Showing posts with label shisei-do publications. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shisei-do publications. Show all posts

Friday, February 10, 2017

HŌRAI


HŌRAI



Blue vision of depth lost in height — sea and sky intermixing through luminous haze. The day is of spring, and the hour morning.
Only sky and sea — one azure enormity. In the foreground, ripples are catching a silvery light, and threads of foam are swirling. But a little further off no motion is visible, nor anything except color: dim warm blue water widening away to melt into blue air. Horizon, there is none: only distance soaring into space — infinite concavity hollowing before you, and hugely arching above you — the color deepening with the height. But far in the midway blue, there hangs a faint, faint vision of palace towers, with high roofs horned and curved like moons — some shadowing of splendor strange and old, illumined by a sunshine soft as memory.

What I have thus been trying to describe is a kakémono,51 that is to say, a Japanese painting on silk, suspended on the wall of my alcove and the name of it is “Shinkirō,” which means “mirage.” But the shapes of the mirage are unmistakable. Those are the glimmering portals of Hōrai the Blest;52 and those are the moony roofs of the palace of the Dragon King; and their style (though drawn by a Japanese brush of today) is the style of things Chinese, twenty-one hundred years ago. Thus, much is told of the place in the Chinese books of that time.


In Hōrai there is neither death nor pain; and there is no winter. The flowers in that place never fade, and the fruits never fail; and if a man tastes those fruits even once, he can never again feel thirst or hunger. In Hōrai grow the enchanted plants So-rin-shi, Riku-gō-aoi, and Ban-kon-tō, which heal all manner of sickness — and there also grows the magical grass, Yo-shin-shi, that revives the dead; and the magical grass is watered by a fairy water of which a single drink confers perpetual youth. The people of Hōrai eat their rice out of very, very small bowls; but the rice never diminishes within those bowls — however much of it be eaten — until the eater desires no more. And the people of Hōrai drink their wine out of very, very small cups; but no man can empty one of those cups — however stoutly he may drink — until the pleasant drowsiness of intoxication comes upon him.
All this and more is told in the legends of the time of the Shin dynasty; although, that the people who wrote down those legends ever saw Hōrai, even in a mirage, is not believable. For really, there are no enchanted fruits that leave the eater forever satisfied — nor any magical grass that revives the dead — nor any fountain of fairy water — nor any bowls that never lack rice, — nor any cups that never lack wine. It is not true that sorrow and death never enter Hōrai — neither is it true that there is not any winter. The winter in Hōrai is cold — the winds bite to the bone, and the heaping of snow on the roofs of the Dragon-King is monstrous.


Nevertheless, there are wonderful things in Hōrai; and the most wonderful of all has not been mentioned by any Chinese writer. I mean the atmosphere of Hōrai. It is an atmosphere unique to the place, and because of it, the sunshine in Hōrai is whiter than any other sunshine — a milky light that never dazzles — astonishingly clear, but very soft. This atmosphere is not of our human era: it is enormously old — so old that I feel afraid when I try to think how old it is — and it is not a mixture of nitrogen and oxygen. It is not made of air at all — but of ghost — the substance of quintillions of quintillions of gener- ations of souls, blended into one immense translucency — souls of people who thought in ways never resembling our ways. If a mortal man inhales that atmosphere, he takes the thrilling of these spirits into his blood; and they change the sense within him — reshaping his notions of space and time — so that he can see only as they used to see, and feel only as they used to feel, and think only as they used to think. Soft as sleep are these changes of sense; and Hōrai, discerned across them, might thus be described:

Because in Hōrai there is no knowledge of great evil, the hearts of the people never grow old. And, by reason of being always young in heart, the people of Hōrai smile from birth until death — except when the Gods send sorrow among them; and faces are then veiled until the sorrow goes away. All folk in Hōrai love and trust each other, as if all were members of a single household — and the speech of the women is like birds singing, because their hearts are as light as the souls of birds — and the swaying of the sleeves of the maidens at play seems like the fluttering of wide, soft wings. In Hōrai nothing is hidden but grief, because there is no reason for shame — and nothing is locked away, because there could not be any theft — and by night as well as by day all doors remain unbarred, because there is no reason for fear. And because the people are fairies — though mortal — all things in Hōrai, except the palace of the Dragon King, are small and quaint and strange — and these fairy-folk really do eat their rice out of very, very small bowls, and drink their wine out of very, very small cups.

