The Tales of Ise (Penguin Classics)
Page 19
65
The Young Love of Narihira
The Tales places the hero in many different situations, all of which are meant to enhance the reader’s image of him as an ideal lover. Episode 63 pairs the experienced hero with an old woman whereas Episode 65 is a depiction of the passion of the young hero; Episodes 1 and 40 also give accounts of youthful love. The reference to a ‘very young man from the Ariwara family [who] was serving in the Privy Chamber of the palace’ leaves no doubt that the man in question was Narihira. This tale, thought to depict the hero’s love for Takaiko, the Empress of the Second Avenue, is one of the longest in the Tales. Unlike in Episodes 3, 4, 5 and 6, the lady here has already entered the palace as an imperial consort, and the young man is conducting an illicit liaison with her. The story of Prince Genji and his father’s young wife, Fujitsubo (i.e. Genji’s stepmother), at the beginning of The Tale of Genji is thought to be based on this account.
At the time of the tale, the adolescent sons of the nobility who had yet to celebrate their coming of age served as pages inside the palace in a kind of courtier apprenticeship. Narihira, the young man in this tale, was probably one of them. Because of their youth, pages had free access to the inner quarters of the palace where the women resided.
When the lady chastises him, he recites his first poem, a passionate statement of his love. Then when the lady retires to her private quarters, the young man follows her there. At a loss, the lady returns to her parental home, but still he pursues her. The next morning, he returns to his service in the Privy Chamber, after throwing his shoes deep inside the room where footwear was kept. By doing so, he tries to create the impression that he has been on night-watch duty in the palace all the time, as latecomers would leave their shoes near the entrance. However, people already know of his escapades and laugh at his antics.
Eventually, the young man realizes that his behaviour could ruin his life and so appeals to the ‘buddhas and the gods’ to rid him of his feelings for the lady. He summons yin-yang diviners and female shamans and has a purification ritual performed on the banks of a river. The diviners were employees of the Bureau of Divination who specialized in astronomical observations, calendar-making and divination. The shamans were ritualists who served the native deities, what today are called miko, that is, young women who work as shrine attendants. However, the purification has no effect, and his love for the lady grows ever greater.
The second poem laments that the gods have not answered his prayer to rid him of his love. The ‘cleansing waters’ refer to the river where the purification ritual was performed. During the Heian period most people tended to use the Kamo River (see Map 3) for such rites, which was often referred to as the River of Purification (mitarashigawa). A poem with almost identical wording is found in the Kokinshū (no. 501). Both versions of the poem mention the ‘rites of purification’; it is the narrative in the Tales version that supplies the details of diviners and specialists actually being summoned. Such an unlikely story of rituals being performed to fall out of love would have amused readers.
Eventually, the emperor learns of the liaison and exiles the young man. The lady is punished and confined inside a storehouse belonging to the emperor’s mother in a rather melodramatic scene, of which there are several in the Tales. In the third poem, the lady blames herself for what has happened: the first two lines of the poem (translated as ‘a skeleton shrimp / in seaweed gathered by fisherfolk’) act as a preface (jokotaba) for ware kara (my own fault), punning on warekara (skeleton shrimp). The poem in Episode 57 makes use of the same image. The succeeding poems relate the sad situation of the separated lovers; the fifth, in which the hero sings of his love, also appears in the Kokinshū (no. 620) and is included without change here.
Empress Mother: The mother of the emperor is referred to here by the title Ōmiyasundokoro (literally, ‘great resting place’). At the end of the episode, she is identified as either the Somedono Empress or the Empress of the Fifth Avenue.
forbidden colours: These refer to colours that only people of special rank, or those with permission to do so, could wear. Since the lady was a favourite of the emperor, she would have been allowed to wear deep red and purple.
Privy Chamber of the palace: A chamber of the Seiryoden, the emperor’s living quarters within the imperial palace.
Mizunoo Emperor: In the original text, the narrator refers to the Emperor Seiwa by his posthumous name, Mizunoo, which derives from the location of his mausoleum, in the north-western part of Kyoto. It was customary to avoid mentioning the actual names of emperors and members of the high nobility. As a result, they were often referred to by the name of the place where they lived or had been buried. The Somedono Empress and the Empress of the Fifth Avenue are other examples.
