A Tale of False Fortunes (4 page)

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Authors: Fumiko Enchi

went swaggering about as if they owned the place. The new regent himself seemed to go along with the inveigling of those around him who wanted his daughter to be elevated from junior consort to empress as soon as possible. This was accomplished on the first day of the sixth month. There was gossip about the new regent: he was able to steer everything to his advantage, but his actions were unfeeling and indiscreet in light of his father’s grave illness. Furthermore, what did he have in mind by appointing the lesser commander of the guards, an uncle to the empress, as steward of the empress’ household? Did he think Michinaga’s broad-mindedness about everything would afford the right protection for his daughter? If that was what Michitaka was thinking, then he was an unusually gullible sort of person, unable to see the bold ambition lurking behind his youngest brother’s magnanimous demeanor.

As might be expected, the position of steward of the empress’

household seemed of little interest to Michinaga, and he had not even properly paid his respects at the palace before Kaneie passed away on the second day of the seventh month. It appeared that matters of government would now proceed exactly as the new regent desired, and that the other nobles would have no recourse but to follow his directives. Michinaga could not go on indefinitely neglecting his duties as steward of the empress’ household, so he would occasionally make an appearance and offer some solicitous advice, all the while keeping a keenly observant eye on the condition of the empress and the deportment of the ladies-in-waiting.

Now this Michinaga, the most handsome in his family, was highly regarded among the ladies-in-waiting, who were wont to say that his combination of masculine manners and refinement was unusual even among the young nobles. Of all his brothers, Michinaga was also the favorite of the emperor’s mother. It was
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only natural, then, that he should come to be on familiar terms with some of the ladies-in-waiting as he frequented the palace of the new empress, and he paid close attention to her manners and appearance as he disported himself with her women. Michinaga himself had a beautiful daughter who, though still young, showed much promise. Not too many years hence, she would arrive at an age compatible with that of the emperor, and Michinaga sought a model in the present empress’ rise to renown.

The new empress had inherited her mother’s remarkably intelligent nature and was so accomplished—whether in poetry, calligraphy,
koto,
or lute—that even men who were thought to be very proficient did not surpass her. And yet she made no ostentatious display of her talents. Her engaging but graceful demeanor had an indescribable elegance about it, like combin-ing the scent of plum blossoms with the sight of the spring’s first cherry blossoms.

When Teishi was made junior consort, the emperor at first thought he might be shy with an older woman. No sooner had he entered the bedchamber, though, than he was at her side making casual bedtime conversation about old tales and events.

Her manners were different from the matronly, experienced bearing of his nurses, and her entire body was of slender build: smooth, supple, and indescribably charming. Her lithe move-ments, like the pliant bending of a willow twig, captivated the heart of the youth in a vaguely unsettling way.

Ben’s and Tayû’s bosoms are ample, as if they had placed
great bowls on their chests, but the Empress’ breasts are a
cold roundness, like the buds of a white peony tinged with
crimson. I delight in sleeping with my cheek in her bosom.

When his majesty’s unabashed words were obligingly divulged to Michinaga by a lady-in-waiting, the thought sprang into his mind: surely the empress must be without equal.

Retired emperor En’yû passed away in the second month of the following year, not long after having received a visit from his son, Emperor Ichijò, who had sought his counsel on govern-20 c
A Tale of False Fortunes
ment. The retired emperor was reassured by his son’s appearance, which had grown even more strikingly handsome since his Coming-of-Age Ceremony. Actually, En’yû was not of so advanced an age that he needed to have abdicated so soon in favor of his son, but the late chancellor (Kaneie) had been anxious to have his own grandchild, the crown prince, enthroned as soon as possible. En’yû relinquished the throne, feeling that circumstances militated against his continued reign. Perhaps, too, he wished to spend his remaining years at peace with the thought that he had shored up the crown prince’s future reign before retiring.

