Early Modern Japanese Literature: An Anthology, 1600–1900
Page 90
The main object of the monogatari, then, is understanding what it means to be moved by things, and hence it often opposes the teachings of Confucianism and Buddhism. When a man is moved by something, whether for good or bad, right or wrong, his feelings may contradict reason. Although it is improper thus to be moved, man’s emotions do not always follow the dictates of his mind. They have a power of their own and are difficult to suppress. For instance, Genji’s attraction to Utsusemi, Oborozukiyo, and Fujitsubo and his affairs with these ladies are, from the Buddhist and Confucian points of view, the most sinful and immoral acts imaginable. However good Genji might be in other respects, Buddhists and Confucianists would find it difficult to call him a “good person.” But in the monogatari, his sinfulness and immorality are given no particular prominence; rather, his great depth of feeling is described again and again. Genji is depicted as the very model of the “good person,” possessing every good quality imaginable. This, then, is the main intent of the monogatari, and the good and evil it depicts is different from that in Confucian and Buddhist works.
Yet the monogatari does not present such immorality as good. The evil in Genji’s deeds would be plain to see even if it were never mentioned. Because there are enough books discussing such sins, there is no need to go so far afield as to a monogatari for information of this sort. The monogatari is not so inflexible a thing as the Confucian and Buddhist Ways; it does not require that man leave behind earthly lust in order to achieve enlightenment or that he “regulate his country, his family, and his person.” It is simply a story of life in this world and so leaves aside questions of good and evil. Rather than concern itself with such matters as these, it depicts the virtues of knowing what it is to be moved by things.
In this respect, the monogatari may be likened to the man who wishes to enjoy the lotus flower and so must keep a store of muddy water, foul and filthy though it may be. It is not the mud—the illicit love depicted in the monogatari—that we admire; it is the flower that it nurtures—the flower of the emotions [mono no awaré] it arouses. Genji’s conduct is like the lotus flower that grows in muddy water yet blooms with a beauty and fragrance unlike any other in the world. Nothing is said about the water’s filth; the monogatari concentrates instead on Genji’s deep compassion and his awareness of what it means to be moved by things and holds him up as the model of the good man.
[Kinsei bungaku ron shū, NKBT 94: 93–94, 96–97, 99–103; MNZ 4: 183–186, 191, 197–199, translated by Thomas Harper]
THE SPIRIT OF THE GODS (NAOBI NO MITAMA, 1771)
The Spirit of the Gods, consisting of a main text interspersed with extensive notes, occupies a prominent place among Norinaga’s writings as the general introduction to the Commentary on the Record of Ancient Matters (Kojikiden), his lifework. In the following excerpt from The Spirit of the Gods, Norinaga argues that the true Way—the normative system governing the world—is a product of the gods of Japan, whose deeds are recorded in the Kojiki (Record of Ancient Matters). He conceives of these gods as existing on a plane that transcends the limited powers of human understanding. They are the source of bad as well as good things in the world, but as humans we cannot pass judgment on them or seek the reasons for what they do but must simply submit to them with an attitude of passive resignation. For Norinaga, a proper recognition of divine authority serves to guarantee social and political harmony. He attributes the stability of Japan’s single imperial line to the absolute legitimacy that the emperors had from being descended from the gods, specifically from the sun goddess Amaterasu Ōmikami. He argues that because China lacks such a divine source of authority, power is simply held by whoever can succeed as a master of realpolitik at any given moment, a situation that invariably leads to constant strife and usurpation. Norinaga recognizes that Chinese political thought also invokes a higher source of legitimacy, in the form of the notion that a ruler is granted a “mandate from heaven” to rule, but he sees this theory as nothing more than a fiction designed to conceal the exercise of power. He furthermore attacks this and other foreign theories, such as the Buddhist idea of karmic retribution, for their attempts to impose a rational framework on all events, with the bad always being punished and the good always being rewarded. Norinaga’s view of Chinese history is similar to that expressed by Kamo no Mabuchi in Thoughts on the Nation (Kokui kō, 1765), and his theory of the Way as a creation of the Japanese gods challenges Ogyū Sorai’s view that the Way is an invention of the human sage-kings of ancient China.
What follows is a discussion of the Way:
The august imperial country is the august country in which the awesome august divine ancestor Amaterasu Ōmikami30 came into being.
The reason this country is superior to all other countries is, first and foremost, apparent from this fact. Of all countries, not one fails to receive the august beneficence of this august goddess.
The august goddess held up the heavenly symbols in her august hands.31
These are the three divine treasures that have been transmitted as symbols of the throne through the many imperial reigns.
She decreed that the country be ruled eternally by her own august descendants.
That the succession of the lofty throne of the heavenly sun would be as immutable as heaven and earth was established at this point.
It was established that as far as the heavenly clouds trail and as far as the toad ranges,32 this would be the country under the august governance of the imperial descendants of Amaterasu Ōmikami. Within the realm there were no disruptive gods nor any disobedient humans.
