The lady of the misty moon remembered that fragile dream with great sadness. Her father had decided that her presentation to the Heir Apparent was to take place in the fourth month, and the prospect filled her with despair. Meanwhile her lover, who thought he knew how to pursue her if he wished, had not yet actually found out which sister she was, and besides, he hesitated to associate himself with a family from which he had nothing but censure. Then, a little after the twentieth of the third month, the Minister of the Right held an archery contest attended by many senior nobles and Princes and followed immediately by a party for the wisteria blossoms.
The cherry blossom season was over, but two of His Excellency's trees must have consented to wait,22 for they were in late and glorious bloom. He had had his recently rebuilt residence specially decorated for the Princesses’ donning of the train.23 Everything was in the latest style, in consonance with His Excellency's own florid taste.
His Excellency had extended an invitation to Genji as well, one day when they met at court, and Genji's failure to appear disappointed him greatly, for to his mind this absence cast a pall over the gathering. He therefore sent the Fourth Rank Lieutenant to fetch him, with the message,
“If in their gay hues the flowers that grace my home were like all others,
why should I so eagerly be waiting to welcome you?”
Genji, at the palace, told His Majesty. “He certainly is pleased with himself!” His Majesty remarked with a smile. “Go then, since he seems so eager to have you. After all, he is bringing the Princesses up there, so you are hardly a stranger to him.”24 Genji dressed with great care, and the sun had set by the time he arrived to claim his welcome.
He wore a grape-colored train-robe under a cherry blossom dress cloak of sheer figured silk.25 Among the formal cloaks worn by everyone else, his costume displayed the extravagant elegance of a Prince, and his grand entry was a sensation. The very blossoms were abashed, and the gathering took some time to regain its animation.
He played beautifully, and it was quite late by the time he left again, on the pretext of having drunk so much that he was not well. The First and Third Princesses were in the main house, and he went to sit by the door that opened from there toward the east. The lattice shutters were up, and all the women were near the veranda, since this was the corner where the wisteria was blooming. Their sleeves spilled showily under the blinds as though for the New Year's mumming, but Genji disapproved and only found his thoughts going to Fujitsubo.
“I felt unwell to begin with,” he said, “and then I was obliged to drink until now I am quite ill. May I be allowed to hide in Their Highnesses' company, if it is not too forward of me to ask?” He thrust himself halfway through the blind in the double doorway.
“Oh, no, please!” one cried. “Surely it is for little people like us to claim protection from the great!”
Genji saw that these ladies, although not of commanding rank, were not ordinary young gentlewomen either. Their stylish distinction was clear. The fragrance of incense hung thickly in the air, and the rustling of silks conveyed ostentatious wealth, for this was a household that preferred modish display to the deeper appeal of discreet good taste. The younger sisters had no doubt taken possession of the doorway because Their Highnesses wished to look out from there.
He should not have accepted the challenge, but it pleased him, and he wondered with beating heart which one she was. “Alas,” he sang as innocently as could be, still leaning against a pillar, “my fan is mine no more, for I have met with woe…”26
“What a very odd man from Koma!” The one who answered seemed not to understand him.
Another said nothing but only sighed and sighed. He leaned toward her, took her hand through her standing curtain, and said at a guess,
“How sadly I haunt the slopes of Mount Irusa, where the crescent sets,
yearning just to see again the faint moon that I saw then!
Why should that be?”
This must have been too much for her, because she replied,
“Were it really so that your heart goes straight and true, would you lose your way
even in the dark of night, when no moon is in the sky?”
Yes, it was her voice. He was delighted, though at the same time…27
9
AOI
Heart-to-Heart
The plant aoi (more precisely, futaba aoi), sacred to the Kamo Shrine, grows on the forest floor and consists of a pair of broad, heartshaped leaves that spring from a single stem. At the Kamo Festival people decorated their headdresses and carriages with it, as well as with laurel (katsura). In its Heian spelling (afuhi), the word can also be read to mean “day of (lovers') meeting.” This wordplay and the plant's configuration suggest the translation “heart-to-heart.”
As the chapter title, Aoi refers particularly to an exchange of poems at the Festival between Genji and the amorous Dame of Staff. Seeing Genji with someone else (Murasaki) in his carriage, she writes,
“Ah, it is too hard! Today when our heart-to-heart told me that the god
blessed our meeting, I perceive that another sports those leaves.”
He replies,
“Yours, so I would say, was a very naughty wish to sport heart-to-heart,
when this meeting place today gathers men from countless clans.”
Aoi must have been accepted as the chapter title because of the incident that takes place at Kamo the day before; and since the person responsible for the incident is above all Genji's wife, she is known to readers as Aoi.
RELATIONSHIP TO EARLIER CHAPTERS
There is a gap of two years or so between “Under the Cherry Blossoms” and “Heart-to-Heart.” In the interval Genji's father has abdicated; Suzaku, his son by the Kokiden Consort, has become Emperor; and Fujitsubo's son by Genji has become Heir Apparent.
