Japanese Literature Part 31

Though too well-known to all may be The lovely sh.o.r.e of Ise's sea; Its aged fisher's honored name, A tribute of respect may claim."

There were several more rolls to be exhibited, and the rival protestations on both sides became very warm, so that one roll occasioned considerable discussion.

While this was going on, Genji arrived on the scene. He suggested to them that if there was any compet.i.tion at all it should be decided on a specially appointed day, in a more solemn manner, in the presence of the Emperor. This suggestion having been adopted, the discussion came to an end.

The day for this purpose was fixed. The ex-Emperor, who had been informed of this, presented several pictures to the lady of the plum-chamber. They were mostly ill.u.s.trations of Court Festivals, on which there were explanatory remarks written by the Emperor Yenghi.

Besides these, there was one which had been expressly executed at his own order by Kim-mochi. This was an ill.u.s.tration of the ceremony which took place at his palace on the departure of the lady for Ise, some time back, when she had gone there as the Saigu. It was also probable that some of his pictures came into the possession of her rival, the Lady Kokiden, through his mother (as the mother of the former was a sister of the latter).

When the day arrived every arrangement was made in the large saloon at the rear of the Palace, where the Imperial seat was placed at the top.

The Court ladies of both parties--those of the lady of the plum-chamber, and those of the lady of Kokiden--were arranged respectively left and right, the left, or those of the lady of the plum-chamber, facing southwards, and those of the right, northwards.

All the courtiers also took the places allotted to them. Here the pictures were brought. The box, containing those of the left was of purple Azedarach. The stand on which the box was placed was of safran, and over this was thrown a cover of Chinese brocade with a mauve ground. The seat underneath was of Chinese colored silk. Six young girls brought all this in, and arranged it all in order. Their Kazami (outer dress) was of red and cherry color, with tunics of Wistaria lining (light purple outside, and light green within).

The box which contained the pictures of the right was of "Jin" wood, the stand of light colored "Jin," the cover of Corean silk with a green ground. The legs of the stand, which were trellised round with a silken cord, showed modern and artistic taste. The Kazami of the young girls was of willow lining (white outside and green within), and their tunics were of Kerria j.a.ponica lining (or yellow outside and light red within). Both Genji and Gon-Chiunagon were present, by the Emperor's special invitation, as also the Prince Lord-Lieutenant of Tzkushi who loved pictures above all things, and he was consequently chosen umpire for this day's compet.i.tion. Many of the pictures were highly admirable, and it was most difficult to make any preference between them. For instance, if there was produced by one party a roll of "The Season," which was the masterpiece of some old master, on selected subjects; there was produced also, by the other party, a roll of sketches on paper, which were scarcely inferior to, and more ornamented with flourishing than the ancient works, in spite of the necessary limitation of s.p.a.ce which generally makes the wide expanse of scenery almost too difficult to express. Thus the disputes on both sides were very warm.

Meanwhile the Imperial-mother (the Princess Wistaria) also came into the saloon, pushing aside the sliding screen of the breakfast chamber.

The criticisms still continued, in which Genji made, now and then, suggestive remarks. Before all was finished the shades of evening began to fall on them. There remained, on the right, one more roll, when the roll of "Suma" was produced on the left. It made Gon-Chiunagon slightly embarra.s.sed. The last roll of the right was, of course, a selected one, but it had several disadvantages in comparison with that of "Suma." The sketches on this roll had been done by Genji, with great pains and time. They were ill.u.s.trations of different bays and sh.o.r.es. They were most skilfully executed, and carried away the minds of the spectators to the actual spots. On them ill.u.s.trative remarks were written, sometimes in the shape of a diary, occasionally mingled with poetical effusions in style both grave and easy. These made a great impression on the Emperor, and on everyone present; and finally, owing to this roll, the left was decided to have won the victory.

Then followed the partaking of refreshments, as was usual on such occasions. In the course of conversation, Genji remarked to the Lord-Lieutenant, "From my boyhood I paid much attention to reading and writing, and perhaps my father noticed that I had benefited by these pursuits. He observed that 'few very clever men enjoyed worldly happiness and long life'; perhaps because ability and knowledge are too highly valued in the world to admit of other blessings. True it is, that even a man whose high birth a.s.sures him a certain success in life, ought not to be devoid of learning, but I advise you to moderate your exertions. After this time, he took more pains in instructing me in the ways and manners of men of high position than in the minute details of science. For these reasons, though on the one hand I was not quite clumsy, I cannot, on the other, say in what particular subject I am well versed and efficient. Drawing, however, was a favorite object of my taste and ambition, and I also desired to execute a work to the full extent of my ideas. In the meantime, I enjoyed quiet leisure by the sea-sh.o.r.e, and as I contemplated the wide expanse of scenery, my conception seemed to enlarge as I gazed upon it. This made me take up my brush, but not a few parts of the work have fallen short of those conceptions. Therefore, I thought them altogether unworthy to be shown expressly, though I have now boldly submitted them to your inspection on this good opportunity."

