(This paper is remarkable for its attention to the ideas of comparative
literature, that is, to Japanese literature and Chinese literature in
particular.  It is not a perfect paper in terms of its English expression
and could benefit from proofreading and editing (macrons and the like for
Japanese terms), yet it contains some fascinating, original, and exciting
ideas.  For this reason, this paper has received very high marks. KLR)

TERM DIARY
        ON :
                                        1. MAKURA NO SOSHI
                                        2. HEIKE MONOGATARI
                                        3. HOJOKI
                                        4. TSUREZUREGUSA
                                        5. SHIKOKINSHU
                                        6. THE NOH DRAMA
                                                                               To       : Prof. Kenneth Richard                 Prepared by     :
Yuen-Ping Wong
                     Date       : December 2, 1996
        MAKURA NO SOSHI

        Judging from the English translation of the title of the book, The Pillow
Book, I mistook Makura No Soshi for a book concerning about sex when I first
saw it in our syllabus. Should the author, Sei Shonagon, learn about this
misinterpretation, she would definitely cry out 'Okashi' - a word which
means 'ridiculous' in modern days. In fact, 'Okashi' is the key word that is
most often used in Makura No Soshi, but with a different meaning of
'amusing' or 'funny' or 'charming' at that time. It signifies 'a reaction of
pleasure and usually of amusement' (KS 422). Indeed Shonagon writes her
stray notes for fun. She recounts the types of materials that are included
in her book: 
                I chose lines of poetry that people find amusing, and things that
everybody is apt to admire. ...... I wrote down, in a spirit of fun and
without help from anyone else, whatever happened to suggest itself to me.
(KS 421)
                
        Because she writes in a spirit of fun, her notes are often filled with
humour and emotions about events of life. In one passage she writes about
returning from somewhere near a shrine after hearing the cuckoo sing. She
and her companions find that 'it would be too dull to finish the day without
anyone having seen [them] in [their] splendor [their carriage decorated with
a huge branch of white-flower]' (K 141). They stop by the house of a Captain
who is the Empress's cousin, and intend to ask him to see their carriage.
But they do not want to wait for him to come out since he has to take some
time to put on his court clothes, and so they continue their way back to the
palace. It was amusing when I read about the poor Captain chasing after the
carriage in the rain while he is still buckling his belt as he ran, with a
trail of his dressers and grooms panting barefooted behind. I can imagine
that the Captain looks like a fool in front of the girls.
        In the episode of 'The Cat Who Lived in the Palace', Shonagon relates that
the Emperor chastises and banishes the Dog Okinamaro to the Dog Island
because it has scared the Noble Cat Lady Myobu. The people in the court are
so sad when they presume that a dog which has been found beaten to death is
Okinamaro. However, Okinamaro returns one day, whimpering and trembling. The
court is overjoyed and the Dog is finally granted an Imperial pardon. I can
understand that many people establish intimate relationship with their
animals, but I find it amusing in the way how the court treats animals as
human beings, like: to award the Cat a head-dress of nobility, to banish the
Dog, and later to grant it an Imperial pardon.
        Shonagon writes about what she sees. Since she is a lady-in-waiting to the
Empress, a considerable number of passages are on her experiences at the
court. These diary entries include people and actual events which can be
dated. I would consider these non-fiction prose anecdotes to be documentary
writings which embellish our knowledge about the court life at that time. 
        Shonagon also displays her observations of nature and of other people's
behaviour. I am surprised at the style she employs in writing some passages
about nature. On topics about mountains, peaks, plains, islands, bays,
capes, and beaches etc., she simply records their names, without further
development on the subject. I believe this is the essence of the style of
zuihitsu - following the brush. She merely jot down what happens to come
across her mind. 
        I am greatly impressed by how Shonagon sees the world. The world she
observes is pleasing to her eyes. There is charm in almost anything. Her
world is a beautiful one. In the first passage about seasons, she finds
something beautiful in each season: the dawn in spring, the nights in
summer, the evenings in autumn, and the early mornings in winter. She likes
almost every month. To her, 'each month has its own particular charm, and
the entire year is a delight'(Morris 1)  . I can imagine that she must be a
joyful, optimistic and confident lady, showing a positive attitude towards life.
        Makura No Soshi is well known for its exhaustive lists, and I enjoy reading
them so much, particularly on the lists about depressing things and hateful
things. I share her same feeling about depressing things like a returned
letter, a hopeful candidate who fails to receive a post during the period of
official appointment while his friends are gathering in his house to assume
his success, a woman waiting excitedly for her expected lover but finds that
the person who taps her door is someone with whom she has no connection.
When I read about the list of the hateful things, I can't help agreeing
whole-heartedly on the following paragraph: 
                To envy others and to complain about one's own lot; to speak badly about
people; to be inquisitive about the most trivial matters and to resent and
abuse people for not telling one, or, if one does manage to worm out some
facts, to inform everyone in the most detailed fashion as if one had known
all from the beginning -- oh, how hateful! (Morris 26)
                
