by Donald Keene
At the end of the episode, the narrator humorously asks whether the final poem was a good one for a ‘country dweller’. His direct address to the reader recalls the question asked by the narrator at the end of Episode 33. Here he suggests that since the woman presented the seaweed, she too wrote the poem, although it is more likely that the host did so and, like the poem in Episode 33, it is very accomplished.
Imperial Guard: There were six guard units attached to the imperial palace (the Left and Right divisions of the Inner, Middle and Outer Imperial Guard), and the ‘junior officers’ employed therein were assistants to the commanders. Before he retired to Ashiya, Narihira had also served as a captain in the guards.
Nunobiki Waterfall: The Nunobiki Falls are a renowned series of waterfalls in the mountains east of Kobe. The name ‘Nunobiki’ (literally, ‘cloth-pulling’) likens the cascades to cloth being stretched out to be bleached.
Mochiyoshi, the late head of the Imperial Household: Nothing further is known about Mochiyoshi. His name is given without honorifics, however, so he must have been well known to readers of the time.
88
The Rounds of the Moon
The Kokinshū includes thirty-three poems that feature the moon, but no. 879, which is also included in this episode – without a headnote but attributed to Narihira – is one of the freshest and most original. While many poems praise the beauty of the moon, this one opens with the assertion that the poet does not normally enjoy looking at it – a startling admission to a group of people gathered specifically for the purpose of admiring the moon. But though the poem begins with a surprise, it develops into something more profound. The word ‘moon’ (tsuki) forms a pun with with toshi-tsuki (literally, ‘the passage of the months’) to express regret at the passing of the years.
This witty but lyrical rendering of ever-encroaching old age would surely have earned the praise of those assembled there. Narihira is likely to have been influenced here by the poetry of Bai Juyi (see here), who wrote that when he looked at the moon he thought about the past, which brought to mind dissipation and the advent of old age. Narihira’s audience would have picked up this reference to Bai Juyi. During the Heian period, looking at the moon was often thought to be inauspicious and thus avoided, and this famous poem may have been the reason why.
89
Which God Would They Blame?
Episode 89 features a poem on the difficulty of conducting a romance when there is a gap in social rank. In Episode 89, the hero is referred to as ‘a man not of low rank himself’ (iyashikaranu otoko), but Katagiri has drawn attention to the use of the term iyashi (lower social status), employed in a way that illustrates what must have been a very real issue at the time: before Takaiko became Empress of the Second Avenue, she was actually of lower rank than the hero, Narihira, as the grandson of two emperors. However, after she became a consort of Emperor Seiwa, her rank would have been too high for him to meet her. While the poem suggests blaming this state of affairs on the gods, the problem is of course entirely man-made.
Many similar poems appear in the Man’yōshu, making it very likely that this episode was constructed around one of these.
90
By Tomorrow …
Episode 90 features a poem that compares the capriciousness of the lady to whom it is addressed to short-lived cherry blossoms. The lady has finally agreed to meet the hero from behind a screen; meeting with a lady who is behind a screen or curtain represented a step further in a relationship after the initial exchange of letters (see here), because the two could converse directly. Being unsure of her feelings, he sends her a poem in which he asks whether her love will fade as quickly as the blossoms do. The evanescent cherry blossom was commonly employed as a metaphor for inconstancy. Other examples appear in Episodes 17 and 50.
The final comment by the narrator is unusual in the way in which it clearly expresses sympathy for the predicament of the hero.
91
The Last Day of Spring
The Tales contains many fine poems on the four seasons, and Episode 91 includes an exemplary poem on the last day of spring (sangatsujin); see also Episode 80. The poem mourns both the end of the beautiful season of spring and the relentless passing of life. It appears in much the same form in the Gosenshū (no. 141), and this episode was probably created around it. The cause of the hero’s unhappiness is not made clear here, but at the time it was one of the requirements of the ideal man to express a weariness of the world and a desire to take Buddhist orders. Prince Genji, the hero of The Tale of Genji, is a good case in point.
