Review: The Tale of Genji, by Lady Murasaki Shikibu, Japan, 1000AD; a novel in 6-parts, translated from Japanese by Arthur Waley; first Modern Library Giant Edition, 1960; Random House, Inc.. Comments and generated poems(C)1998 A. Alexander Volenski Unedited Excerpts The Tale of Genji, a novel considered to be the first full-novel ever recorded in the world. Lady Murasaki, court lady who was the author of the 'Genji mongatari' (The Tale of Genji), said to be the greatest work of Japanese literature. Her real name is unknown, it is perhaps that she acquired the name Murasaki from the leading feminine character and wife of Genji in the novel; she kept a diary between 1007-1010AD. The novel is long and extremely complex, yet it has a style in reading and description which is in everyday expression. It also gives detailed glimpses into the court of Japan, and glances into China, and Religions of the world. Most of the story is about Prince Genji and the women in his life; their sensuality's, sensitivities, and shared love. Here, intimate love emotions between a man and woman, are refracted by the beauties of nature (metaphorically) with a kind of 'hidden code' as well, all mirrored with a human 'inner' emotional-awareness expression. The authoress even reaches into an area between life and death, and the realms of the spirit, also she shows the struggles with the 'magical', and of 'possession' by a Spirit; the supernatural region itself is described with pure imagery, though only momentary, yet it is there. This story is exceptional, The Tale of Genji I would say far exceeds anything written on this subject in Western Literature. Murasaki, in simple/complexities describes in more detail the true depth of emotional ties which a person has to self, and also the world in which they reside. The often mystical human passions, are linked in parallel to nature, the realms of the land-beyond, and also the 'cosmic link'; Murasaki definitely, a woman with knowledge, awareness, and understanding of the immortal aspects. The woman is in touch with herself, with the surrounding world, and most important the spiritual; she perceives the false-image of death, and she is aware of death's illusions, and the problems created outside this novel by powerfully blind men and women who have lost sight of Love. The Royal Lady of the Moon-- Murasaki, of the first ones, and the fisherman and his daughter saw the moon, its color deep red, and they sighed within, of what-- it signified. One must realize that The Tale of Genji is large, it is massive, and covers not only the entire life of a Prince, but also weaves the highest intellictual communications. Some expression-lines which were generated from The Tale of Genji are here within this poetical presentation; something for this time to that time, and I pray Lady Murasaki will not be displeased with these efforts, a thousand years later. So here to begin. From the Field of Reeds, to the High Plains of Heaven, the winds do blow, and from its journey the moon shall reach a clearer sky. At the sound of the wind that blows the cold dew, my heart goes out to the tender flower stem. And though with all my heart I tried to leave it behind me, never for a moment has it left me-- the fair face of that mountain flower. Like tears of the heart, the dewdrops on the grass fall if they are touched, and within it all, one knows that the glittering hailstones melt if gathered in the hand. And in their faith and innocence, the wild-geese do fly as we acknowledge that, unafraid, the flocks explore the shifting highways of the air-- all singing as they travel along, "I have no fear but that my leader should outwing me in the empty sky." In all of this the mystery is there, the wonder also, and as the dear sweet moon continues too, a wonder--how shall it be? The Sacred Tree touched my door-step, and beyond the grass of the lawn glowed white silver with new snow. We must not be self-centered in conceit, and realize that though the poor man's hedge grows tattered, we must not fail sometimes to look with kindness upon the Child-flower, that grows so sweetly there. An altered and a lonely man seems to this my wilderness sojourn. But still unchanged the wind blows music through the trees. I, that am a visitor here, scarce know the way from valley to valley; only this crystal spring of the forest remembers still and meditates the ancient secrets of this land. There are times that I feel a stranger to the breath and touch which I have, oh weary traveler, finding small converse to comfort as sweet sad moon does whisper. Such is the plight where tears whisper too, like two friends alone in the vastness of the sky. Far off now is the dear companion of my happier days, and seems, none are here who comprehend the broken language of my song. Though one be born alone in wisdom-- upon the air her sweet emotions fair, her gifts of sorrows tear tremble the