Seven Japanese Tales

by Junichiro Tanizaki

  Now, Shunkin frankly admitted to her parents that she was pregnant, but refused to name her lover. Pressed for an answer, she declared: “We promised each other to keep it a secret.”

  When they asked if the man was Sasuke she denied it indignantly. “Don't be absurd!” she said. “An apprentice like that?”

  Naturally anyone would have suspected Sasuke, but Shunkin's parents, remembering what she had said last year, thought it most unlikely. Then too, a relationship of that kind could scarcely have been such a well-kept secret: an inexperienced boy and girl would have given themselves away. Furthermore, ever since Sasuke began studying under her teacher he had no reason to stay up late with her as he used to. Sometimes Shunkin would help him review his lessons; except for that, she was always the haughty young lady, treating him merely as her guide. None of the employees had the slightest suspicion of any misconduct between them — indeed, they felt that Shunkin was too distant, too cold toward him.

  But surely Sasuke will know something about it, her parents thought. The man must have been one of the other pupils. Sasuke, however, denied any knowledge of the matter. “I can't imagine who it could be,” he said. Still, he seemed so nervous and guilty-looking that they became increasingly suspicious. As they questioned him more closely he began to contradict himself. At last he said: “If I tell you, she'll be angry with me!” And he burst into tears.

  “No, no!” they insisted. “It's kind of you to want to protect her, but why do you disobey our orders? If you keep it secret you'll only make things worse. Do tell us the man's name!” Despite their urging, he refused to answer. Finally they realized that the man in question was Sasuke. He talked as if he had promised Shunkin never to confess, and yet wanted them to know that he was guilty.

  Troubled as they were, Shunkin's parents felt relieved. What's done is done, they thought; at least we can be glad that it's Sasuke. But in that case why had she tried to deceive them last year, when they were encouraging her to marry him? Young girls were certainly unpredictable! Now that things had gone this far it would be best for her to marry as soon as possible, before people began to talk. But when they brought the subject up with Shunkin once more, she again refused. “I don't want to hear another word about it,” she said, coloring. “As I told you last year, I wouldn't have a man like Sasuke. I'm grateful to you for taking pity on me, but even if I am handicapped I won't stoop so low as to marry a servant. Besides, it would be an insult to the father of my child.”

  “Well then, who is the father?”

  “Please don't ask me that,” she replied. “Anyway, I don't intend to marry him.”

  By now Sasuke's words seemed more baffling than ever. What were they to believe? Still, they could hardly think that she had been involved with anyone else; she must have denied it out of sheer embarrassment. Feeling sure that she would confess before long, Shunkin's parents decided to give up any further attempt at questioning her and sent her off immediately to the hot-spring resort at Arima to have her baby.

  That was in May of Shunkin's sixteenth year. Sasuke stayed behind in Osaka; and she left with two maids for Arima, where she remained until her safe delivery of a baby boy in October. Since the baby's face was the very image of Sasuke's, it seemed that at last the mystery had been solved. But still Shunkin refused to listen to any talk of marriage — and denied that Sasuke was the father. When the two were forced to confront each other before her parents, she drew herself up stiffly and demanded: “Sasuke, what have you said to create suspicion? It's causing me a lot of trouble, and I wish you'd make it perfectly clear that you're innocent.”

  At this warning, Sasuke shrank back in alarm, and exclaimed: “How could I be involved with my master's daughter? From the time I was a child I've owed everything to the Mozuya family — I wouldn't dream of behaving so ungratefully! It's really absurd!” Thus he joined Shunkin in wholehearted denial. The matter seemed as far from a solution as ever.

  “But don't you have any feeling for your own baby?” her parents asked Shunkin. “After all, we can hardly rear a fatherless child. If you positively refuse to marry we have no choice but to give the child away.”

  Shunkin was unmoved by this appeal to her maternal instincts. “Please do give it to anyone you like,” she replied calmly. “Since I shall never marry, it would only be a burden to me.”

