Endnotes

  1. The province of Kyūshū. ↩

  2. On the north shore of the Inland Sea, west of Kobe. ↩

  3. In Murakami’s Harima Meisho-zuwe (Illustrated Description of the Province of Harima, ), vol. III, Onöe (wo no uhe) is described as a pine-grove in Osada, where the shrines of two deities Sumiyoshi Myojin (Illustrious God), and Ohara Dai myojin (Great Illustrious God) exist. Finally there were three gods of Sumiyoshi, of the upper (or nearer?) middle (remote?) and bottom (furthest?) waters. When Jingu, the Queen-Regnant (AD ⁠–⁠), had completed her conquest of Korea, she built here the Sumiyoshi shrine and called the place Takasago (High Dune). Changes in the coastline occurred, and Takasago (which was a little port) disappeared, while Old Takasago became Onöe. [Possibly the twain trees originally grew near these shrines, and of their proximity the memory was preserved in the story, when Sumiyoshi in Tsu came into existence.]

    There are two sayings about the pine-tree which are worth giving. One is Matsu to ifu ji wo sakashima yomeba tsuma to naru no de ureshikaro; if you read the syllabic characters of ma tsu (matsu, pine) backwards you have tsu ma (tsuma) “spouse,” which is, more japonico, a pleasant conceit. The other turns upon an analysis of the character 松 (pine-tree); matsu to ifu ji wo wakachite yomeba kimi to boku to no futari-zure, if you dissect the character for pine-tree you have 木 boku, “tree,” and 公 kimi, “you.” Boku is also the pronunciation of 僕 “I myself,” so that the saying means that the analysis of the character gives the pair of ego and tu. The one saying involves the notion of spousal love, the other that of friendship.

    In Titsingh’s Japan will be found an illustration of Takasago no ura. ↩

  4. He compares his couch with the crane’s nest, usually figured as built amid the Takasago pine branches. The crane, like the tree, was a symbol of longevity⁠—the tortoise also; Pine, Crane, and Tortoise (long haired) with the Ancient Pair are commonly represented together. ↩

  5. There is here an allusion to a dress of the colour of autumn leafery, but the leaves themselves are also regarded as a sort of vestment. ↩

  6. An allusion to the phrase koto no ha (“leaves of speech”) for kotoba. ↩

  7. A somewhat bold attempt to represent the wordplay in the text. ↩

  8. The Manyoshiu. ↩

  9. Sumiyoshi = “where (or when) ’tis good to dwell (exist).” ↩

  10. Yengi means “prolong-joy,” it is the name of a year-period (AD ⁠–⁠). ↩

  11. There is a wordplay here on haru, which means Spring, and also to clear up (as weather). ↩

  12. These lines are sung at weddings as an epithalamium. At such ceremonies, in various ways, the story of the Twain Trees is represented. ↩

  13. This passage is poetized prose. There exists a stanza on the pine-blossom that shows only once in a millennium. The floral organs of the pine were, of course, not understood in Old Japan. ↩

  14. Written “spread out islands”⁠—a name for Japan. Possibly an ancient capital is intended. ↩

  15. Or possibly the shite only. The speech is called kuse, which may be rendered as “chief argument,” or “inner meaning,” or “precept” of the piece. ↩

  16. A poet who flourished in the reign of the first Ichijo (⁠–⁠). ↩

  17. A play on the character for pine 松, which may be dissected into 八十 (80 = many), 公, nobles or princes. ↩

  18. Shi Hwangti, the Chinese Emperor, BC 259⁠–⁠210, who bestowed rank upon a Pine-tree that gave him shelter from a shower of rain. ↩

  19. Or perhaps one or more of the musicians or songmen (utahi gata). ↩

  20. I.e. Takasago and Suminoye. ↩

  21. See note 9. ↩

  22. What the god chants here is said to have been of his own composition. There is considerable doubt as to the personages of the remaining dialogue. I take the view that they are the god and the chorus⁠—the god, as ato-shite, being represented by the shite with changed dress and mask. ↩