92
Hidden by Reeds
Episode 92 features a charming poem based on the metaphor of a small boat. Unable even to send a letter to the lady he loves, much less meet her, the hero returns home and writes a poem, comparing himself to a ‘little boat / rowing back and forth’ to no avail. The situation described is similar to that in Episodes 4 and 65, in that it speaks of the man’s disappointment over his love for an unattainable lady. Here the Empress of the Second Avenue is not mentioned explicitly, but the structural similarities between the stories suggest a connection.
The first two lines of the poem are found in a poem in the Kokinshū (no. 732), which compares the poet to a ‘small boat without side boards’ travelling to a lady’s house. Because most contemporary readers would immediately recognize the familiar lines, this episode was probably composed in reference to that poem.
93
Love Between the Ranks
Episode 93 is another example of a tale of the hero’s love for a woman of higher rank. Other examples include Episodes 4 and 5, where the lady beyond the hero’s reach is the Empress of the Second Avenue, and Episodes 69 and 73, where she is the Priestess of Ise.
The phrase ‘rank beyond comparison’ is a translation of ninaki, which describes a lady of the very highest rank. Though it is not stated directly, the implication is that she is the Empress of the Second Avenue. It is difficult to interpret the meaning of the words ōna-ōna at the beginning of the poem, but they are usually taken to mean ‘according to one’s position’.
The same poem also appears in the late tenth-century Kokin waka rokujō (Six Volumes of Waka Old and New; no. 3114).
94
Autumn Leaves and Spring Blossoms
Episode 94 depicts a female painter, which would have been a highly unusual subject for a story at the time; she is also remarkably detached and balanced in her attitude towards affairs of the heart. The hero parts ways with a lady who has borne him a child, though he is still in contact with her; he requests that she paint a picture for him, but as her current husband is present, the lady puts off doing the painting. The hero then sends her a sarcastic poem to criticize her failure to comply with his request, to which she replies.
In his poem, the hero likens the time he spent with the lady to the mists of spring and that with the new husband to the fogs of autumn. Meteorologically speaking, there is little difference between a mist and a fog, but since the Heian period the former has always been associated with spring and the latter with autumn. In her reply, the lady initially flatters her former husband, saying he is superior to the present one, but in the final part of the poem she likens the two men to autumn leaves and spring blossoms; both fall and scatter, suggesting that all men are the same and, whether leaf or blossom, they will leave her.
This poem appears in almost the same form in the late tenth-century Kokin waka rokujō (Six Volumes of Waka Old and New; no. 2875).
95
The Herd Boy’s Star
Episode 95 is typical of the poem-tale (uta monogatari) genre. With reference to a well-known legend of ill-fated love, it contains a delightful balance of passion and humour, replacing an image of frustrated love with one of sexual gratification. The hero begs a lady to meet him, even if separated by a screen (see also Episode 90). He composes a poem while they converse (monogatari nado shite), and the lady is so moved by it that she permits him to push away the screen
and pass the night in her company.
In his poem, the hero compares himself to the Herd Boy and the lady to the Weaving Maid of the Tanabata legend (see Episodes 59 and 82). In order to meet, the lovers must cross the Milky Way, and the image is humorously deployed in the poem, giving comic exaggeration to the minuscule distance presented by the screen in comparison with that of the Milky Way.
96
Boils and Curses
There are a handful of rather melodramatic episodes in the Tales, constituting an important component in the overall structure of the work, and this is one of them. (Episodes 6 and 24 are other examples.) Though clearly unrealistic, and written in an exaggerated style, this episode conveys all too well the desperation of love. A lady who has promised to meet her suitor in the autumn is taken away by her brother. She tells the hero what has happened in a poem, and the hero places a curse on her.