As things were, the passing of the retired emperor could only bring greater prosperity to the new regent’s household. The regent’s father-in-law, Naritada, a lay priest, was elevated to second rank and was widely acclaimed as the “Novice of the Second Rank” or as senior second rank. Though he was advanced in years, his learning and abilities seemed to know no limits. He was strong-minded and difficult to deal with, and some had misgivings about him. Many were also disturbed to see the brothers of the regent’s wife all given appointments as governors of provinces, though they were hardly of a birth that would make them worthy of such distinctions. There was no dearth of criticisms: “What an awful state of affairs! One can only hope that no unrest comes from this.” Having written this far, one thing that occurs to me is that
A
Tale of Flowering Fortunes
contains almost no praise of the appearance and talent of Empress Teishi, daughter of Regent Michitaka. Many such accounts included here are therefore taken from the text of
A Tale of False Fortunes.

My childhood impression of Empress Teishi as unusually beautiful and talented was based on descriptions in
A Tale of
False Fortunes,
but later when I read
The Pillow Book,
I found passages throughout where Sei Shònagon wrote in adulation of her. The image of the empress based on my earlier reading thus began to shine even more resplendently.

The following account appears in
The Pillow Book:
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In front of the bamboo blinds of the Empress’ quarters, a group of nobles had spent the day making music with the flute and
koto.
The lattice had not yet been lowered when it was time for the lamps to be lit. The lamps were brought in, making the interior as plainly visible as if the door were open. The Empress was holding her lute lengthwise. She was dressed in a scarlet robe with several layered undergarments of glossy, pounded silk, the beauty of which defies description. It was a wonderful scene to see her sleeve draped over the jet black, glossy lute she was holding. Moreover, the contrast of the dazzling whiteness of her forehead as seen from the side was an incomparable sight to behold.

I approached one of the women sitting nearby and said: “That woman with her face half hidden could not have been so beautiful. And she was a commoner.” The woman pressed through the many people gathered about, and reported to the Empress what I had said. The Empress laughed, saying: “Does she know the meaning of parting?” I found it very amusing when her words were relayed back to me.

Sei Shònagon’s comparison alluded to the passage in Po Chü-i’s “Song of the Lute” where the poet sent for a lute-playing woman in a boat: “Only after repeated entreaties did she come, / Her face half hidden by the lute she clutched.” This incident probably took place when the regent’s household—

that of the empress’ parents—was at the height of its prosperity. Even after Teishi’s family’s decline, however, when her life was abject and lonely save for the emperor’s love, Sei Shò-

nagon’s descriptions never failed to endow her mistress with the abundant beauty of a flower that never fades. Such praises of course bespeak Sei Shònagon’s own strong-mindedness, but Empress Teishi’s perspicacious nature no doubt was also all the more finely honed as she sensed the impending, tragic decline of her parents’ family and their fall from political power. Her unusual comeliness perhaps indeed shone all the more brilliantly in her later years.

In light of the fact that Teishi was the first woman presented to him at court, it is easily understandable that she remained Emperor Ichijò’s favorite. For that very reason Michinaga kept
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a particularly vigilant eye on the empress, whom he saw as a future rival to his own daughter, though the latter was still of tender age. Teishi’s father, Michitaka, was no match for Michinaga, in whose heart lay a deeply hidden bold ambition for power.

A Tale of Flowering Fortunes
describes the various evil spirits that assailed Kaneie on his sickbed, but the name Ayame of Miwa, the medium who was possessed by the vengeful ghost of the third princess, appears only in
A Tale of False Fortunes.

Ayame of Miwa was the elder sister of Kureha of Miwa, the heroine of
A Tale of False Fortunes.
After Kaneie’s death, Michinaga invited Ayame to become a lady-in-waiting in his own household.

Toyome, the mother of Ayame and Kureha, seemed to possess the greatest mediumistic powers among all of the shrine women serving the god of Kasuga, and it was she who usually received the oracle of the god. Now the god of Kasuga was the tutelary deity of the Fujiwara clan, whose members—including, of course, the head of the clan, the regent himself—made frequent pilgrimages. Toyome availed herself of one such occasion to offer Ayame to Regent Kaneie’s household as a junior lady-in-waiting. After hearing Toyome pronounce an auspicious oracle, Kaneie was in good humor and agreed to take Ayame into his household.