  23. The god came originally from Aokigahara (see Zoku Kokin, a continuation of Songs Old and New). ↩

  24. Asakayama is in Settsu. Another hill, so named, is in Michinoku. ↩

  25. Or “my.” The vagueness is characteristic of Japanese poetry, and often, as here, is not without effect as broadening the field of suggestion. ↩

  26. The meaning of this passage is not quite clear. ↩

  27. The last three lines are a slightly paraphrased rendering of the text. “Blue Sea Wave,” “Joyeuse Rentrée,” “Joy of a Thousand Autumns,” and “Joy of a Myriad Years,” are all titles of Chinese musical pieces. ↩

  28. Hito akiudo (人商人). They bought, or kidnapped, youths of agreeable appearance for service in temples. ↩

  29. Become a nun. ↩

  30. Konohasakuyahime. ↩

  31. A stanza from the Kokinshiu. ↩

  32. A stanza from the Kokinshiu, by Tsurayuki. ↩

  33. Of Maternal and Filial Duty, which cannot be fulfilled apart. ↩

  34. The doctorine of Karma. Every relationship, a chance likeness of name, a casual brushing of sleeves, betokens some past or future affinity. ↩

  35. The priest has asked the villager why the woman speaks so sensibly, and suggested that he should say something that will set her off raving, so that he may be amused! The villager thereupon tells her that the blossoms are being scattered by the breeze.

    A similar situation in the Kiōjomono is not infrequent. A mad woman is produced as an entertainment for visitors, and her ravings, serve for their diversion.

    In Minazukibarai, for instance, a villager says to one who enquires what sights his district offers, “There is a young madwoman here⁠ ⁠… the way she dances about is most amusing⁠ ⁠… I’ll show her to you.”

    In Hanjo, a servant, on his master’s behalf, addresses Hanako, “Why dost thou not rave to day, Mad Woman? Rave now to amuse us.” Strange idea of fun⁠—yet not so strange when one remembers that, a century ago, people of fashion used to make up parties to view the antics of lunatics confined in Bedlam. ↩

  36. These ten lines are transferred bodily from Chinese verse. ↩

  37. “To shelter under the same tree, to dip one’s hand in the same stream.” Even such trifling affinities as these are preordained, so that there must be some previous cause from a previous existence connecting Sakurago with the Sakuragawa. The Japanese view of life was strongly coloured by the Karma doctrine. ↩

  38. So Wu. ↩

  39. I.e. a moon that has no phases. ↩

  40. It must be remembered that the properties and scene are not representational but symbolic, the hero-actor simply says in effect, “Pretend that that is the tree and that the mountain.” ↩

  41. There is here the double-entente. The blossom will really come out: it is a day of anniversary or something of that kind; also Genji will appear in his proper glory, as the audience knows, though the Waki does not. ↩

  42. That is, this present manifestation in the shape of an old man will fade. ↩

  43. The “soothsayer” is literally “the physiognomist from Korea.” ↩

  44. Chujo, naidaijin, etc. are names for different grades of office. ↩

  45. The characters often give their own stage directions or explain the meaning of their acts, as in the last line here. ↩

  46. The Four Kings, i.e. of the four points of the compass. Devas (spirits) and Men occupy the position immediately below the Gods. ↩

  47. More precisely “He became the place.” You can compare this with Buckle, or Jules Romains’ studies in unanimism. ↩

  48. Atsumori must have done Kumagai some kindness in a former incarnation. This would account for Kumagai’s remorse. ↩

  49. Buddha. ↩

  50. I have omitted a line the force of which depends upon a play on words. ↩

  51. The Taira evacuated the Capital in the second year of Juyei, . ↩

  52. Ichi-no-Tani means “First Valley.” ↩

  53. The name of so humble a thing was unfamiliar to the Taira lords. ↩

  54. Atsumori. This passage is mimed throughout. ↩