These hateful things are so true and they are equally applicable in today's
office life. I would like to add to back-stab at one*s co-worker is even
more hateful.
        Although it occurs to me that these lists lacks depth in them, for a moment
they inspire me to think of similar trivial incidents which I have ignored,
and may lead me to think of my own lists too.
        Shonagon's descriptions on a lover who is leaving at dawn announces that he
has to find his fan and his paper is very amusing to me. She depicts the
situation so vividly that I can picture it clearly in my mind. Imagine in
the midst of darkness, the lover is 'fumbling about all over the place,
knocking into everything and muttering to himself' (K138). Finally he finds
the fan, he 'swishes it open and begins flapping it about'(K138). The
description is really fascinating. In many passages in the book, Shonagon
describes disappointing lovers as well as puts forward her opinion on ideal
lovers. I would imagine that she has had quite some experiences on love
affairs with many men.
        Shonagon appears to me as a feminist. She contempts those women who live at
home and serve their husbands faithfully, and she criticizes them harshly: 
                .... women who have not a single exciting prospect in life yet who believe
that they are perfectly happy - I am filled with scorn. Often they are of
quite good birth, yet have had no opportunity to find out what the world is
like. (Morris 20)
                
While she despises housewives, she herself enjoys very much the aspects of
life as a lady-in-waiting at the court.
        I notice that she does not think highly of old people. She remarks that
'old people can really be quite shameless' (Morris 25). She uses the
disrepectful word 'old creature' to describe the old people. She despises an
old man 'who has lived to be too old' (Morris 25). This reminds me of a
Japanese movie about village people during hard times in the old days. It is
a custom for the old people to go up to the mountain and wait there to die,
so as to spare food for the rest of the family and not to be a burden to
them. This is really cruel to the aged ones. 
        Being a favourite of the Empress, unquestionably, Shonagon is a woman of
remarkable wit and talent. She displays her flashing impressions and
delicate touches in Makura No Soshi. Her writing maintain freshness and
individuality. I am most impressed by her witty perceptions and unflattering
observations about various people, though sometimes her wit has a cruel side.
        HEIKE MONOGATARI

        Heike Monogatari is originally an oral work recited by a class of blind
chanters who are known as biwa hoshi. Since the tale is transmitted by
different people at different times, numerous versions exist, and it is
quite impossible to present a unified authorial voice. That is the reason
why I find that the tale appears to be fragmented. At the same time, I
notice that it does not allow depth of characterization, for it is a war
tale to be narrated rather than to be read, and usually the audience is more
interested in the warfare than the description of the characters. The
audience will portray their own heroes through the accounts of brave deeds
of the battles. However, it is possible that the narrators may embellish the
original story to suit the preferences of different audiences when they tell
the tale.
        Detailed descriptions of the life of people or the attire like in Genji
Monogatari are absent in Heike Monogatari. Heike Monogatari is a different
type of literary work from Genji Monogatari. It is not fictional; all
characters in the tale have actually existed and all events have literally
happened in history. It describes events, but seldom mentions motivation.
While I am reading the tale, it occurs to me that an objective observer is
presenting a series of facts; there is not much deep feeling or emotion
involved. 
        There are episodes in the tale that capture my mind. Sanemori, an old Heike
warrior, is courageous at the age of over seventy to go into battles and
compete with the youths. Not only that, he even dyes his hair and beard
black to make himself look young, so as not 'to suffer the humiliation of
being dismissed as an old man' (McCullough 234) . I am impressed by the way
he honors his profession as a warrior all his life and his persistent
loyalty to the Heike family till his death. 
        The death of Atsumori is a dramatic episode. The Genji warrior Naozane
intends to spare the life of young Heike warrior Atsumori, who is a youth at
the same age as Naozane's son. But in the end Naozane is compelled to kill
Atsumori because there are other Genji warriors coming along behind him. He
is so overwhelmed by compassion and he weeps bitterly, grieving over the
necessity of killing. 
                I would never have suffered such a dreadful experience if I had not been
born into a military house. How cruel I was to kill him!' (McCullough 317)

