The Diary of Lady Murasaki

by Murasaki Shikibu

  When my brother, Secretary at the Ministry of Ceremonial,76 was a young boy learning the Chinese classics, I was in the habit of listening with him and I became unusually proficient at understanding those passages that he found too difficult to grasp and memorize. Father, a most learned man, was always regretting the fact: ‘Just my luck!’ he would say. ‘What a pity she was not born a man!’ But then I gradually realized that people were saying ‘It’s bad enough when a man flaunts his Chinese learning; she will come to no good,’ and since then I have avoided writing the simplest character. My handwriting is appalling. And as for those ‘classics’ or whatever they are that I used to read, I gave them up entirely. Yet still I kept on hearing these remarks; so in the end, worried what people would think if they heard such rumours, I pretended to be incapable of reading even the inscriptions on the screens. Then Her Majesty asked me to read with her here and there from the Collected Works of Po Chü-i,77 and, because she evinced a desire to know more about such things, to keep it secret we carefully chose times when the other women would not be present, and, from the summer before last, I started giving her informal lessons on the two volumes of ‘New Ballads’. I hid this fact from others, as did Her Majesty, but somehow both His Excellency and His Majesty got wind of it and they had some beautiful copies made of various Chinese books, which His Excellency then presented to her. That gossip Saemon no Naishi could never have found out that Her Majesty had actually asked me to study with her, for had she done so, I would never have heard the last of it. Ah, what a prattling, tiresome world it is!

  Why should I hesitate to say what I want to? Whatever others might say, I intend to immerse myself in reading sūtras for Amida Buddha. Since I have lost what little attachment I ever had for the pains that life has to offer, you might expect me to become a nun without delay. But even supposing I were to commit myself and turn my back on the world, I am certain there would be moments of irresolution before Amida came for me riding on his clouds. And thus I hesitate. I know the time is opportune. If I get much older my eyesight will surely weaken, I shall be unable to read sūtras, and my spirits will fail. It may seem that I am merely going through the motions of being a true believer, but I assure you that now I think of little else. But then someone with as much to atone for as myself may not qualify for salvation; there are so many things that serve to remind one of the transgressions of a former existence.78 Everything conspires to make me unhappy.

  I want to reveal all to you, the good and the bad, worldly matters and private sorrows, things that I cannot really go on discussing in this letter. But, even though one may be thinking about and describing someone objectionable, should one really go on like this, I wonder? But you must find life irksome at times. I know I do, as you can see. Write to me with your own thoughts – no matter if you have less to say than all my useless prattle, I would love to hear from you. Mind you, if this letter ever got into the wrong hands it would be a disaster – there are ears everywhere.

  I have recently torn up and burned most of my old letters and papers. I used the rest to make dolls’ houses this last spring and since then no one has written. I feel I should not use new paper, so I am afraid this will look very shabby. It is not through lack of care; quite the opposite.

  Please return this as soon as you have read it. There may be parts that are difficult to read and places where I have left out a word or two, but just disregard them and read it through. So you see – I still fret over what others think of me, and, if I had to sum up my position, I would have to admit that I still retain a deep sense of attachment to this world. But what can I do about it?

  *

  Her Majesty went over to the Dedication Hall just before dawn on the eleventh.79 Her Excellency was with her in the carriage and the ladies-in-waiting crossed by boat. I went over much later in the evening. They were in the process of distributing lotus petals and intoning the Great Confession exactly as it is performed at Hieizan and the Miidera. The nobles had been amusing themselves painting small white pagodas on as many petals as they could, but now most of them had left and only a few remained.

  In the early morning each of the preachers – there were twenty – gave a little congratulatory sermon in honour of Her Majesty; a number of them caused some amusement because they kept on interrupting each other and getting tongue-tied.

  When it was all over, the senior courtiers took the boats and rowed out together on to the lake to play music. On the eastern veranda of the Hall in front of the open side door sat Tadanobu, the Master of Her Majesty’s Household. He was leaning against the railings of the steps that ran down to the water’s edge. When His Excellency went inside to talk to Her Majesty for a moment, Tadanobu took the opportunity to exchange a few words with Lady Saishō; what with him outside the screens and her inside trying not to appear too intimate in front of Her Majesty, it was quite a performance.

