The Tale of Genji, Page 6

  As for the grandmother, she remained inconsolable and wished only to join her daughter, which no doubt is why she, too, to His Majesty's boundless sorrow, at last passed away. The boy was then entering his sixth year. This time he understood what had happened, and he cried. Toward the end, she who had been close to him for so long spoke again and again of how sad she was to leave him.

  Now the boy was permanently in attendance at the palace. When he reached his seventh year, His Majesty had him perform his first reading, which he carried off with such unheard-of brilliance that his father was frankly alarmed. “Surely none of you can dislike him now,” he said; “after all, he no longer has a mother. Please be nice to him.” When he took him to the Kokiden, the Consort there let him straight through her blinds and would not release him, for the sight of him would have brought smiles to the fiercest warrior, even an enemy one. She had given His Majesty two daughters, but by no stretch of the imagination could either be compared with him. Nor did any other imperial lady hide from him, because he was already so charmingly distinguished in manner that they found him a delightful and challenging playmate. Naturally he applied himself to formal scholarship,42 but he also set the heavens ringing with the music of strings and flute. In fact, if I were to list all the things at which he excelled, I would only succeed in making him sound absurd.

  During this time His Majesty learned that a delegation from Koma43 included an expert physiognomist, and since it would have contravened Emperor Uda's solemn admonition to call him to the palace, he instead sent his son secretly to the Kōrokan.44 The Right Grand Controller, charged with taking him there, presented him as his own.

  Blinds

  The astonished physiognomist nodded his head again and again in perplexity. “He has the signs of one destined to become the father of his people and to achieve the Sovereign's supreme eminence,” he said, “and yet when I see him so, I fear disorder and suffering. But when I see him as the future pillar of the court and the support of all the realm, there again appears to be a mismatch.”

  The Controller himself was a man of deep learning, and his conversation with the visitor was most interesting. They exchanged poems, and when the physiognomist, who was soon to leave, made a very fine one expressing joy at having met so extraordinary a boy, together with sorrow upon parting from him, the boy composed some moving lines of his own, which the visitor admired extravagantly before presenting him with handsome gifts. The visitor, too, received many gifts, conveyed to him from His Majesty. News of this encounter got about, as such news will, and although His Majesty never mentioned it, the Minister of the Right, the Heir Apparent's grandfather, wondered suspiciously what it might mean.

  His Majesty was greatly impressed to find that the visitor's reading tallied with one that he had obtained in his wisdom through the art of physiognomy as practiced in Japan, and on the strength of which he had refrained from naming his son a Prince. He therefore decided that rather than set the boy adrift as an unranked Prince,45 unsupported by any maternal relative, he would assure him a more promising future (since, after all, his own reign might be brief) by having him serve the realm as a commoner; and in this spirit he had him apply himself more diligently than ever to his studies. It was a shame to make a subject of him, considering his gifts, but he was bound to draw suspicion as a Prince, and when consultation with an eminent astrologer only confirmed this prediction, His Majesty resolved to make him a Genji.46

  Month after month, year after year, His Majesty never forgot his lost Haven. After summoning several likely prospects, he sorrowfully concluded that he would never find her like again in this world, but then he heard from a Dame of Staff about another possibility: the fourth child of a former Emperor, a girl known for her beauty and brought up by her mother, the Empress, with the greatest care. Owing that Emperor her office as she did, the Dame had served the young lady's mother intimately as well, and so she had known her, too, from infancy; in fact, she saw her from time to time even now. “In all my three reigns of service at court,47 I have seen no one like Your Majesty's late Haven,” she said, “but the Princess I refer to has grown to be very like her. She is a pleasure to look at.”

  His Majesty approached the mother with great circumspection, eager to discover the truth of this report. She received his proposal with alarm, because she knew how unpleasant the Heir Apparent's mother could be, and she shrank from exposing her daughter to the blatant contempt with which this Consort had treated her Kiritsubo rival. So it was that she passed away before she could bring herself to consent. Once the daughter was alone, His Majesty pressed his suit earnestly, assuring her that she would be to him as a daughter of his own.48 Her gentlewomen, those properly concerned with her interests,49 and her elder brother, His Highness of War, all agreed that she would be far better off at the palace than forlorn at home, and they therefore insisted that she should go.

