The Tale of Genji: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition) (Junichiro Breakdown of Genji)

by Murasaki Shikibu

  One quiet, rainy evening he went to call on Her Majesty, who had few women with her at the time. During their conversation he remarked, “I was once criticized for going off year after year to a remote mountain village, but I continued to do so because I liked to think that some things are fated and that one needs sometimes to follow one's heart; but I came to dislike the place in the end, probably because of the particular quality it has, and the journey there then seemed very long. For a good while I stopped going altogether, but recently I went again and found renewed occasion to reflect on the brevity of life. The house there struck me as a hermit's dwelling, purposely built to arouse sacred aspiration.”

  Her Majesty remembered what she had heard from His Reverence, and she pitied the Commander. “Some terrifying spirit must live there,” she said. “How did you come to lose her?”

  Ah, he thought, she must have noticed that this was not the first time. “Perhaps it does. There are always evil things lurking in isolated places like that. It was strange, you know, the way she died.” He told her no more. It pained Her Majesty to imagine him guessing that she already knew what he had hoped to conceal. She thought of how preoccupied His Highness had been and of how he had even been ill at the time, and she felt for him after all. She decided that for the sake of them both the subject was too delicate to pursue.

  She said quietly to Kozaishō, “The Commander spoke of that young woman with very great feeling, and I was so sorry for him that I almost talked to him about her, but then I thought better of it, in case she might not really be the same one. You are the one who actually heard the story. The next time you talk to him, tell him what His Reverence said, but keep the difficult parts to yourself.”

  “But, Your Majesty, how could I bring up with him something of which even you hesitate to speak?”

  “No, no, everything in its place. Besides, I have a particular reason to be discreet.”

  Kozaishō understood and admired Her Majesty's tact.

  Kozaishō told the Commander the next time he saw her. How could he not have been speechless with amazement? That question Her Majesty asked me must mean that she has heard something of what happened, but why did she not tell me? he wondered bitterly. Of course, I never said anything to her at the time; in fact, I assumed that I would look a worse fool once people knew, and I never told anyone at all. No doubt people have heard anyway, though. The way the world is, secrets that people want to keep always get out in the end.

  Still, he could not yet bring himself to confess everything to Kozaishō. “The person you describe sounds very like one whose fate has puzzled me,” he said. “Do you think that she is still there?”

  “His Reverence made her a nun the day he came down from the Mountain. The people looking after her would not allow it even when she was extremely ill, because it seemed such a shame. I gather that she herself is the one who told His Reverence that it was her ardent wish.”

  It was the same place, and all the details matched. How strange it will feel if this young woman really turns out to be she! How can I make sure? People may well think me an idiot if I start making inquiries in person, and if His Highness were to hear of it, he would certainly do everything in his power to prevent her from following the path she has chosen. Perhaps Her Majesty said nothing, despite her knowledge of this extraordinary matter, because he asked her not to. If he is involved, I shall have to consider her well and truly dead, however strongly I may feel about her. If she is among the living again, then in the fullness of time she and I will no doubt have occasion to talk together about the Yellow Springs.51 I shall not wish to have her for myself again. These anguished reflections led him to doubt that Her Majesty would ever tell him, and he therefore decided to contrive a moment to raise the matter with her himself.

  “I was recently surprised to learn that someone whose loss distressed me very much is still alive under painful circumstances,” he said. “I found the report difficult to believe, but I had never imagined her acting so drastically to leave me, and I therefore took it as quite possibly true, since it sounded rather like her after all.” He told Her Majesty a little more, refraining with admirable dignity from speaking angrily of the role His Highness had played in the story. “His Highness is sure to think me ridiculously obsessed if he hears that I am looking for her again, so I mean to pretend that I know nothing.”

  “His Reverence described a night so terrifying that I retained little of what he said. I doubt that His Highness has heard any of this. What I gather of his attitude is shocking, and I would be very sorry indeed if he were ever to learn of this. I regret it extremely that he should be known for his deplorable frivolity.” She was thoroughly deliberate, and he knew that even in intimate conversation she would never betray anything told her in confidence.

  He pondered the matter day and night. What mountain village can she be living in? How am I to go quietly about finding her? I suppose the best thing would be to go and see His Reverence and hear from him what actually happened.

  He regularly visited the Main Hall52 on the Mountain in connection with solemn rites he had performed there monthly, on the eighth day, in honor of the Buddha Yakushi,53 and he therefore decided to go on from there to Yokawa. He took her young brother with him. I shall not tell her mother immediately—I had better see first how things stand, he decided, perhaps to heighten the dreamlike character of their eventual reunion. Still, he dwelled apprehensively all the way there on how painful it would be, even if he recognized her, to find her in pathetic guise among strange-looking women and with a distressing tale to tell.

  54

  YUME NO UKIHASHI

  The Floating Bridge of Dreams

  The expression yume no ukihashi (“the floating bridge of dreams”) does not appear in this chapter, and its significance as the chapter title is a matter of debate.