66
The Sea of Life
Episodes 66, 67 and 68 are all set along the shores of Osaka Bay (see Map 2), and feature beautiful poems on the local scenery. The province of Settsu includes the present-day Osaka City and Hyogo Prefecture. Naniwa includes the present-day cities of Osaka and Amagasaki. Narihira is accompanied by his brothers and some friends to Naniwa, where, watching the ships, he composes a poem. The poem uses the puns (kakekotoba) mitsu (‘saw’ and ‘Mitsu Harbour’) and umi wataru (‘crossing the sea’ and ‘sorrow-filled’) to link ship-watching with weariness of life. Though it was customary on such occasions for the others present to compose poems themselves, the final sentence relates that they thought the poem so excellent that they declined to compose poems and simply return home. Similar accounts are found in Episodes 68 and 87, among others.
Katagiri has put forward an interesting theory according to which the poems in this and the following two episodes are linked by images that convey the hero’s loneliness and melancholy. Here, the ‘sea of life’ is ‘sorrow-filled’ (umi wataru); in Episode 67, the clouds either do not wish to share the ‘woods in snow blossom’, described as sad (ushi) in the Japanese, or think the very act of sharing would be sad; and in Episode 68, ‘but by the sea in spring’ can be interpreted as a pun on ‘spring sadness’. Sumiyoshi is thus a place for feelings of loss and despair to be healed. Though not all will agree with Katagiri, his interpretation is very much in keeping with the spirit of the Tales, which places such importance on wordplay.
67
Snow Blossom
On his way to the province of Izumi, the hero sees Mount Ikoma in the province of Kawachi (see Map 2) and composes a poem comparing the snow that covers the woods to blossoms. As in the previous and following episodes, Narihira is accompanied by trusted friends and again only he recites a poem; his friends decline to compose their own poems in deference to the hero’s splendid one. The poem, in describing one thing in terms of another, provides an example of mitate (elegant confusion), though the term itself was not coined until the Edo period (1603–1868).
mid spring: A reference to the second month of the lunisolar calendar.
an outing: The word ‘outing’ (shōyō) implies rambling, far from the concerns of the everyday world.
the billowing clouds / hid this sight from view: In the poem, the grammatical subject of ‘hid’ (kakurou) is difficult to understand. Some argue that it is Mount Ikoma that hides the view, but according to Yamamoto, it is in fact clouds that hide the mountain, and this is the way I have translated it.
68
The Place to Dwell
Episode 68 features an exquisite poem that plays on the place name ‘Sumiyoshi’. The ancient district of Sumiyoshi, where the Sumiyoshi Shrine is located (see Map 2), is roughly equivalent to the present-day Sumiyoshi Ward in Osaka city. The hero presumably stops there on his way to Izumi, described in Episode 67. The word ‘Sumiyoshi’ is repeated three times in the short introductory passage (Sumiyoshi no kōri, Sumiyoshi no sato, Sumiyoshi no hama), as if to reinforce the sentiment of the poem that Sumiyoshi ‘is the place to dwell’. (In the Japanese, each phrase includes no, followed by a disyllabic word, adding to the rythmic effect.) The rest of t
he episode describes the hero admiring the scene.
The poem focuses on the Sumiyoshi shore and compares its beauty in spring and autumn. The ‘wild geese’ and the ‘chrysanthemums’ in the first two lines exemplify autumn. The place name ‘Sumiyoshi’ is a pun (kakekotoba) on sumi yoshi (a nice place to dwell). It was unconventional to begin a spring poem with autumnal motifs, and the choice would have pleasantly surprised the listeners. (For Katagiri’s interpretation of the themes in this poem, see the commentary to Episode 66.) As in the two preceding episodes, the other travellers are so moved by the poem that they decline to compose their own.
69
Was It Real, or Just a Dream?
Episode 69 is deservedly one of the most famous and loved of the Tales and a possible source for the title The Tales of Ise (see below).