  She was called Fujitsubo. She resembled that other lady to a truly astonishing degree, but since she was of far higher standing, commanded willing respect, and could not possibly be treated lightly, she had no need to defer to anyone on any matter. His Majesty had clung all too fondly to his old love, despite universal disapproval, and he did not forget her now, but in a touching way his affection turned to this new arrival, who was a great consolation to him.

  None of His Majesty's ladies could remain shy with the young Genji, especially the one he now saw so often, because he hardly ever left his father's side. All of them took pride in their looks, no doubt with good reason, but they were no longer in the first blush of youth, whereas the new Princess was both young and charming, and Genji naturally caught glimpses of her, although she did what she could to keep out of his sight. He had no memory of his mother, but his youthful interest was aroused when the Dame of Staff told him how much the Princess resembled her, and he wanted always to be with her so as to contemplate her to his heart's content.

  His Majesty, who cared so deeply for both of them, asked her not to maintain her reserve. “I am not sure why,” he said, “but it seems right to me that he should take you for his mother. Do not think him uncivil. Just be kind to him. His face and eyes are so like hers that your own resemblance to her makes it look quite natural.” Genji therefore lost no chance offered by the least flower or autumn leaf to let her know in his childish way how much he liked her. His Majesty's fondness for her prompted the Kokiden Consort to fall out with her as she had done with Genji's mother, until her old animosity returned and she took an aversion to Genji as well.

  Coming-of-age ceremony

  Genji's looks had an indescribably fresh sweetness, one beyond even Her Highness's celebrated and, to His Majesty, peerless beauty, and this moved people to call him the Shining Lord. Since Fujitsubo made a pair with him, and His Majesty loved them both, they called her the Sunlight Princess.

  His Majesty was reluctant to spoil Genji's boyish charm, but in Genji's twelfth year he gave him his coming of age, busying himself personally with the preparations and adding new embellishments to the ceremony. Lest the event seem less imposing than the one for the Heir Apparent, done some years ago in the Shishinden, and lest anything go amiss, he issued minute instructions for the banquets to be offered by the various government offices and for the things normally provided by the Court Repository and Imperial Granary, eliciting from them perfection in all they supplied.

  He had his throne face east from the outer, eastern chamber of his residence, with the seats for the young man and his sponsor, the Minister, before him.50 Genji appeared at the hour of the Monkey. His Majesty appeared to regret that Genji would never look again as he did now, with his hair tied in twin tresses51 and his face radiant with the freshness of youth. The Lord of the Treasury and the Chamberlain52 did their duty. The Lord of the Treasury was plainly sorry to cut off such beautiful hair, and His Majesty, who wished desperately that his Haven might have been there to see it, needed the greatest self-mastery not to weep.

  All present shed tears when, after
donning the headdress and withdrawing to the anteroom, Genji then reappeared in the robes of a man and stepped down into the garden to salute his Sovereign. His Majesty, of course, was still more deeply moved, and in his mind he sadly reviewed the past, when the boy's mother had been such a comfort to him. He had feared that Genji's looks might suffer once his hair was put up, at least while he remained so young, but not at all: he only looked more devastatingly handsome than ever.

  Twin tresses

  By Her Highness53 his wife the sponsoring Minister had a beloved only daughter in whom the Heir Apparent had expressed interest, but whom after long hesitation he felt more inclined to offer to Genji instead. When he had sounded out the Emperor's own feelings on the matter, His Majesty replied, “Very well, she may be just the companion for him,54 now that he seems no longer to have anyone looking after him”; and this had encouraged His Excellency to proceed.