"Nothing can be well learned that is not agreeable to one's natural taste," replied the Lord-Lieutenant. "It is true, but every art has its special instructor, and by this means their methods can be copied by their pupils, though there may be differences in skill and perfection. Among arts, however, nothing betrays one's tastes and nature more than work of pen or brush (writing and painting), and playing the game of Go. Of course men of low origin, and of little accomplishment, often happen to excel in these arts, but not so frequently as persons of position. Under the auspicious care of the late Emperor, what prince or princess could have failed to attain the knowledge of such arts? a care which was directed towards yourself especially. I will not speak of literature and learning too. Your accomplishments comprised the _kin_, next the flute, the mandolin, and _soh-koto_--this we all knew, and so, too, the late Emperor said: your painting, however, has been hitherto thought to be mere amus.e.m.e.nt, but we now have seen your sketches executed with a skill not unequal to the ancient famous draughtsmen in black ink."

It was about the twentieth of the month, and the evening moon appeared in the sky, while they were thus conversing. Her radiance was too weak to make the ground near them bright, but afar-off the sky became palely white. Several musical instruments were sent for from the guardian of the library. Genji played a _kin_, Gon-Chiunagon a _wagon_, the Lord-Lieutenant a _soh-koto_, and Shioshio-no-Miobu a mandolin. The _hioshi_ (beating time to music) was undertaken by a courtier. As this went on, the darkness of night began to diminish, and the hues of the flowers in the garden, and the countenance of each of the party, became gradually visible, while the birds themselves began to chirp in the trees. It was a pleasant dawn. Several presents were made to the company by the Imperial-mother, and to the Lord-Lieutenant a robe was given in addition, as an acknowledgment of his services as judge in the compet.i.tion. And so the party broke up.

The roll of "Suma" was left, as was requested, in the hands of the Imperial-mother. Genji had some more rolls of the same series, but they were reserved for some future occasion.

During the reign of this Emperor every care was taken on the occasion of all Court Festivals, so that future generations should hold that such and such precedents took their origin in this reign. Hence a meeting even such as above described, which was only private in its nature, was carried out in a manner as pleasant and enlightened as possible.

As to Genji, he thought he had obtained a position too exalted, and an influence too great. There were, indeed, several instances of public men surprised by misfortune, who, in premature age, obtained high position and vast influence. He thought of these examples, and though he had hitherto enjoyed his position and authority, as if he regarded them as a compensation for his former fall, he began, as the Emperor was now becoming older, to retire gradually from public life, so as to prepare his mind and thoughts, and devote himself to the attainment of happiness in the world to come, and also for the prolongation of life.

For these reasons he ordered a chapel to be built for himself on a mountain side, where he might retire. In the meantime he had the ambition to see his children satisfactorily brought out into the world--an ambition which restrained him from carrying out his wishes of retiring.

It is not easy to understand or define the exact state of his mind at this period.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 125: A short romance, supposed to be the oldest work of the kind ever written in j.a.pan, as the auth.o.r.ess states. The story is, that once upon a time there was an aged man whose occupation was to cut bamboo. One day he found a knot in a bamboo cane which was radiant and shining, and upon cutting it he found in it a little girl who was named Kakya-hime. He took her home and brought her up. She grew a remarkable beauty. She had many suitors, but she refused to listen to their addresses, and kept her maiden reputation unsullied. Finally, in leaving this world, she ascended into the moon, from which she professed to have originally come down.]

[Footnote 126: This is another old romance, and Toshikage is its princ.i.p.al hero. When twelve or thirteen years of age he was sent to China, but the ship in which he was, being driven by a hurricane to Persia, he met there with a mystic stranger, from whom he learned secrets of the "Kin;" from thence he reached China, and afterwards returned to j.a.pan.]

[Footnote 127: This man was one of the maiden's suitors. He was told by her that if he could get for her the skin of the fire-proof rat she might possibly accept his hand. With this object he gave a vast sum of money to a Chinese merchant, who brought him what he professed to be the skin of the fire-proof rat, but when it was put to the test, it burnt away, and he lost his suit.]

[Footnote 128: This Prince was another suitor of the maiden. His task was to find a sacred island called Horai, and to get a branch of a jewelled tree which grew in this island. He pretended to have embarked for this purpose, but really concealed himself in an obscure place. He had an artificial branch made by some goldsmith; but, of course, this deception was at once detected.]

[Footnote 129: j.a.panese pictures usually have explanatory notes written on them.]

[Footnote 130: It seems that this stanza alludes to some incident in the Shio-Sammi, at the same time praising the picture.]

[Footnote 131: This seems to be the name of the hero in the story alluded to above.]