In this episode, I notice the dramatic contrast between the two characters.
Atsumori, the young and hard-hearted courtier versus Naozane, the old and
soft-hearted warrior. Naozane is aroused of his paternal love; he wants to
spare Atsumori, and he addresses to Atsumori politely. But Atsumori just
answers abruptly. Naozane promises to pray for Atsumori's rebirth in
Paradise when he knows he has no other choices but to kill him. However,
Atsumori does not express any gratitude. "Cut off my head at once" is his
only response, I feel sorry for Naozane because his kindness is not
appreciated by Atsumori. The episode ends dramatically in Naozane turning
his mind towards the religious life. The melancholy lingers in my heart. 
        In my opinion, Heike Monogatari can be regarded as a parable of change.
Politically, it tells the change of supremacy from the Taira clan to the
Minamoto clan. The Taira clan under Kiyomori's leadership, attains the
zenith of its prosperity and wealth.
                Other men obeyed his [Kiyomori's] commands as grass bends before wind;
people everywhere looked to him for aid as soil welcomes moistening rain.
Not even a scion of a ministerial house could stand face to face or shoulder
to shoulder with the gentleman from Rokuhara. "All who do not belong to this
clan must rank as less than men," said Kiyomori's brother-in-law.
(McCullough 28)
                
However, outwardly all submit, but inwardly there are none who do not
dislike the Heike rule. The mounting evil deeds of the Heike soon lead to
their tragic end. I find that the celebrated opening passage of the tale
serves as a moral message, and it is a perfect allegory of the downfall of
the Heike:
                The sound of the Gion Shoja bells echoes the impermanence of all things;
the color of the sala flowers reveals the truth that the prosperous must
decline. The proud do not endure, they are like a dream on a spring night;
the mighty fall at last, they are as dust before the wind. (McCullough 23)
                
The Heike holds the Empire in their hands for only as brief as about twenty
years, and the sons of the Heike vanish forever from the face of earth.
Their glory vanishes hastily like a dream; their reign shatters as dust
before the wind. In fact, I would consider it a universal message, pertinent
to each sovereign at all times.
        Heike Monogatari notes a cultural change. The court*s support for women
writers is eventually transferred to male. Until the late Heian period, most
famous prose works are written by court ladies, such as Genji Monogatari and
Makura No Soshi. I would regard Heike Monogatari as the first masterpiece of
the prose work of the Japanese language which is propagated by man, in
contrast with the Yamato language by women writers of the Heian era.
        Heike Monogatari marks religious changes. It occurs to me that the
mysterious Tendai Buddhism gradually gives way to the Jodo or Pure Land
Buddhism. In Tendai Buddhism, it is through meditation that one attains
salvation. It is a religion for the court nobles during the Heian period.
Kiyomori is said to be "an incarnation of an Archbishop Jie, reborn in Japan
to protect the Tendai doctrines" (McCullough 215). But in the Heike
Monogatari, I notice that there are constant references to Amida Buddha who
is the Buddha of the Pure Land Buddhism. In Pure Land Buddhism, anyone can
achieve self-salvation -- simply through the belief in the Amida Buddha. One
can be saved and attain the goal of rebirth in the Pure Land merely by
calling the name of Amida Buddha. In this way, general people can practise
Buddhism, and thus Tendai Buddhism is democratised.
        Finally, it suggests to me that Heike Monogatari also reveals that
spiritual changes are undergoing. The aesthetic emphasis among  the Heian
courtiers is gradually shifted to the admiration of the samurai spirit which
implies the exhibition of martial skills and undying loyalty. The Heian
aesthetics is demonstrated in the episode of the death of Atsumori. After
Naozane has killed Atsumori, he finds a flute in Atsumori's brocade bag. In
recalling that Atsumori must be one of the people who was making music
inside the stronghold before dawn, Naozane remarks that how refined are
these courtiers, and he exclaims with certainty that none of the riders in
the Minamoto armies would have brought a flute to the battlefield. In
another incident, the Genji has commented that 'the Heike has produced
generations of talented poets, musicians and artists' (McCullough 341). So
it is obvious that the Heike courtiers cherish the aesthetic value to a
great extent. On the other hand, the images of the Genji conveyed to me in
Heike Monogatari are mostly fierce fighters and that they worship honour and
the sword. As it is known in history, the bushido spirit exalted by the
successive Kamakura bakufu government has become the unwritten code of law
that governs the lives and conduct of the nobles. This spiritual change, in
my opinion, is most apparent in Heike Monogatari.
        HOJOKI