  Genji withdrew to the anteroom and then took the very last seat among the Princes,55 while the assembled company enjoyed their wine. His Excellency dropped hints to him about this marriage, but Genji was at a bashful age and gave him no real response. Then a lady from the Office of Staff sent His Excellency a message from His Majesty, requiring his presence, and His Excellency obeyed forthwith.56

  One of His Majesty's gentlewomen took the gifts from his own hands to bestow them on His Excellency. They included, according to custom, a white, oversize woman's gown57 and a set of women's robes. On handing him the wine cup, His Majesty gave pointed expression to his feelings:

  “Into that first knot to bind up his boyish hair did you tie the wish

  that enduring happiness be theirs through ages to come?”58

  “In that very mood I tied his hair with great prayers bound henceforth to last,

  just as long as the dark hue of the purple does not fade,”

  His Excellency replied before stepping down from the long bridge59 to perform his obeisance. There he received a horse from the Left Imperial Stables and a perched falcon from the Chamberlains' Office. The Princes and senior nobles then lined up below the steps,60 each to receive his gift.

  The delicacies in cypress boxes and the fruit baskets had been prepared for the Emperor that day by the Right Grand Controller, at His Majesty's own command. There were so many rice dumplings and so many chests of cloth,61 certainly more than when the Heir Apparent came of age, that there was hardly any room for them all. It was in fact Genji's ceremony that displayed truly magnificent liberality.

  That evening His Majesty sent Genji to the Minister's residence, where His Excellency welcomed him and gave the ensuing rite62 a dazzling brilliance. The family found Genji preternaturally attractive, despite his still being such a child, but His Excellency's daughter, somewhat older, thought him much too young and was ashamed that he should suit her so poorly.

  His Excellency enjoyed His Majesty's highest regard, and the Princess who had borne him his daughter was moreover His Majesty's full sister. Both were therefore of supreme distinction, and the Minister of the Right cut a poor figure now that Genji had joined them, too, despite being destined one day to rule the realm as the grandfather of the Heir Apparent. His Excellency had many children by various ladies. By Her Highness he had, apart from his daughter, a very young and promising Chamberlain Lieutenant63 whom the Minister of the Right had wished to secure as a son-in-law, even though he was hardly on good terms with the young man's father, and whom he had therefore matched with his beloved fourth daughter. He treated the young man just as well as Genji's father-in-law treated Genji, and the two sons-in-law got on perfectly together.

  Genji was not free to live at home,64 for His Majesty summoned him too often. In his heart he saw only Fujitsubo's peerless beauty. Ah, he thought, she is the kind of woman I want to marry; there is no one like her! His Excellency's daughter was no doubt very pretty and well brought up, but he felt little for her because he had lost his boyish heart to someone else; indeed, he had done so to the point of pain.

  Now that Genji was an adult, His Majesty no longer allowed him through Fujitsubo's curtains to be with her as before. Whenever there was music, he would accompany her koto on his flute; this and the faint sound of her voice through the blinds65 were his consolations, and he wanted never to live anywhere but in the palace. Only after waiting upon His Majesty for five or six days might he now and again put in two or three at His Excellency's, but he was so young that the Minister did not really mind, and he treated his son-in-law generously. His Excellency selected the least ordinary among the available gentlewomen for Genji's service. These entered with him into his favorite pastimes and looked after him very well.

  His residence at the palace was the Kiritsubo, as before, and His Majesty kept his mother's gentlewomen together so as to have them serve him in turn. He also decreed that the Office of Upkeep and the Office of Artisans should rebuild his mother's home, which they did beautifully. The layout of the trees and garden hills was already very pleasant, but with much bustle and noise they handsomely enlarged the lake. Genji kept wishing with many sighs that he had a true love to come and live with him there.

  They say that his nickname, the Shining Lord, was given him in praise by the man from Koma.

  2

  HAHAKIGI

  The Broom Tree

  Hahakigi (“broom tree”) is a plant from which brooms were indeed made and that had the poetic reputation of being visible from afar and of disappearing as one approached. As the chapter title, it alludes to an exchange of poems between Genji and a woman who has frustrated him by making herself inaccessible. He writes:

  “I who never knew what it was the broom tree meant now wonder to find

  the road to Sonohara led me so far from my way.”