Much of this seeming would be due to the inhalation of that ghostly atmosphere — but not all. For the spell wrought by the dead is only the charm of an ideal, the glamour of an ancient hope; and something of that hope has found fulfillment in many hearts — in the simple beauty of unselfish lives — in the sweetness of women.
Evil winds from the West are blowing over Hōrai; and the magical atmosphere, alas, is shrinking away before them. It lingers now only in patches and bands — like those long bright bands of clouds that trail across the landscapes of Japanese painters. Under these shreds of the elfish vapor you still can find Hōrai — but not everywhere. Remember that Hōrai is also called “Shinkirō,” which means mirage — the Vision of the Intangible. And the Vision is fading — never again to appear except in pictures and poems and dreams. 

(From The Annotated Kwaidan by Lafcadio Hearn, Edited and Illustrated by Hayato Tokugawa, Copyright 2017 by Hayato Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications.)









Thursday, October 3, 2013

OSHIDORI: By Lafcadio Hearn


There was a falconer and hunter, named Sonjo, who lived in the district called Tamura-no-Go, of the province of Mutsu. One day he went out hunting, and could not find any game. But on his way home, at a place called Akanuma, he spotted a pair of oshidori[1] (mandarin ducks), swimming together in a river that he was about to cross.  To kill oshidori is not good; but Sonjo happened to be very hungry, and he shot at the pair. His arrow pierced the male: the female escaped into the rushes of the further shore, and disappeared. Sonjo took the dead bird home, and cooked it.
That night he dreamed a dismal dream. It seemed to him that a beautiful woman came into his room, stood by his pillow, and began to weep. So bitterly she wept that Sonjo felt as if his heart were being torn out as he listened.


The woman cried to him, "Why…oh!  Why did you kill him?  Of what wrong was he guilty?  At Akanuma we were so happy together…and you killed him!  What harm did he ever do you? Do you even know what you have done?  Oh!  Do you know what a cruel, what a wicked thing you have done?  Me too you have killed, for I will not live without my husband!  Only to tell you this I came."  Then again she wept aloud, so bitterly that the voice of her crying pierced into the marrow of the listener's bones.  And she sobbed out the words of this poem:

Hi kurureba
Sasoeshi mono wo
Akanuma no
Makomo no kure no
Hitori-ne zo uki!

("At the coming of twilight
I invited him to return with me!
Now to sleep alone
In the shadow of the rushes of Akanuma –
Ah!  What misery unspeakable!")[2]

      After having spoken these verses she exclaimed, "Ah, you do not know!  You cannot know what you have done!  But tomorrow, when you go to Akanuma, you will see, you will see..." So saying, and weeping very heartbreakingly, she went away.
      When Sonjo awoke in the morning, the dream remained so vivid in his mind that he was greatly troubled. He remembered the words:  "But tomorrow, when you go to Akanuma, you will see.  You will see!"  And he decided to go there immediately, so that he could learn whether his dream was anything more than a dream.
      He went to Akanuma; and there, when he came to the riverbank, he saw the female oshidori swimming alone. In the same moment, the bird saw Sonjo, but instead of trying to escape, she swam straight towards him, looking at him all the while in a strange fixed way. Then, with her beak, she suddenly tore open her own body, and died before the hunter's eyes.        
      Sonjo shaved his head, and became a priest.





[1] Author’s Footnote:  From ancient time, in the Far East, these birds have been regarded as emblems of conjugal affection.
[2] Author’s Footnote:  There is a pathetic double meaning in the third verse; for the syllables composing the proper name Akanuma ("Red Marsh") may also be read as akanu-ma, signifying "the time of our inseparable (or delightful) relation." So the poem can also be thus rendered:   "When the day began to fail, I had invited him to accompany me! Now, after the time of that happy relation, what misery for the one who must slumber alone in the shadow of the rushes!"  The makomo is a short of large rush, used for making baskets.


From The Annotated Kwaidan By Lafcadio Hearn, Edited and Illustrated By Hayato Tokugawa, Copyright 2009 by Shisdei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.