  RELATIONSHIP TO EARLIER CHAPTERS

  “The Floating Bridge of Dreams” continues the story of “Writing Practice” without any break, during Kaoru's twenty-eighth year.

  PERSONS

  The Commander, age 28 (Kaoru)

  His Reverence, the Prelate of Yokawa, over 60 (Yokawa no Sōzu)

  Ukifune's younger half brother (Kogimi)

  A young woman, around 22 to 23 (Ukifune)

  The Prelate's sister, a nun

  The Commander went to the Mountain and had images and copies of the scriptures dedicated there, according to his custom. The next day he continued on to Yokawa, where His Reverence received him with awe and surprise. The two had never been particularly close, although the Commander had commissioned prayers from him over the years, but now, after witnessing the remarkable wonders that His Reverence had worked for the ailing First Princess, he presumably felt new respect for him and somewhat greater faith than before; surely, His Reverence said to himself as he hastened to greet him, that must explain this visit from so weighty a lord. The Commander spoke at length, and His Reverence offered him rice and so on.

  “Do you by any chance have a house at Ono?” the Commander asked once his men had settled down a little.

  “Yes, I do. It is not much of a place, you know. My mother is a nun, and very old by now, and I thought that it might do for her while I am on retreat on the Mountain, since I have no proper house in the City. I can visit her there at any time, day or night.”

  “I gather that a good many people lived at the place until recently, but that now it is almost deserted.” He moved closer to His Reverence and went on, very low, “You could hardly approve, I am afraid, and I hesitate to bring the matter up in any case, but you see, I have heard that someone for whom I feel responsible is in hiding there. I had meant to speak to you once I was certain about her, but I am told that you have given her the Precepts and that she is now your disciple. Is that true? The thing is, she is still young, and she has a mother, and I am being accused of having caused her death.”

  I see, His Reverence said to himself. I knew that she did not look like any common girl, and
judging from the way he talks about her, she meant a great deal to him. Monk though he was, he rued having clothed her so thoughtlessly and so abruptly in the habit of a nun, and it took him some effort to devise an answer. He obviously has good information, his thoughts went on, and it would be pointless to keep anything from him if he knows that much and now wants more. Any attempt to do so would only make more trouble.

  After a moment's reflection His Reverence therefore replied, “I wonder whom you mean. Perhaps you have in mind the young woman who has privately baffled me a good deal over the past few months.” He continued, “The nuns there went on pilgrimage to pray at Hatsuse, and on the way back they stayed at the place called the Uji Villa. While they were there, I had word that my mother was suddenly very ill, and I went to her. I made that strange discovery as soon as I arrived.” He went on in a whisper, “My sister abandoned her dying mother to care very tenderly for her instead. The young woman appeared to be dead, but she was still breathing, and I was reminded in my astonishment of that old tale about someone's coming back to life after being put in the soul sanctuary.1 I summoned disciples with healing powers and had them perform rites for her turn by turn. As for myself, my mother is of course old enough that one need not regret her passing, but I prayed to the Buddha to spare her such suffering while she was away from home and to allow her to call the Name without distraction, and meanwhile I saw very little of the young woman. I assumed on reflection that a goblin2 or tree spirit must have taken her to the spot by deceit. She remained as though dead for three months, even after she had been saved and taken to the City.3 My sister, the widow of a late Intendant of the Gate Watch and now a nun herself, lost her only daughter quite a long time ago, and she has mourned her deeply ever since. To her it was simply a marvelous gift from Kannon to come across a girl of the same age, and a remarkable beauty besides. She did everything she possibly could to keep her alive, and she begged me with such tears to come down myself that I eventually did. I performed a protective rite, after which the young woman at last revived and became human; but she told me sadly that she felt as though the thing that had possessed her was still with her after all, and that she wanted to escape its evil influence and devote herself to praying for the life to come. I found her wish praiseworthy, since I am a monk myself, and I allowed her to become a nun. Of course it never occurred to me that you yourself had a claim to responsibility for her. I have said nothing for all these months because my old nuns insisted that there would be trouble if people heard about her—the circumstances are so extraordinary that they would certainly talk if they did.”

  Having already come this far to verify a distant rumor, the Commander nonetheless felt as though he must be dreaming when he realized that the young woman he had been sure was dead was in point of fact alive, and he could not keep tears from springing to his eyes. He did not wish to betray any such weakness in His Reverence's daunting presence, however, and he therefore managed to maintain his composure.

  Meanwhile His Reverence felt as though he had committed a grave error in turning a young woman so important to the Commander into someone who might as well be dead. “No doubt she was possessed by an evil spirit, but it must have been her destiny from past lives that led her to it. I assume that she was born into a noble family. What possible slip of hers can have earned her this fate?”

  “I believe that one can say she is more or less of imperial descent. I myself did not intend to honor her particularly, but although it was hardly more than chance that brought her to me, I never felt that she deserved to fall this far. After her extraordinary disappearance I considered among many other things the possibility that she might have drowned herself, but you see, I had no credible information to go on. As far as I am concerned, I am just as glad that she is what she is now, since that will lighten her sins, but I gather that her mother is distraught. I would like to tell her mother what I have learned, but I am afraid that my doing so would cancel out the care you have taken to hide her all this time and that it might only cause trouble. A still-lively affection for her daughter would certainly make her want to go and visit her.”

