The Willow in Autumn: Ryūtei Tanehiko, 1783-1842 0674953517, 9780674953512

Citation preview

The Willow in Autumn

HARVARD-YENCHING INSTITUTE MONOGRAPHS 35

Portrait of Tanehiko From Enseki jisshu

THE WILLOW IN AUTUMN Ryutei Tanehiko, 1783-1842

ANDREW LAWRENCE MARKUS

Published by COUNCIL ON EAST ASIAN STUDIES, HARVARD UNIVERSITY, and distributed by HARTO!RD UNIVERSITY PRESS, Cambridge (Massachusetts) and London 1992

© Copyright 1992 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College Printed in the United States of America The Harvard.Yenching Institute, founded in 1928 and headquartered at Harvard University, is a foundation dedicated to the advancement of higher education in the humanities and social sciences in East and Southeast Asia. The Institute supports advanced research at Harvard by faculty members of certain Asian universities, and doctoral studies at Harvard and other universities by junior faculty of the same universities. It also supports East Asian studies at Harvard through contributions to the Harvard.Yenching Library and publication of the Harvard Journal ofAsiatic Studies and books on pre-modern East Asian history and literature.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Markus, Andrew Lawrence. The willow in autumn: Ryutei Tanehiko, 1783-1842 I Andrew Lawrence Markus. p. em. - (Harvard.Yenching Institute Monograph series ; 35) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-674-95351-7 1. Ryutei, Tanehiko, 1783-1842-Criticism and interpretation. I. Title. II. Series. PL797.8.Z5M37 1991 895.6'334-dc20 92-10275 CIP

Acknowledgments

The preparation of this text, in all its manifold stages, reflects the generous assistance of more individuals than I can possibly acknowledge, even in briefest terms. Here I mention only the most conspicuous debts of gratitude, while tacitly mindful of many others. In the preparation of my doctoral dissertation, of which this book is an abridgment, I owe sincere thanks to Professors Edwin McClellan and Judith Rabinovitch of Yale University, as well as to Professor Robert Leutner of the University of Iowa, for their invaluable advice, criticisms, and consummate patience throughout the term of writing. I account myself very fortunate to have enjoyed their counsel, on procedural as well as scholarly concerns, throughout the term of my graduate study. My colleagues at the University of Kansas merited my gratitude by their own considerable patience and forbearance in the protracted gestation of the original dissertation. I must express warm appreciation to Professor Hinotani Teruhiko of Keio University, who guided my faltering efforts during my term as a research student in Japan. I owe an academic as well as a deep personal debt to the students of Professor Hinotani who generously volunteered their time and enthusiasm to constitute the weekly "Tanehiko reading circle" at Mita; the contributions of Messrs. Ichikawa Takeshi, Otaka Yoji, Suzuki Hiromasa, and Tsutsumi Kunihiko are more in evidence throughout these pages than I can identify. I fear I was an obtuse and difficult disciple, and their unfailing reserves of good humor and dedicated perseverance above all remain fixed in my memory. Primary funding during my research in Japan, from 1978 to 1980,

Vl

Acknowledgments

was provided by an award from the Social Science Research Council and American Council for Learned Societies; I am deeply grateful for their generous grant and the honor it conferred on my immature efforts. Funds to underwrite a portion of my stay in Japan, as well as the initial phases of my writing in New Haven, were provided by a Yale Prize Fellowship in East Asian Studies, for which I must express sincere and lasting appreciation. In the reworking of my dissertation, I must acknowledge my gratitude to Professor Howard Hibbett of Harvard University for his generous answers to my numerous fretful questions. Ms. Florence Trefethen, Executive Editor of the Council on East Asian Studies at Harvard U niversity, was consistently willing to answer in detail a torrent of preliminary inquiries. The quality of the final manuscript and its overall legibility have benefited immensely from her insightful, lucid comments, and I thank her on behalf of my readers, for whom she acted as constant advocate. Ms. Susan Hudgens of Seattle generated the final typescript with despatch and copious reserves of patience, to handle my many picayune alterations. While I was not able to read it early enough to incorporate it into my work, I thank Mr. Donald M. Richardson of Winchester, Virginia, for supplying me with a copy of his recent integral translation of Inaka Genji. My greatest burden of obligation at all stages of the work at hand, and during all phases of my education, is to my parents. For their aid, support, encouragement in adversity, and boundless sacrifices I owe a debt of gratitude equal to the mountains and oceans. It is to them that I would like to dedicate this book and its predecessors, in unworthy initial repayment.

