However, her shortcomings meant nothing to the Intendant, because through that chance gap he had actually seen her, however indistinctly, and this was a joyous omen that what he had so long desired was really to be. All he wanted was more.
Genji brought up old memories. “His Excellency the Chancellor was always trying to outdo me,” he said, “but it was only at kickball that I could not keep up with him. It is just a game after all, and I doubt that there is any tradition about it to pass on, but even so, skill at it seems to run in a family. Yours is certainly far beyond mine.”
“For those of us who lack real ability in office, this is hardly the sort of fame that will impress our descendants,” the Intendant replied with a smile.
“Oh, come now. Outstanding achievement of any kind deserves to be passed on. Surely there is a great deal to be said for keeping it all written down in the family records.” His playfulness had such charm that the Intendant wondered what could ever move any woman, once she knew him, to shift her allegiance elsewhere. What could he possibly do to win her respect and affection? He left with despair in his heart at the thought of being so far below her.
He and the Commander rode in the same carriage and talked all the way. “His Grace's is certainly the place to go to pass the time these days, when there is so little else to do,” the Intendant began.
“He said we should come whenever we can, on a nice day like today, so as not to let the blossoms go to waste. Come there with your small bow before the month is over, if we are to enjoy what is left of spring.” And so it was agreed.
Their conversation continued until they actually separated, and the Intendant then felt like pursuing the subject of Her Highness. “His Grace seems to spend all his time in his east wing,” he said. “I suppose he thinks especially highly of her. I wonder how Her Highness feels. His Eminence treated her as his pride and joy, and she must miss that now. I feel sorry for her.”
This uncalled-for remark moved the Commander to reply, “You do not understand. It is not like that at all. What makes him so particularly close to her must be the unusual manner in which he brought her up. He is extremely attentive to Her Highness in every way.”
“Oh, come, stop that. I know all about it. Why, I hear that her life is a succession of humiliations. And to think that she was once so favored! I have never heard of such a thing!
Why should the warbler who flits so from tree to tree among the flowers
each time avoid the cherry and never perch there at all?
Imagine a bird of spring who singles out the blossoming cherry for neglect! To me it seems very, very strange!”
Oh, no! the Commander thought in response to this lyrical outburst. What a nuisance! I just knew it! And he said,
“How could that bright bird who has chosen for his perch a mountainside tree
tire of the cherry blossoms' delicate beauty of hue?129
This is absurd. Is he simply to give up all the rest?” He did not care to pursue the topic and changed the subject to make sure that it did not recur. Soon each went his way.
The Intendant was still living alone in His Excellency's east wing. Having long done so for reasons of his own, he had only himself to blame if at times he felt lost and lonely, but he was proud enough to see no reason why such a man as himself should not have what he desired. However, after that evening he became excessively gloomy and morose. When will I ever again have the glimpse of her that I had then? he wondered. A woman of one perfectly ordinary rank or another, yes, what with the vagaries of seclusions, directional taboos, and so on, I could easily find a moment at least to visit her. But there was nothing he could do. Sheltered as she was, how could he even manage to let her know of his deep devotion?
The question so tormented him that he wrote to Kojijū as before. “How little Her Highness must have thought of me when by the wind's will I made my way the other day to that noble garden! Ever since then I have been sorely troubled and have given my days to melancholy dreaming,” he said, and so on.130
“From afar I spied but could never pluck that branch, source of all my sighs,
so that I long for it still, blooming in the evening light.”
However, Kojijū did not know what had happened the other day, and she could therefore make nothing of this except a suitor's common complaint. She took the letter to her mistress, since just then there was hardly anyone else with her. “My lady, I am sorry to say that this gentleman is appealing to something or other that he cannot forget,” she said, smiling. “He seems to be in a pitiful state, and I am not quite sure myself that I shall be able to resist the urge to help him.”
