mune no my heart stirs
sawagu narikeri even after waking.10
SHINKOKINSHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 1471
yo no naka o When I think of
omoeba nabete this world
chiru hana no all is scattering blossoms,
waga mi o satemo so where else
izuchi kamo semu might I choose to be?11
SHINKOKINSHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 1846; SANKASHŪ, SPRING, NO. 77
negawaku wa My wish is
hana no shita nite to die in spring
haru shinan under the cherry blossoms
sono kisaragi no on that day in the Second Month
mochizuki no koro when the moon is full.12
SANKASHŪ, SPRING, NO. 78
hotoke ni wa
Offer up
sakura no hana o cherry blossoms
tatematsure to the deceased,
waga nochi no yo o if anyone wishes to mourn me
hito toburawaba after I’m gone.13
SHINKOKINSHŪ, AUTUMN 1, NO. 362; SANKASHŪ, AUTUMN, NO. 470
Composed along the way to somewhere in autumn.
kokoro naki Even one
mi ni mo aware wa with no heart could not help
shirarekeri but know pathos:
shigi tatsu sawa no a snipe takes flight in a marsh
aki no yūgure this autumn evening.14
SHINKOKINSHŪ, WINTER, NO. 625
Tsu no kuni no Was spring at Naniwa
Naniwa no haru wa in Tsu Province
yume nare ya a dream?
ashi no kareha ni Wind blows
kaze wataru nari over the withered reeds’ leaves.15
SHINKOKINSHŪ, MISCELLANEOUS, NO. 1676
furuhata no From a tree
soba no tatsu ki ni standing on a cliff
iru hato no by an old field
tomo yobu koe no the voice of a dove calling a friend
sugoki yūgure in the eerie twilight.16
SANKASHŪ, AUTUMN, NO. 414
With a certain purpose in mind, I went to Ichinomiya in Aki. Along the way, at a place called Takatomi Bay, I was stopped for a while by the wind. Upon seeing moonlight filtering through a rush-thatched hut, I composed the following:
nami no oto o My heart troubled
kokoro ni kakete by the sound of the waves,
akasu kana I spend the night,
toma moru tsuki no my only friend the moon’s light
kage o tomo ni te winnowing through this hut.17
SHINKOKINSHŪ, AUTUMN 1, NO. 472
kirigirisu Cricket,
yosamu ni aki no as the autumn night cold
naru mama ni wears on,
yowaru ka koe no are you weakening?
Traditional Japanese Literature Page 43