“Spring carolings…,”53 she at last replied tremulously.
“There, you see?” He laughed. “I am sure it is the New Year that has done it!” He then took his leave, humming “I must be dreaming”54 while she, leaning against a pillar, watched him go. She had her hand over her mouth, but he still glimpsed the rich bloom of that blushing flower, and his mind was invaded by the thought, It makes her look such a fright!
Young woman in a “long dress”
His young Murasaki55 looked deliciously pretty to him when he returned to Nijō and he was delighted to enjoy the color scarlet so much after all. The plain, pleasantly rumpled cherry blossom56 long dress she had on, coupled with the artlessness of her ways, made her simply enchanting. In deference to her grandmother's old-fashioned manners her teeth had not yet received any blacking,57 but he had had her made up, and the sharp line of her eyebrows58 was very attractive. He wondered with all his heart why he spent so much time on his foolish adventures instead of staying at home with this dear companion. Meanwhile, the two of them began as usual to play with dolls.
She drew pictures and colored them, scattering them about happily in her excitement. Genji made a picture of his own. He drew a lady with very long hair, and at the tip of her nose he put a dab of rouge:59 yes, she was still ugly, even in a painting. Noting in a nearby mirror how handsome he was,60 he gave himself a bright red nose and looked again: no, no beauty of his could survive having that in the middle of his face. His young lady laughed merrily at the sight.
“How would you feel if I were disfigured this way?”
“I would hate it!” She began to worry that the red might stick.
He pretended to wipe it off and gravely announced, “It won't come off! What a horrible trick I have played on myself! What will His Majesty say?”
She came and wiped it off tenderly for him. “Now, now,” he teased her, “don't go daubing me up like Heichū!61 With red I can still manage!” They made a delightful couple.
The sun was bright and warm, and the plums, among all the budding trees swathed in spring haze, were most visibly promising to burst into bloom. The red plum tree by the steps down to the garden flowered especially early, and it was already tinged with color.
“Why I do not know, but I cannot say I like any scarlet flower,
though I have great affection for the tall sprays of the plum.
Ah, me!” The perplexed Genji sighed.
I wonder what happened to all these ladies in the end.
7
MOMIJI NO GA
Beneath the Autumn Leaves
Ga means a celebration (a jubilee) for a great personage on the occasion of his attaining a felicitously advanced age. The personage here is a former Emperor (the father or perhaps the elder brother of Genji's father); the occasion is probably his entering his fortieth or fiftieth year; and the celebration takes place under bright autumn leaves (momiji).
RELATIONSHIP TO EARLIER CHAPTERS
“Beneath the Autumn Leaves” begins in the autumn of the year in which Genji is eighteen and overlaps with the later part of “The Safflower” and, somewhat less, with the later part of “Young Murasaki.” It continues to the autumn of the following year, when Genji is nineteen.
PERSONS
Genji, a Captain in the Palace Guards, then a Consultant, age 18 to 19
His Majesty, the Emperor, Genji's father (Kiritsubo no Mikado)
Her Highness, then Her Majesty, the Empress, Fujitsubo, 23 to 24
The Secretary Captain (Tō no Chūjō)
The Heir Apparent's mother, the Kokiden Consort
The Heir Apparent, 21 to 22 (Suzaku)
Genji's wife, 22 to 23 (Aoi)
Genji's young lady, 10 to 11 (Murasaki)
His Highness of War, Murasaki's father and Fujitsubo's brother, 33 to 34 (Hyōbukyō no Miya)
Ōmyōbu, Fujitsubo's intimate gentlewoman
Shōnagon, Murasaki's nurse
His Excellency, the Minister of the Left, 52 to 53 (Sadaijin)
Fujitsubo's newborn son (Reizei)
A Dame of Staff, 57 or 58 when Genji is 19 (Gen no Naishi)
His Majesty's progress to the Suzaku Palace took place after the tenth of the tenth month. The excursion was to be exceptionally brilliant, and his ladies were disappointed that they would not see it. Since he did not want Fujitsubo to miss it, he arranged a full rehearsal in her presence.
