THE TALE OF MATSURA: FUJIWARA TEIKA'S EXPERIMENT IN FICTION
Translated with an Introduction and Notes by Wayne P. Lammers
Michigan Monogarph Series in Japanese Studies, Number 9
Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Center for Japanese Studies, 1992

Fujiwara Teika is known among students of Japanese literature as the premier poet and literary scholar of early thirteenth century Japan; he has even been called "the single most important influence in the entire history of classical poetry" (Robert Brower, "The Reizei Family Documents," Monumenta Nipponica 36.4, 1981). It is not so widely known, however, that, in his youth, he also tried his hand at fiction--quite a remarkable endeavor in an era when writing fiction was considered strictly the province of women: Mumyozoshi ("Untitled Leaves"; ca. 1201) refers to "several works" by Teika and then names The Tale of Matsura as the only one that can be considered a success.

The tale is of interest for the way in which it reflects aesthetic ideals that were prominent in Teika's poetry. It also shows a certain playful streak: Teika ends the tale with two lacunae and a four-part colophon that are intended to make the reader think that the work was originally written as much as a century before Taketori Monogatari ("The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter"; 9th to early 10th century), which The Tale of Genji refers to as "the progenitor" of the genre. The Tale of Matsura: Fujiwara Teika's Experiment in Fiction provides a complete, annotated translation of the tale along with an introductory essay and an appendix that brings together the evidence on authorship and dating.

In a nutshell, the story is about the adventures of a young Japanese courtier, Ujitada, who travels to China as deputy ambassador to the Chinese court around the turn of the 8th century. Ujitada's superior accomplishments quickly win him the favor of the Chinese emperor, and when the emperor is on his deathbed he asks Ujitada to look after his son. In the ensuing succession struggle, Ujitada, with the help of the Japanese god of Sumiyoshi, emerges as the hero who cuts down the rebel general and preserves the emperor's dynasty. Having lost the first love of his youth while in Japan to the emperor himself, Ujitada is destined to fall in love with two mysterious beauties in China who keep him guessing whether he is waking or dreaming. The largest part of the story focuses on these two ethereal love affairs. The following passage, from shortly after Ujitada has saved the dynasty, is the beginning of the second of these.

As daylight gave way to evening shadows, the dreariness of his interminable reverie grew greater than Ujitada could bear. Restlessly, aimlessly, he set out for a walk, and before long had wandered out of the city into hill country, where the scent of flowering plums came to him from every direction. Proceeding in the direction of the most alluringly scented breath of wind, he arrived at a cluster of dwellings nestled against the side of a small mountain. In the distance he could hear the wind sighing in the pines, and as the last light of the evening faded into darkness the moon rose above the ridge of the mountain to cast its cool, clear brightness across a sky now emptied of clouds. Entranced by the serene beauty of the night, Ujitada pressed on through a large grove of trees.

To his ear came several strains of music. Could it be a hichiriki? he wondered. He had never found the tones of the instrument especially to his liking back home in Japan, but it sounded so different here, more beautiful than anything he had ever heard. It was, no doubt, an effect of this place he had come to. The hichiriki was known as a sho here in China.

Now I can believe the ancient legend, thought Ujitada, about the princess who was carried away to the realm of the immortals for her playing of the sho. Tears of wonder welled in his eyes.

The nation was till in mourning for the deceased emperor, and the sound of strings and pipes had not been heard elsewhere for quite some time. Perhaps it owed to the remoteness of this mountain region that music was being played here. But what kind of person would it be who lived in a place like this?

Still searching for the source of the music, Ujitada came upon a lady dressed most elegantly, standing alone before a simple pinewood gate. Her face was hidden behind a fan and Ujitada could not see clearly what manner of woman she might be.

"Who are you, and why do you stand here before this gate?" he asked.

Without answering, she turned to go inside. Ujitada followed. Although the grounds were in need of care, the building itself stood tall and elegant, not at all like the rustic structure at the desolate estate he had visited on Mount Shang. The pillars seemed new, their color fresh and unweathered. The bamboo blinds, still green, stood out all the more vividly because it was a time when the blinds at the palace had been dulled in observance of the national mourning.