        According to my understanding, Hojo (         ) besides being denoted as
'ten foot square', it also has the meaning of 'an abbot'. In my opinion,
Hojoki can also be translated as 'An Account of An Abbot', which I consider
as appropriate as the title of 'An Account of My Hut'. The author, Kamo No
Chomei, not only describes the ten foot hut which is his hermitage refuge,
but also gives a detail account on his witness of several calamities, which
he likens them to be the end of the world. The devastating consequences of
these calamities steer him to realize the mujo (impermanence) and the
shortness of life. It is the combination of mujo and mappo (the latter days
of the buddhist law) that cause him to withdraw from the world and lead a
reclusive life in his small hut. I believe Chomei has employed the word Hojo
as a pun. He is the abbot of his own little world, and his helpers are his
own hands and own feet:
                ... but I find it simpler to work than to employ a servant and look after
him. ..... I divide my body and make two uses of it: my hands are my
servants, my feet my vehicle, and they suit me well. (Keene 210) 
                
        I observe that Hojoki deals with events occured in the same late Heian
period as in Heike Monogatari, but with a different point of view. Heike
Monogatari is basically a war tale accounting for the historical conflict
and warfare between the Taira clan and the Minamoto clan. But Hojoki is
confined to the description of disasters wrought by nature but not by man.
Chomei relates the calamities which convince him of the independability of
this world. It appears to me that he uses the house as a metaphor for the
fortunes of the people who inherit them. When calamities occur, these
fortunes vanish in an instant. In the Great Fire, houses are burnt down into
ashes. In the whirlwind, houses are damaged or destroyed, and 'innumerable
treasures from within the houses were tossed into the sky' (Keene 199). In
the famine, 'those without other resources broke up their own houses and
took the wood to sell in the market' (Keene 202). In the earthquake,
buildings collapse or tumble over. Needless to say, numerous of lives are
lost in these dreadful disasters. Besides these calamities, Chomei considers
the moving of the capital to be a disaster too. In the moving, houses are
dismantled and floated down the Yodo River. It suggests to me that Chomei
does not want to torment himself by putting up with all the things of this
unhappy world anymore. He chooses to retire from this intolerable
cataclysimic world. 
        Heike Monogatari can be regarded as a parable of change - politically,
culturally, religiously, and spiritually. I find that Hojoki also describes
changes, but these changes are of people's daily life amidst the
catastrophe. For example, after the moving of the capital, ox-carts falls
into disuse whereas horses are prized; men who should been riding in
carriages are on horsebacks; men are clothed in simple service dress instead
of wearing court robes. The world of Sei Shonagon in Makura No Soshi was a
world of fun and charm, but the world of Chomei is changed to one of mujo
and sufferings. I find that Chomei is a sensitive and pessimistic person,
and 'each stroke of misfortune had naturally made [him] realize the
fragility of [his] life' (Keene 206). He is unable to improve the situation;
he cries inwardly. He considers that to change himself is his only way. Thus
he turns his back to the world to become a monk and lives a hermit life. 
        I  notice that he is content with his simple but tasteful and natural life
in his ten foot hut. His needs in life are reduced to just some food for his
flesh, thoughts for his mind, and music for his soul. 'Alone I play [the
lute], alone I sing, and this brings joy to my heart' (Keene 208). He holds
neither hatred nor fear. His greatest joy is a quiet nap; his only desire is
to see the beauties of the seasons. This kind of life seems relaxing and
peaceful, but I would consider the attitude to be too negative. It seems to
me that Chomei is afraid of losing what he possesses, therefore he chooses
not to have any attachment to anything. I suppose only those who have
reached senior age and have enjoyed life, who have owned their possessions
but then are struck by some drastic changes, may succeed in abandoning their
normal lives to become hermits.
        Chomei is a Buddhist priest, but it appears to me that to a certain extent,
he is influenced by Taoism. The idea of change is a main one in Chuang-tzu,
who is the sage that elaborates the philosophy of Lao-tzu's Taoism:
                .... existence is not only spontaneity but the state of constant flux and
incessant transformation. .... In Chuang-tzu, change is the main theme. He
conceives of the universe as a great current in which one state succeeds
another in endless procession. No state can be retained, and time cannot be
arrested.  
                 
