The Life of Ancient Japan

Selected Contemporary Texts Illustrating Social Life and Ideals before the Era of Seclusion

Kurt Singer

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2014
• Topic: History
• eBook ISBN:
  9781134278138
• Subtopic: Social History
• Index: History

First Published in 2002. This book looks at the small groups of Japanese people who were perpetually endangered by foreign invasions, actual and potential, and even more by the disruptive forces of their own ambitious kith and kin. These people were scattered over a number of islands, each again divided by mountain ranges into a set of island-like districts, and they lived and enjoyed a perilous existence which made them stronger and still more secretive. Traits and tendencies of this order are in the strictest sense ultimate data of sociological analysis. The purpose of the present book is to facilitate these studies, by presenting a co-ordinated number of texts dating from the epochs in which the foundations of Japanese civilization were laid.

KAMAKURA PERIOD
(A.D. 1185–1392)

ROMANCE AND CHIVALRY

Heike-Monogatari

1. EARLY DANCING GIRLS

Now not only did this priestly statesman¹ hold the whole country in the hollow of his hand, but, neither ashamed at the censure of the world, nor regarding the derision of the people, he indulged in the most surprising conduct. For example, in the Capital there were two famous Shirabyōshi² who were sisters, named Giō and Ginyo, both young girls and very skilled in their art. The elder, Giō, was beloved by Kiyomori, and her younger sister also was in high favour with everyone. So they were enabled to build a good house for their mother, who was granted a monthly income of a hundred koku of rice, and a hundred kwan in money by Kiyomori. Their family was consequently rich and honoured, fortunate beyond the lot of most people. Now the origin of Shirabyōshi in our country was in the reign of Tobain when Shima-no-chisai and Waka-no-mae appeared as dancers. In the beginning the Shirabyōshi wore the “Suikan” or silk court robe and “tate-eboshi” or black court headdress, with a white dirk in their belt, when they danced, and it was like the dancing of a man; but from the middle age the headdress and sword were disused, and they danced only in the white “Suikan,” hence they were called Shirabyōshi.

But among the Shirabyōshi of the Capital, when they heard of the good fortune of Giō, there were some who hated her and some who were envious. Those who envied her said: “Ah! how fortunate is Giō Gozen, if we do even as she does we too may become prosperous in like manner;” so they added the syllable “Gi” to their names to see if they too might not obtain good luck. Some called themsleves Giichi, Giji, Gifiiku, or Gitoku. Those who hated her said, “Surely it is not a matter of the name or character with which it is written, fortune is the result of disposition inherited from a previous existence;” and so few of them took such a name.

Now it came to pass that, three years afterwards, another skilful Shirabyōshi appeared; and she was a maiden of sixteen years of age, born in the province of Kaga, and her name was Hotoke. And when the people of the Capital, both high and low, saw her, they said that although from of old times many Shirabyōshi had been seen there, one so dexterous as she had not been beheld; and she too was in exceeding great favour with all. And in the course of time Hotoke Gozen said: “Though I have made sport for the whole Empire, yet this great Taira minister who now is the source of all fortune and prosperity has not yet deigned to summon me; after the manner of entertainers I will e’en go uninvited.” So she forthwith proceeded to the Palace in Nishihachijo. On her arrival, a servant entered the presence of the minister and announced: “Hotoke Gozen, now so famous in this city is without.” Then the Lay-priest grew very angry and replied “How then I do not these players attend only when they are called? Why it is that she has come unbidden? Whether she be called God or Buddha (Hotoke), it is not suitable that she come here while Giō is present. Bid her depart at once.”

Hotoke Gozen was already retiring at those unkind words, when Giō said to the Minister “It is surely the usual custom that players should attend unbidden, and moreover it is because she is still young and innocent that she has thus intruded on you—so it will be most unkind to speak harshly and send her away—how greatly will she be shamed and distressed by it; as I myself have trodden the same path, I cannot but remember these things. If you will not deign to allow her to dance or to sing, yield, I pray you, so far as to call her back and receive her in audience; if you then dismiss her, it will be a favour indeed worthy of her deep gratitude.” To this the Priest-Minister answered: “Since you wish it to be so, I will see her and then dismiss her:” and he sent a servant to call her.