What lowly person would turn against the emperor, however many reigns may pass? Alas, during the numerous imperial reigns, there was occasionally a despicable one who did rebel, but in accordance with the precedent of the age of the gods, the emperor would instantly destroy him with a brilliant display of his august might.
Until the last of countless imperial reigns, the emperors will be the august descendants of the august goddess.
The emperors of the many imperial reigns are, in other words, the august descendants of Amaterasu Ōmikami. Therefore they are called the august descendants of the heavenly goddess, or the august descendants of the sun. . . .
To refer to how there must be a principle underlying things, or to various teachings, as this “Way” or that “Way,” is a practice of foreign countries.
Foreign countries are not the august country of Amaterasu Ōmikami, so they do not have stable rulers. Gods proliferate there like flies in summer and cause disruption, so people’s hearts are wicked and customs are disordered. Even a lowly servant can instantly become a ruler if he seizes the country, so those above are wary of being overthrown by those below, and those below watch for those above to be off guard and plot to seize power. They regard each other with hostility, so since ancient times it has been difficult to govern. In those countries some displayed authority and intelligence, won over the people, seized countries held by others, took successful measures to avoid being overthrown themselves, governed well for some time, and served as models for later ages. In China they refer to such people as “sages.” In times of chaos, people become practiced at war, and therefore it is only natural that many great generals emerge. In the same way, when people make great efforts to govern a country that has wicked customs and is difficult to govern, in each generation they devise various methods and become practiced in them, leading to the emergence of clever rulers. But it is mistaken to imagine these so-called sages to be as superior as the gods and to naturally possess miraculous powers. And yet they call what is created and established by these sages a “Way.” When one considers the essence of what is called a “Way” in China, one finds that it consists of nothing more than the two elements of trying to seize others’ countries and trying to keep one’s own country from being seized. . . .
All things in heaven and earth are in accordance with the august will of the gods.
All things in this world, such as the changing of the seasons, the
falling of the rain, and the gusting of the wind, as well as the various good and bad things that happen to countries and people, all are entirely the august works of the gods. Among the gods there are good ones and bad ones. Their actions are in accordance with their different natures, so they cannot be understood with ordinary reason. But all the people of the world, whether wise or foolish, are completely deluded by the theories of the Ways of foreign countries, so they are unable to understand this. This surely ought to be comprehended by scholars of matters of the imperial country from their reading of the ancient writings. Why is it that even these people are not able to understand? In foreign countries all the good and bad things that happen are either attributed to karmic retribution according to the Way of the Buddha or else thought to be, according to the various Ways of China, acts of heaven that are referred to as the “mandate of heaven.”33 All these theories are mistaken. The theories of the Way of the Buddha are well understood by many scholars, so I will not discuss them now. But even intelligent people are deluded by the Chinese theory of the mandate of heaven, and none realizes its error, so I will clarify it here. The mandate of heaven is a pretext concocted by the sages of ancient China in order to be absolved of their crime of killing rulers and seizing countries. . . .
There is nothing to be done about the violence of the august hearts of the Magatsubi34 gods, and this is extremely sad.
It is entirely due to the august will of these gods that there is harm in the world, that everything cannot be proper and in accordance with reason, and that there are many wicked things. When they are extremely violent, sometimes they cannot be contained even by the august power of Amaterasu Ōmikami and Takaki no Ōkami,35 so even less can be done with the power of humans. The fact that many things go against ordinary reason, such as good people meeting misfortune and bad people prospering, is all because of the deeds of these gods. In foreign countries, though, there is no correct transmission of the age of the gods, so they do not understand this. Instead, they offer the theory of the mandate of heaven and believe that everything is established through proper reason. This is very foolish. . . .
When we inquire about what kind of a Way this Way is, it is not the natural Way of heaven and earth.
Understand this well, and do not mistakenly think it to be the same as the ideas of those such as Lao Zi and Zhuang Zi in China.
Nor is it a Way created by humans.36 Rather, this Way was created by the august spirit of the awesome god Takamimusubi.
All occurrences and things in the world came into being through the august spirit of this great god.
The divine ancestors Izanagi and Izanami initiated this Way.37
All occurrences and things in the world began with these two gods.
It is the Way that Amaterasu Ōmikami inherited, preserved, and passed on. For this reason it is called the Way of the gods. . . .
The meaning of this Way will become clear if one studies well the Kojiki and then the various other ancient writings. But the hearts of many generations of scholars have been bewitched by the Magatsubi gods, so they are deluded by Chinese writings. All their thoughts and words follow the spirit of Buddhism or of China, and they are unable to awaken to the spirit of the true Way.
. . . The teachings of this august country have been transmitted unchanged since the age of the gods, without the slightest trace of human cleverness, so they may sound shallow on the surface. But in truth they are limitless and are imbued with a deep and mysterious principle that cannot be understood by the human intellect. The failure to understand this comes from being deluded by Chinese writings. As long as one is unable to escape from these writings, even if one exhausts one’s energy in study for a hundred or a thousand years, it will be a vain effort providing no clarification of the Way. All the ancient books have been written in Chinese, though, so one should also have a general knowledge of matters of that country, and in order to learn characters and the like, one should study Chinese books if one has spare time. As long as one is steadfast and unwavering in one’s grasp of the spirit of the imperial country, this will cause no harm.
