The weekly Genji update:
I have questioned myself nearly every page this week, why I don't just abandon the book.
I clearly don't like Genji. I'm repulsed by his taking a child bride - yes, she's a few years older than when he first kidnapped her at the age of ten, and yes different times and mores are at play. However, we learn that she has a coming of age ceremony quite some time after the "wedding". Ugh...
Anyway, I might still dnf this.
What has kept me reading at this point, however, are the rare moments when the book does have lyrical quality
- such as when Genji's wife dies -
and that there is an attempt at describing Genji growing as a character. (He's still a prick, tho.) Also, the description of the administrative processes at court and the superstitions and customs are fascinating.
Shōnagon remarked while recounting their woes to Koremitsu, “When she is older, I doubt that she will escape the destiny he intends for her, but for the moment his proposition seems to me hopelessly unsuitable; in fact, I cannot even imagine what he means by all the extraordinary things he says. I do not know what to do. Just today His Highness was here, warning us to make sure that he need not worry about her and to keep a proper eye on her at all times. I hardly know which way to turn, and now I worry far more than before about the liberties someone might take with her.” Shōnagon refrained from complaining too pointedly, because she did not wish to give Koremitsu ideas. Koremitsu himself could not make out what she was talking about.
Just a quick note and few thoughts:
1. The page count may say I've read 104 pages, but let me tell you that this book is in a larger format than my usual books. This is slow reading.
2. The translation is odd. It's probably close to the original Japanese in many ways, but it takes a lot of getting used to the style.
3. It seems that the style of narration is also distinct by its omissions. It seems that the reader needs to add quite a lot of words or connections. It seems like the words do not necessarily convey all of the meaning. It's so weird.
4. I first thought that maybe this is a stupid question but I wanted to know if the character of "Shonagon" is based on the real person Sei Shonagon, the author of The Pillow Book. A quick search on Wikipedia (oh, source of all popular knowledge!) confirms that she indeed is the very lady. Apparently, she was a contemporary and rival(!) of Murasaki Shikibu.
From Wiki:
"Shōnagon is also known for her rivalry with her contemporary, writer and court lady Murasaki Shikibu, author of The Tale of Genji who served the Empress Shoshi, second consort of the Emperor Ichijō. Murasaki Shikibu wrote about Shōnagon - somewhat scathingly, though conceding Shōnagon's literary gifts - in her diary, The Murasaki Shikibu Diary."
5. Genji, our main character. - Jeez. I really don't like Genji.
I don't know how old he is at this time, but he must still be a teenager. He's shagging (or at least trying to) everything that has legs (and consent is not a consideration here), and comes across as an entitled, thoughtless pain in the a***.
And let me tell you that I am trying to give him ALL the benefit I can give to a guy living a 1000+ years ago in a completely different culture.
I mean, at this point in the story, Genji is grooming a little girl (no more than ten years old) to grow into his ideal of the perfect woman. (See quote above.)
I'm looking forward for this part of the story to end. Soon. Please.
“A wife's main duty is to look after her husband, so it seems to me that one can do quite well without her being too sensitive, ever so delicate about the least thing, and all too fond of being amused. On the other hand, with a dutiful, frumpish housewife who keeps her sidelocks tucked behind her ears and does nothing but housework, the husband who leaves in the morning and comes home at night, and who can hardly turn to strangers to chat about how so-and-so is getting on in public or private or about whatever, good or bad, may have happened to strike him and is entitled to expect some understanding from the woman who shares his life, finds instead, when he feels like discussing with her the things that have made him laugh or cry, or perhaps have inflamed him with righteous indignation and are now demanding an outlet, that all he can do is avert his eyes, and that when he then betrays private mirth or heaves a sad sigh, she just looks up at him blankly and asks, ‘What is it, dear?’ How could he not wish himself elsewhere? It is probably not a bad idea to take a wholly childlike, tractable wife and form her yourself as well as you can. She may not have your full confidence, but you will know your training has made a difference. Certainly, as long as you actually have her with you, you can let her pretty ways persuade you to overlook her lapses; but you will still regret her incompetence if, when you are away, you send her word about something practical or amusing that needs doing, and her response shows that she knows nothing about it and understands nothing either. Sometimes a wife who is not especially sweet or friendly does very well when you actually need her.” The Chief Equerry's far-ranging discussion of his topic yielded no conclusion but a deep sigh.
LoL. So, it appears that even the earliest novel(s) were full of men being entirely puzzled by women. The fact that this was written by a woman makes it really funny.
This is delightful so far. I'm sure I'm missing lots of nuances and allusions because I'm lacking the background knowledge about the Japanese imperial court and Japanese history at large, but so far this story has been quite sweet.
The only thing is, one needs to switch off the 20th/21st century goggles entirely.
Genji is 12 years old when he is married to his 16-year-old wife, who also seems to be a cousin of his.