  Soon the baby was sent out for adoption. (That was in 1845, and nothing is known of its later life; presumably Shunkin's parents made suitable arrangements for the child's welfare.) Thus Shunkin managed to have her own way and hush up the whole incident of her illegitimate child. Before long she was nonchalantly going to her lessons again, with Sasuke as her guide. By then, however, it seems that their relations were an open secret. Yet whenever a formal union was suggested they both denied that there was anything between them. Knowing their daughter's temperament, Shunkin's parents were obliged to ignore what was going on.

  This ambiguous state of affairs — they were at once mistress and servant, fellow pupils, and lovers — continued for two or three years, until Shunkin was nineteen. Then her master Shunsho died, and she herself became a teacher. Leaving her parents, she set up a household in Yodoyabashi, and Sasuke went along with her.

  Of course her ability had long been recognized by Shunsho, and before he died he had licensed her to teach. It was he who had given her the very name of Shunkin, which incorporated part of his own name; and he did all he could to further her career, often playing duets with her in public recitals and having her perform the leading parts. So perhaps it was only natural that she opened a studio of her own. Still, considering her age and circumstances, I find it odd that she made herself independent so soon. Probably her relations with Sasuke had something to do with it. Her parents may have decided that if this unsavory and by now quite open relationship was to continue, setting a bad example for the other employees, it would be best to have the two of them go and live elsewhere. Shunkin could scarcely object to that.

  Yet she behaved as coldly toward Sasuke as ever. Even when they were living together at Yodoyabashi he was treated as her servant. Also, now that their teacher had died, he began to receive instruction from her again — and this time they maintained the roles of teacher and pupil in the presence of others. Shunkin intensely disliked any appearance of being Sasuke's wife. She was very strict in requiring him to observe proper decorum both as a pupil and as a servant; she made a point of prescribing the correct forms of speech for him, down to the most trivial niceties of usage. When he happened to violate one of these rules, she upbraided him relentlessly for his rudeness, and would not easily accept his apologies, however abject. As a result, Shunkin's new pupils were slow to realize that the two were lovers. And it seems that the servants would gossip among themselves, saying: “How do you suppose she acts when they're in bed together? I'd like to spy on them sometime!”

  Why did Shunkin treat Sasuke in this fashion? To be sure, Osaka people have always been more concerned about questions of family background, property, and status, when it comes to marriage, than those of Tokyo: Osaka is famous for its proud old merchant families — and how much prouder they must have been in the feudal days before Meiji! A girl like Shunkin would doubtless have regarded Sasuke, whose family had served hers for generations, as someone immeasurably beneath her. Then too, with the typically embittered attitude of a blind person, she must have been determined not to show any weakness, or let anyone make a fool of her.

  I suppose she felt that she would be insulting herself irreparably by taking Sasuke as her husband. Probably she was ashamed of sleeping with an inferior, and reacted by behaving coldly toward him. Then did she consider him nothing more than a physiological necessity? As far as she was aware of her own feelings, I dare say she did.

  To quote again from the Life:

  Shunkin was a woman of fastidious habits and immaculate dress. She changed into fresh undergarments daily, and insisted on having her rooms thoroughly cleaned morning and evening: before si
tting down she would run her fingertips carefully over the cushions and the floor matting — she loathed even the least speck of dust. They say that a pupil of hers who suffered from indigestion once came for his lesson on a day when his breath was bad. Shunkin gave the third string of her samisen an ominous twang, laid the instrument down before her, and sat there frowning without a word. The embarrassed pupil timidly asked if anything was the matter. When he asked a second time, she replied: “I may be blind, but there is nothing wrong with my nose. Go wash out your mouth!”

  Perhaps it was because of her lack of sight that Shunkin had a morbid love of cleanliness, but when a fastidious woman happens also to be blind the difficulties of those who take care of her are endless. The task of being her guide was not confined to leading her here and there by the hand; one had to see to all the little details of her daily life — eating and drinking, getting up and going to bed, taking baths, going to the lavatory, and the like. And because Sasuke had been responsible for these duties ever since her childhood, and understood all her idiosyncrasies, no one else could manage them to suit her. It was in this sense, rather than the physiological, that Sasuke was indispensable.