Contents

1

1

TAKAJ:j4 HIKOSHIRO

2

LITERARY BEGINNINGS

29

3

GOKAN AND RENOWN

61

4

ecOID SCRAPS AND PIECES"

97

5 NISE MURASAKI INAKA GENJI {1829-1842)

119

6

THE WILLOW IN AUTUMN

159

NOTES

213

BIBLIOGRAPHY

257

GLOSSARY

279

INDEX

285

Illustrations

1. Portrait of Ryutei Tanehiko

frontispiece

2. Heraldic Crests and Devices

6-7

3. Takaya Family Tree {through Tanehiko)

9

4. Tanehikds Immediate Family and Descendants

16

5. "Mitsuhiko" Emblem

39

ONE

Takaya Hikoshirii

The name of Ryiitei Tanehiko (1783-1842) would figure almost certainly in any enumeration of the ten principal authors of gesakupopular illustrated fiction of the late Edo period. At the height of his productivity and popularity, from about 1820 until his death in 1842, indeed through the latter portion of the Meiji period, his name and the names of his major works were virtually household words, recognized throughout a broad cross section of society. Yet, despite his celebrity and the wide circulation of his productions, little or nothing is known about large segments of his sixty-year life span. The few years and scattered episodes of his lifetime that do come into a clear focus of historical certainty strongly suggest patterns of livelihood and behavior, and lay a firm foundation for analogical hypotheses; but attempting to construct a biographical narrative is a perilous passage on stepping stones, uneven in size and spacing, across a pool of cloudy waters. The contrast between contemporary fame and a dearth of reliable contemporary biographical accounts, paradoxical as it seems, is by no means unique to the study of Tanehiko. With the exceptions of Santo Kyoden (1761-1816), whose brother Kyozan (1769-1858) took pains to present an accurate portrait of a long-suffering sibling and patron, and of Kyokutei Bakin (1767-1848), indefatigable in his diary writing and production of memoirs, the principal gesaku authors of the late Edo period have left for the most part poor trails for the would-be biographer to follow. The ranks of ukiyo-e artists, whose livelihood meshed

2

Takaya Hikoshiri5

inextricably with the productions of later gesaku, offer even more extreme examples of brilliant reputations coupled with biographical obscurity, although their lives appear to have elicited greater gossip and interest among scandalmongers than those of their gesaku brethren. By contrast, the stars of the kabuki stage enjoyed disproportionate public attention and adulation: While one struggles to establish the broad outlines of a gesaku author's life, any number of reference works for the contemporary theatergoer provide an overwhelming amount of information about even second-rate actors' crests, professional affiliations, memorable roles, tics, makeup preferences, even dietary likes and dislikes. The work of the gesaku celebrity, perhaps comparable in this one respect to the daily productions of the American syndicated comic-strip creator, was the subject of the liveliest interest and instantly recognizable to hundreds of thousands of devoted readers; the life of the gesaku celebrity himself, however, like that of Mort Walker or of Dik Browne, was of concern only to a small group of collectors, aficionados, and eccentric chroniclers of the day. Despite his minute attention to the lives and artifacts of previous ages, Ryutei Tanehiko never applied the art of critical description to his own life, or penned any sort of memoir or autobiographical essay. A series of four diaries, discontinuous and cryptically laconic, offers glimpses of the young author's private and creative lives for periods between 1808 and 1816, though they tantalize as much as they inform. In accordance with the impersonal and disengaged character of gesaku writing, we discover little within Tanehikds fictional corpus that suggests unambiguously events of his own life, and only occasionally see plainly in this or that preface the figure behind the sardonic grin of the gesaku author's mask. While a handful of letters survives, they provide only a restricted vision of their author, and taunt the would-be biographer with intimations of riches lost or mislaid. Our picture of the author derives almost entirely from incidental remarks by his contemporaries and the gossip of his successors. His celebrity notwithstanding, the first clear biographical notice dates only from 1829, twenty years and more after Tanehikds earliest published works, when Takahashi Hiromichi (1804-1868), the son of an officiant in the Atsuta Shrine near Nagoya, composed in his notebooks a short