The poem, asserting that their relationship was fated to be shallow, is written on a maple leaf: just as the falling leaves fill the stream and make it shallow, so was their relationship. The word e (stream) is a pun (kakekotoba), which when read with the first letter of the particle ni creates en (bond/relationship), the sense translated here as ‘what was between us’.
In the final paragraph, the usual wry scepticism of the narrator comes through – ‘What a macabre thing to do! Do curses really affect those cursed?’ – counterbalancing the melodrama of the tale.
neither wood nor stone: This expression derives from lines of a poem by Bai Juyi (see here) in his Baishi wenji (Collected Works of Bai Juyi): ‘Men are not made of wood or stone; they all have feelings.’
around the middle of the last month of summer: Literally, ‘the middle of the sixth month’ in the lunisolar calendar, this was the hottest time of the year.
To this day: What makes the narrator’s comment here unusual is that it establishes a gap in time between the past and the present, as ima koso wa mime means ‘we will find out in the near future’, the only such instance in the Tales.
her suitor, gesturing with his hands, made a curse: The curse was made using a specific hand gesture (ama no sakate o utsu; literally, ‘heavenly reverse hand-clapping’). What exactly this means is unknown; the expression is also found in the Kojiki (see here), where it is described simply as a gesture made to curse a person.
97
Old Age, Don’t Come!
The main feature of Episode 97 is a wonderful poem based on the personification of old age. It is a celebratory poem composed by the hero (an ‘elderly captain’ – see the commentary to Episode 87) on the occasion of the fortieth birthday of Fujiwara no Mototsune, referred to here as the ‘Horikawa minister’, who was at the centre of court affairs for much of the ninth century. Mototsune also appears in Episode 6. His biological father was Fujiwara Nagara, but he was adopted by Fujiwara no Yoshifusa, the head of the Fujiwara clan, in the mid ninth century. He became Minister of the Right in 872 and chancellor in 880. His main residence was in Horikawa, hence the name. In this episode, as in Episode 81 and others, the hero is depicted as an elderly man (okina). Like other episodes of this kind, this one features a celebratory banquet.
Celebratory poems generally mention things that never change, employing symbols of youth and longevity, such as cranes, turtles, the pine and bamboo. This one, however, is unusual in that it refers to falling cherry blossoms, symbols of impermanence and hence death/decay, showing once more Narihira’s originality as a poet as it defied convention to use, in such a context, words with negative or opposing connotations. Here, cherry blossoms in the act of scattering impede the onset of old age, which itself marks the beginning of the process that leads to death/decay. Two negative images are brought together to create a positive, hence celebratory, one of great longevity. The effect of this paradoxical pairing is powerful and actually enhances the theme. Old age is personified in some poems in the Kokinshū and other works, but such examples are few.
This poem appears in the Kokinshū (no. 349), and this episode seems to have been built around it. Certain versions of the Kokinshū attribute the poem to Narihira’s elder brother Yukihira, though in all probability Narihira was the author.
98
Blooms of Devotion
Episode 98 is another tale on the theme of fealty and devotion. In this case, the retainer presents a poem on his devotion, along with a pheasant attached to a sprig of artificial plum flowers, and receives a reward for it. The chancellor in question is thought to be Fujiwara no Yoshifusa, Mototsune’s adoptive father. He became chancellor in 857, in the second month of the lunisolar calendar, and retained that position until his death in 872 at the age of sixty-nine. It was a custom of the time to give presents with a sprig of a plant attached.
This poem praises the ever-blooming and unchanging artificial plum blossoms as a metaphor for the continued glory and prosperity of the chancellor. But, in addition to the flowers, the poem also includes a hidden word (mono no na no uta). The word for ‘pheasant’ (kiji) is hidden inside the verse toki shimo. Ancient kana orthography (see Appendix 4, here) does not distinguish between voiced and unvoiced consonants, so kishi may be read as either kishi or kiji. Typical of the kind of wordplay that permeates the Tales, this also shows how gifts could be chosen to enhance poetic expression. The translation of the poem also contains hidden within the poem the letters for ‘pheasant’, shown in bold type.