As recorded in
A Tale of False Fortunes,
Toyome’s words to Kaneie at that time were as follows:

I am truly grateful that Your Lordship should grant the
request of one so inept as I, and that you are willing to
take Ayame into your service. Ayame is now fifteen years
old, and her younger sister Kureha is only twelve. When
Kureha is a few years older, I hope that she too might
attend His Lordship’s wife. If I can entrust my daughters
to His Lordship, I shall have no worry about their future.

But I should like to make just one request: I do not want
them to work as mediums. I do not have them serve at this
shrine because of this vow.

For years now, I have been a mouthpiece for the gods
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that have possessed my body, and I have pronounced
words affecting important affairs of society as well as personal fortunes. But of course, I myself have never been
conscious of any of those pronouncements. When I am
possessed, a horrendous power weighs down on me and I
become unable even to breathe, as if a huge rock were
crushing me. At length I become unconscious of anything,
and I never recall a single word I utter while in a trance.

When I think about it, though, from time to time there
have been frightening oracles from the gods: to do battle,
or to take a person’s life. I possessed no understanding of
such matters, but I would realize later that important
events to which I had never given thought had occurred as
a result of the god’s oracle through my mouth, and that
has at times filled me with apprehension. At any rate, I am
resigned to this as my own fate, but I do not want my
daughters to follow in my path. Therefore, after Ayame
enters your service, Your Lordship would be gravely mistaken to think that she possessed some knowledge of
necromancy. I humbly beg you not to use her for work
having to do with gods or spirits.

Behind Toyome’s earnest entreaty to Kaneie was a secret that had been plaguing her.

Strictly speaking, shrine women were supposed to have remained virgins while in service to the gods, but in reality there were surprisingly many love affairs. It is perhaps reasonable to view the requirement of chastity as rooted more in a belief that the gods preferred a woman who was free to respond to a man’s demands rather than in an abhorrence of female impurity.

In the “Emissary of Falconry” section of
The Tales of Ise,
the man appearing as Narihira called at the household of the Ise Virgin to pay his respects. While he was being entertained, he began to seek her affections. In the middle of that same night a woman accompanied by a serving girl appeared outside the bamboo blinds of his chamber. He invited the woman to enter, and who should come in but the virgin herself? Narihira made
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a pledge of love that night, but he set out early the next morning without being able to arrange another tryst with her. The serving girl brought a letter to him. He opened it to find only a poem written in the virgin’s hand.

Kimi ya koshi

Did you come to me,

Ware ya yukikemu

Or was it I who went to you?

Omòezu

I cannot say—

Yume ka utsutsu ka

Was it dream or reality?

Nete ka samete ka.

Was I asleep or awake?

What we see here, then, is a noblewoman—an imperial princess and the virgin of the Ise Shrine, the highest-ranking shrine maiden in all the land—visiting Narihira’s bedchamber of her own accord. Now of course
The Tales of Ise
are from the earliest stage of the Monarchical Age, and a good deal of rusticity even in the behavior of the nobility remained from the Nara period. Even allowing for that, an aggressiveness like that of a noblewoman in service to the gods calling on a man in his bedchamber is practically unheard of in other tales. Perhaps in the final analysis, although shrine maidens were not officially sanctioned to have affairs with mortal men aside from their devotions to the gods, such liaisons were tacitly permitted.

Viewed from one angle, a shrine maiden’s state while possessed by a god also follows a course through extreme tension between body and mind, passing through ecstasy and finally to saturation. Through this course, the sex drives are naturally satisfied. In other words, a shrine maiden in a divine trance is performing a sort of sexual act. These women can be said to be liberated by the deity rather than confined by it. In this regard, there would seem to be a fundamental difference between the asceticism of Buddhist or Christian nuns and the shrine maidens of primitive Shinto. When their bodies are not being borrowed by a deity, shrine maidens harbor emotions much like those of young wives occupying lonely bedchambers while their husbands are away, their bodies seething with wild passions and replete with things that attract men.

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