  A hazy moon emerged. It was refreshing and pleasant to hear His Excellency’s sons all in the one boat singing songs in the modern style, but it was amusing to see Masamitsu, Minister of the Treasury, who had got in with them in all seriousness, now sitting there meekly with his back to us, not unnaturally loath to take part. The women behind the screens laughed softly. ‘And in the boat he seems to feel his age,’ I said.

  The Master of the Household must have heard me.

  ‘Hsu Fu and Wen Ch’eng were empty braggarts,’ he murmured. I was most impressed.80

  ‘And the duckweed upon the lake,’ came the words of the song; there was also a flute accompanying them which somehow intensified the coolness of the dawn breeze. The most insignificant thing can have its season.

  His Excellency happened to see that Her Majesty had the Tale of Genji with her. Out came the usual comments, and then on a piece of paper that held some plums he wrote:

  She is known for her tartness

  So I am sure that no one seeing her

  Could pass without a taste

  and he handed it to me.

  She is a fruit that no one has yet tasted –

  Who then can smack his lips and talk of tartness?81

  ‘I am shocked,’ I replied.

  One night as I lay asleep in a room in the corridor, there came the sound of someone tapping at the door. I was so frightened that I kept quiet for the rest of the night. Early next morning I received:

  Crying crying all night long

  More constant than the water rail

  In vain did I tap at your door.

  To which I replied:

  The water rail was indeed insistent;

  But had I opened up, come dawn,

  I may well have had bitter regrets.82

  *

  This year, each day for the first three days of the New Year, the senior ladies-in-waiting all accompanied the imperial princes to the Palace for the ceremony of the rice cakes.83 Yorimichi, Commander of the Gate Guards of the Left, carried the boys in his arms, and His Excellency himself passed on the rice cakes, presenting them to His Majesty, who in turn stood facing the eastern doors of the Two-Bay Room and placed the cakes on their heads. The processions there and back were marvellous spectacles. Her Majesty did not attend.

  On New Year’s Day this year Lady Saishō was in charge of serving the meal. As usual she was most tastefully dressed and looked very attractive. Two maids, Takumi and Hyōgo, were also present; but with her hair done up Lady Saishō really stood out, poor thing.

  The woman in charge of the spiced wine, Lady Fuya, was officious and overbearing. The distribution of the ointment was carried out as usual.

  On the second day, Her Majesty’s formal banquet was cancelled, so the guests for the informal gathering were accommodated as usual by opening up the eastern gallery. The nobles sat facing each other in two rows. Present were Mentor and Major Counsellor Michitsuna, Major Captain of the Right Sanesuke, Master of Her Majesty’s Household Tadanobu, Shijō Major Counsellor Kintō, Middle Counsellor Elect Takaie, Gentleman-in-waiting and Middle Counsellor Yukinari,
Commander of the Gate Guards of the Left Yorimichi, Adviser Arikuni, Minister of the Treasury Masamitsu, Commander of the Military Guards of the Left Sanenari and Adviser Minamoto no Yorisada. Middle Counsellor Minamoto no Toshikata, Commander of the Gate Guards of the Right Yasuhira, and Advisers of the Left Tsunefusa and of the Right Kanetaka sat on the veranda outside at the head of the senior courtiers.

  His Excellency picked up the elder prince in his arms and brought him out, making him greet the guests with a word and generally fussing over him. Then, turning to Her Excellency, he said ‘Let me take the younger one now.’ At this the elder boy grew very jealous and wailed in protest, so that His Excellency had to fuss over him again to placate him. Major Captain Sanesuke and a few others found this very amusing.

  Then they all went to pay their respects to His Majesty, who came out to meet them in the Senior Courtier’s Hall. There was music and His Excellency started drinking as usual. Foreseeing trouble, I made myself inconspicuous, but to no avail.