[MNZ 9: 49–55, 57–59, 61, introduction and translation by Peter Flueckiger]
FIRST STEPS IN THE MOUNTAINS (UIYAMABUMI, 1798)
Norinaga wrote First Steps in the Mountains near the end of his life, after completing his monumental Commentary on the Record of Ancient Matters. Consisting of a main text with notes, it gives students guidelines to studying the Japanese classics, offering advice on not only the texts to study but also the methodologies and attitudes necessary to make scholarship a lifetime pursuit. In the passage translated here, Norinaga discusses the relationship between the two main divisions of his scholarship: literary studies and the study of the ancient Way. He puts his primary emphasis on the ancient Way but sees poetry and monogatari as indispensable to assimilating the ancient elegance that lies at the core of this Way. For this reason he criticizes those scholars who regard poetry as irrelevant to the Way, as well as those who ignore the Way and simply pursue poetry for the sake of pleasure.
By composing one’s own poetry and constantly reading monogatari, one comes to know the elegant style of the ancients. This is, of course, useful for learning poetry, but it is also very helpful for carrying out scholarship that clarifies the ancient Way.
All people should know the elegant style. Those who do not know it do not know mono no awaré and are heartless people. Such knowledge of the elegant style comes from composing poetry and reading monogatari. Knowledge of the elegant sentiments of the ancients and of everything about the elegance of the world in ancient times is a stepping-stone to knowing the ancient Way.
When we look at scholars today, though, those who concentrate on studying the Way are, as I said earlier, mostly just entangled in the Chinese type of argumentation and reasoning. They dismiss the composition of poetry, considering it a mere frivolity, and do not see poetic anthologies as worth opening and reading. They know nothing of the elegant sentiments of the ancients, so they are unable to know anything about the ancient Way that they purport to study. This is the Way of the gods in name only and is in fact just the thought of foreign countries, so in reality it is not the study of the Way.
Conversely, some people compose poetry and prose and have a fondness for the past but are simply caught up in surface elegance while neglecting the Way and paying no attention to it. So while they long for the past in all matters, enjoying ancient clothing and furnishings and becoming engrossed in ancient writings, these all are nothing more than elegant pastimes for them.
[MNZ 1: 6–7, 29; NST 40: 516, 539–540, introduction and translation by Peter Flueckiger]
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1. Rikugei refers to the six arts to be mastered by the Confucian gentleman: etiquette, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics.
2. These quotations, as well as the following comments on the effect of poetry on warriors and on relations between the sexes, are from the kana (Japanese) and mana (Chinese) prefaces to the Kokinshū. The comment on “believing in baseless theories” refers to the fact that the two prefaces to the Kokinshū draw heavily on the Great Preface to the Book of Songs.
3. Another term for makurakotoba, or pillow words, a type of poetic epithet that modifies the following word.
4. Arimaro appears to be referring here to the use of kakekotoba, or pivot words, a punning technique in waka.
5. The implication is that the term “Way” (michi) properly refers to teachings that provide a normative standard for behavior, a function that, according to Arimaro, poetry does not serve.
6. In this section the term uta is translated alternately as “song” and “poetry,” depending on the context. Both English terms are relevant, as Munetake’s argument is based on the idea that poetry, as something that was originally sung, belongs by nature among the “rites and music” used by the ancient sage-kings to govern.
7. The legendary sage-kings of ancient China.
9. Zheng and Wei were feudal states of the Spring and Autumn period (722–482 B.C.E.) known for their lewd songs. Mulberry bushes have an erotic connotation in Chinese poetry as a site for illicit liaisons.
10. Shinano Province is in present-day Nagano Prefecture.
11. That is, they imitate old poetry. Mabuchi advocates imitating the Man‘yōshū, so he is not necessarily against all imitation of old poetry, but here he is criticizing people who, instead of composing based on what they actually feel, simply express conventional sentiments in imitation of the Kokinshū and other later poetry.
12. A metaphor for kokoro (heart).
13. A metaphor for kotoba (words).
14. In the Nihon shoki, Ishikoritobe is the goddess who crafted the mirror used to lure out Amaterasu when she hid in a cave. In the Kojiki this goddess appears under the name Ishikoridome no mikoto. The mirror she created is said to have later become one of the three imperial regalia.
15. In the Nihon shoki, Itakeru no Mikoto is the god who sowed the seeds of trees throughout Japan.
16. Continuing the earlier metaphor, these represent the ideal heart and words of ancient Japan, which, according to Mabuchi, have been passed down in the ancient texts that he values.
17. “Leaves from other trees” is a metaphor for foreign ideas; the rest of the sentence refers to the general difficulty of interpreting ancient texts.
18. Mabuchi is referring to the capital at Fujiwara (694–710, when it was moved to Nara), not to the aristocratic clan of the same name.