The hero travels to Ise as an imperial huntsman. There, he falls in love with the Priestess of Ise – also known, after her place of residence, as the saigū (literally, ‘abstinence palace’) – and spends a single night with her. Imperial huntsmen were dispatched around the country at the emperor’s command to hunt birds and other game to be served at banquets. Hawking is also mentioned in Episode 1. The position of imperial huntsman was abolished in 905, and there is nothing in any historical record to suggest that Narihira himself ever held such a position. The Priestess of Ise was chosen from among unmarried female members of the imperial family and served at the Inner Shrine at Ise (see Map 2). As a rule, her tenure lasted the length of the emperor’s reign.
Because the Priestess of Ise served the Ise deity, it was a rule that she must remain a virgin and love affairs were strictly taboo; saigū could be dismissed from office if their liaisons were discovered. Here, despite the danger, the priestess responds to the hero’s advances, making this episode a truly memorable tale of forbidden love.
In the Japanese, the time given for the clandestine encounter arranged between the hero and the priestess is the first quarter of the hour of the rat (ne hitotsu): ne was the ‘hour of the rat’ (between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m.), and hitotsu is the first quarter of this period. Similarly, ushi mittsu (hour of the ox, third quarter) refers to the third quarter of the two-hour period between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m. Thus the two spend a period of approximately three hours together before the priestess returns to her rooms.
Did they consummate their relationship? The question has generated much controversy since ancient times. One way of reading the text is that they were so busy making love that they had no time to talk; an alternative is to assume that they were too bashful for physical love and sat gazing at each other for the entire time. Medieval commentators had a third view: the affairs of members of the imperial family were not an appropriate topic for discussion so what truly happened was of no concern to the reader. Even so, it tended to be assumed at the time that Narihira and the priestess made love. The key to the ambiguity in the scene is the use of the word monogatarau. Several episodes use this word, which can mean both simple ‘conversation’ and, in certain contexts, the talk after lovemaking, or even being intimate together.
The rest of the episode examines the couple’s brief but intense affair. The hero, filled with melancholy, cannot sleep, and the following morning, he wishes to communicate somehow with the priestess. Because any liaison with the saigū was forbidden, however, he cannot act in a way that might arouse suspicion. Then a poem arrives from the priestess, though it was more usual for a man to send his lover a ‘morning-after’ poem (kinuginu no uta).
The first poem takes the form of a series of questions, a device widely used in Chinese poetry, such as by Bai Juyi (see here), whose influence this poem is thought to reflect. Indeed, the section from the beginning of the episode to the end of the second poem is thought to have been composed by Narihira as a story of forbidden love based on the Chinese work Yingying zhuan, whose author, Yuan Zhen (see here), was a friend of Bai Juyi. The scene of the priestess appearing in the man’s room bathed in moonlight, for example, closely resembles one in the Chinese work. Unlike Episode 69, however, there is no doubt in Yingying zhuan that the two lovers enjoyed conjugal relations.
If the first encounter was difficult to arrange, continuing the affair proves even more so because the hero has official duties and cannot act freely. During the day, he goes out hunting, and in the evening he is entertained by the governor of Ise, who was also the director of the Saigūryō, the bureau in charge of the office of the Priestess of Ise. High officials from the capital had to be well entertained when they travelled to the provinces, and so the party for the imperial huntsman continues until morning. Because the hero has to leave for Owari Province (see also Episode 7) the same day, he cannot meet the priestess again.
The priestess leaves the first part of a poem written inside a sake cup, so that only the hero would see it. The poem expresses her regret that their relationship has been so shallow. The word e (river) in line three of the Japanese is a pun (kakekotoba), which when read with the first letter of ni creates en (connection), the sense translated here as ‘what was between us’. The exact meaning of the phrase sakazuki no sara (literally, ‘sake plate’) is unclear: it may refer to the sake cup itself or to the plate upon which the cup was placed. Because the sake ‘cups’ used at banquets at this time were flattish, unglazed earthenware bowls, the expression may well be a way of referring to the drinking vessel.