Captain Genji danced “Blue Sea Waves.” His partner the Secretary Captain, His Excellency of the Left's son, certainly stood out in looks and skill, but beside Genji he was only a common mountain tree next to a blossoming cherry. As the music swelled and the piece reached its climax in the clear light of the late-afternoon sun, the cast of Genji's features and his dancing gave the familiar steps an unearthly quality. His singing of the verse could have been the Lord Buddha's kalavinka voice in paradise.1 His Majesty was sufficiently transported with delight to wipe his eyes, and all the senior nobles and Princes wept. When the verse was over, when Genji tossed his sleeves again to straighten them2 and the music rose once more in response, his face glowed with a still-greater beauty.
Even in his moment of triumph the Heir Apparent's mother remarked bitterly, “With those looks of his, the gods above must covet him. How unpleasant!” The young gentlewomen listening thought her hateful.
Fujitsubo knew that she would have liked his dance still better if he were not so importunate in his desires, and she felt as though she had dreamed this vision of him. She went straight to attend His Majesty for the night.
“‘Blue Sea Waves’ made the rehearsal today, did it not?” he remarked. “How did it strike you?”
“It was very nice.” She was too flustered to answer him better.
“His partner did not do at all badly either. In dancing and gesture, breeding will tell. One admires the renowned professional dancers,3 but they lack that easy grace. The performance under the autumn trees may be an anticlimax now that the rehearsal day has gone so well, but I had them do their best so that you should see it all.”
Genji wrote to her the next morning, “How did you find it? All the time I was more troubled than one could ever imagine.
My unhappiness made of me hardly the man to stand up and dance;
did you divine what I meant when I waved those sleeves of mine?
But I must say no more.”
She replied, for no doubt she could not banish that beauty and that dazzling grace from her mind,
“That man of Cathay who waved his sleeves long ago did so far away,4
but every measure you danced to my eyes seemed wonderful.
Oh, yes, very much.”
Overjoyed by the miracle of an answer from her, he smiled to see that with her knowledge even of dance, and with her way of then bringing in the realm across the sea, she already wrote like an Empress. He spread the letter out and contemplated it as though it were holy writ.
Kalavinka
The entire court accompanied His Majesty on the progress itself, as did the Heir Apparent. The musicians' barges rowed around the lake, as always, and there were all sorts of dances from Koma and Cathay.5 The music of the instruments and the beat of the drums set the heavens ringing. His Majesty had been disturbed enough by the magic of Genji's figure at sundown that other day to have scriptures read for him at temples here and there, and everyone who heard of it wholly sympathized, save the mother of the Heir Apparent, who thought the gesture absurdly overdone. His Majesty had pressed into the circle of musicians6 every officeholder of recognized talent from among the privy gentlemen or the lesser ranks. Two Consultants—one the Intendant of the Left Gate Watch, the other that of the Right—were put in charge of the music of Left and Right.7 Every gentleman had chosen a first-rate teacher and practiced assiduously at home.
Under the tall autumn trees breath from a circle forty strong roused from the instruments an indescribable music that mingled with the wind's roaring and sighing as it swept, galelike, down the mountain,
while through the flutter of bright falling leaves “Blue Sea Waves” shone forth with an awesome beauty. When most of the leaves were gone from Genji's headdress, leaving it shamed by the brilliance of his face, the Intendant of the Left Gate Watch picked chrysanthemums to replace them from among those before His Majesty. In the waning light the very sky seemed inclined to weep, shedding a hint of rain while Genji in his glory, decked with chrysanthemums now faded to the loveliest of shades, again displayed the marvels of his skill. His closing steps sent a shiver through the gathering, who could not imagine what they saw to be of this world. Among the undiscerning multitude sheltered beneath the trees, hidden among the rocks, or buried among fallen leaves on the mountainside, those with eyes to see shed tears.