Friday, September 20, 2013

JUGOYA (Harvest Moon Festival)


o-tsukimi* night

two eyes watching from the grass
tanuki views me


(*Moon viewing)

Thursday, September 19, 2013

TSUKIMI THOUGHTS (The Japanese Moon Viewing Festival)




TSUKIMI THOUGHTS

white light through the glass
kitty lying on his back
time for a moon bath

white light through the glass
cat meditates in the beam
becoming more strange

tsumiki evening
bunny and panda watching
different angles*


(*Aoi and I are on different sides of the Pacific tonight)

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Sunday, August 25, 2013

MIYAZAWA KENJI: Part II "The Cat Office"





THE CAT OFFICE

By

Miyazawa Kenji


A New Translation by Hayato Tokugawa


The following short story, “Neko no Jimusho,” first appeared in an amateur literary publication, Getsuyou, in 1926; however, it was not formally published until 1986, when it was included in a complete collection of Miyazawa’s works. The tale center on the daily operations of a small office run by of all things, cats, and was a commentary on workplace bullying and bureaucracy. While “Neko no Jimusho” is not one of the author’s best known stories, it has been illustrated as a children’s picture book several times, has been adapted in manga form, and there is also an anime adaptation of the story.

Near a certain railroad station was the 6th Office of the Ministry of Feline Affairs, which dealt primarily with inquiries into feline history and geography. The clerks in the office all wore short coats made of black satin, and were very well respected by everyone. As it happened, any time that one of the clerks left his employment or had to retire for some reason, every single one of the young cats in the area clamored to take his position. Be that as it may, the number of clerks at the 6th Office of the Ministry of Feline Affairs was always limited to four; so, of those many cats who sought the position, the only one who would get it was the most literate among them and who had the neatest handwriting.
Now, the manager of the office was a rather large black cat, a touch senile perhaps, but otherwise as sharp as a tack quite respectable. The workers beneath him were:

First Clerk: a white cat
Second Clerk; a tabby cat
Third Clerk, a tortoiseshell cat
Fourth Clerk, a “sooty” sort of cat.