Hotoke Gozen, having been thus harshly treated, was even then entering her carriage to return when she was summoned and turned back again. The Minister met her and granted her an audience. Thus Hotoke, though it seemed unlikely that she would gain an audience, yet through the kindness of Giō, who thus imported for her, was not only able to enter the Minister’s presence, but further it happened that he, wishing to hear her voice, directed that she should sing a song of the kind called “Imayo:” and thus she sang:

“When I first enjoyed the sight of your bountiful presence,
’Twas like the evergreen pine, flourishing age after age.
Like to the pond on whose rocks is basking the turtle thrice blessed,
Numberless storks beside it happily preening their wings”

And those who heard it were greatly wondering at her skill and her beauty, and pressed her to repeat it even to three times. The Lay-priest also was greatly diverted and said: “Since you are so skilful at Imayo you must also be able to dance well; we wish to see one of your dances.” Then the drums were ordered to be beaten and she danced forthwith. Now Hotoke Gozen was renowned for the beauty of her hair and features, and her voice was no less exquisite; how then should she fail in the dance? So when she put forth all her skill and charm in dancing, Kiyomori was enraptured and his heart turned wholly toward her. But when Hotoke Gozen said to him: “Did I not present myself uninvited, and when almost rejected was I not only brought back by the entreaty of Giō Gozen? I pray thee grant me leave that I may return quickly;”the Lay-monk by no means agreed to the proposal, and thinking that she was only embarrassed because of the presence of the other, proposed to send Giō away.

But Hotoke Gozen answered “How can this be? If we were to remain here both together, I should be most embarrassed, and if your Excellency send away Giō Gozen and keep me alone, how ashamed will she not feel in her heart? Indeed it will be most painful to her. If you deign to think of me again in the future, I am always able to come at your call. I beg that to-day I may be allowed to retire.”

Kiyomori, seeing how the matter lay, straightway ordered Giō to leave the Palace, and to that end sent a messenger three times. Although Giō had expected this thing from long before, she did not think that it would come to pass to-day or to-morrow. But as the Nyūdō continually repeated this unreasonable demand, there was nothing for her but to sweep her room clean and to go. Even those who meet under the shade of the same tree, or who greet each other by the riverside, since it is owing to relations in a previous existence, ever feel pain at parting with each other; how much more grievous a thing it is, when two have been together in affection for the space of three years. So in regret and grief she shed unavailing tears. Thus as it was a thing that must be, Gio went forth, but ere she went she wrote on the Shōji this verse, thinking to bring perchance to remembrance the forgotten image of one who was gone.

Whether fresh and green
Or in sere and yellow leaf,
Grasses of the field,
When the autumn comes at length,
Meet with the same hopeless fate.

2. AUTUMN LEAVES: A BOY-EMPEROR AND HIS SERVANTS

While Takakura Tennō¹ was on the Throne everybody declared that his consideration for others surpassed even that of the Mikados of the periods Enki and Tenryaku, and though generally speaking it was after he had attained to years of discrimination that he obtained his reputation for wisdom and benevolence, yet his disposition was kind and gentle from his earliest childhood.

During the period Shoan, when His Majesty was only about ten years old, being extremely fond of the tinted leaves of autumn, he had a little hill-garden made, in the north enclosure of the Palace, and planted it with maple and “haze” trees that redden beautifully in that season, calling it “The Hill of Autumn Tints” and from morning till evening he never seemed to tire of looking at it. But one night a late autumn gale blew violently and scattered the leaves everywhere in confusion, so the next morning, when the Palace servants went round early as usual to clean the grounds, they swept up all the fallen leaves and the broken branches as well, and as it was a bleak and cheerless morning they made a fire with them in the court of the Nuidono, and heated some sake to warm themselves.