  ‘Why!’ he cried in a vexed tone. ‘Why, when I asked him to attend the concert, did your papa scuttle off like that? Sulking is he?’

  Then he pressed me further.

  ‘Give me a poem good enough to compensate!’ he said. ‘For your father. It’s the first day of the Rat. Come on, come on!’

  But it would have been out of place for me to have done so.

  He did not seem to be very drunk; in fact he looked rather handsome and attractive, standing there in the light of the torches.

  ‘I was worried to see Her Majesty alone without any children for so long,’ he said. ‘But now they seem to be everywhere! How marvellous!’ And with that he went over to take a peek at the princes, who were by now both asleep.

  ‘If there were no small pines in the fields,’84 he murmured to himself. Such a fitting reference, I felt; far better than any new poem of mine could have ever been. I was most impressed.

  Next day, sometime late in the afternoon, the sky suddenly became very misty, but the eaves were built so close together that all I could see of it was a patch just above the roof of the corridor opposite. I happened to be with Lady Nakatsukasa and I told her how moved I had been by His Excellency’s impromptu reference of the previous evening. What a sensitive, intelligent creature she is!

  I went home for a short while but then returned for the fiftieth-day celebrations for the Second Prince, which took place on the fifteenth of the first month. I arrived at the Palace just before dawn, but Lady Koshōshō came much later when it was fully light, which was rather embarrassing for her. As usual we shared. We had made our two adjacent rooms into one, using it even when one of us was away at home. When we were both serving at court hanging curtains were all that separated us. His Excellency was amused.

  ‘What happens when you entertain someone the other one does not know?’ he said. A tasteless remark. In any case, we are both very close to each other, so there would be no problem.

  About midday, we went to attend to Her Majesty. Lady Koshōshō wore a red jacket over robes of white figured silk lined with red, with the usual printed train. I wore a jacket with cuffs of white lined with pale green over robes of crimson lined with purple, and pale green lined with a slightly darker green, together with a printed train; it was all a bit extravagant and so youthful looking that I should have exchanged my dress for hers. Seventeen women from the Palace were also in attendance on Her Majesty. Lady Tachibana was in charge of serving the Second Prince’s meal. The women whose job it was to pass in the food were Kodayū and Genshikibu, who sat outside by the veranda, and Lady Koshōshō, who sat inside.

  The Emperor and Her Majesty were in their respective curtained daises. They were as resplendent as the morning sun, dazzling in their brilliance. The Emperor wore ordinary court dress with wide trousers drawn in at the ankles. Her Majesty wore her usual unlined crimson dress, robes of crimson lined with purple, pale green lined with darker green, white lined with pale green, and yellow lined with darker yellow. Her mantle was of light purple figured silk, over which she wore an informal outer robe that was white lined with pale green. The pattern and colours were most unusual and up-to-date. Since it was too exposed out there in front, I made myself inconspicuous in the back.

  Lady Nakatsukasa, carrying the little prince in her arms, came out from between the two daises and brought him into the southern part of the hall. In no way formal or imposing, she has, however, composure and dignity, and looks intelligent; a born teacher. She wore light purple robes of figured silk, a mantle of plain green, and a jacket with cuffs of white lined with dark red.

  That day all the women had done their utmost to dress well, but, as luck would have it, two of them showed a want of taste when it came to the colour combinations at their sleeves, and as they served the food they came into full view of the nobles and senior courtiers. Later, it seemed that Lady Saishō and the others had been mortified; but it was not such a terrible mistake – it was just that the combinations were rather uninspiring. Kodayū had worn an unlined crimson dress with robes of five layers in differing shades of crimson with purple linings. Her jacket was white lined with deep red. It seems that Genshikibu had worn robes of deep crimson lined with purple and a damask mantle of crimson lined again with purple. Was it because her jacket was not of figured silk? But that would be ridiculous.85 The slightest mistake in a formal setting should indeed be the subject of censure, but there is no sense in criticizing the material itself.