“What an awful thing to say!” Her Highness exclaimed, looking over the open letter. The “melancholy dreaming” brought straight to mind that shocking business of the blind, and she blushed. His Grace was always reminding her when they were together, “Please make sure that you never allow the Commander to see you. You are so young in some ways that a moment of inattention on your part might easily give him a chance to do so.” It never even occurred to her when she remembered these warnings that someone else might have seen her, because she could think of nothing but how angry Genji would be if the Commander ever told him that such a thing had occurred. Her instant fear of Genji made it plain just what a girl she really was.
Her Highness took so much longer than usual to reply that the disappointed Kojijū, who could not very well press her further, wrote back in secret, as so often, “You were a cool one the other day. What do you mean by that ‘melancholy dreaming’ of yours, when I have always objected to your addressing my lady in the first place?” From there she tripped on into,
“I will have no more appeals and pathetic sighs telling me your heart
yearns for a mountain cherry so high up beyond your reach!
It is no use, I tell you!”
35
WAKANA 2
Spring Shoots II
As in “Spring Shoots I” wakana means “new shoots.” Here, however, the word refers to a later occasion: the celebration of Retired Emperor Suzaku's fiftieth year. Genji offers him a banquet centered upon the new shoots of the traditional plants of early spring.
RELATIONSHIP TO EARLIER CHAPTERS
There is no break between “Spring Shoots I” and “Spring Shoots II,” which begins in the third month of Genji's forty-first year and extends to the end of his forty-seventh.
PERSONS
His Grace, the Honorary Retired Emperor, Genji, age 41 to 47
The Intendant of the Right Gate Watch, then also Counselor,
Tō no Chūjōs eldest son, mid-20s to early 30s (Kashiwagi)
The Left Commander, then Minister of the Right, mid-30s to early 40s (Higekuro)
The Right Commander, then also Grand Counselor,
Genji's son, 20 to 27 (Yūgiri)
His Highness, the Heir Apparent, then His Majesty, the Emperor, 15 to 21
The Mistress of Staff, Higekuro's wife, 27 to 33 (Tamakazura)
The daughter of the Left Commander, midteens to early 20s (Makibashira)
His Highness of Ceremonial, Makibashira's grandfather, 56 to 62
(Shikibukyō no Miya)
His wife (Shikibukyō no Miya no Kita no Kata)
His Highness of War, Genji's brother (Hotaru Hyōbukyō no Miya)
His Majesty, the Emperor, then His Eminence,
Retired Emperor Reizei, 23 to 29
His Excellency, the Chancellor, then His Retired Excellency (Tō no Chūjō)
The Kiritsubo Consort, Genji's daughter, 13 to 19 (Akashi no Nyōgo)
Her son, becomes the Heir Apparent
Her Majesty, the Empress, 32 to 38 (Akikonomu)
Her Highness, the Third Princess, midteens to early 20s (Onna San no Miya)
The mistress of the east wing, 33 to 39 (Murasaki)
The lady from Akashi, 32 to 38 (Akashi no Kimi)
Her mother, the Nun, mid-60s to early 70s (Akashi no Amagimi)
Nakatsukasa, Mur
asaki's gentlewoman
His Cloistered Eminence, Retired Emperor Suzaku, 44 to 50 (Suzaku In)
The lady of summer, mistress of the northeast quarter (Hanachirusato)
Kojijū, Onna San no Miya's gentlewoman
Her Highness, the Second Princess (Ochiba no Miya)
The Haven, Her Majesty's mother, deceased (Rokujō no Miyasudokoro)
The Nijō Mistress of Staff (Oborozukiyo)
The Haven, Ochiba no Miya's mother (Ichijō no Miyasudokoro)
His Retired Excellency's wife, Kashiwagi's mother (Shi no Kimi)
The Intendant saw what she meant. Still, he thought, what an awful thing to say! And how, I should like to know, am I to find comfort enough in mere pleasantries? Oh, for the time when I might hear a single word in her own voice without this intervening presence, and speak to her as well! On the whole he loved and admired Genji, but such ruminations as these gave an odd twist to his feelings.
