Ugetsu Monogatari or Tales of Moonlight and Rain (Routledge Revivals)

by Ueda Akinari

  ‘Long before even my grandfather's grandfather was born, bygone ages ago,246 there lived in this village a beautiful maiden named Mama no Tegona. Her family was poor, and she wore dresses made of hemp, and collars fixed with blue. Although her hair went uncombed and she walked unshod, her face was as perfect as the moon when at the full, and her smile was like the fragrance of the flowers. Because she surpassed even the ladies of the capital, clad in their rich brocades, she was courted not only by the men of this village but also by guardsmen from the capital and even by men from neighbouring provinces, who conveyed their love and longed for her. But Tegona grew sad and despondent that she could not give her heart to the suitor of her choice, and she cast herself to the waves in the bay. Struck by the way that her fate reflected the sorrow of life, many poets of old wrote verses about her, and the legend has been handed down. When I was a boy and my mother told it to me, I used to listen, enthralled, and filled with pity for the young woman. Yet now I feel that your wife Miyagi's fate was sadder by far even than that of innocent young Tegona of old.’

  While speaking, Grandfather Uruma wept profusely, unable to stop, losing control of his emotions as old people so easily do. Katsushirō, upon hearing the story, was also beside himself with grief, and in the clumsy style of a man from the provinces, he made a poem :247

  Inishie no No matter how much

  Mama no Tegona wo They loved Tegona

  kaku bakari In that bygone age,

  koite shi aran I loved my dear wife

  Mama no Tegona wo Every bit as much.

  Of his true feelings he could scarcely express a small part, but in some ways his plaintive cry may have been more genuine than poems by far more skilful hands.

  The story of Miyagi and Katsushirō was brought back by merchants who from time to time have paid visits to that province.

  IV THE CARP THAT CAME TO MY DREAM

  (Muō no rigyo)

  Long ago, around the time of Enchō,248 there lived at the Mii temple249 a priest by the name of Kōgi. Owing to his skill as an artist, his name was widely known, but instead of doing such subjects as Buddhist portraits, landscapes, or flower-and-bird studies, Kōgi250 would go out on Lake Biwa in a small boat whenever he was free from temple duties and give money to the fishermen who worked with their nets251 in order that he could return the fish that they had caught into the water and sketch them while they leaped and played. As the years went by his paintings grew more and more exquisite.252 Once, after putting all his heart253 into a drawing, he grew sleepy and dreamed of entering the water and swimming together with many fish. When he awoke Kōgi immediately painted what he had seen and put it on his wall, calling it, ‘The Carp That Came to My Dream.’

  People admired the delicacy of his paintings and vied with one another to get them, but while Kōgi would readily give away whatever flower-and-bird study or landscape they desired, he was very unwilling to part with his carp pictures.

  He would tell everyone in a merry voice, ‘A monk can hardly give the fish that he has raised to an ordinary person who takes life or eats seafood.’ His paintings and his witty remark both became famous throughout the land.

  One year Kōgi was taken ill,254 and after seven days passed suddenly his eyes closed and his breath stopped, as if he were dead. His disciples and friends gathered together grieving at their loss, but because some slight warmth remained in his chest they stayed by his side, just in case, and watched over him for three days. At the end of this time his arms and legs appeared to stir a bit, and suddenly he sighed, opened his eyes, and as if a person just waking up, he arose and turned to those assembled, saying, ‘I have been away from human affairs for a long time. How many days have passed ?’

  ‘Master,’ replied his disciples,255 ‘three days ago256 you ceased breathing. Not only the people within the temple but everyone who in the past has enjoyed the pleasure of your company came to pay you homage and to discuss the matter of funeral services. But because your heart still seemed to be warm, we refrained from closing you up in a coffin, and instead we kept watch over you. Now you have come back to life, and how wise that we did not bury you. All of us rejoice.’

  Kōgi nodded and said, ‘One of you must go to the mansion of our patron,257 Vice-Governor Taira, and say to him: “The master miraculously lives. My Lord, although you are now enjoying your wine and having your freshly sliced fish prepared, please leave your banquet and come to the temple. You shall hear a strange story.” Then note the reaction of those present. All will be exactly as I have related.’