The greatest treat after “Blue Sea Waves” was “Autumn Wind,” danced by the Fourth Prince (then still a boy), the Shōkyōden Consort's son.8 Attention wandered now that the best of the dances was over, and what followed may even have spoiled things a little.
That evening Captain Genji assumed the third rank, upper grade, while the Secretary Captain rose to the fourth rank, lower grade.9 If every senior noble had reason to rejoice,10 each in the measure due him, it was because Genji's own ascent had drawn him upward. How gladly one would know what merit from lives past allowed him to dazzle all eyes and bring such joy to every heart!
Her Highness had withdrawn from court, and Genji gave himself up as always to watching for a chance to see her, subjecting himself to further complaints from His Excellency's. Nor was this all, for a gentlewoman there reported his abduction of the “young plant” as his having taken a woman to live with him at Nijō, and her mistress was not at all pleased. He quite understood that she should feel as she did, since she knew nothing of the circumstances; but if only she had unburdened herself frankly to him like any ordinary woman, he might have explained things to her and calmed her fears, whereas in fact she was so intent on misinterpreting all he did that he could hardly be blamed for seeking refuge in dubious diversions. In her person he found nothing lacking or amiss. She was the first woman he had known, and he trusted that even if she failed for the present to appreciate his high regard, she would change her mind in time. He displayed his exceptional quality in the unswerving steadfastness of this faith.
The more Genji's young lady grew accustomed to him, the more she improved in manner and looks, and she snuggled up to him now as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He still kept her in the same distant wing, because he did not wish his household staff to know yet who she was; and there he had her room done up beautifully, visited her day and night, and gave her all sorts of lessons. He wrote out calligraphy models for her and had her practice, he felt, just as though he had taken in a daughter from elsewhere. He assigned her a household office and a staff of her own so as to have her properly looked after.
No one but Koremitsu could make out what he was up to. His Highness her father still knew nothing. When she remembered the past, as she often did, her grandmother was usually the one she missed. Genji's company took her mind off her sorrows, but although he sometimes stayed with her at night, he was more often taken up with calls here and there and would leave at dark, and then she would arouse all his tenderness by making it quite clear how much she wished he would not go. It so upset him to see her in low spirits, after he had spent two or three days at the palace or His Excellency's, that he felt as though he were responsible for a motherless child and hesitated to go out at all. Reports of all this greatly pleased His Reverence, despite the irregularity of the girl's situation. Whenever His Reverence performed a memorial service for her grandmother, Genji provided the finest offerings.
Genji was anxious for news of Fujitsubo and called at her Sanjō residence, to which she had withdrawn. He was entertained by such gentlewomen as Omyōbu, Chūnagon, and Nakatsukasa. It vexed him to be treated so obviously as a guest, but he swallowed his feelings and was chatting idly with them when His Highness of War11 arrived.
His Highness received Genji when he learned that he was there. Elegant and romantically languorous as His Highness was, Genji speculated privately about the pleasures of his company if he were a woman and, having a double reason to feel close to him, engaged him in intent conversation. His Highness for his part noted how much more open and easy Genji was than usual, liked his looks a great deal, and, being unaware that Genji was his son-in-law, indulged his roving fancy in the pleasure of imagining him, too, as a woman.
Genji was envious when at dark His Highness went in to his sister through her blinds. Long ago Genji's father had allowed him to talk with her in person rather than through go-betweens, and now he could only feel hurt that she kept him at such a distance.
“I have been remiss in failing to call upon you more often,” he said with stiff formality, “but unfortunately I am inclined to be neglectful in the absence of any pressing errand. Should you need me for any reason, I shall be pleased to place my-self at your service.” He then left. Ōmyōbu could devise nothing better for him, since plainly Her Highness was far less warmly disposed toward him than in the past, and her evident displeasure so shamed and distressed Ōmyōbu that all Genji's subsequent entreaties to her went for naught. How soon it was over! each lover cried silently, in an anguish that had no end.