On the last day of the month the young men gathered at Rokujō. The Intendant was hardly in the mood for it, but he went anyway in the hope that seeing the flowers there might make him feel better. The privy gentlemen's archery contest1 at the palace, planned for the second month, had to general disappointment been put off because the third month was one of mourning,2 so that they all came when Genji announced a contest of his own. The fact that the Left and Right Commanders were related3 put their subordinate officers on their mettle, and although the occasion was to be devoted to the small bow, so many experts at standing archery4 were present that they, too, were invited to show off their skill.
The privy gentlemen so disposed divided into two staggered lines, front and back.5 The last of the spring mists seemed doubly precious today with sunset coming on, and the mischievous ways of the late-afternoon breeze made it more difficult than ever to leave the shelter of the blossoms. Everyone was quite drunk.
“Such beautiful prizes no doubt say a good deal about the ladies they are from, and it would be too bad to have guardsmen who can hit a willow leaf every time at a hundred paces gleefully make off with them all,”6 the Commanders remarked to each other. “I prefer a contest between men a little less expert.”
They and the others stepped down into the garden. The Intendant was more pensive than the rest, and the Right Commander, who had an idea what the matter was, kept an eye on him. He is just not the man I know, he thought with a pang; this may end in disaster. They both got on extremely well, being so close that they understood one another perfectly and had only sympathy for each other's least sorrow or fancy. The Intendant, who looked on His Grace with dazzled awe, shrank from his own thoughts, since he would never have wished to give the least offense and this one was beyond the pale, but he longed in his trouble at least to have the cat— not that I could pour out my heart to it, he thought, but it would be a comfort when I am feeling lonely—and he schemed frantically to steal it for himself. That alone would be tricky enough, though.
He tried going to the Kokiden Consort's7 to pass the time in conversation. Her admirably formal reception, and the way she kept him from actually seeing her, brought it home to him after all that if even she, despite what they were to each other, kept this sort of distance between them, why then, what just happened was careless and strange! However, he was too infatuated to think less well of Her Highness for it.
He next called on the Heir Apparent and examined him in the conviction that he must resemble her. His looks lacked any charm, although so great a lord of course had a grace and distinction all his own. His Majesty's cat had had a large litter of kittens that had gone off to one household and another, and His Highness had one, too. The sight of it scampering fetchingly about immediately reminded him of that other one. “I have never seen a cat with a prettier face than the one Her Highness has at Rokujō,” the Intendant remarked. “I caught a little glimpse of it, you know.”
His Highness, who was particularly fond of cats, pressed his visitor to tell him more. “It is a Chinese cat,” the Intendant said; “it does not look at all like this one. A cat is a cat, of course, but it is so tame and friendly that it really is remarkably attractive.” He hoped to make him feel like seeing it himself.
His Highness was inspired to get in touch with the Kiritsubo Consort,8 and the cat arrived. The gentlewomen liked the dear little kitty very much, and the Intendant noted that His Highness wanted to keep it. A few days later he was back. His Eminence Suzaku had favored him and given him errands already when he was a page, and now that he was off in the mountains, the Intendant had become a familiar visitor at the Heir Apparent's.
“What a lot of cats!” the Intendant remarked, preparing to give His Highness a koto lesson. “But where is the darling I saw?” He found it and petted it affectionately.
“Yes, it is pretty,” His Highness said. “It is not very friendly yet, but I suppose that is because of the new people. It does not seem that much better than the others here.”
“Most cats hardly recognize anyone, but I am sure that a clever cat actually has a soul,” the Intendant replied; and he went on, “You seem to have some even nicer cats here, Your Highness. May I keep this one for a while?” He felt secretly like a complete idiot for asking.
So he had the cat at last, and he got it to sleep with him at night. By day he caressed it and fussed over it. Soon it was no longer shy, and it curled up in his skirts or cuddled with him so nicely that he really did become very fond of it. He was lying against a pillar near the veranda, lost in thought, when it came to him going Meow! Meow! ever so sweetly.