This poem is included in the Kokinshū (no. 866), as an anonymous poem on an unknown topic. A note appended to the poem reads: ‘Some say it was written by the former minister’, i.e. Fujiwara no Yoshifusa. However, Katagiri argues that the poem is unlikely to have been written by such an individual and that the author would have been someone else, though Yoshifusa may have been the recipient of the poem.
99
A Glimpse or Not
Episode 99 depicts an exchange between the hero, Narihira, and a lady of whom he has caught but the slightest glimpse at an archery meet for the guards of the Right (whose duty was to protect the palace). The meet was held on the sixth day of the fifth month to demonstrate the men’s skills at mounted archery. It attracted many spectators. Ladies would remain inside their ox-drawn carriages, hidden behind long silk curtains hanging inside a bamboo screen. The man catches a glimpse (see kaimami) of the lady’s face through the curtain of the carriage pulled up next to his. Narihira is introduced here, as is often the case, by his title, ‘captain’, which designates him as second in command of the Inner Imperial Guard (see the commentary to Episode 87).
The first poem is unusual because of its subject matter – the hero questioning whether or not he saw the lady. The second poem is an invitation by the lady, telling him to let his feelings, not what he sees, be his guide. Her positive attitude towards love is typical of the Tales. The word omoi (spelled omohi at the time) was commonly used as a metaphor for the burning ‘fire’ of love.
The two poems are included in the Kokinshū (nos. 476 and 477) with a headnote similar to the opening section here. Whether they appeared first in the Kokinshū or in the Tales is unclear. A similar story also appears as part of Episode 166 in the Yamato monogatari.
100
Longing-Grass
Episode 100 is based on a play on symbols of remembering and forgetting. The hero is handed a sprig of ‘forgetting-grass’ from within the room of a high-ranking lady as he passes through the Koryoden Pavilion in the palace and replies with a poem. The Koryoden was located west of the Seiryoden, the emperor’s own residential quarters, and imperial consorts lived there. Narihira was probably passing along a kind of gallery connecting the two buildings. The lady, asking him if he was misidentifying ‘forgetting-grass’ as ‘longing-grass’, is really asking: ‘Are you pretending to yearn for me, even though you have forgotten me?’ In reply, the hero asserts that he is in fact a longing-grass and longs for her always.
Episode 162 in the Yamato monogatari is similar to this one but has a simplified and more streamlined narrative structure. Altho
ugh in the Yamato version the same plant is known both as ‘forgetting-grass’ and ‘longing-grass’, they are in fact different plants (see wasuregusa (forgetting-grass) and shinobugusa (longing-grass)).
It is possible that the episode was written with the historical figures of the empress and Narihira in mind. The Empress of the Second Avenue was selected to participate in the Gosechi dance when she was a fifth-ranking lady of the chamber. This post usually meant that she would also become one of the lower-ranking imperial consorts in the service of the emperor. This would also mean that she most likely resided in the Koryoden until she became empress in 866.
101
Glorious Wisteria
The poem in Episode 101 is ostensibly a song of praise, but it harbours within it a veiled criticism. Narihira’s elder brother, Ariwara no Yukihira, holds a party at his home in honour of the Middle Controller of the Left Fujiwara no Masachika. Narihira composes a poem about the wisteria spray displayed, praising the Fujiwara clan (Fujiwara puns with fuji, ‘wisteria’; see also Episode 80). The shelter afforded by the wisteria bloom alludes to the splendour and might of the Fujiwara family. The lines ‘Its bountiful shade / reaches further than ever’ suggest that its power and authority are now greater than ever before. Though the poem eulogizes the glory of the Fujiwara clan and expresses gratitude for its patronage, there is implicit criticism of a power that keeps on spreading, like the shade of the wisteria, which is what prompts the questioning of those present.