The fragrance of plum blossoms filled the air, and from within this building came the music Ujitada had heard. He started to follow the woman up the steps into the building, but paused to listen before reaching the top. The place was completely quiet, with no sounds to indicate that anyone else was about. He peeked through a crack in the blinds: the musician was apparently a lady. The wonderful perfume that came from within seemed somehow familiar to him, and Ujitada marveled that it was a remarkable land indeed where there could be another lady like the empress dowager in such a remote place.

Still curious about just what sort of place he had come to, Ujitada circled around the veranda to the right. He found no signs of people about; no one stopped him to challenge his intrusion. Returning to the front of the building, he entered the main room, but even now there was no indication that anyone would come forward to speak to him.

The tones of the music seemed to rise clearer and purer as the night deepened. Breathing deeply the intoxicating fragrance of plum, Ujitada listened in rapture. Nothing could have induced him to leave; instead, he slid farther into the room.

The lady with the sho indicated no surprise at his movement, and played on without interruption. Since the room was deep and she was seated near the back, Ujitada still could not see her clearly. The strangeness of it all brought, for a moment, a twinge of fear, but enticed by the scent that so thickly filled the air, he moved yet closer. Even then the lady seemed not to notice him.

"I came in search of your wondrous music, under the bewitching spell of the moon," he said, but his words were to no avail, for the lady remained silent. Charmed by the uncanny familiarity of her perfume, Ujitada tugged at her sleeve, then took her hand. She showed no alarm, nor did she shrink from his touch. The absence of the slightest indication of shock or rebuff aroused Ujitada to further boldness; he drew her to him. She pliantly yielded to his embrace, and he could no longer restrain himself. He was more helplessly captive to his worldly passions now than he had ever been before.

His meeting with Princess Hua-yang had been like a meeting with the moon that courses the heavens; it had not seemed to be of this world. But the experienced and welcoming manner in which this lady responded to his advances suggested that she was most certainly of this world. Her alluring charm and beauty were beyond compare. Ujitada thought how unbearable it would be to be parted even for a moment from such a lady, but no amount of begging or imploring could bring her to speak. She remained silent, and merely added her own endless flow of tears to Ujitada's.

Had the night been as long as a thousand nights, it would not have been long enough, and yet already the cock was crowing. Neither Ujitada nor the lady stirred. Ujitada could think of no place to go even if he should rise. He wished instead that his life might come to an end on that very spot.

The waiting woman--the lady who had been standing by the gate the night before--began noisily clearing her throat to call their attention to the hour, but the lady in Ujitada's arms, perhaps because she, too, was still overcome with emotion, did not try to hurry him away. She went on weeping and said nothing.

The waiting woman came nearer. "It is beginning to grow light," she said. "This is a most disagreeable place in the daytime." She seemed exceedingly anxious that he be on his way.

As they gathered up their garments and began to dress, Ujitada hardly felt alive. In vain would one attempt to describe how bereft of soul he felt by the time he actually departed. He could see from the lady's expression that the parting was as painful to her as it was to him, but even now she did not speak.

Over and over Ujitada repeated his vow to come back again, both to the lady and to the serving woman, and then finally took his leave.

He emerged from the building feeling no more certain of what had taken place than if he had been walking on air, and irrepressible doubts quickly arose in his heart. He called one of his close attendants to his side.

"Stay here and watch this building," he said. "If anyone comes out, follow her and find out where she goes."

Leaving him behind, Ujitada made all haste for the city. It would be unseemly to be seen like this in full daylight.

It was not long before his man returned with a report. "I watched carefully to see if anyone would come out of the building, but though I waited no one emerged. Nor did I hear any sounds of people inside. It all seemed so strange, I decided to go in and take a look around. Finding no one at all in the main house, I finally came upon an old, white-haired woman in an outbuilding some distance away. I asked her who lived in the main house, and she told me no one did. Apparently travelers sometimes spend the night there, she said, but she never troubles herself to check on them."

A strange mystery--indeed, too strange to let pass. But Ujitada was not at liberty to excuse himself from the day's proceedings at court. Quickly he changed into court dress and hurried to the palace.

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A Critical Introduction

1. Fujiwara Teika and Matsura no Miya Monogatari
2. The Aesthetic of Yoen in a Narrative Context
3. The Manuscripts and Texts

   The Tale

4. Book One
5. Book Two
6. Book Three

   Appendixes

7. Evidence on DatingMatsura no Miya Monogatari
8. The Authorship of Matsura no Miya Monogatari
9. Bibliography

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