PERSONS
Genji, the Commander of the Right, age 22 to 23
Her Majesty, the Empress, 27 to 28 (Fujitsubo)
His Eminence, the Retired Emperor, Genji's father (Kiritsubo In)
The Empress Mother, the Kokiden Consort
The Heir Apparent, Fujitsubo's son, 3 to 4 (Reizei)
The Rokujō Haven, 29 to 30 (Rokujō no Miyasudokoro)
The High Priestess of Ise, her daughter, 13 to 14 (Akikonomu)
The lady of the bluebells, Her Highness (Asagao)
Genji's wife, 26 (Aoi)
The High Priestess of Kamo, third daughter of Kokiden (Saiin)
Her Highness, mother of Aoi and Tō no Chūjō (Ōmiya)
His Highness of Ceremonial, Asagao's father (Shikibukyō no Miya)
Genji's young lady, 14 to 15 (Murasaki)
Shōnagon, Murasaki's nurse
A Dame of Staff, Genji's aged admirer, early sixties (Gen no Naishi)
His Excellency, the Minister of the Left, father of Aoi and Tō no Chūjō, 56 to 57 (Sadaijin)
The Third Rank Captain, Aoi's brother (Tō no Chūjō)
The son of Genji and Aoi, birth to 2 (Yūgiri)
Chūnagon, a gentlewoman at His Excellency's
Ateki, a page girl of Aoi
Koremitsu, Genji's foster brother and confidant
Ben, Shōnagon's daughter, in the service of Murasaki
The Mistress of the Wardrobe (Oborozukiyo)
The Minister of the Right, her father, grandfather of the Emperor (Udaijin)
The change of reign made all things a burden for Genji, and perhaps his rise in rank1 explains why he now renounced his lighter affairs, so that for many he multiplied the sorrows of neglect even while he himself, as though in retribution, continually lamented his own love's cruelty.2 She was so constantly at His Eminence's side that she might as well have been a commoner, and this seemed to displease the Empress Mother, who kept to the palace and left her in peace. Now and again His Eminence might hold a beautiful concert or something of the sort, one that set the whole court talking, so that he shone more brightly than ever; but he sadly missed the Heir Apparent,
whose lack of effective support worried him, and his request that Genji look after him moved the new Commander to mingled joy and dismay.
Oh, yes, the late Heir Apparent's daughter by the Rokujō Haven had been named High Priestess of Ise, and her mother, who doubted Genji's devotion, had quickly invoked concern over her daughter's youth as a reason for considering going down to Ise herself.
His Eminence remarked to Genji on learning of her plan, “His Late Highness thought very highly of her and showed her every attention, and I find it intolerable that you should treat her as casually as you might any other woman. I consider the High Priestess my own daughter, and I should therefore appreciate it if you were to avoid offending her mother, both for her father's sake and for mine. Such wanton self-indulgence risks widespread censure.” The displeasure on his countenance obliged Genji to agree, and he kept a humble silence.
“Never cause a woman to suffer humiliation,” His Eminence continued. “Treat each with tact and avoid provoking her anger.”
Genji withdrew contritely from his presence, terrified to imagine his rebuke were he to learn the full impudence of his own inadmissible passion.
That even His Eminence should know of his misconduct and express himself on the subject showed how painfully the lady's name as well as his own had been compromised in the affair, and he guiltily redoubled his attentions toward her, but he still showed no sign of acknowledging their tie openly. She herself remained constantly constrained by shame over the discrepancy between their ages, and he countered with matching formality. The affair had reached His Eminence's ears by now and was well known to one and all, but she still suffered acutely from his relative indifference toward her.
News of all this confirmed the lady of the bluebells3 in her resolve that nothing of the kind should happen to her, and she rarely gave him the simplest reply. Still, he often thought how unusual it was of her, and how like her, too, not to dismiss him outright.
At His Excellency's there was no praise for Genji's obviously roving fancy, but the lady there did not hold it deeply against him, perhaps because the way he almost flaunted it was beneath comment. For a very touching reason she was sadly unwell.4 Genji felt wonder and sympathy for her. Everyone was pleased, but her parents had penances done for fear of rejoicing too soon.5 These things kept him fully occupied, and while he never forgot the lady at Rokujō he must have failed more often than not to visit her.
The High Priestess of the Kamo Shrine resigned at this time, and her successor was His Eminence's third daughter by the Empress Mother. This Princess's parents were sorry to see her life take this odd turn, since she was a great favorite of theirs, but no other would do. The attendant rites, although not unusual, were done with great pomp and animation. When the time for the Festival came,6 the customary events received many embellishments, and there were all sorts of sights to see. Her Highness's personal distinction seemed to explain it all.
On the day of the Purification7 the senior nobles took part in the requisite numbers,8 but only the best-looking and most highly regarded among them. They were all perfect in the color of their train-robes, in the pattern of their outer trousers,9 and even in their choice of saddle and mount. Genji took part as well, by His Eminence's special decree. The sightseeing carriages had been made ready well in advance. Ichijō Avenue was packed and terribly noisy. The viewing stands put up here and there were elaborately adorned, each according to its owner's taste, and even the sleeves spilling from under their blinds were a wonder to behold.