The “sooty” sort of cat (everyone simply referred to him as “Soot Cat,” was not actually born that way; rather, he was born with some sort of regular, natural coloring (no one however was quite certain what that was). No, his coloring came from his habit of sleeping inside an oven at night; and as a result, his fur always ended up filthy with soot. His nose and ears in particular were stained a deep black, so one might even venture to say that he somewhat resembled a tanuki. It was because of this that Soot Cat was somewhat scorned by the others; that, and because the head of the office was a black cat, this sooty cat, who normally would never ever have been given a chance to become a clerk, no matter how much he studied, when a position became available, was chosen over forty applicants.
Manager Black Cat sat behind a red felt-covered table in the middle of the large office, with White Cat the First Clerk and the Third Clerk, Tortoiseshell, on his right, and Tabby Cat, the Second Clerk, and Soot Cat, the Fourth cat on his left; each clerk properly seated in their own little chair in front of their own little table.
Now you may well ask, “How did the 6th Office of the Ministry of Feline Affairs operate?” Well, it’s rather like this for example:
There was a knock on the office door. “Enter!” Manager Black Cat shouted, leaning back in his chair with his hands in his pockets. The four clerks kept their heads down, flipping busily through their various notebooks. A well-off cat entered. “How may we help you?” asked Black Cat.
“I would like to visit the Bering region in order to eat some arctic mice. Would you tell me the best place to go?
“Yes, of course,” replied Manger Cat. “First Clerk, tell us where arctic mice live.”
The First Clerk opened up a thick notebook with a blue cover and replied, “Usteragominya, Novaskaya, and the Husa River Basin.”
The manger addressed the well-off cat, “Usteragominya, Nova…what was it called?”
“Novaskaya,” replied the First Clerk and the well-off cat in unison.
“Oh yes, Novaskaya, and then what?”
“The Husa River Basin,” the well-off cat and First Clerk said again in unison, embarrassing Manger Black Cat.
“Right then! The Husa River. Well, I suppose that’s the place to go then.”
“So,” continued the well-off cat, “would you give me any advisories about travelling there?”
“Certainly. Second Clerk, tell me if there are any advisories about travelling in the Bering region.”
“Yes sir,” replied the Second Clerk, already flipping through his own notebook. “Summer cats must not travel there.” As he said this, for some reason, everyone glanced at Soot Cat.
Second clerk continued, “There is also a dire warning for winter cats. There is a danger of being lured in by the use of horse meat and trapped, near Hakodate. Furthermore, when black cats in particular travel there without properly distinguishing themselves as cats, they are often mistaken for black foxes and hunted down.”
“Ah, very well then,” said Manger Black Cat. “It’s quite as he said. You are not a black cat such as me, so you shouldn’t have any real trouble. Just be certain to keep clear of horse meat near Hakodate.”
“Well, then,” asked the well-off cat, “Are there any persons of note in that area?”
“Third Clerk, give me the names of any persons of note in the Bering area,” ordered Manger Cat.
“Yess…well…in the Bering area…yes…Tovaski, Gansoski…there are those names.”
“Tovaski and Gansoski? What sort of fellows are they” inquired the well-off cat.
“Fourth Clerk, tell me about Tovaski and Gansoski,” directed Manger Cat.
“Yes sir.” The Fourth Clerk, Soot Cat, had already placed one slender paw at the entries there for Tovaski and Gansoski. Both the manger and the well-off cat seemed to be very impressed by that; while the other three clerks glared at Soot Cat as if they had been slighted, and just sneered.
Soot Cat read from his notebook the best he could. “Chief Tovaski has great moral influence. He has a piercing gaze, but he is slow to speak. Wealthy Gansoski is a bit slow to speak, but he as a piercing gaze.”
“Well then, that’s all I need to know,” said the well-off cat, and he left.
And that’s the way things work — rather well for cats; however, only a year after the incident I am about to describe for you, the 6th Office was shut down. Be that as it may, you no doubt realize by now that the Fourth Clerk, Soot Cat, was greatly disliked by the other three. The Third Clerk, Tortoiseshell, was just itching to take over Soot’s work and be rid of him; and Soot simply wanted the others to think well of him. So, he worked very hard at everything he did; but no matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to change things.
For example, one day when Tabby Cat, who was seated beside Soot, placed his lunch on his desk and began to eat, he was suddenly struck by a case of the “yawns.” Taby stretched out his stubby arms as high as he could, and gave a great yawn. Now, since they were all cats, this wasn’t seen as any sign of disrespect had he been a human, it would have been the sort of offense that would have gotten his whiskers pulled. What was rude however was that when he pushed his table away, trying to stretch his legs as well, his lunch box slid off, clattering onto the floor, right in front of Manager Black Cat. The lunch box was a little beat up, but since it was made of aluminum, it didn’t break. Tabby hurriedly finished his stretch, and then leaned across the table, stretching out his arms, attempting to pick it back up.
“It’s no use! You’ll never reach it,” laughed Manger Black Cat, noisily chewing on a piece of bread.
At that moment, Soot Cat had just opened the lid of his own lunch box; but seeing the situation, he stood up at once, picked up the lunch box from the floor, and handed it to Tabby Cat. Tabby suddenly became quite angry, threw his hands up, refusing to take the box which Soot had gone out of his way to pick up, and shouted, his body shaking.
“What’s this? Are you saying I should eat this? Are you saying I should eat something that fell on the floor?”
“No sir,” replied Soot. “I was merely picking it up for you, since you were trying to pick it up yourself.”
“And just when was I trying to pick it up? Hmmmm….I just thought it quite rude to drop something in front of the manger, so I as trying to push it under my desk.”
“Oh, I see,” replied Soot. Still, the lunch box was sliding all over the place so…”
“What impertinence!” snapped Tabby. “Are you trying to start someth…”
The manger gave a loud growl, interrupting so as not to allow Tabby Cat to start a fight. “Please stop your quarreling. Soot didn’t pick up the lunch box with the intention of making you eat from it. And perhaps you have forgotten, Tabby…but I told you this morning you were getting a 10-cent raise.”
At first, Tabby Cat appeared frightened, but listened with his head bent down. Soon he began to smile. “Please forgive my rudeness sir.” He glanced sideways at Soot Cat and took his seat.