The tale in this episode is almost certainly fictional. However, the same poem and reply are included in the Kokinshū (nos. 645 and 646) – the second attributed to Narihira – with a headnote that could be interpreted to mean that Narihira’s partner could have been either the Priestess of Ise herself or a handmaiden. Its incorporation in the Tales eventually resulted in acceptance of the liaison as fact. A number of points, however, suggest otherwise. The first poem, attributed to the priestess, employs rhetorical features more characteristic of Narihira (alternative questions, inversion). We also know that the post of imperial huntsman did not exist at the time of Seiwa (the Mizunoo Emperor – see below) and that the priestess at that point (Princess Yasuko – see below) was not dismissed but completed her full term of office. That the facticity is left open to interpretation seems to be quite deliberate and adds to the richness of the narrative.
imperial huntsman: A version of the Tales referred to as the ‘Kari no Tsukai’ (Imperial Huntsman) manuscript, no longer extant, began with this episode. Some scholars consider this the main reason for the present title of the work, The Tales of Ise.
flood of tears … tears of blood: See otoko naki (crying of men) and chi no namida (tears of blood).
the Meeting Barrier: This was the border post and checkpoint at Mount Osaka (literally, ‘meeting hill’; Aūsaka yama in the ancient spelling), between the capital (Heiankyo/Kyoto) and Lake Biwa (see Map 2). It was frequently used as a pun for a lovers’ meeting. Here, too, ‘cross[ing] the Meeting Barrier’ is the hero’s pledge to meet the priestess again one day.
Mizunoo Emperor: A reference to Emperor Seiwa (see also Episode 65).
70
Sea-Tangle
Episode 70 may be read as a continuation of Episode 69. Oyodo (see Map 2) is in the district of Take in present-day Mie Prefecture. It was important as a harbour, as it was connected to the residence of the Priestess of Ise by a river, suggesting that people could have travelled between the Ise Shrine and the residence by boat. Today, the place is called Oizu. In Episode 69, the hero leaves the palace of the priestess to travel to Owari, and it is generally assumed that he would have taken a boat from Oyodo. As noted in Episode 69, both the building that served as the main residence of the Priestess of Ise and the priestess herself were known as saigū. The saigū was not adjacent to the shrines in Yamada but some six miles to the north-west, near Ise Bay. The female attendant in this episode brings to mind the ‘little girl’ of Episode 69.
In the poem, several puns (kakekotoba) are used, including mirume (which puns on ‘seaweed’ and ‘eyes that see’, i.e. ‘to meet’) and
kata (which means both ‘direction’ and ‘method’). The poem appears to be asking where seaweed might be found, but what the hero is really asking is how he can meet his beloved. The phrase mirume karu (meaning the ‘meeting’ of lovers and ‘to gather seaweed’) was a standard expression in the poetry of the time and appears several times in the Tales (Episodes 25, 75 and miru in 104). In the translation, I have replicated the puns with the words ‘see-tangle’ for ‘sea-tangle’ – the actual name of a type of seaweed – and ‘sea-we’d’, which puns on ‘seaweed.’
71
Traversing the Sacred Fence
Episode 71 features a poem by the hero that expresses the open-minded attitude towards love in pre-modern Japan. Like Episodes 69 and 70, it concerns the Priestess of Ise. However, in this episode a flirtatious lady expresses her own love for the man, rather than that of the Priestess of Ise, on whose behalf she is supposed to be speaking.
In the first poem, the lady expresses her yearning for the hero’s love. The word Chihayaburu, translated here as ‘raging’, is a pillow word (makura kotoba) for kami (deity). The ‘sacred fence’ encircled a shrine, enclosing the holy area and sealing it from ‘pollution’ from the secular world. The first three lines of the poem appear in poems in the Man’yōshū (no. 2663) and in the Shūishū (no. 924), but with different final sections.
The second poem is the hero’s reply, in which he welcomes the lady’s profession of love. It skilfully and humorously asserts that even raging gods never stand in the way of love, thus echoing the lady’s original image of fiercesome gods in order to gain her. The word ‘rail’ (in ‘rail against’) puns on the ‘fence’ of the first poem. In Japanese myth, many gods were born of the union of male and female deities, and sexual union and fertility have traditionally played an important role in both mythology and the Shinto religion, which has a very open-minded view of sex. Part of this poem is quoted in the last chapter in The Tale of Genji.