  Greatly mystified, a messenger went to the mansion and saw much to his amazement that just as the master had predicted, the Vice-Governor was sitting with his younger brother, Jūrō, and his retainer, Kamori, enjoying his wine. He repeated what he was told, and when the people at the Vice-Governor's mansion heard the message, they were astonished, and setting aside their food, all of them258 proceeded to the temple.

  Raising his head from his pillow, Kōgi apologised for putting them to so much trouble. The Vice-Governor expressed his joy at Kōgi's recovery.

  ‘Would you please oblige me by answering a question?’ Kōgi then asked. ‘Did you order some fish from Bunshi, the fisherman ?’

  ‘To be sure, I did,’ replied the Vice-Governor in surprise. ‘How do you happen to know ?’

  ‘That fisherman,’ said Kōgi, ‘brought to your house in a basket a fish more than three feet long.259 You and your brother were seated in the south room playing go.260 Kamori sat nearby, eating a large peach as he watched the game develop. Delighted when the fisherman carried in the large specimen, you gave him one of the peaches that was placed on a tall dish.261 Also, you offered him a cup of wine and treated him to several rounds of drinks, while the cook262 proudly took the fish and began to slice it. Everything I have said, down to the last point, is completely correct, isn't it ?’

  Upon hearing what Kōgi related, the Vice-Governor and his companions were dumbfounded and knew not what to think. They asked how he possessed this detailed knowledge of what had happened.

  iv The Cap That Came to My Dream: Kōgi's spirit departs from the golden carp

  ‘I was in such pain from my illness,’ Kōgi replied, ‘that I could bear it no longer. Unaware that I had died, I wished to cool my burning fever a little,263 so I took up my walking stick and went out through the gate. Somehow, I seemed to forget my sickness, and I felt like a caged bird released into the sky. I travelled on over mountains and through hamlets until once more I found myself by the shores of the lake. As soon as I saw the jade green liquid I wanted to enter it, and without further thought I cast aside my clothing and sprang with all my might, plunging deeply into the water. I found while swimming around here and there that I could do anything I desired, though from childhood on I had never been used to the water. Whatever my situation may have been then, it is true that a man swimming in the water can never enjoy it as much as a fish; when I began to envy the way they were gliding about, a large one nearby said, “Master, I can easily fulfil your wish. Please wait here for me.” So saying, he disappeared far into the depths.

  ‘Presently a man wearing a crown and court dress rose up astride the same fish followed by many other creatures of the deep. He said to me, “The God of the Sea264 speaks. You, old priest, by previously freeing living creatures,265 have accrued great merit. Now, having entered the water, you want to swim like a fish, and it is our privilege to grant you for a time the shape of a golden carp266 and to let you enjoy the pleasures of our watery domain.267 But you must take care not to be blinded by the sweetness of bait and get caught on a hook and lose your life.” Thereupon he left me and disappeared from sight. With great wonder, I looked around at my body. Unawares, I had been adorned with fish scales, gleaming like gold, and I had assumed the form of a carp. I flapped my tail, moved my fins, and swam everywhere to my heart's desire, without thinking it the least bit strange.

  ‘At first I rode upon the waves that rise and fall with the gusts that
blow from Mt Nagara,268 and then I swam about the Great Bay of Shiga.269 But people on foot270 trailing their skirts in the tide as they walked to and fro startled me, and I plunged far down into the deep waters that reflect the lofty peaks of Hira.271 I wanted to hide,272 but couldn't, for the fishing fires of Katada lured me, uncontrollably. With the inexorable approach of evening, and after the pure black night fell,273 the moon lodged in the sky above the Bay of Yonaka, gleaming on the top of Mirror Mountain274 and shining on the countless inlets of Yaso Harbour.275 To my delight no place was left untouched by the beauty. I felt astonished at seeing the mountain on Oki Island276 and at viewing the red fences of Chiku-bushima277 reflected on the waves. As morning drew near and the famous wind278 rose off Mt Ibuki, the boats of Asazuma set out, waking me from my dreams among the reeds. I dodged the ferryman's deft boat pole at the Yabase279 Crossing, and time and again the keeper of the Seta280 Bridge forced me to turn back. When the sun was warm,281 I floated. When storm winds blew, I swam to the bottom, a thousand fathoms below.