One has to feel sorry for Soot Cat. Once again, fifty-six days after that incident, a similar event occurred. This very sort of thing often happened because, for one thing, cats are naturally lazy, and also their front legs that is, their arms are rather short. On this particular day, it was the Third Clerk, Tortoiseshell Cat, sitting on the other side of the room, who, before he could start his work for the morning, let his pen slip and sent it rolling onto the floor. Tortoiseshell decided to spare himself the trouble of standing, so right then, as had Tabby, he leaned forward across the desk, stretched out his arms, and tried to pick up the pen. And, just as before, there was no way that he could reach it. As a matter of fact, Tortoiseshell was particularly short, so as he leaned further forward, his legs left his seat. Soot wasn’t sure whether he should pick up the pen, given what had happened before, so he hesitated a bit, blinking, but soon he could no longer just ignore it and stood.
This time however, Tortoiseshell leaned too far forward and toppled over the desk, banging his head. It made a dreadful sound, so much so that even Manger Black Cat stood up in surprise and took a bottle of ammonia from the shelf behind him, so that he could bring Tortoiseshell to. However, Tortoiseshell soon awoke on his own, and abruptly, in a fit of confusion shouted, “Soot! You are a rat! How dare you shove me!”
This time, the manger was quick to calm Tortoiseshell. “No, Tortoiseshell, that was your fault. Soot merely stood to do you a favor, not to do you any harm. Still, it’s not that big a deal. Anyway…ummmm…Santontan’s change of address…yes…” and he quickly returned to his work. Left with no alternative, Tortoiseshell also went back to his work, now and then glancing at Soot with a sinister gaze.
So, this was the way of things quite distressing for Soot Cat.
Soot, trying so hard to become and “ordinary cat”, took to sleeping outside the window of his shack, but the night was much too cold and he couldn’t stop sneezing; so there was no choice but back to the oven. Why did he get so cold? Well, it was because his skin was rather thin, the reason being that he was born in midsummer. When Soot thought about all this, how hopeless it was and that there was nothing he could do about it, his round eyes filled with tears. Despite all this, the manager was quite kind to him, and he was happy to think that his colleagues at the office held such prestige in the community; so even as he cried, Soot clenched his fists and thought to himself, “No matter how hard it gets, I won’t quit! I can make it through this!”
Be that as it may, even Manager Black Cat could not always be counted on. By virtue of being a cat, although he seemed wise, he really was a fool. Once, Soot Cat caught a bad cold and the joints in his legs swelled up to the size of softballs, so that he couldn’t even walk and had to take a day off from work. He didn’t even try to put up a fight; he just lay in his bed and cried and cried and cried. While watching the yellow light that streamed in through a little window in his shed, he rubbed his eyes and cried the whole day through.
Meanwhile, back at the office:
“My goodness! Soot still hasn’t come in today. He’s terribly late,” said the manger between tasks.
“Oh! He must have goon off to the beach to play or something,” said White Cat.
“No, I’ll bet someone called him off to a party somewhere,” said Tabby Cat.
“There’s a party going on today?” the manager asked with a start. He didn’t think that there was any cat in the town who would throw a party and not invite him.
“I heard there was a school opening ceremony or something going on up north.”
“Oh, I see.” Black Cat grew silent and began to brood.
“Why on earth,” said Tortoiseshell, “is Soot Cat being invited to so many places these days? I hear he’s been saying that no matter what, he’s going to be the next manager. So some worldly fools are trying their hardest to curry favor with him.”
“Is this true?” shouted Black Cat.
“It is indeed true. Go see for yourself,” Tortoiseshell said with a frown.
“Inexcusable…that cat has been eyeing me a lot. Alright, I have a thought of my own!”
The office was deathly silent for some time after that.
The next day, the swelling in Soot Cat’s legs had finally gone down, so he woke up bright and early, and walked to the office through a howling wind. When he arrived, his beloved notebook, the cover of which he would stroke each morning, was no longer on top of his desk; but instead, its contents had been divided up between the desks of his three colleagues.
“Ah, they must have been busy yesterday,” he said to himself in a hoarse voice, his heart pounding.
Click! The door opened and in came Tortoiseshell.
“Good morning,” Soot stood and greeted him, but Tortoiseshell just took his seat quietly, and then leafed through his notebook as if he was incredibly busy.
Click! Slam! In came Tabby Cat.
“Good Moring” greeted Soot as before, but Tabby wouldn’t even look his way.
“Good morning,” said Tortoiseshell.
“Morning. Some wind out there, huh?” said Tabby as he began leafing through his notebook without delay.
Click! Slam! White Cat entered the office.
“Good morning, “Tabby and Tortoiseshell greeted in unison.
“Oh! Morning! It’s quite windy out today.” White also took up his work. Soot stood languidly and silently bowed, but White Cat acted as if he didn’t even know him.
Clack! Smack!
“Whew! My goodness it’s windy.” In came Manger Black. “Good morning.” The three other cats quickly stood and bowed while Soot stood in a daze and bowed, averting his gaze.
“Seems to be a storm, yes,” said Black Cat, not looking at Soot. Soon afterward, he began his work.
“Well, we should continue yesterday’s inquiry of the Anmognac brothers. Second Clerk, which of the Anmognac brothers went to the south pole?”
And so began the day’s work. Soot watched them quietly. He had no notebook to work with. Even if he wanted to say something, he could not bring himself to speak.
“It was Pan and Polaris,” replied Tabby.
“Alright, tell me more about Pan and Polaris,” said Black.
“Oh, but that’s my job! The details…the details!” thought Soot, now on the verge of tears.
“Pan and Polaris perished on Yap Island, while returning from an expedition to the South Pole. Their frozen remains were buried at sea,” the First Clerk, White Cat, read from Soot’s own notes. Soot was sad, very sad, and his cheeks began to droop; but he watched them and endured it, holding back the tears.
The office steadily became busier and busier, and the work rolled along. Once in a while, each of them glanced Soot’s way, but they never said a word.
Noon came along. Soot didn’t even eat the lunch he had brought with him, he just sat patiently and watched; his hands in his lap. About an hour later, Soot began to sob. He cried on and off for the next three hours, until the sun began to set. Still, the others continued their apparently interesting work, as if they did not notice him at all.
About that same time, although the cats were not aware of it, a lion’s austere golden face was watching them through the window behind the manger. The lion had watched them suspiciously for some time; and then without warning, pounded on the door and came into the room. I probably don’t have to tell you how very surprised the cats were. The lion sauntered around the office lazily. Only Soot stood to greet him, drying his tears.
The lion spoke in a loud, stern voice, “Just what do you think you’re doing? You cats have no need for geography and history! Cease this at once. Humph! I’m closing this place down!”
As it turns out, and as you might suspect, the lion was from the very highest levels of government; and thus, the office was disbanded.
I half-agree with the lion.