Shōnagon, on the other hand, was astonished to see so happy a pair before her, and for this she felt that she must thank the blessings of the buddha to whom her late mistress had addressed so many prayers of concern for her granddaughter. The lady at His Excellency's was no doubt very grand indeed, and the many others whom Genji favored might easily cause trouble when the child was grown, but his special consideration for her charge was deeply reassuring.
On the last day of the month12 Genji had his young lady doff her mourning (“Now, now,” he said, “for your mother's mother three months will do”); but she had grown up without any other parent, and after that she wore not bright, showy colors but dress gowns of unfigured scarlet, purple, or golden yellow; and very smart she looked in them, too.
Chasing devils
Genji came around on his way to the morning salutation.13 “You are looking ever so grown-up this morning!”14 he said, with the most winning smile.
She was already busy setting up her dolls, laying out her collection of accessories on a pair of three-foot cabinets, and filling the room with an assemblage of little houses that Genji had made her. “Inuki broke this chasing out devils,15 and I am mending it,” she announced solemnly.
“How careless of her! I shall have it repaired for you straightaway. We are not supposed to say anything sad today,16 so you must not cry.”
As he left, his imposing presence amid his large retinue brought her and her gentlewomen out near the veranda to watch him go, after which she dressed up her “Genji” doll and had him set off for the palace.
“Do grow up a bit this year, at least.” Shōnagon wanted to chasten her for thinking only of her games. “A girl over ten should not be playing with dolls. Now you have a husband, you must be sweet and gentle with him, like a proper wife. You do not even like having me do your hair!”
So I have a husband, do I! The men all these women call their husbands are nothing to look at, but mine is a handsome young man! The idea was a revelation. Still, the addition of one more to the count of her years did seem to have made a difference. The household staff were taken aback whenever she turned out still to be a child, but they never imagined how innocently the two were sleeping together.
Genji as usual found the lady at His Excellency's dauntingly perfect when he withdrew there from the palace, and her lack of warmth prompted him to remark, “How happy I would be if this year you were at last to consent to engage with me a little!” But now that she knew he had brought a woman to live with him, she was convinced that he had lofty plans for the newcomer and undoubtedly thought him a sorrier embarrassment than ever.
With an effort she feigned ignorance and responded to his joviality after all in he
r own distinctive way. Four years older than he, she had a more composed dignity and a mature beauty that put his youth to shame. How could she be wanting? Obviously, Genji reflected, it is my own, dissolute behavior that has earned me her rejection. Her lofty pride at being the only daughter not just of any Minister but of the greatest of them all, and of no less than a Princess, moved her to condemn his every lapse, while he on his side kept wondering why he must defer to her so and keep trying to bring her round. Such were the distances that kept them apart.
Gentleman wearing a stone belt
His Excellency meanwhile deplored Genji's misconduct, but he still forgot his displeasure every time he saw his son-in-law and did all he could to please him. Early the next morning he looked in as Genji was preparing to leave, and when he found him dressed, he personally brought him a famous stone belt,17 went round behind him to straighten his robe, and all but held his shoes for him to step into. It was very touching.
“I look forward to wearing this at the privy banquet18 and other such occasions,” Genji said.
“Oh, I have better. I just thought this one a little unusual.” He insisted that Genji put it on. In fact, looking after Genji in every way was his pleasure in life, and he asked only to welcome such a man and see him off, no matter how rarely.
Genji set out on his round of New Year's calls, although it was not really long: His Majesty, the Heir Apparent, His Eminence, and then, of course, Fujitsubo at her Sanjō residence.
“Today again he is a wonder to behold,” Fujitsubo's gentlewomen observed to their mistress. “The more he matures, the more frighteningly beautiful he becomes!” Just a glimpse of him through her curtains threw her feelings into turmoil.