I find that the opening passage in Hojoki best illustrates this idea of change:
                The flow of the river is ceaseless and its water is never the same. The
bubbles that float in the pools, now vanishing, now forming, are not of long
duration: so in the world are man and his dwellings. (Keene 197)

There is a passage which Chomei questions those who doubt his joy of solitude:
                Fish do not weary of the water, but unless one is a fish one does not know
why. Birds long for the woods, but unless one is a bird one does not know
why. The joys of solitude are similar. Who could understand them without
having lived here? (Keene 211)

It reminds me of a dialogue between Chuang-tzu and his friend Hui Shih in
the chapter of "Autumn's Full Streams" when they watch the fish swim in a
river: 
                        "You're not a fish, so from what do you know that they are enjoying
themselves?"
                        "You're not me either, so from what do you know that I do not know that
the fish are enjoying themselves?" [said Chuang-Tzu]      (Ware 117)  

Both passages relate to the idea of unless one being a fish, one cannot
understand a fish. This similarity also causes me to derive the feeling that
apparently at some points, Chomei has been inspired by the philosophy of Taoism.
        Hojoki is said to be a work of zuihitsu. But I find that there are unity
and continuity between the passages. The book seems to me that it is a
complete story. It is very different from the random notes of Sei Shonagon's
Makura No Soshi, another work of the same category of zuihitsu, which are
fragmented and have no uniform style. 
        TSUREZUREGUSA

        It does not surprise me that Kenko, being a reclusive lay priest in a world
of unstablity of political supremacy, seems to be indifferent to politics.
As what I notice in Tsurezuregusa (Essays In Idleness), he does not relate
to any of the political developments or how his own way of life might be
affected by those violent changes. However, what impressed me most is that
he displays great concern in the happenings in the secular world around him.
He has turned his back to the world, but he does not shrink from it.
Although the world is doomed to undergo the misery of mappo, he is
comfortable in it rather than being frightened by it. He is interested in
secular aesthetics and he still keeps contacts with the world. He talks
about what makes for a comfortable house, which is supposed to be 'the
temporary abode' in his Buddhist belief:
                A house should be built with the summer in view. In winter one can live
anywhere, but a poor dwelling in summer is unbearable. .... As for
construction, people agree in admiring a place with plenty of spare room, as
being pleasing to the eye and at the same time useful for all sorts of
purposes. (Keene 238)
                
                There is a charm about a neat and proper dwelling house, although this
world, 'tis true, is but a temporary abode. ....  The man is to be envied
who lives in a house, not of the modern, garnish kind, but set among
venerable trees, with a garden where plants grow wild and yet seem to have
been disposed with care, verandas and fences tastefully arranged, and all
its furnishings simple but antique. (Keene 233)

Also he is interested in secular behavior. He puts forward his opinion about
gentlemanly conduct: in the presence of a new acquaintance, one should not
behave in such a way to make the stranger feel as if he understands nothing
about the conversation which is going on between one and one's companion.
*This is ignorant behavior, and a sure sign of ill breeding' (Keene 239). He
also remarks that:
                Well-bred people do not talk in a superior way even about things they have
a good knowledge of. .... It is a fine thing when a man who thoroughly
understands a subject is unwilling to open his mouth, and only speaks when
he is questioned. (Keene 239)
                
I find that this guideline of conduct of well-breeding and modesty is still
present among the older generation of the Japanese as well as the Chinese
circles. Such a concept of 'unwilling to open his mouth, and only speaks
when he is questioned' may seem inconceivable in the western culture.
        Simplicity is one of Kenko's aesthetic ideals:
                A house which multitudes of workmen have polished with every care, where
strange and rare Chinese and Japanese furnishings are displayed, and even
the grasses and trees of the garden have been trained unnaturally, is ugly
to look at and most depressing. How could anyone live for long in such a
place? (KS 857)
                
On the other hand, his aesthetic inclination that impermanence is an
essential element of beauty seems amazing to me:
                If man were never to fade away like the dews of Adashino, never to vanish
like the smoke over Toribeyama, but lingered on forever in this world, how
things would lose their power to move us! The most precious thing in life is
its uncertainty.(KS 859)