*Oh, by the way. In case you are worried about whatever happened to Soot Cat, you needn’t worry. As was the custom, when one government office was closed, its personnel were placed with some other office that needed their talents of which Soot Cat had many.


_______________________________________________
“The Cat Office,” by Miyazawa Kenji, a new translation by Hayato Tokugawa.  Copyright © 2013 by Haytato Tokugawa and Shisei-Dō Publications. All rights reserved.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States and Japan by Shisei-Dō Publications. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photo- copying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without prior written permission of the author or publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

“The Cat Office” by Miyazawa Kenji, first published in 1926, is in the public domain.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

MORNING MUSINGS OVER COFFEE




MORNING MUSINGS OVER COFFEE

It was an interesting week here in Lake Wobegon – oh wait, that’s Garrison Keillor’s line. Well, anyway it was an interesting week, what with an out-of-season storm that brought snow to the mountains, heavy rain and wind to the city scattering what few sakura were still left on the trees, and the end of the spring break necessitating my going back to work at the university. It’s amazing how only a couple of weeks rest will necessitate massive doses of aspirin when classes start up again! “Oh, the pain, the pain, the pain. I’m getting too old for this!” But the most exciting thing to happen was more in keeping with my activities as a quasi-journalist/writer/historian. It’s no secret that I am an enthusiastic student of Japanese history. Several years ago I published an essay on a figure from post-Meiji history which became extremely popular; however, when I wrote it, I had it in the back of my mind that someday, it could be possibly expanded to a neat little book – if I could find more information.

Recently I started to re-write the essay and expand it. I didn’t think much of it at the time, not a heavy chore, but suddenly I found myself delving deeper and deeper into the history of the Taisho period and the early Showa period, which is fascinating. But I also found myself (of necessity) exploring Chinese history going back to the 1400s, then to the First Opium War, the Qing Dynasty, the Boxer Rebellion, and the Xinhai revolution, Emperor Pu Yi and on and on. I’ve watched “The Last Emperor three times this week if for no other reason than to immerse myself in the era. Even though I surficially knew that Japanese history and Chinese history (not to mention politics) was labarynthine, I had no real idea: twists and turns, plots and subplots, it goes on and on. Well, I thought the treatment of the person that the essay focused on was rather straightforward and conclusive. Then, little bits of new information were revealed, which led to questions and then more questions. Sources were checked and found limited at best; some sources in China (actually as it turns out some of the most important sources) were made unavailable to me and in some cases I was just plain blocked. China, it seems doesn’t like snoops!