The lady at His Excellency's rarely went out for such events, and she had not even thought of going this time, since she was indisposed, but her younger gentlewomen protested, “Oh, come, my lady, we would not enjoy stealing off there on our own! All the world longs for a glimpse of his lordship the Commander10 at the Festival today, and they say even the poorest woodcutters will be there to see him. Some people are even bringing their families from far-off provinces! My lady, you simply cannot miss it!”
Carriage and shaft bench
“You really are feeling better lately,” Her Highness remarked to her daughter when she heard, “and your women seem so disappointed.” The household therefore suddenly learned that she would see the Festival after all.
The sun was already high when she set out with as little fuss as possible. Her imposing train of carriages halted, since by now every place was taken and it had nowhere to go. Her grooms fixed on a spot occupied by many fine ladies' carriages but free of any press of attendants, and they began having them cleared away. Among them were two basketwork carriages, a little worn but with elegant blinds through which spilled a hint of sleeves, trains, and jackets in the loveliest colors worn by those seated deep within. The occupant clearly wished to go unrecognized. “These carriages are not ones you can push aside this way!” her grooms insisted loudly, and they would not let them be touched, but by now the young men on both sides were drunk and rowdy and out of control. The more sober personal escort from His Excellency's warned them in vain.
The Rokujō Haven, the mother of the High Priestess of Ise (for it was she), had come secretly for relief from her troubles. Her people said nothing about who she was, but the other side of course knew her. “Take no such nonsense from the likes of them! They must be counting on protection from his lordship the Commander!” shouted the men from His Excellency's. Some of them, Genji's own men, were disturbed to see what was happening, but they feigned indifference because it would have been too difficult to intervene.
By the time all the carriages were in place, the Rokujō Haven's had been pushed behind the least of the gentlewomen's, and she had no view at all. She was not only outraged but extremely put out that she had been recognized after all. With her shaft benches broken and her carriage shafts now resting willy-nilly on the wheel hubs of other carriages, she looked so ridiculous that she rued her folly and wondered helplessly why she had ever come. She would gladly have left without seeing the procession, but there was no room for her to get out, and her resolve must have faltered after all when she heard cries of “Here they come!” and understood that her own cruel lover would be passing by. And pass on by he did, to her bitter chagrin, without so much as a glance her way.11
Beneath the blinds of carriages far more elaborately done up than usual, many eager ladies had indeed put forth a bright display that Genji affected to ignore, but on some he bestowed a sidelong glance and a smile. The carriages from His Excellency's stood out, and he rode gravely past them. The profound deference and respect shown by his own retinue brought home to the Rokujō Haven the sting of her ignominious defeat.
“One fugitive glimpse as of a face reflected in a hallowed stream
tells me with new cruelty that I matter not at all!”
She did not like being seen to weep, but she knew how much she would have regretted missing the dazzling beauty and presence that on this great occasion shone more brilliantly than ever.
The gentlemen of Genji's escort were perfect in dress and deportment, each as his station warranted, and the senior nobles among them especially so, but the brightness of that single light seemed to eclipse them all. It was unusual for a Commander to be specially guarded by a privy gentleman from the Palace Guards, but this procession was so exceptional that that office was filled for once by someone from the Right Palace Guards. The rest of Genji's retinue was equally brilliant in looks and finery, until it seemed as though the very trees and grasses must bow down before a beauty so universally admired. The way quite respectable women in deep hats12 or nuns to whom the world was dross came lurching and stumbling along to see him would ordinarily have merited cries of horrified disapproval, except that today no one could blame them. Women with puckered mouths and gowns over their hair13 gaped up at him, palms joined or pressed to their foreheads in idiot adoration, while peasant simpletons grinned beatifically, innocent of any thought of how they looked themselves. Even miserable Governors' daughters, girls beneath his notice, were there in cleverly tricked-out
carriages, preening and congratulating themselves. Yes, there were many amusing sights to see. Of course, there were also many whom Genji had secretly favored and who now could only sigh that they meant so little to him.
His Highness of Ceremonial was watching from a stand. The older he grows, the more devastatingly handsome he becomes, he said to himself with a feeling of vague dread; surely he must catch the eye even of the gods! To his daughter,14 who well knew from the letters she had had from him all these years how little his sentiments resembled those of other men, Genji would no doubt have been pleasing enough even if quite ordinary in looks, and she wondered as she felt his attraction how he could possibly be so dazzlingly beautiful as well. Still, she desired no greater intimacy with him. Her young gentlewomen praised him until she wished they would stop.
There were no sightseers from His Excellency's on the day of the Festival proper.15 With shock and dismay Genji received from his men a full account of the quarrel the previous day over the placement of the carriages. Alas, he thought, despite her dignity she lacks kindness and tact. She cannot really have meant this to happen, but I suppose she sees so little reason why the two of them should think warmly of each other that those men of hers then took it on themselves to act as they did. The Haven is so fastidious and reserved by nature—it must have been a terrible experience for her.
He anxiously went straight to call on her, but her daughter, the Ise Priestess, was still at home, and she invoked respect for the sacred sakaki tree to turn him away.16 He quite understood, yet he could not help whispering to himself, “But why? I do wish they would both be less prickly with one another!”