  She answers:

  “Stricken with regret to have it known she was born in a humble home,

  the broom tree you briefly glimpsed fades and is soon lost to view.”

  RELATIONSHIP TO PRECEDING CHAPTER

  The last distinct event mentioned in “The Paulownia Pavilion,” Genji's marriage to Aoi, takes place when he is twelve. At the beginning of “The Broom Tree” he is seventeen. The tale says nothing about the intervening years, save for an allusion in this chapter to at least an attempted affair with Asagao.

  PERSONS

  Genji, a Captain in the Palace Guards, age 17

  The Secretary Captain, Genji's friend and brother-in-law (Tō no Chūjō)

  The Chief Left Equerry (Sama no Kami)

  The Fujiwara Aide of Ceremonial (Tō Shikibu no Jō)

  His Excellency, the Minister of the Left,

  Genji's father-in-law, 51 (Sadaijin)

  Genji's wife, 21 (Aoi)

  Chūnagon, a gentlewoman in service at His Excellency's

  Nakatsukasa, a gentlewoman in service at His Excellency's

  The Governor of Kii, a retainer of the Minister of the Left (Ki no Kami)

  The Iyo Deputy, father of the Governor of Kii and husband of Utsusemi (Iyo no Suke)

  The daughter of His Highness of Ceremonial (Asagao)

  A young woman, the stepmother of the Governor of Kii (Utsusemi)

  Utsusemi's younger brother, 12 or 13 (Kogimi)

  Chūjō, Utsusemi's gentlewoman

  Shining Genji: the name was imposing, but not so its bearer's many deplorable lapses; and considering how quiet he kept his wanton ways, lest in reaching the ears of posterity they earn him unwelcome fame, whoever broadcast his secrets to all the world was a terrible gossip. At any rate, opinion mattered to him, and he put on such a show of seriousness that he started not one racy rumor. The Katano Lieutenant1 would have laughed at him!

  While Genji was still a Captain, he felt at home nowhere but in the palace, and he went to His Excellency's only now and then. The household sometimes suspected his thoughts of being “all in a hopeless tangle”2 over another woman, but actually he had no taste for frivolous, trite, or impromptu affairs. No, his way was the rare amour fraught with difficulty and heartach
e, for he did sometimes do things he ought not to have done.

  The early summer rains were falling and falling, while at the palace seclusion3 went on and on, so that he was there even longer than usual; but although at His Excellency's there was concern and annoyance, they still sent him clothing of every kind and in the height of fashion, and his brothers-in-law spent all their time at the palace in his rooms.

  One,4 Her Highness's son and like Genji a Captain, was a particularly close friend with whom he shared music and other amusements more willingly than with anyone else. The residence of the Minister of the Right,5 where the young man was looked after so gladly, thoroughly depressed him, and he had a marked taste for romantic forays elsewhere. Even at home he had his room done up in style, and in Genji's comings and goings he kept him such constant company that the two were together day and night for both study and music, at which he was nearly as quick as Genji himself, until he naturally dropped all reserve with Genji, told him whatever was on his mind, and treated him as a bosom friend.

  Cabinet

  It had been raining all the dull day long and on into an equally wet evening. There was hardly anyone in the privy chamber, and Genji's own room seemed unusually quiet as the two of them read beside the lamp. When the Secretary Captain took some letters on paper of various colors from a nearby cabinet shelf and betrayed curiosity about them, Genji demurred. “You may look at the ones that do not matter. Some could be embarrassing, though.”

  “But it is just the ones you think so personal and compromising that interest me,” the Secretary Captain complained. “Even I get perfectly ordinary letters from ladies of one rank or another, in the course of my correspondence with them. The letters worth reading are those sent when the writer was angry, or when dusk was falling and she anxiously awaited her lover's coming.”