Takaya Hikoshiro

3

sketch of the senior author whom he had adopted as his mentor. Shortly after Tanehiko's death, in early 1843, his lifelong friend Ogino Baiu {1781-1843} produced his own highly eulogistic sketch of the author's life and demise. 1 Far less flattering, and thus more reliable, are the letters, journals, and diaries of Kyokutei Bakin. Although there are indications that, in the earliest years of the nineteenth century, this literary colossus was favorably disposed to his struggling junior, by the second decade of the century their relationship had cooled to a bitter rivalry for large shares of an overlapping reading public. The observations of the 1830s, in particular, are suffused to an almost pathological degree with jealousy and vituperative backbiting. For all their negative cast, however, Bakin's observations are undeniably the most extensive contemporary record of Tanehiko's activities; their value appreciates in light of Bakin's familiarity with the inner operations of the publishing industry. . Curiously, few biographical sources remain from the fifty years after Tanehiko's death. Gesaku rokkasen (Six selected gesaku immortals}, a slim compilation of words and incidents in the lives of six gesaku authors and three illustrators, dates in its current edition from 1857, though its antecedents go back to the 1840s. Its discussion of Tanehikohardly more than a list of literary pseudonyms and two brief anecdoteslong remained the meager centerpiece of every biographical discussion. Kaku ya ika ni no ki (''Yet what is this?" notebook; subscription date 1876}-its colorful title one of the stock phrases of fiction or the stage, the preface to a dramatic reversal of expectations-presents the literary lucubrations of Hasegawa Kinjiro, an inspector at the shogunal mint, about favorite popular authors, Tanehiko prominent among them. It was not until the earliest systematic retrospectives on Edo literature of the 1890s, however, that comprehensive biographies attempted to illuminate the figure obscure in the shadows of his literary monument. 2 The Takaya family to which Tanehiko belonged was by no means exceptional. Had it not been for Takaya Tomohisa or Hikoshiro (to use the author's legal names}, in fact, the family would be no more than an unremarkable handful of names among a myriad others in official directories. Except for the brilliant literary career of its single scion, the history of the Takaya is typical of thousands of other "petty samurai" lineages.

4

Takaya Hikoshiro

According to K.ansei choju shokafu (Kansei period revised edition of the collected genealogical tables; 1799-1812), the gargantuan genealogical compendium of all daimyo lords and hatamoto direct vassals of the Tokugawa military regime, the Takaya family ultimately traced its descent from a minor offshoot of the Seiwa Genji clan. 3 The earliest recorded, nominal ancestor of the family is Takaya Yoshitsugu (fl. 1500), a retainer of the great eastern war lord Takeda Harunobu/Shingen (1521-1573). Yoshitsugu's heir, Yoshinaga (ca. 1530-? ), was not his natural child, but an adopted son; it is from this Yoshinaga that the direct Takaya bloodline continued unbroken through the nineteenth century, when the untimely death of Tanehiko's only son again necessitated succession through adoption. Like his father, Yoshinaga served Takeda Shingen, and later paid fealty to his son Takeda Katsuyori (1546-1582). Generations later, Tanehiko was to take an especial pride in his affiliation with these noteworthy warrior leaders of Kai province. In a letter to his disciple Senka around 1831, for example, he writes: Others may laugh at such matters, but I do not find them at all amusing. I dislike sumo wrestling, and never write of it. As a samurai from Kai, I do not write ill of Lord [Takeda] Shingen, nor do I award points in grading senryu to verses disparaging of Lord Shingen. 4

It was not uncommon for the heraldic crest of a retainer family to reflect in its design the bearings of the clan to which it owed allegiance. One of the Takaya family devices, maru ni hanabishi "flowering water chestnut (a species of scalloped lozenge pattern) inscribed in a circle," almost certainly derives from the Takeda family crest of four hishi, or horizontally distended lozenges, placed side by side to form a larger distended lozenge. 5 During the lifetime of Yoshinaga's heir, Yoshihisa (1563-1616), the inexorable forces that had been gathering momentum since 1560 at last broke the ascendancy of the Takeda. Unable to resist the conjoined forces of Oda Nobunaga (1534-1582), Hojo Ujimasa (1538-1590), and of Tokugawa Ieyasu (1542-1616; r. 1603-1605), Takeda Katsuyori suffered a disastrous defeat in 1582. His retainers killed or scattered, his encampment hopelessly surrounded, the last Takeda lord put an end to his own