  Moreover, at home in Dosho-machi Shunkin had been subject to the restraining influence of her parents and her brothers and sisters, but as the head of her own household her fastidiousness and waywardness went from bad to worse. Sasuke's duties became still more demanding.

  For certain further details, which were naturally omitted from the Life, I am indebted to Shigizawa Teru. “Even in the lavatory my mistress never washed her own hands,” she told me. “Shunkin was not in the habit of doing things like that for herself — they were all done by Sasuke. He even bathed her. They say great ladies think nothing of having themselves washed from head to toe by their servants, and don't feel a bit of shame about it; my teacher's attitude toward Sasuke was like that. Maybe it's because she was blind, but I expect she was so used to being cared for, after all those years, that she didn't give it a second thought. She was a very stylish woman too. Even if she hadn't seen herself in a mirror since she was a little girl, she didn't have the faintest doubt of her own beauty. She spent as much time choosing her clothes, or doing her hair and making up, as any woman.”

  I imagine that Shunkin's powerful memory retained for many years the picture of her own good looks when she was a child of eight. Besides, after constantly receiving compliments and hearing herself praised, she knew very well that she was beautiful. As a result, she devoted an extraordinary amount of time to cultivating her appearance.

  Shunkin always kept a number of nightingales, and would mix their droppings with rice bran to use as a sort of pumice for the skin; she also set great store by the juice of the snake gourd as a cosmetic. Unless her face and body were satin-smooth, she felt quite uncomfortable — a rough skin was her chief aversion. People who play stringed instruments keep their left-hand fingernails short, since the strings are pressed with those fingers; but Shunkin had the nails of both her hands (and both feet as well) trimmed and filed regularly every three days. Of course they hardly seemed to have grown in that time, but she insisted that they must always look the same. Afterwards, she would carefully feel each of her fingernails and toenails, and would never permit the slightest variation from their proper size and shape. All such services as manicuring her nails were performed by Sasuke alone. During what time he had left, he received lessons from her, and even, occasionally, took her place in teaching one of the younger pupils.

  Sexual relations are infinite in their variety. Sasuke, for example, knew Shunkin's body in the most exhaustive detail: he was bound up with her in an intimacy beyond the dreams of any ordinary husband and wife or pair of lovers. It is not surprising that in his later years when he himself was blind he still cared for her personal needs with no great difficulty. To the end of his long life (he died at eighty-two) Sasuke never married or formed a second liaison, or indeed had any experience with a woman other than Shunkin. Though scarcely qualified to make critical comparisons, he took to boasting about her in his old age, the years after her death, and he would never tire of telling his friends about her incredibly smooth skin, her soft, pliant legs and arms. It was the one topic on which he rambled as interminably as any garrulous old man. Sometimes he would hold out his hand and say: “Her dainty little foot was just big enough to nestle into my palm.” Or again, stroking his cheek: “Even her heel was softer and smoother than this.”

  I have mentioned that Shunkin was small in stature. But she was not so slender as she appeared to be when dressed: in the nude, her body was unexpectedly voluptuous. And she was dazzlingly fair — her skin kept its youthful gloss and freshness throughout her life. Perhaps that was because of her epicurean tastes, so remarkable for a lady of those days. They say that she was fond of chicken and fish, particularly fillets of sea bream, and that she enjoyed saké too, never failing to have a few cups of it with her evening meal.

  (There is something painful about watching a blind person eat, especially a beautiful young woman. Whether Shunkin was aware of this or not, she disliked eating in the presence of anyone but Sasuke. When invited out to dinner she seemed excessively refined, barely touching her food; but the truth was that she had luxurious tastes. Not that she ate heavily: only a scant two bowls of rice, together with a morsel from each of the various other dishes. But because she took so little there had to be a number of different courses. She seemed to be deliberately trying to make work for Sasuke. He became very skillful at boning sea bream or shelling crabs and lobsters, and could extract the bones neatly through the tail of a small fish without altering its shape.)