He further suggests that men should not live long. It occurs to me that he
is indicating that there is beauty in perishability. 'At most before his
fortieth year is full, it is seemly for a man for die.* I wonder if it is
his influence that for centuries, Japanese people has regarded the decision
to die as the most beautiful moment in their lives. They look up to the
performing of the seppuku ritual, so as to declare that they are attaining
the zenith of beauty of their life, just like the scattering of the cherry
blossom. 
        The Japanese admiration of impermanence can also be revealed in their love
for the cherry blossoms. The blooming of cherry blossoms is but a brief one.
Yet it is the brevity that gives them beauty; it is the short life that they
are prized.
        I perceive that Kenko's pleasure in impermanence is also associated with
his fondness of irregularity.
                In everything, no matter what it may be, uniformity is undesirable. Leave
something incomplete makes it interesting, and gives one the feeling that
there is room for growth. (KS 858)
                
The logic of Kenko*s preference of irregularity because it allows 'room for
growth' is really inspiring to me. 
        His preference to imperfectness is further illustrated in his emphasis on
the importance of beginnings and ends: 'In all things, it is the beginning
and end that are interesting', just like the hoped-for love affair or the
grief over breaking off from it. At this point, I can readily relate it to
marriages and divorces nowadays. People find it interesting and exciting to
fall in love, to begin a relationship with a lover, so they get married.
Then the excitement fades away; married life becomes boring or even
unbearable. They seek for divorces so as to be free and have fun again.
        I notice that imperfectness serves suggestion:
                Are we to look at blossoms only in full bloom, the moon only when it is
cloudless? To long for the moon while looking on the rain, to lower the
blinds and be unaware of the passing of spring - these are even more deeply
moving. Branches about to blossom or gardens strewn with faded flowers are
worthier of our admiration. (KS 858)
                
It enlightens me to realize that the idea of suggestion, which is able to
convey more than climactic expressions, is a prominent feature in other
Japanese arts. In the Noh drama, though without scenery on the stage, simple
movements of the actor are able to suggest the setting. In poetry, the
limited syllables of a waka or haiku achieve the suggestion of the whole
message of the poem. In flower arrangement, the scanty layout of flowers and
branches may suggest the immenseness of nature - this contrasts with the
western style of flower arrangement which usually uses big bunches of
flowers arranged in one pot symmetrically. In tea ceremony, the speechless
performance of the ceremony suggests peace, harmony and appreciation between
the hostess and the visitors. In landscaping, the different arrangements of
the eleven pieces of stone in the Stone Garden of Ryuanji (         ) in
Kyoto is said to suggest the changes and life in the universe.
        I find that the style of Tsurezuregusa is close to that of Makura No Soshi.
The essays are random with no particular order or theme. Kenko and Shonagon
both love the world they live in and find that there is charm in the world.
However, Shonagon is delighted to reveal the ridicules, sometimes with a
cruel side of her canny perceptions and wit. Kenko's observation is equally
intelligent but he has a more subtle presentation. He treats his messages
with more depth and the messages are woven to his Buddhist belief.
        SHINKOKINSHU

        Poems in Shinkokinshu are characterized by the usage of old words (Kotoba)
with new hearts (Kokoro). I suppose the title of this anthology has
illustrated well this characteristic. The compilers of Shinkokinshu believes
that they live in an era of a great revival of the waka. In the Japanese
preface of Shinkokinshu, it concludes:
                .... we have followed the main-stream of poetry back to its sources, and
have striven to revive this never-ending art. Frosts may succeed dews again
and again, but this collection will not disappear; no matter how many
autumns follow springs, it will remain bright and unclouded as the moon.
.... (KS 658)
                
Kokinshu is one of the most important work as it is the first of anthologies
of waka compiled under imperial sponsorship. In adopting the old title
'Kokinshu' and adding the prefix of 'Shin' to depict the notion of 'New',
the equal importance of Shinkokinshu is revealed. Therefore it conveys to me
the idea of old words with new heart as reflected in the title of the anthology.
        The characteristic of 'old words, new hearts' is made possible by the
practice of honka-dori, which means 'to borrow' from 'original poems'. The
following poem in Shinkokinshu by Princess Shokushi is one borrowed from
priest Henjo's poem in Kokinshu:
                kiri no ha mo           Paulownia leaves
                fumiwakegataku  Too thick to make one's way through
                narinikeri              Have covered the ground.
                kanarazu hito wo        It's not necessarily
                matsu to nakeredo       That I expect anyone .....
                