Now this simple rewrite project has turned into a full-scale investigation and I even now have my very own “secret agent” in China doing the snooping for me! Suddenly lots of information has been uncovered which is leading to new possibilities for investigation, new information on interrelationships of people involved that I wasn’t aware of – it’s become even more labarynthine – and one heck of a lot of fun! Makes me want to put on my old fedora and trench coat! I can’t wait to see what information develops next 

Copyright 2013 by Hayato Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

JAPANESE AESTHETICS: FURYU


Fūryū (風流)

The Japanese aesthetic Fūryū (風流) was derived from the Chinese word fengliu, which literally translated meant “good deportment” or “manners. After its “importation” to Japan in the eight century, the word came to refer more directly to the refined tastes of a cultivated person and to things what were associated with such people. When applied in a more aesthetic sense, the word fūryū took on a reference to the refined, even elegant behavior of an sophisticated person. As time went on, the word was applied to all things that were regarded as elegant, sophisticated, stylish, or artistic.

By the twelfth century, with the evolution of semantics in Japan, fūryū began to evolve into two distinct variations. The first variation applied fūryū to more earthy, ostentatious beauty as marked in popular art forms. In the second variation, people attempted to find fūryū in the beauty portrayed in landscape gardens, flower arrangements, architecture, and poetry about nature, normally written in classic Chinese. It was this second “branch” of fūryū that in part gave birth to cha-no-yu or the tea ceremony, during the Muromachi Jidai or Muromachi Era (1333- 1573).

During the Edo Period or Edo Jidai (1603 – 1868), a form of popular fūryū became evident through a style of fictional prose known as ukyo-zōshi.[i] A second popular interpretation of fūryū became apparent in such art forms as haikai[ii] poetry and the nanga[iii] style of painting; an interpretation that advocated a withdrawal from all of life’s burdens. An example of this version of fūryū may be found in the following poem by Bashō :

the beginning of fūryū

this rice planting

song of the north.

A more contemporary interpretation of fūryū, strongly influenced by Zen, lies in the two characters which comprise the term, 風流, wind and flowing. Just like the moving wind, fūryū can only be sensed: it cannot be seen. Fūryū is tangible yet at the same time, intangible in the elegance which it implies; moreover, just like the wind, fūryū puts forward a wordless, transitory beauty, which can be experienced only in the moment: in the next it is gone. Interestingly, several styles of folk dances, yayako odori and kaka odori, have come to be referred to as fūryū or “drifting on the wind” dances and are quite popular.


[i] Ukiyo-zōshi (浮世草子 ) or “books of the floating world” was the first major genus of popular Japanese fiction, by and large written between 1690 and 1770, primarily in Kyōto and Ōsaka. Ukiyo-zōshi style literature developed from kana-zōshi (仮名草子 ) [a type of printed Japanese book that was produced largely in Kyōto between 1600 and 1680, referring to books written in kana rather than kanji]. Indeed, ukiyo-zōshi was originally classified as kana-zōshi. The actual term ukiyo-zōshi first appeared around 1710, used in reference to romantic or erotic works; however, later the term came to refer to literature that included a diversity of subjects and aspects of life during the Edo Jidai. Life of a Sensuous Man, by Ihara Saikaku, is regarded as the first work of this type. The book, as well as other passionate literature, took its subject matter from writings of or about courtesans and guides to the pleasure quarters. Although Ihara’s works were not considered “high literature” at the time, they became extremely popular and were crucial to the further development and broadened appeal of the genre. After the 1770s, the style began to stagnate and to slowly decline.

[ii] Haikai (俳諧 , meaning comic or unorthodox) is short for haikai no renga, a popular style of Japanese linked verse that originate in the sixteenth century. Unlike the more aristocratic renga, haikai was regarded as a low style of linked verse intended primarily for the average person, the traveler, and for those who lived a less privileged lifestyle.

[iii] Nanga (南画 , or southern painting) also known and bunjinga (文人画 ) , intellectual painting) was a somewhat undefined school of Japanese painting which thrived during the late Edo Period. Its artists tended to regard themselves as an intellectual elite or literati. The artists who followed this school were both unique and independent; yet they all shared a high regard for traditional Chinese culture. Their paintings, most often rendered in black ink, but at times with light color, were inclined to represent Chinese landscapes or related subjects, much in the same form as Chinese wenrenhua or literati painting of the nanzonghua or Chinese “southern school” or art.


Copyright 2010 by Hayato Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.