A COURT LADY OF OLD JAPAN

By L. ADAMS BECK

IDDEN in the secrets of exquisite brush charac- ters is a book that will delight the world when the light of an alien day shall shine upon it)a

book so enchanting that those would not willingly wait who have tasted its charm in the excerpts translated by :he great Japanese scholars, Mr. Aston and Mr. Sansom. Others have given a passage here and there; but these small treasures lie buried in the transactions of learned societies. Since a complete rendering of the book will appear before long, it may be well that readers should have a foretaste of what will awake fresh interest in the wonderful art and literature of the Far East.

In a country like Japan, where change terrible in its swiftness is sweeping the old landmarks away, those who love the past will cling the more tenderly to what time has spared. It is an exquisite delight to ﬁnd some writ- ten word that breathes life into the delicately faded screens and the old, old silken pictures perpetuating the iays that gave birth to such beauty of life and manners, ;:1d are now but a memory. Nearly a thousand years ;go in the Heian period, the Japanese Emperor Ichijo ';eld his court in City-Royal (Kyoto), surrounded by "-romen and Buddhist priests, the slave of ritual and of rourt intrigue, a gorgeous shadow of power. In the rater world the famous Minamoto and Taira feuds were raging, but in the seclusion of the palace of City—Royal, ill was peace. For men a poem was more important ihan a protocol, and to be lovely and gracious was the ‘Thole duty of woman. Loveliness, however, included :::3re than mere beauty of face; the précieuses of France ”‘:‘I‘€ outmatched by those of the court of Kyoto. These .;dies were many of them of very high accomplishment .: literature; and an intimate knowledge of the Chinese ifld native classics was the least that was expected of i':em. Accordingly, the ﬁrmament of the “dwellers ;'::»ove the clouds”, as court circles were called in Japan, Tras brilliant with many stars of varying magnitude, all revolving about the Emperor and his consort. It was at ‘.:is time that the Lady Shikibu Murasaki wrote her fzrnous novel concerning the amours of Prince Genji,

I ‘he Don Juan of Japan: and if a few s-avants have dis-

is

::ssed it as tedious because it is long, that will not be the irerdict of those who value a record that no other hand :*:‘.1ld have given of the rites and ceremonies of ancient Japan, combined with a picture of manners and a dissec- ‘inn of the hearts of men and women that can never lose .15 interest while sex is a factor in human life. This ::»'cel should certainly be translated as a whole, for of '.:e Genji M onogatari, as it is called, only a few chapters Lave been given to the western world.

The Lady Murasaki was a poet, too, of no mean order. &':e was celebrated for her impromptus, especially those "\r'_ich touched a delicate situation delicately. I venture *: translate one of these rers de société written on the occa-

:w:;:: of meeting one of her lovers at night.

“I met him in the night, But did I? Could I say If it were he or no? How could I see aright? For the moon hid her light Behind the clouds ere I could see her go.”

Such elegant trifles were handed about amidst immense applause, and more than one important oﬁice at court was the reward of this light fencing. A note of more real feeling is touched by a rival poet, the Lady Tzumi Shi- kibu. This, too, I translate, though there is a sharper pang in the original than I am able to retain.

“Soon I must die, but oh, shall there not be One hour of radiant meeting ere I part? That, where I go so far, I take with me Our passion’s memory within my heart.”

But among these and many more names, one stands supreme—that of the Lady Sei Shonagon, as she was called at court, from the titulary office she held. She was maid of honor to the Empress, and she amused her- self and others by keeping a sort of diary, or record, which has become a classic. It is known as The Pillow Sketchbook, from its having been written on the sheets of white paper that cover a wooden sleeping-pillow in Japan. A Very human document it is, a light-hearted diurnal of the happenings of many days in the sunshine of the Emperor’s tremendous presence and under the protection of the very gracious Empress. The book, so lightly undertaken, has become of extremest value as an authority on the lost and lovely culture of the Fujiwara period.

Those qualiﬁed to judge commend the literary per- fection of her style and her sure command of the resources of the Japanese language, but what all will value is the humor that shines through all she writes. It makes the book as modern as if it had been written yester- day, instead of during a reign that lasted from A. D. 987 to 1011.

In the elegant brush characters of China she wrote her impressions of the life round her—of the magniﬁcent daimyo whose notice was distinction, as they stalked by in trailing trousers and stiff-winged sleeves, and of the court ladies who were her friends and rivals. Like a faint but very clear echo her voice comes across the cen- turies and revives a life of grace such as the world will probably never see again.

There was no Tokyo thenwits time had. not yet come—— and Kyoto was the capital, lovely in its well—watered plain with the sacred mountain, Hiei-zan, rising above it and the Kamo River, good for evening fetes and lute- playing, and full-reﬁected moons in the waters rippling by the palaces.

There is no place more beautiful than City—Royal—no place where the delicate, faded aroma of the past clings more spiritually to temple and shrine. The golden notes of the great Buddhist bell, announcing the transience of life, ﬂoat solemnly over the small, clustering houses and through the woods; and memories drift in them like motes in the sunbeam.

“All things are transient. They, being born, must die,

And being born are dead, And being dead are glad to be at rest.”

So it tolls; and Sei Shonagon’s story does but give the memories of City-Royal a moment’s life before they pass away into silence.

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