In this poem, it describes the despair of a woman, who does not even dare to
hope for the lover's visit. However, the source poem by Henjo conveys a
different feeling:
                wa ga yado wa           The weeds grow so thick
                michi mo naki made      You cannot even see the path
                arenikeri               That leads to my house:
                tsurenaki hito wo       It happened while I waited
                matsu to seshi ma ni    For my cold-hearted lover.  (KS 645)
                
Henjo's poem is written in the persona of a woman, but I do not think it
reflects much of his actual emotion. Despite that these two poems has
similar settings and even similar vocabulary, through the process of
borrowing, it enables the former poem to originate a personal new poem from
the latter one and creates a dissimilar effect.
        I notice that poems or imageries in Kokinshu, Ise Monogatari, and Genji
Monogatari are frequent sources of poems in Shinkokinshu. Some imageries
become so popular that they are often found in various poems. One example is
'Aki no yugure' (evening in autumn). It appears at least in the following
three poems:
                1.      Murasame no
                        Tsuyu mo mada hinu
                        Maki no ha ni
                        Kiri tachinoboru
                        Aki no yugure           (Keene 192)
                
                2.      Sabishisa wa
                        Sono iro to shi mo
                        Nakarikeri
                        Maki tatsu yama no
                        Aki no yugure           (Keene 195)
                
                3.      Kokoro naki
                        Mi ni mo aware wa
                        Shirarekeri
                        Shigi tatsu sawa no
                        Aki no yugure           (Keene 195)
                
        As far as I know, honka-dori is not a common practice in Chinese poetry,
and there are no governing rules. However, I recall two short lines which
might be considered as honka-dori:
                                        The beauty of the sunset is immeasurable,
                                        Only that it is close to the dusk.

This poem was originally written by Li Shang-Yin of the T*ang Dynasty. These
two lines express the melancholy on something which is pleasant and
beautiful has to come to an end. However, with slight alterations, the
nature changes:
                                        The beauty of the sunset is immeasurable every evening,
                                        So why feel blue that it is close to the dusk.
                                        
By adding two words in both lines and slightly changing some words in the
second line, the mood of despair is transformed to a positive and optimistic
one. 
        It is said that through honka-dori, poets can be inspired to compose new
poetry, and 'poems borrowed elements from the poetry of the past were
believed to possess greater depth than poems without allusions' (KS 644).
But I doubt that if the reader does not recognise the source poem, it would
be impossible for one to appreciate how the original meaning has been
transformed to communicate with the feelings of a poet of later time. In
fact, it appears to me that the rules of honka-dori would impair the
creative imaginations of the poets, though there is still room for their
personal expression. I am beginning to wonder if the Japanese people has
adopted this practice of honka-dori in their economic development. Before
Japan became an economic power, especially in the 50's or 60's, Japan was
well-known in copying and modifying products or techniques from other
countries. They were so skilful in improving or being inspired by the
borrowed products and techniques that they were capable of manufacturing
better received new products, and eventually they take over the market share
held by the original countries. I am inclined to believe that its economic
success is somehow related to the application of honka-dori.
        Another rhetorical technique employed in Shinkokinshu is shokugire (first
line stop) and Sankugire (third line stop). One example is demonstrated in
the poem by Sueyoshi:
                Sayo chidori            The cries of the night
                Koe koso chikaku        Sanderlings draw closer
                Narumi-gata             To Narumi Beach
                Katabuku tsuki ni       As the moon sinks in the sky
                Shio ya mitsuramu       The tide rises to the full.
                
There is no link in meaning between the second and third line. The third
line is not syntactically related to the rest of the lines. It just floats
there. This technique may achieve the effect of suggestion, but I am afraid
that the message which the poet tries to convey may not be easily
comprehended by the reader, or it could be misinterpretated. 
        The themes of Shinkokinshu include solitude, meditativeness,
monochromicity, mysterious darkness, and ethereal beauty. One of Teika's
poem which demonstrates the monochromicity arouses my interest:
                In this wide landscape
                I see no cherry blossoms
                And no crimson leaves -
                Evening in autumn over
                A straw-thatched hut by the bay. (Keene 196)
                
In this poem, the only colour I can picture is yellow. There are no cherry
blossoms or crimson leaves; the straw is yellowish, and the landscape in
autumn without the red leaves projects a brownish yellow colour too. This
monochromicity also imparts to me a mood of melancholy, and the line 'in the
wide landscape there is only a hut by the bay' suggests a sense of solitude.
        I observe that another feature, mysterious darkness, is typical in
Shinkokinshu. The poem by Shunzei when he lodges at a temple near his wife's
grave captures my mind:
                Even at midnight, 
                When I come so rarely, 
                The sad wind through the pines:
                Must she hear it always
                Beneath the moss?   (BS 103)
                
