The Plum Rains and Other Stories
Page 19
Her thrust cut off-centre, and she lay shuddering on her side, the knife embedded under her jaw and pinning her tongue to her palate but not deep enough to reach the brain. One hand had been knocked off the hilt and it grabbed at the dirt of the courtyard, scraping at it as if digging there, forming ridges the way the receding tide leaves wave-patterns in the sand, then doing that less and less then no longer doing it.
Old Hori smoothed down the hem of her robe. He let his hand rest for a moment on her ankle. Then he sat back and stripped off the top of his death robe by lifting his arms out. He tucked the sleeves under his feet to help keep his body aligned. His assistant came up behind him with his sword unsheathed. Hori wrapped a thick white hand cloth around the blade of his small sword so that he could grip it below the hilt. He instructed his assistant to permit him to finish the entire ritual. I thank the shogunate for this opportunity to redeem my son and myself, Hori said. He sat for a moment very still. Then he inhaled and with a shout of praise stabbed the blade into the side of his abdomen, gasping like someone plunged in cold water. Using both hands he dragged the blade across slicing deeply. In the spill of the blood slobber, the first blue loops of intestines slithered out squirming onto his thighs. His face drained to white and his eyes locked. He pulled out the blade and stabbed inwards a second time, straining against the shriek of it, and his attendant hit him perfectly. His head landed between his knees and his corpse remained kneeling upright, blood draining out of his neck-stump, both hands still gripping the blade locked in his belly.
The steward leaned back to listen to the man behind the screen then turned to Aoi again. He stared at her for a long moment then signalled for her ropes to be cut. Aoi was pulled to her feet and held upright by her guards, her legs too weak to support her.
You are not to be given a Buddhist name. You have no family name. You will continue to be called Aoi, but this word will be written with kana syllables only. You will stay all your life where we put you. No other activity will be allowed, no travel, no visits, no walks in the hills. You are only a thing waiting to die. Is there any part of this you don’t understand?
Aoi said nothing at first then lifted her head slightly with her eyes still on the earth before her and said, I understand it.
You will travel tomorrow on your last road. You will take the Hori funerary plaques with you. And each morning and each evening you will offer prayers for the repose of the souls of the Hori. That is what you will do. And it is all you will ever do.
An evening shower:
on the railing hang forgotten robes of silk gauze.
THE SHOGUNATE OFFICIAL STOOD alone beside the trunk of an immense cedar that was girded by a sanctity rope, its sodden white paper streamers hanging limply in the steady drizzle. Ox-Blossom told her he had been sent as an emissary of the Tokugawa family. Changes had occurred which would affect her. He said a writer from Edo had also come with him. Chibi-kun is admired for his imagination, said Ox-Blossom. He’ll join us once you and I have reached an agreement.
Chibi-kun?
The writer. His stories are popular in the pleasure quarters.
When Aoi seemed to have nothing to say to this, Ox-Blossom explained that the shogun had begun reviewing policies established by his predecessors.
It’s been decided to rehabilitate the Hori clan, Ox-Blossom said. Their death plaques will be moved to the family’s mortuary temple.
Ox-Blossom bowed in polite recognition that this news might come as a surprise to the nun, and rain-flow on the front brim of his round hat slid off in a smooth arc as he did so. He straightened up and said, Your own name will also be restored to you.
Aoi turned away. She followed a path that led around the edge of the forecourt and up towards the nunnery’s cemetery. A brook flowed beside the path, the far bank lined with purple irises beaded with rain. She stopped as if concerned with the flowers then looked back at the emissary.
I decline it, Aoi said.
She continued on up the path, rain rattling on her oil-paper umbrella, and Ox-Blossom trailed after her.
I’ve been buried here, Aoi said. I have no wish for a name to survive me.
Probably I have expressed myself poorly, said Ox-Blossom. By granting you your name, the shogun is also restoring your access to the world.
Aoi didn’t respond, but her head tilted forward under the amber rain-light of her umbrella, and the shadows on her face darkened.
Ox-Blossom continued cheerfully. You can go where you wish. Do whatever you choose. Young Chibi-kun has ideas. He wants to write the story of your amorous life. He feels there is money to be made.
Aoi stared at him. My life…?
Chibi-kun is clever with words. He says he appreciates the dramatic possibilities of women who loved too passionately, for he himself has experienced such moods.
Aoi said nothing. But her face softened with sadness at memories of the past; and unsure as to whether or not she seemed about to reconsider her refusal, Ox-Blossom tried again to encourage her, promising that she would be surprised by the changes in the world, for nothing she had known was as it had been.
Not looking for what has been lost:
the long plum rains.
POEMS IN THE PLUM RAINS
Poems that separate sections of ‘The Plantain’, ‘Under Blossoming Boughs’ and ‘Winter Seclusion’, and the poem Ox-Blossom writes on his travel hat, are my translations of haiku by Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694). Other poems and poetic fragments in these stories are pastiches of my own devising, sometimes based on well-known Japanese originals.
Page 13 – ‘The first snowfall: / what happiness to be in my own house.’
Hatsuyuki ya saiwai an ni makariaru.
Page 15 – ‘On an old gilt screen, the image of an ancient pine: / winter seclusion.’
Kinbyō no matsu no furusa yo fuyugomori.
Page 36 – ‘Spring arrives / in the faint haze that wreathes these nameless hills.’
Haru nare ya na mo naki yama no usugasumi.
Pge 38 – ‘Clouds of cherry blossoms, / is the temple bell at Ueno? At Asakusa?’
Hana no kumo kane wa ueno ka asakusa ka.
Page 39 – ‘How envious: / mountain cherries north of this floating world.’
Urayamashi ukiyo no kita no yamazakura.
Page 40 – ‘Recollecting various things: / the blooming of cherry blossoms.’
Samazama no koto omoidasu sakura kana.
Page 41 – ‘A bush warbler / shits on the rice cakes at the end of the veranda.’
Uguisu ya mochi ni funsuru en no saki.
Page 45 – ‘Under the trees, soup and fish salad too: / cherry blossoms.’
Ki no moto ni shiru mo namasu mo sakura kana.
Page 47 –‘The bell fades, / but the scent of blossoms resonates in the evening.’
Kane kiete hana no ka wa tsuku yūbe kana.
Page 50 – ‘Only briefly above the cherry trees: / tonight’s moon.’
Shibaraku wa hana no ue naru tsukiyo kana.
Page 68 – ‘Winter seclusion: / once again leaning against this old alcove post.’
Fuyugomori mata yorisowan kono hashira.
Page 73 – ‘Despite the cold, / two of us sleeping together is pleasurable.’
Samukeredo futari neru yo zo tanomoshiki.
Page 152 – ‘Ill while travelling, in my dreams still wandering over withered moors.’
Tabi ni yande yume wa kareno o kakemeguru.
About the Author
John Givens studied art and Japanese literature in Kyoto for four years and worked in Tokyo for eight years as a writer and editor. He received an MFA in creative writing from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop where he was also a Teaching/Writing Fellow. Givens has published three novels in the United States, Sons of the Pioneers, A Friend in the Police and Living Alone, as well as numerous short stories and poems in a variety of literary journals in the US, Asia and Europe. His nonfiction books include A Guide to Dublin Bay: Mirror to the City and Iri
sh Walled Towns, both published by The Liffey Press. Givens currently lives in Howth, County Dublin.
Copyright
First published in 2012
by The Liffey Press, Raheny Shopping Centre, Second Floor, Raheny, Dublin 5, Ireland
This ebook edition first published in 2012
All rights reserved
© John Givens, 2012
The right of John Givens to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
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ISBN 978–1–908308–16–0