  The Commander then came to the heart of the matter. “I apologize for requesting a favor so beneath your dignity,” he said, “but please be good enough to take me to Ono. She is not someone whom I can now merely set aside, after what I have heard, and I should like to discuss with her all these things that sound so much like a dream.”

  He spoke as though he loved her very much, and His Reverence felt most unpleasantly caught. She thinks that she is a nun now and has renounced the world, but even a shaven-headed monk still has unworthy desires, and what then of her, a woman? Alas, the poor girl's present state only invites her to sin! “I cannot go down there in the next few days,” he said. “I shall be in touch with you early next month.”

  The Commander was not in a position to insist too impatiently, whatever the degree of his frustration, and he therefore resigned himself and prepared to leave. He had brought her little brother—a better-looking boy than her other half brothers—with him, and he now called him in. “He is the young woman's close relative, and I mean to send him there straightaway,” he explained. “Please give him a note to take with him. Do not mention me directly; just let her know that someone is looking for her.”

  “It would be a sin for me to play any such part in bringing you to her. I have already told you everything. It is up to you now to go to her yourself and then to act according to your judgment. I see nothing wrong with your doing so.”

  The Commander smiled. “I am mortified that my request should seem to you to carry the danger of sin. I myself hardly understand how I can have lived this long as a layman. My deepest desire ever since my youth has been to leave the world, but unfortunately, Her Cloistered Highness of Sanjō has no one but me, not that I am worthy, and she is a tie that I have never been able to ignore. While looking after her I have continued to rise in rank, and by now I am no longer really my own master. The matter preoccupies me as always, but new concerns keep arising to dissuade me from acting, until there is little I can do to evade them, in either my private or my official life. For the rest, however, I take care never to do what the Buddha forbids, to the extent that I understand these things, and at heart I am no less than a holy man myself. How could I possibly place myself at risk of sin in so trivial a matter? No, that cannot be! You must not doubt me. I shall be perfectly happy if only I am able to discover her circumstances for myself and to set her mother's heart at rest.”

  His Reverence nodded his assent. “Your intentions are most praiseworthy,” he said. The sun was going down. Ono would have been a good place to spend the night on the way back, but the Commander did not feel prepared to go there himself while still as confused as he felt, and he prepared to return directly to the City.

  Meanwhile the boy had caught His Reverence's eye. “You might just have him let her know what to expect,” the Commander remarked. His Reverence therefore wrote the note and gave it to the boy. “You must come and see me sometimes on the Mountain,” he said. “You may feel that I am not really a stranger.” The boy did not understand him, but he took the note and set off with the Commander. The Commander had his escort spread out a little when they reached Ono. “I do not want to attract attention,” he said.

  At Ono the view was all of green and leafy mountains, and there was little otherwise to distract the eye. The young woman was seeking the comfort of old memories in the fireflies along the garden brook and gazing as usual out toward the mouth of the valley when she noticed there a large escort with bright torches ceremoniously making their way past.

  His Reverence's sister came out to the veranda. “I wonder who it is,” said one of her women. “It seems to be a very large escort indeed.”

  “Today when His Reverence thanked me for that dried seaweed I sent him, he said that it had come at just the right time, because he was entertaining his lordship the Commander,” the nun replied.

  “Do yo
u mean the Commander who married Her Highness the Second Princess?”

  How remote the place was, and how dismally rustic! Yes, it must be he. She clearly recognized the voices of retainers who had come with him sometimes on his journeys to Uji. Time had not effaced those memories, but what good were they to her now? Repelled, she sought refuge in the thought of Amida and sat in more than usually profound silence. The only people who went that way were those traveling to or from Yokawa.

  The Commander wanted to send the boy straight to her, but there were too many people with him for that to be advisable. Instead he returned home and discreetly sent him off the next day, with two or three particularly close retainers and the attendant he used to dispatch to Uji.

  He called in the boy while no one else was listening. “Do you remember what your sister looked like—the one who died? I had concluded that she was no longer in this world, but now it seems that she is quite definitely alive. Go and see her, then. I want to avoid letting anyone not close to her know. Do not tell your mother yet. It is too soon. She would only start a commotion, and people who ought not to know would find out. I am pursuing this matter only because I feel so sorry for her.” He swore the boy again to silence.

  The boy had many brothers and sisters, but this one's exceptional beauty had always deeply impressed him in his childish way, and the news of her death had made him very sad. The Commander's words started tears of joy, and his embarrassed attempt to hide them produced a rather brusque “As you wish!”

  A note from His Reverence reached Ono early that morning. He had written, “Did a boy, a messenger from his lordship the Commander, come to you yesterday evening? Please tell the young lady that I am dismayed, now that I have heard what happened, and that I actually have some regrets. I myself have a great deal to tell her, and I shall wait upon you in a few days.”