  ‘Suddenly, I felt hungry and I knew that I needed something to eat. Searching here and there but finding nothing, I grew ever more frantic, until I came to the hook and line that Bunshi had cast. His bait looked very tempting. Still, in my heart I realised that I must obey the Sea God's warning. I was a disciple of Buddha. Even if for the present I were unable to find food, how could I stoop so low as to take fish bait ? I went away.

  ‘But after a while my hunger grew more intense, and once again I thought it over, and I could bear it no longer. Supposing I took the bait – Would I be so foolish as to get caught ? Bunshi and I were old acquaintances, so there was no need for me to hesitate, I decided. I swallowed the bait. Bunshi quickly pulled at the line and caught me.

  ‘“What are you doing ?” I shouted. But he handled me as though he had heard nothing, and he strung a cord through my jaw, moored his boat among the reeds, and throwing me into a basket, he went to your door. You and your brother were playing go in the south room. Kamori was seated nearby, eating some fruit. When you saw what a large fish282 Bunshi had brought, you and your companions admired it greatly.

  ‘“Gentlemen! Can't you tell? I'm Kōgi,” I screamed at all of you as loudly as I could. “Let me go. Take me back to the temple,” I kept shouting. But you acted as if nothing were the matter and merely clapped your hands in delight.

  ‘Presently, your cook jabbed the fingers of his left hand into my eyes and grabbed me firmly while with his right he took a well-sharpened blade. Laying me on a chopping board, he started to cut me, and I cried out in desperate pain, “How can you cause injury to a disciple of Buddha! Help, save me!” But he ignored my words, and finally, just as I could feel him cutting me I awoke from my dream.’

  Everyone was greatly surprised, and the Vice-Governor said, ‘Now that we've heard your story, we realise that the fish's mouth moved each time, but it emitted no sound whatsoever. How strange that such an event should take place before our very eyes!’ Immediately, he sent a servant back to the house with orders to cast the chopped fish into the lake.

  Thereafter, Kōgi recovered from his illness, and much later, having lived out his natural span, he passed away. When his end drew near, he took a number of scrolls bearing the likenesses of carp283 and threw them in the lake, whereupon the painted fish emerged from the paper and silk and swam about in the water. For this reason, Kōgi's paintings have not been handed down. A disciple, however, by the name of Nari-mitsu,284 inherited Kōgi's mastery and gained great renown. After he painted a cock on a panel in the Kan'in Palace,285 a real rooster that saw it is said to have scratched at the likeness.

  This story may be found in an old collection of tales.

  VOLUME THREE

  V BIRD OF PARADISE

  (Buppōsō)286

  Japan, the Land of Peace and Calm,287 had long been true to its name. Its people rejoiced in their labour and still found time to relax underneath the cherry-blossoms in spring and to visit the many-coloured groves of trees in autumn. Those who wished might take long trips by sea with the tiller as their pillow288 and visit the strange shores of Tsukushi.289 Yet others could set their hearts on the pleasure of climbing such peaks as Mt Fuji and Tsukuba.290

  In Ise, in the hamlet of Oka,291 there lived a man whose name was Hayashi. He retired early from his occupation in order to make way for his son, and he took the tonsure and called himself Muzen, though he did not actually become a priest.292 He had always been a healthy man, and he liked travelling to various places as he grew on in years. When his younger son, Sakunoji, began to mature, Muzen worried lest the boy be too countrified, and wishing to show him how people in the capital live, he took him to spend about a month at his establishment in Kyoto, in the Second Ward. Toward the end of the Third Month they went to view the cherry-blossoms in the deepest recesses of Yoshino.293

  After enjoying themselves for seven days or so at a temple where he was known, Muzen told the boy that they had never been to Mt Kōya,294 and that since they were so near they ought to pay a visit. Thus they made their way through the thick, green foliage of early summer, passing by a place known as Tennokawa295 and then climbing the Mountain of Mani.296 As they toiled up the steep path, the sun began to set before they noticed it.