Takaya Hikoshiro

5

life at Mt. Tenmoku near modern Kofu. Takaya Yoshinaga probably lost his life in this debacle, but Yoshihisa lived on. The Kansei choju shokafu record mentions that, following the defeat of Katsuyori, Ieyasu summoned Yoshihisa to serve the Tokugawa cause, but that Yoshihisa declined on grounds of poor health, preferring instead to live out his final years in balmier Kii province. The Takaya family first became stipendiaries of the bakufu regime during the lifetime of Yoshihisa's son Tanehisa, also known as Nobushige (? -1690). In 1626, Tanehisa was summoned to serve the shogun Iemitsu (1604-1651; r. 1623-1651). The first Takaya to hold official position, Tanehisa was appointed to the ranks of the kojunin (escort regiments) and granted an annual stipend of 200 hyo or tawara (rice bales) in perpetuity. In 1648, Tanehisa's younger brother Hisaharu ( ? -1683) received an identical appointment from the shogun, and established a collateral branch of the family. Tanehisa was probably the first of the Takaya generations to live within the precincts of Edo on a permanent basis. His last resting place, a Pure Land sect temple in Akasaka, became the family burial ground for all subsequent generations. The three intermediary generations between Tanehisa and Tanehiko's father, Takaya Tomoyoshi (1737-1796), are of little concern here. The family continued to receive its stipend payments, continued to enjoy minor appointments to largely honorary offices. The life of Tanehiko's father itself does not emerge into very sharp relief. Upon the retirement of Tanehiko's grandfather Tomoyoshi (the two consecutive generations of "Tomoyoshi" are written with different characters) in 1758, Tanehiko's father inherited primacy over the household. In January 1766, Takaya Tomoyoshi (Tanehiko's father) enjoyed audience with the shogun Ieharu (1737-1786; r. 1760-1786), and became a member of the kojunin escorts in 1767. When Ieharu made a costly ceremonial progress to the ancestral mausolea at Nikko in 1776 to demonstrate that the coffers of the bakufu were not in fact bankrupt, Tomoyoshi followed in his retinue. In 1779, Tanehiko's father resigned all official duties and lived in retirement until his death in May 1796. His son Tomohisa-the adolescent Tanehiko-assumed primacy over the Takaya household in due course three months later, at age 14. The only authority for the actual birth date of Tanehiko is Ogino

b.

a.

Model:

Designation: Family: Authority:

Model:

Designation: Family: Authority:

FIGURE 1 Heraldic Crests and Devices (Takeda and Takaya Families) waribishi

ct·) [ )

maru ni hanabishi ( -f:L 1;. Takaya Hayashi Jussai, Kansei choju shokafu, § 345; Numata Raisuke, Nihon monshogaku, p. 1140 (Reconstructed)

,:L l,

Takeda Numata Raisuke, Nihon monshogaku, pp. 1126 and 1129 Ibid., p. 1129

d.

c.

Model:

Designation: Family: Authority:

Model:

Designation: Family: Authority:

sangoku ( ~

::b ·), san no ishidatami ( E...-ft

k?t )

Kan'ei keizu, as quoted in Hayashi Jussai, Kansei choju shokafu, § 345 Numata Raisuke, Nihon monshogaku, p. 934

Takaya

kokumochi ( ~'

Takaya Hayashi Jussai, Kansei choju shokafu, § 345; Numata Raisuke, Nihon monshogaku, pp. 1046 and 1048 Gravestone inscription