CLa.s.sICAL POETRY OF j.a.pAN

[_Selections translated by Basil Hall Chamberlain_]

INTRODUCTION

The poetry of a nation is always the best revealer of its genuine life: the range of its spiritual as well as of its intellectual outlook. This is the case even where poetry is imitative, for imitation only pertains to the form of poetry, and not to its essence.

Vergil copied the metre and borrowed the phraseology of Homer, but is never Homeric. In one sense, all national poetry is original, even though it be shackled by rules of traditional prosody, and has adopted the system of rhyme devised by writers in another language, whose words seem naturally to bourgeon into a.s.sonant terminations. But j.a.panese poetry is original in every sense of the term. Imitative as the j.a.panese are, and borrowers from other nations in every department of plastic, fictile, and pictorial art, as well as in religion, politics, and manufactures, the poetry of j.a.pan is a true-born flower of the soil, unique in its mechanical structure, spontaneous and unaffected in its sentiment and subject.

The present collection of j.a.panese poetry is compiled and translated into English from what the j.a.panese call "The Collection of Myriad Leaves," and from a number of other anthologies made by imperial decree year by year from the tenth until the fifteenth century. This was the golden age of j.a.panese literature, and nowadays, when poetry is dead in j.a.pan, and the people and their rulers are aiming at nothing but the benefits of material civilization, these ancient anthologies are drawn upon for vamping up and compiling what pa.s.s for the current verses of the hour. The twenty volumes of the "Myriad Leaves" were probably published first in the latter half of the eighth century, in the reign of the Mikado Shiyaumu; the editor was Prince Moroye, for in those days the cultivation of verse was especially considered the privilege of the princely and aristocratic. A poem written by a man of obscure rank was sometimes included in the royal collections, but the name of the author never. And indeed some of the distinctive quality of j.a.panese poetry is undoubtedly due to the air in which it flourished. It is never religious, and it is often immoral, but it is always suffused with a certain hue of courtliness, even gentleness. The language is of the most refined delicacy, the thought is never boorish or rude; there is the self-collectedness which we find in the poetry of France and Italy during the Renaissance, and in England during the reign of Queen Anne. It exhibits the most exquisite polish, allied with an avoidance of every shocking or perturbing theme. It seems to combine the enduring l.u.s.tre of a precious metal with the tenuity of gold-leaf. Even the most vivid emotions of grief and love, as well as the horrors of war, were banished from the j.a.panese Parna.s.sus, where the Muse of Tragedy warbles, and the lyric Muse utters nothing but ditties of exquisite and melting sweetness, which soothe the ear, but never stir the heart: while their meaning is often so obscure as even to elude the understanding.

Allied to this polite reserve of the courtly poets of j.a.pan is the simplicity of their style, which is, doubtless, in a large measure, due to the meagre range of spiritual faculties which characterize the j.a.panese mind. This intellectual poverty manifests itself in the absence of all personification and reference to abstract ideas. The narrow world of the poet is here a concrete and literal sphere of experience. He never rises on wings above the earth his feet are treading, and the things around him that his fingers touch. But within this limited area he revels in a great variety of subjects. In the present anthology will be found ballads, love-songs, elegies, as well as short stanzas composed with the strictest economy of word and phrase. These we must characterize as epigrams. They are gems, polished with almost pa.s.sionless nicety and fastidious care. They remind us very much of Roman poetry under the later Empire, and many of them might have been written by Martial, at the court of Domitian.

They contain references to court doings, compliments, and sentiments couched in pointed language. The drama of j.a.pan is represented by two types, one of which may be called lyrical, and the other the comedy of real life. Specimens of both are found in the present collection, which will furnish English readers with a very fair idea of what the most interesting and enterprising of Oriental nations has done in the domain of imaginative literature.

E. W.

BALLADS

THE FISHER-BOY URASHIMA

'Tis spring, and the mists come stealing O'er Suminoye's sh.o.r.e, And I stand by the seaside musing On the days that are no more.

I muse on the old-world story, As the boats glide to and fro, Of the fisher-boy, Urashima, Who a-fishing loved to go;

How he came not back to the village Though sev'n suns had risen and set, But rowed on past the bounds of ocean, And the sea-G.o.d's daughter met;

How they pledged their faith to each other, And came to the Evergreen Land, And entered the sea-G.o.d's palace So lovingly hand in hand,

To dwell for aye in that country, The ocean-maiden and he-- The country where youth and beauty Abide eternally.

But the foolish boy said, "To-morrow I'll come back with thee to dwell; But I have a word to my father, A word to my mother to tell."

The maiden answered, "A casket I give into thine hand; And if that thou hopest truly To come back to the Evergreen Land,

"Then open it not, I charge thee!

Open it not, I beseech!"

So the boy rowed home o'er the billows To Suminoye's beach.