Soon afterwards the Kurando¹in waiting, hastening to inspect the garden before the Emperor should see it, and finding nothing there, enquired the reason and the servants told him. “What?” he exclaimed, “how could you dare to treat the garden that the Emperor is so fond of in such a way? You deserve to be imprisoned or banished at least, and I too may very likely incur the Imperial displeasure.” Just then the Emperor, coming out to see his favourite trees as soon as he had left his bed-chamber, was surprised to find they had all disappeared, and the Kurando told him what had happened. To his surprise His Majesty was not at all angry, but only laughed and quoted the Chinese poem by Haku-raku-ten (Po-chu-i) about warming wine in the woods by burning maple-leaves. “I wonder” he said, “who can have taught it them. Really they are quite esthetes.”

3. THE DEATH OF A POET-WARRIOR

Satsuma-no-kami Tadanori, the Commander of the western army, clad in a dark-blue hitatare and a suit of armour with black silk lacing, and mounted on a great black horse with a saddle enriched with lacquer of powdered gold, was calmly withdrawing with his following of a hundred horsemen, when Okabe-no-Rokuyata Tadazumi of Musashi espied him and pursued at full gallop, eager to bring down so noble a prize.

“This must be some great leader!” he cried. “Shameful! to turn your back to the foe!” Tadanori turned in the saddle, “We are friends! We are friends!” he replied, as he continued on his way. As he turned, however, Tadazumi had caught a glimpse of his face and noticed that his teeth were blackened. “There are none of our side who have blackened teeth,” he said, “This must be one of the Heike Courtiers.” And overtaking him, he ranged up to him to grapple. When his hundred followers saw this, since they were hired retainers drawn from various provinces, they scattered and fled in all directions, leaving their leader to his fate.

But Satsuma-no-kami, who had been brought up at Kumano, was famous for his strength, and was extremely active and agile besides, so clutching Tadazumi he pulled him from his horse, dealing him two stabs with his dirk while he was yet in the saddle, and following them with another as he was falling. The first two blows fell on his armour and failed to pierce it, while the third wounded him in the face but was not mortal, and as Tadanori sprang down upon him to cut off his head, Tadazumi’s page, who had been riding behind him, slipped from his horse and with a blow of his sword cut off Tadanori’s arm above the elbow.

Satsuma-no-kami, seeing that all was over and wishing to have a short space to say the death-prayer, flung Tadazumi from him so that he fell about a bow’s length away. Then truning toward the west he repeated: “Kōmyō Henjō Jippō Sekai, Nembutsu Shujō Sesshu Fusha; O Amida Nyorai, who sheddest the light of Thy Presence through the ten quarters of the world, gather into Thy Radiant Heaven all who call upon Thy Name!” And just as his prayer was finished, Tadazumi from behind swept off his head.

Not doubting that he had taken the head of a noble foe, but quite unaware who he might be, he was searching his armour when he came across a piece of paper fastened to his quiver, on which was written a verse with this title: “The Traveller’s Host, a Flower.”

Seeking where I may lodge on my weary way, in the evening
Under a tree I lie; now is my host but a flower.

Wherefore he knew that it could be none but Satsuma-no-kami.

Then he lifted up the head on his sword’s point and shouted with a loud voice: “Satsuma-no-kami Dono, the demon-warrior of Nippon, slain by Okabe-Rokuyata Tadazumi of Musashi!” And when they heard it, all, friends and foes alike, moistened the sleeves of their armour with their tears exclaiming: “Alas! what a great captain has passed away! Warrior and artist and poet; in all things he was pre-eminent.”

4. AN AMAZON

Now Kiso¹ had brought with him from Shinano two beau...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• Introduction
• A Prologue
• Yamato Period (X—A. D. 592)
• Asuka and Nara Periods (A. D. 592–794)
• Heian Period (A. D. 794–1185)
• Kamakura Period (A. D. 1 185–1392)
• Ashikaga And Momoyama Periods (A. D. 1392–1568)
• An Epilogue
• Seven Appendices: Laws, Rules And Customs