  They prayed at the central halls297 and the famous buildings, and also at the shrine of the founder, and then they tried to ask for lodging at the various cloisters, but no one would respond. Finally they inquired of a passerby about the local custom.

  ‘People who have no connections with one of the temples or priests’ dwellings,’ replied the man, ‘must go down the mountain and wait for dawn. Nowhere on this peak can anyone put up a stranger for the night.’

  Upon hearing this news, Muzen felt tired and exhausted, and he was at a loss what to do, particularly after having dragged his aged body up the steep mountain path.

  ‘It's dark now, and our feet are sore,’ said Sakunoji. ‘How can we ever manage to climb down such a long way ? I'm young and don't mind sleeping on the grass, but it would be terrible should you become ill.’

  ‘It's just this sort of thing,’ said Muzen, ‘that brings out the sorrow of travel. Even though we might exhaust ourselves and ruin our feet going down the mountain to spend the night, it still wouldn't be the same as sleeping at home.298 Besides, we don't know how far we'll have to walk tomorrow. This mountain is the most sacred place in Japan.299 Kūkai was one of our greatest religious leaders. Certainly after coming here it ought to be worthwhile spending a night praying for our life in the afterworld. Since we have such a good chance, let us pass the hours meditating at the shrine of the founder.’

  Thereupon, they followed along a dark path flanked by cedars until they reached the shrine. They climbed onto the wooden verandah around the lantern hall300 in front of the shrine and spread out their rain garments to sit on. While quiedy intoning praise to the Buddha, they forlornly awaited the deepening of night.

  An area of twenty acres had been landscaped, and the groves of trees did not appear the least bit sinister. Every last pebble had been swept from the hallowed ground. Nevertheless, the cloisters were far away, and the sound of chants, bells, and ringing staves could not be heard. The thick foliage that sheltered the pair from the clouds grew green and luxuriant. The sound of water flowing in a thin trickle beside the path penetrated to the depth of their being and brought poignant thoughts to mind. His senses alert, Muzen began to speak,

  ‘You see, when Kūkai became a deity,301 even the rocks and trees attained a spirit. Now, over eight hundred years later, his power is even more evident and revered. Among the many places where his deeds are remembered,302 this mountain remains the holiest one of all. Long ago, when he was still alive, Kūkai crossed over to distant China, and finding great inspiration he said, “Wherever my trident303 rests, that site shall be hallowed land for the practice of my teachings.”

  ‘Gazing up toward the heavens, he threw the instrument, and strange to say, it came to
rest on this mountain. The Pine Tree of the Trident, which stands in front of the central halls, grows on the very spot where the relic is supposed to have fallen. All of the grass, trees, rocks, and springs on this mountain, with no exception whatsoever, are believed to have spirits. How strange it is that you and I are spending the night here. It must have been ordained by fate. Although you are yet young, you must never let your faith fail.’

  Muzen spoke quietly, but the sound carried mysteriously through the night.

  ‘Buppan ! Buppan !’

  Seemingly from within the woods behind the shrine came the cry of a bird, and then, somewhat closer, the sound of an echo.

  ‘How remarkable!’ exclaimed Muzen, his attention diverted. ‘That call just now must be a bird of paradise.304 I've been told that they lived on this mountain, but no one has ever been certain of hearing it before.305 Surely it's a sign that because we are spending the night here Buddha will forgive us our sins and grant us salvation. After all, that bird is said to nest only in sacred places like Mt Kashō306 in the province of Kōzuke, Mt Futara307 in the province of Shimotsuke, the Daigo Ridge308 in Yamashiro, and Mt Shinaga309 in Kawachi. That it's found on this mountain is well known to many from Kūkai's poem,

  Alone in a cold grove I prayed,

  As dawn came to my hut,

  And with the song of one bird

  I heard the call of the three treasures.

  Each feathered creature has its voice,

  Every man has his own heart,

  And music fills the clouds and streams

  With hallowed resonance.310

  ‘And there is another ancient verse,

  Matsunoo no By Matsuo Shrine,