8

Takaya Hikoshiro

Baiu, who specifies the day as Tenmei 3:5:12/11 June 1783. With only one exception, all sources agree that 1783 is the correct year of birth. The 24th year of the shogun Ieharu's term, the 181st year of the Tokugawa bakufu regime, 1783 was not an auspicious year: the Tenmei Famine, which claimed the lives of nearly a million victims as the result of disastrous harvests, was approaching the climax of its devastation. Incessant rains and abnormally chilly weather persisted all summer and autumn. Two months after his birth, on 3 August, rumbling Mt. Asama exploded in one of the most violent volcanic displays of Japanese history. By some accounts, 20,000 died in the eruption, while untold multitudes lost homes and crops in the steady rain of volcanic ash. Fine dust suspended in the atmosphere exacerbated the effects of the unseasonably chilly year. In Edo, 85 miles to the southeast, an ominous booming sound the evening of 3 August portended the arrival of clouds of drifting volcanic debris. August 4th was dark as night: Ash and sand sifted down from the skies like black snow. It was not until 5 August that the skies over Edo finally returned to normal. The year produced many baleful omens, among them a partial lunar eclipse on 8:15/11 September-a date hallowed by tradition for admiring the evocative mid-autumn moon. 6 Tanehiko does not refer to his family's earliest residences. The diaries portray him already in 1806 as a longtime denizen of Okachimachi in Edo. It seems likely, however, that the central Okachimachi district was not the place of Tanehiko's birth, and that the Takaya family in 1783 lived in the considerably less elegant districts and suburbs of Edo to the east of the Sumida River. Our best authority on the family's earlier days is Kyokutei Bakin. In April 1834, the new heir to the Senkakudo publishing house visited Bakin to offer a gift of sliced eel and to tender his sympathies on Bakin's advancing blindness. During the course of their evening discussion, the subject of Ryutei Tanehiko came up. Much of the new personal information he had learned from the visitor Bakin recorded in his diary entry for that day. According to this report, the Takaya family owned as their ancestral domain land near a Yakushi temple in the Honjo district. The location is described more precisely in a letter from Bakin dated July-August 1842 to his faithful correspondent Tonomura Josai (1799-1847): Here the Takaya family property is

Takaya Hikoshiro FIGURE 2 Takaya Family Tree (through Tanehiko) YOKOTE Kenmotsu Nobunao

TAKAYA Yoshitsugu {ca. 1500)

I

Yoshinaga (before 1531 - ?)

I

Yoshihisa {1563-1616)

Tanehisa ( (? -1690)

4f J.....

)

Hisaharu

Stipend of 200 hyo in 1626

Shigetomo [1690] {1645-1716) Toshifut [1716] {1673-1737)

I .

{1702-1770)

Stipend of 200 {later 500) byo in 1648

I I I I I

I

Tomoyosh1 t ~o

( ? -1683)

Stipend converted to 500 koku, 1697

rt) [1731]

TomoyL (j;c J&.

) [1758]

{1737-1796)

I

I I I I I I I I I

Tomohisa ( ~11 !t_ ) [1796]

Nobukane [1796]

{1783-1842)

{1774-?)

=Ryutei Tanehiko Dates of attaining household primacy are in brackets.

9

10

Takaya Hikoshiro

located in the Komatsugawa area of Honjo, some 2 ri Gust under 5 miles) as the crow flies from Ryogoku Bridge in central Edo.7 This Komatsugawa area-its name and location preserved in the administrative subdistricts of modern Edogawa ward, Tokyo-was at the time a sleepy river town, a rustic hawking preserve for the shogun. Although Bakin exaggerates the distance to the center of Edo, Komatsugawa was a good 3 to 4 miles east of the Sumida River. It seems probable that, by the date of Tanehiko's birth, the family had moved from their remote hereditary properties to a site nearer the heart of the city. Baiu remarks that Tanehiko was born in Yamanote-a vague term for the topographically and socially more elevated residential districts of Edo. Mitamura Engyo, however, places the Takaya residence of the 1780s in the Yoshida-cho neighborhood of Honjo district (the modern Ishihara 4-chome in Sumida ward). Honjo, the unglamorous "Brooklyn'' of Edo across the Sumida River, had been annexed and developed as a planned residential community by the magistracy of Edo after the great Meireki Fire of 1657. Although the city administration had attempted to persuade daimyo to establish residences in the suburb and thus relieve the dangerous congestion in the center city, the awkwardness and general undesirability of the site prevented many from making the move. The Honjo district became overwhelmingly the preserve of petty samurai and minor functionaries-an address almost synonymous with koppatamoto (little hatamoto) as the Meiji period author Koda Rohan (1867-1947) was later to reflect. 8 The butt of frequent jokes, low-lying Honjo enjoyed the dubious reputation of excelling in one thing only-a superabundance of mosquitoes. Yoshida-cho, the birthplace Engyo suggests for Tanehiko, was hardly a distinguished neighborhood. Situated on the west bank of the Honjo Yokogawa, or north-south "Transverse Canal," the area became celebrated in the eighteenth century for its kiri-mise, low-class brothels that charged on an hourly basis, and for its brazenly independent streetwalkers. These women-frequently superannuated castoffs from the Fukagawa pleasure quarter- had a reputation for desperate aggressiveness. Fumi-guruma murasaki kanoko (Carriage of beautiful ladies, lavender dappling), a sharebon of 1774, considers the situation in Yoshida-cho with a certain horrified frisson:

Takaya Hikoshiro

11

This "Pure Land" is no different from Irie-cho. No sooner does anyone pass by than he is pounced upon and seized, nor will even the mightiest thunderclap make the women release their victims. It is a dreadful place. From here come the "hourly girls."9

Nor was the district on its way to urban renewal. Edo hanjoki (Account of the prosperity of Edo, 1832-1836), the whimsical and acid gazetteer of Edo's human geography by Terakado Seiken (1796-1868), describes the neighborhood in 1836: Yoshida district in Honjo is a den of these streetwalkers. At nightfall they cake on their makeup and promenade in every direction, selling their favors ... And since they are at the bottommost rank of the bottommost category, there are aged whores among them, those fallen on hard times or tainted with vicious disease, who still hold to the ruts they traveled in their earliest years, and so eke out the wretched remainder of their earthly term. 10

Tanehiko does not mention Yoshida-cho or the circumstances of his family in 1783. The earliest records from Tanehiko's own hand, the diaries, originate from the Osakite-gumi yashiki (vanguard regiment manor) in the Okachimachi area of Shitaya district-an address in the heart of central Edo. The date of the Takaya family's relocation to a still more convenient, and presumably more prestigious part of the city is unknown, but Ikari Akira, the author's principal modern biographer, proposes 1786-a year, incidentally, of disastrous flooding throughout the Kant6 Plain, particularly severe in low-lying regions of Edo. Whatever the year, Tanehiko 1 resided continuously at this Okachimachi address for nearly fifty years, until1835. The Osakite-gumi yashiki was only one of several kumi yashiki (regiment manors) collective housing projects subsidized by the government for lower-ranking samurai. The Sakite- or Osakite-gumi (vanguard regiments), as their name implies, originally served as shock troops in the vanguard of a military attack; by training they were specialists in the use of long-range weapons, bows and firearms. 11 With the pacification of the land came the necessity to allot peacetime duties to the elaborate military structure of the Tokugawa bakufu; civil offices were assigned, often on the basis of strained analogy, to nominally martial units. The Sakite regiments were entrusted with the investigation of burglaries and the

12

Takaya Hikoshiro

establishment of culpability in cases of fire negligence or arson. How the Takaya family, not directly associated with this police regiment, gained entry into the housing compound is not clear. Perhaps the regulations governing tenancy were relaxed to admit members of other honorary guards regiments, such as the ko;unin-gumi (escort regiment) to which Tanehikds father had been appointed in 1767. Extant sources tell us little about Tanehikds boyhood, his youthful pastimes, or his education. Gesaku rokkasen mentions that, at an early age, Tanehiko entered the school of-here there is a deliberate lacuna in the text-to pursue kanga, or "Chinese painting." A later, variant version of this passage stands alone in its emendation here to "the school of Buncho."12 This could only designate Tani Buncho (1763-1840), a major figure in late Edo period literatus painting, of samurai origins, whose style synthesized elements of indigenous, Chinese, and Western draftsmanship. Ogino Baiu, ever adulatory, mentions that Tanehiko was fond of archery and horsemanship, was proficient with spear and sword-tastes befitting a samurai youth-and that he even took a certificate in equestrian performance. "These things," Baiu asserts, ''are well known among his close friends in the Shitaya district." 13 In the preface to his 1841 zuihitsu miscellany Yosha-bako (Ditty box), however, Tanehiko disclaims any such prowess, and characterizes himself as "a warrior of the East, but one who, despite his mature years, is unable to shoot a bow or ride a horse." 14 According to Baiu, young Tanehiko enjoyed the services of a tutor who taught him to read the first half of the Confucian Analects by rote, simply indicating the Sino-Japanese reading for each successive character. A gifted prodigy, Tanehiko was able to dispense with the (dubiously helpful) tutor, and complete the reading of the latter half by himself. From such an unpromising foundation, the child evidently made major advances. Again according to Baiu, upon the death of his father in 1796, the young heir to the Takaya household underwent an oral examination before officials of his kobushin regiment to ascertain his competence. The chief examiner, his regimental shihai "commander," 1pulled out an imported, that is, unpunctuated, edition of Shih ching (The Book of Odes) and San kuo chih yen-i (The Romance of the Three Kingdoms) and requested the youth to read aloud and to expatiate on certain passages. When Tanehiko responded at length and without faltering or hes-