My, we are eager, aren't we!9 He smiled and stroked it, then gazed into its eyes:
“You I make my pet, that in you I may have her, my unhappy love:
what can you be telling me, when you come crying this way?
This is destiny, too, I suppose.” It meowed more endearingly still, and he clasped it to him.
“How odd of him all at once to take such a liking to a cat!” the old women muttered. “He never cared about such creatures before!”
The Heir Apparent sent for the cat, but the Intendant never returned it; instead he kept it to whisper sweet nothings to all by himself.
The Left Commander's wife still felt closer to the Right Commander than to the sons of His Excellency the Chancellor.10 She was quick and easy to like, and she welcomed the Right Commander so warmly whenever he called that the company of the all too distant and formal Kiritsubo Consort11 paled in comparison, and an unusual affection grew up between them.
She was the pride and joy of her husband, who by now had lost all interest in his first wife. It was disappointing to have had nothing but sons from her, and he wanted also to take charge of his daughter, the one of the “handsome pillar,”12 but her grandfather would not allow it. “I can make sure no one laughs at her, at least,” His Highness of Ceremonial would often say.
His Highness enjoyed the highest esteem, and His Majesty himself held him in exceptional favor, denying him nothing he asked for and liking him very much indeed. Always sensitive to the prevailing winds, he was the most popular and respected gentleman of his day after Genji and the Chancellor. The Commander, too, was destined to be a leading figure at court, and his daughter could hardly be taken lightly. A good many gentlemen had declared an interest in her at one time or another, but His Highness had not made up his mind. He wished the Intendant would drop some sort of hint, but unfortunately the gentleman had never even thought of it, perhaps because she interested him less than his cat. She herself regretted that her mother was odd and eccentric enough hardly to exist for other people, and she felt drawn to her stepmother instead, since she shared the lively tastes of the time.
His Highness of War13 still lived alone. The failure of every courtship he tried had blighted his life and given him the feeling that people were laughing at him. He did not see how he could very well allow himself to go on this way, though, and accordingly he intimated his own interest in the young lady.
“Why not?” said His High
ness of Ceremonial. “After giving a daughter to His Majesty, the next best thing to do for her is to marry her to a Prince. No one these days values anyone but proper, tedious commoners; it is quite demeaning.” He accepted His Highness of War's proposal and kept him in no further suspense. Although disappointed to be left without a complaint, His Highness of War could hardly withdraw, since the alliance was not one to be despised, and he therefore began visiting her. Her father made him feel entirely welcome.
His Highness of Ceremonial, who had had several daughters himself, knew that he should have learned his lesson by now, since they had given him a good many regrets, but it was hard to desert this granddaughter of his. Her mother is quite odd, he reflected, and more so with every passing year, and as for the Commander, his refusal to listen to me seems to have led him merely to abandon her. It is very painful. In this spirit he saw personally to doing up her rooms and looked after everything with great care.
His Highness of War always missed the wife he had lost, and he only wanted another like her. There was nothing wrong with his new one, but he did not find in her the resemblance he sought, and perhaps that explains why he was so visibly reluctant to visit her. His Highness of Ceremonial was highly displeased, and her mother lamented this deplorable failure whenever a lucid moment broke in upon her strangeness. I knew it! the Commander said to himself. That Prince was always too much the lover. He had never approved of the match in the first place, and he detested the man.
The news of such inconstancy, so near at hand, prompted the Mistress of Staff to wonder with mingled sadness and amusement what His Grace and His Excellency would have thought if the same thing had happened to her. I never wanted to see any more of him even then, though, she reflected. He never failed to address me warmly and sincerely, but I expect he decided in the end that I was tiresomely dull. The idea had always embarrassed her a great deal, and she saw that she needed to be careful now that his wife might be hearing stories from him.
The Tale of Genji: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition) (Junichiro Breakdown of Genji) Page 80