heart, yet Joy too, there, proceeds upon waves telling. Thus does her whisper pray succeed, wisdom warm and full-- how else could tears appear, roll and tumble too to flower bloom; in nourishment alone the petals seek...to find their search. Wisdom's great hall--records tall, large and small, and of all colors and shapes, some locked away hidden like a flower in a seed is hidden; yet dewdrop opens. O mist, I long to follow with my eyes the road you pass upon, for I know how swiftly locks rust and hinges stiffen, on doors that close behind us. And on doors that close behind us, blushing love; only memory pleads, will wisdom listen? Wisdom pure emotion; memory has a way to touch-- O mist I still long to follow with my eyes the wafting way you glide upon, for I know the decisiveness of where I am-- heavens constant bewilderment. Yes, a dew drop tear within her eyes kissed mine with tears. How else would I a man be here? ~ Because of all the stars that wreathe the night sky, I know not which ascended too-- thus, upon that cosmic starry realm, from pole to pole I gaze with love. And though I know Paradise be there, still in my heart-- to enter, I also know that I cannot enter if still earthly things are on my mind. O immortal realm so gleaming from where loves glance always seems, we who long have sworn that death alone should part us, must suffer life for once-- to cancel all our vows; how have we thus become? ~ A small plinking stream flows into an Ancient pond, a frog leaps into the sound of water. On shoots of nearby reeds a spiders web is suspended, smooth symphonic silk. Sudden breeze fluffs that lace, gossamer strings intrigue, a motion tingle song. The spider listens, the frog sighs, as wind chimes calm their spirit moment call. Then two birds embracing wing in wing, fly-by singing, all is clever. The moon above endless quest is present too, her quiet journey light to ever reach a clearer sky. ~ Note: here are a few excerpts from the book, The Tale of Genji, just some random selections for fun...yet one must realize that the entire novel is more than fun, for it constantly is dealing with love, the universal design and link to our immortal self...and though love often appears to be fun, still one realizes that struggles are often present too...and one must truly understand that, "within the heart one finds peace when love is there..." and of course within that love are many emotional quivers too... some sad, some just fun, some very pleasurable to have... And to begin: "for as long as the cherry-blossoms remain unscattered upon the shore of Onoe, where wild storms blow - so long have you till now been constant!" 'For my part, I am very uneasy about the matter.' "Was it the shadows in the mountain well that told you my purpose was but a jest?' To which she answered, 'Some perhaps that have drawn in that well now bitterly repent. Can the shadows tell me if again it will be so?' "Tis you, you only who have loitered among the shallow pools: while I till all my limbs were drenched have battled through the thickets of love's dark track." And he (Genji) ended with the words: 'Had but a ray of comfort lighted the troubles of this house, I should myself have been the bearer of this note.' Yet there was not one person among those about her with whom she could bring herself to discuss such things, and all this pent-up misery seemed only to increase the strange process of dissolution which had begun to attack her mind. 'Though I wander in strange lands and far away, in this mirror let me leave my image, that it may never quit your side.' (She responds), 'That, ye, even so little as that, would comfort me, if indeed this mirror might hold the image of your distant face.' Genji too alighted from his horse and turning his face towards the Shrine repeated this parting poem: 'Thou who art called the Righter of Wrongs, to Thee I leave it to clear the name that stays behind me, now that I am driven from the fleeting haunts of men.' With this letter was the poem: 'How pleasantly the shadow of the laurel-tree must fall upon the waters in the village beyond the stream!' "As the fisher's flare that follows close astern, so in those days and in these has misery clung to my tossing bark, and followed me from home to home." 'My love,' he answered, 'is like the secret flame that burns brightly because it is hidden from sight; yours is like the fisherman's torch, that flares up in the wind and presently is spent. No, no; you are right,' he said after a pause; 'life (yours and mine alike) is indeed a wretched business.' ~ So, I pause here for awhile... "and may the moon, silver candle of the Earth, bring us all into a brighter day." And to Lady Murasaki I bow my head and say, "may the snow sprinkled upon the brow, be freshly soothing, as we both dance, the dance of love, and may the mist open too, that doors be found-- that we may soar the open way." members.tripod.com 2002