'Midnight', 'sad wind through the pines', 'beneath the moss'- these words
and phrases produce the striking effect of mystery. They seems to evoke my
thought that the dead is coming back through the wind or is coming out from
beneath the moss. The mystery is displayed in this poem.
        Personally, I do not quite enjoy reading the Shinkokinshu poems. Unless one
is familiar with most Japanese classical works and is capable of catching
all the allusions, the characteristic of honka-dori is not easily
appreciated. Also in my opinion, in honka- dori there is too much
imitations, if not plagiarism, that perhaps suffocates the creativity of
imageries and style.
        THE NOH DRAMA

        The Noh drama is the kind of performing arts that is most difficult for md
to apprehend. I have not seen an actual Noh drama performance on stage, but
the impression I got from other mass media is not a favourable one. The
movements of the actors are extremely slow and the actors always walk
unnaturally with bent knees. The masked faces of the performers do not seem
attractive to me at all. The shrieking sound of the music is unbearable,
whereas the lines sang or recited are deliberately drawn out and the pitch
is raised that they sound unpleasant to my ears, let alone the understanding
of the lyrics; the stage scenery is next to nothing, save the three pine
trees. I suppose the only strength I feel for the Noh drama lies in the
dazzling costumes. However, the two extracts of Zeami's treatises evoke me
to examine more closely into the art of the Noh drama. 
        In 'The One Mind Linking All Powers' (Keene 258-259), Zeami, the principal
figure in the development of the Noh, talks about the secret art of 'no
action'. I am amazed to learn that moments of 'no action' are enjoyable, and
the charm lies in 'the underlying spiritual strength of the actor which
unremittingly holds the attention'. He states that this unwavering inner
strength will 'faintly reveal itself and bring enjoyment'. It is essential
for the actor to be able to link all the artistic powers with his own mind
and to convey the inner strength, which should not become obvious to the
audience, so that the audience will be moved. This talent highly requires
the effort persisted by the performer no matter he is on or off the stage at
all times in his life. Zeami's accounts appears to me that the charm in the
Noh drama is inexplicable. One has to experience it through actual
participation. I am convinced that if I watch a live Noh drama, I will try
my best to feel this inner strength from the moments of 'no action'.
        'Yugen' is the term often associated with the Noh drama. I notice that
yugen can be used in different senses. It can mean 'mysterious depth' or
'elegance' of speech or appearance. Most Noh plays are related to the dead.
In the play of 'Sotoba Komachi', it tells about the spirit of a nobleman who
died just before his ordeal of visiting a beautiful yet heartless poetess
for a hundred nights. His ghost returns to possess the poetess because of
his unresolved love and passionate jealousy. In 'Birds of Sorrow', the ghost
of the hunter tries to return to his earthly home to take a look at his wife
and his child. But he is prevented from visiting the earth due to his sinful
killing of the birds. In 'Atsumori', the ghost of Atsumori is in the
disguise of a young reaper in the first part of the play. In the second
part, the ghost reveals itself, dressed as the young warrior Atsumori before
his death. These three plays all deal with ghosts returning to the earth,
lamenting or confessing their deeds of their previous life. They convey to
me that the 'yugen' possessed in them has a sense of suspense and mystery.
        *Yugen' is also associated with the notion of 'elegance' of speech or
appearance. It is distinctly interpreted in Zeami's treatise of 'On
Attaining the Stage of Yugen' (Keene 260-262). He emphasizes that the
manifestation of yugen assumes the prime importance in Noh drama, and he
elaborates that rivets 'the essence of yugen is true beauty and gentleness'.
I suppose he has given the term 'yugen' the meaning of the chief aesthetic
principle of the Noh. His further illustrations on yugen capture my mind: 
                A musical performance may be said to possess yugen when the melody flows
beautifully and sounds smooth and sensitive. A dance will possess yugen when
the discipline has been thoroughly mastered and the audience is delighted by
the performer's movements and by his serene appearance. Acting possesses
yugen when the performance of the Three Roles [roles of the old person, the
woman, and the warrior] is beautiful.
Music, dance, and acting are the three basic elements in a Noh play. The
ability to appear beautiful in them is the 'seed of yugen'. It occurs to me
that Zeami has guided us to appreciate the aesthetic essence of the Noh
plays. Furthermore, he advises the actors that in order to enter the realm
of yugen, they must consider yugen as the most important aspect of their
art, and they must study to perfect their understanding of it. When all
different forms of visual and aural expressions are beautifully delivered,
yugen is attained. His aesthetic perspective of the Noh drama greatly
impresses me to regard him as the greatest Master of the Noh drama.