  After the ceremony of touching the rice cake to the children’s lips was over and the trays were removed, the gallery blinds were rolled up. Then the women from the Palace moved over to sit in close ranks to the west of the dais, where His Majesty usually sat. Lady Tachibana was there together with a number of assistant handmaids.

  As for Her Majesty’s women, the younger ones sat out on the veranda and the senior ones sat in the eastern gallery, where the screens on the south side had been replaced by blinds. I went to where Lady Dainagon and Lady Koshōshō were sitting in the narrow space between Her Majesty’s dais and the eastern gallery and watched the proceedings from there.

  His Majesty moved to his seat and the food was brought in. It was so beautifully arranged I cannot find words to describe it. Out on the southern veranda facing north and ranked from west to east sat the nobles. The three Great Ministers of the Left, Right and Centre were there, as were Michitsuna, the Crown Prince’s Mentor, Tadanobu, Master of Her Majesty’s Household, and Kintō, Shijō Major Counsellor. From where I was sitting I could not see the others below them.

  There was music. The senior courtiers sat in the corridor at the south-eastern corner of the wing and those of lower rank sat where they usually did on these occasions, in the garden – men like Kagemasa, Korekaze, Yukiyoshi and Tōmasa.

  Up in the gallery Kintō marked time with the clappers. Chamberlain Michikata played the biwa,****86 the koto, and Adviser Tsunefusa the hand pipes. They sang ‘Ah how sacred!’ ‘Mushiroda’ and ‘These Halls’, all to the sōjō mode.87 For music they chose the last two movements of the ‘Dance of the Kalavinka Bird’. Down in the garden flues were playing in accompaniment. The one who made a mistake in marking time for the songs and who was scolded for it was the Governor of Ise. The Minister of the Right, Akimitsu, became somewhat over-enthusiastic about the koto playing and started to play pranks which ended up with his making a dreadful fool of himself.88 We all shuddered to watch. I saw His Excellency present the Emperor with a box containing the famous flute Hafutatsu.89

  APPENDIX 1

  GROUND – PLANS AND MAP

  GROUNDPLAN 1

  Tsuchimikado Mansion

  GROUNDPLAN 2

  Tsuchimikado Mansion - Detail

  GROUNDPLAN 3

  Birth of Atsuhira

  GROUNDPLAN 4

  The First Bath

  GROUNDPLAN 5

  Fifth-Day Celebrations

  GROUNDPLAN 6

  The Imperial Visit

  GROUNDPLAN 7

 
; Fiftieth-Day Celebrations

  GROUNDPLAN 8

  Ichijō Palace

  The capital city in Heian Japan

  APPENDIX 2

  ADDITIONAL SOURCES

  In part because the birth of Prince Atsuhira was such an important event for Michinaga and his branch of the Fujiwara family, there are a number of extant records in Sino-Japanese that cover similar ground to Murasaki’s diary. Not only do they provide a background of factual details which often help us to understand her diary correctly, but they also reveal the different perspective that men writing in Sino-Japanese and women writing in pure Japanese brought to their description of events at court. Translated here are a few relevant sections from two of the three anonymous descriptions, Fuchiki A and B, taken from a manuscript in the Imperial Library entitled Gosanki burui (‘Classified Records of Imperial Births’), and from Fujiwara no Sanesuke’s diary the Shōyūki. Except for Fuchiki B these extracts cover the main events during the ninth month of 1008.

  (a) Fuchiki A

  (Probably of much later provenance and influenced by Murasaki’s diary)

  Kankō 5 (1008).8.11. The furnishings for Her Majesty’s lying-in were brought over from the Palace. One dais made of white wood with damask curtains and five supports each painted white; three pairs of five-foot screens and three pairs of four-foot screens made of white damask backed with black, black and white design on the borders, and the usual gold fittings; three pairs of four-foot curtain frames and two pairs of three-foot frames with damask curtains; thirteen thick mats with borders of white damask; everything else had damask edging too; one extra cover edged with figured silk. Everything packed in black lacquer boxes and containers.