  Shunkin had a mass of soft, silky hair. Her hands were slender and supple, with a strength that must have come from years of practice on the koto and samisen — one of her slaps left a real sting. Though subject to fits of feverish dizziness, she was also highly sensitive to cold: even in midsummer her feet were icy and she never perspired. All the year round she slept in a thickly quilted robe of satin or silk crepe, with her feet wrapped securely in its long, trailing skirt; and she lay so still that it was never disarranged. Fearing that the blood might rush to her head, she avoided using hot-water bottles and other warming devices: when her feet were too cold Sasuke would lie down and clasp them against his bosom, the chief effect of which was to chill him to the bone. When she took a bath she had the windows of the bathroom thrown wide open (even in winter) to disperse the steam. She got in and out of the tub repeatedly, staying only a few minutes, though the water was never more than lukewarm. Since a long soaking caused her heart to palpitate and the steam made her dizzy, she had to warm herself by spending as little time as possible in the water, and then have her body washed with the utmost haste. As one learns more and more about Shunkin, one begins to realize how much trouble she gave Sasuke.

  Yet his material compensation was very small. As to wages, he received only an occasional allowance, so little that he often lacked tobacco money; and he had no new clothing except that provided by his mistress at the midsummer Bon Festival and the end of the year, in the traditional feudal manner. Although he sometimes gave lessons in place of Shunkin, he was not accorded any special status. Pupils and maidservants were ordered to address him as one of themselves, and whenever he accompanied Shunkin to a pupil's house he had to wait for her at the door.

  One day Sasuke had such a bad toothache that his right cheek was greatly swollen. By nightfall the pain was almost unbearable, but he forced himself to hide his suffering. Now and then he would stealthily rinse his mouth, and he was careful to keep his breath away from Shunkin as he served her. At last she retired, and told him to massage her shoulders and back. After a while she said: “That's enough. Now you can warm my feet.” Obediently he lay down, opened his kimono, and pressed the soles of her ice-cold feet against his chest. But his face, smothered in the bedclothes, was flaming hot — and his toothache worse than ever. Finally, in desperation, he put his swollen cheek against one o
f her feet.

  Suddenly Shunkin gave the cheek a sharp kick, and Sasuke leaped up with a cry of pain. “You needn't bother any more!” she said witheringly. “I told you to warm my feet — not cool your face! Do you think you can trick me just because I'm blind? I knew you had a toothache all day. Even with the sole of my foot I can tell that your right cheek is puffed and feverish. If it hurts so much you ought to say so — I'm not a tyrant who mistreats servants. But you pretend to be so devoted, and then have the impudence to use me for your own comfort. I suppose you think that's clever. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

  This was not unusual behavior for her. But what particularly annoyed Shunkin was for Sasuke to pay any attention whatever to the young girls among her pupils, to be kind to them, or help them with their lessons. The more she tried to conceal her jealousy, the more cruelly she treated him. It was at such times that he suffered worst of all.

  When a woman is blind and never marries, there are limits to her extravagance. Even if she has expensive tastes in food and clothing, and indulges them, the sums involved are not likely to be very great. However, Shunkin's household included half a dozen servants, and the monthly expenses were substantial. As to why she spent so much money and kept such a large establishment, it was chiefly because she was a bird fancier, with a weakness for nightingales.

  Today, a nightingale that sings beautifully will cost up to ten thousand yen; no doubt that was true even in Shunkin's time. Meanwhile, bird fanciers seem to have changed their tastes somewhat; but in current practice the most valuable nightingales are those which, apart from their natural call of hohokekyo, can sing both the “valley-flying call” of kekkyo-kekkyo and the “high notes” of hokiibekakon. Wild nightingales cannot produce these two melodies. At best, they may achieve an unpleasant hokiibecha— to become capable of the lovely, lingering bell-like note of kon they require intensive training. Baby nightingales must be caught before their tail feathers are grown, and then trained by another nightingale, a “teaching bird.” If their tails are already grown out, they will have learned the unmelodious calls of their parents, and nothing more can be done.