Takaya Hikoshiro

13

itation, all the examiners concurred in their enthusiasm for his aptitude and promise. 15 Undoubtedly Takaya Tomoyoshi supervised some aspects of his son's schooling. The most vivid vignette of Tanehiko's childhood in fact portrays his father in the multiple roles of poet, disciplinarian, and instructor. Not found in any contemporary source, the anecdote appears in a series of biographical and bibliographical notices on gesaku authors, compiled in the 1840s by Kimura Mokuro (1774-1856). As a child, the story has it, Tanehiko was sullen and prone to sudden temper tantrums. Unable to put up with these childish fits of rage, his father one day recited the admonitory verse: Kaze ni atama hararete nemuru yanagi kana

Look to the willow: head slapped by the winds, it still sleeps peacefully.

Straightway the peevish boy, we are assured, reformed his character, and grew tractable and docile. 16 The use of the willow as a symbol of strength through pliancy and adaptability is well attested in proverb anthologies of the Edo period, and the poem cannot be allowed any great novelty of conception. The unusual locution atama wo haru "to slap, to box the ears," suggests an interest in historic or recherche die- · tion that would certainly be in conformity with the intended hearer's later proclivities, but it is impossible to validate the authenticity of the story. Since Tomoyoshi died when Tanehiko was a young adolescent, it seems unlikely that the metaphoric subtleties of the verse could have come home so readily at so tender an age. More factual records confirm the impression that Tomoyoshi, like his son, was an admirer of the antique and obscure. In an essay many years later, Tanehiko was to recall the instruction his father had given him in the game of sugoroku-an extinct form of backgammon popular through medieval times. In an age when perhaps one in a hundred was familiar with the game in its original form, Tanehiko reminisces, his father was conversant with the rules as well as the arcane terminology of dice throws. 17 Another example of Tomoyoshi's erudition (or pedantry) is an incident Tariehiko recalls from age 7 or 8 (i.e. 1789 or 1790), when his father laughingly corrected the grammar of words in a popu-

Takaya Hikoshiro

14

lar song from abura wo yazara tateta ("I set up eight dishes of hair oil") to the more classical abura wo yazara tatetsu.1 8 Literary associations also characterize Tanehiko's incidental recollections of Tomoyoshi. In an 1818 catalog of joruri play titles from the Genroku era, Tanehiko notes that, during his boyhood, his father chanted aloud portions of Chikamatsu's historical drama Yomei tenno shokunin kagami (Emperor Yomei mirror for tradesmen, 1705)-a play that "now nobody ever recites." 19 It is as the haikai poet Toshu that Tanehiko remembers Tomoyoshi in a diary passage of April1810: At night went to visit Master Koryu. On the way home around 11 p.m. met a feeble old man over 60 years old selling eggs. The night was growing deeper. Rain was falling, and even lovers intent on trysts did not venture abroad. The only reason he could have for wandering about in such weather, I thought, was that if he did not sell all of his wares, he would have no means to eat the following day. Well, then, I shall buy, I resolved, and searched through my robes but did not have a single coin. I could do nothing for him. More heartrending still was his cry, ''Eggs! Eggs for sale!" as it grew fainter and more distant. For what poor pittance does he endure these miseries? And when he obtains his few coins, one can imagine how soon he forgets the morrow, determined though he be to embrace frugality. This reminded me of a time when my father, Tosha, took pity on a feeble old peddler, and gave him 100 coppers. His composition at that time: Tokoro uru oyaji no kao no niganigashi -Tosha20

Bitter and crabbed the face of the old peddler.

Poetry is the vehicle for a longing tribute to his father in an earlier diary passage. In March 1810, Tanehiko spends a pleasant day with a neighbor, eating eel at the Hirokoji marketplace, then making a pilgrimage to the Kiyomizu Kannon temple of Ueno. He recalls in the diary how his father, during his declining years, would make daily pilgrimages or excursions to this same Kannon, and sets down a verse to commemorate the bittersweet memory: lma mo kawaranu iro urayamashi ume yanagi.

The plum, the willow! envy their unchanged hues.21

Takaya Hikoshiro

15

There is no record of the age at which Tanehiko was married. Kansei choju shokafu, whose charts list all reputable marriages contracted by its elite segment of the population, does not mention any wife in its entry for Takaya Tomohisa; the earliest diary, of 1808, however, clearly mentions a wife. It is probable, as Ikari Akira suggests, that the marriage was arranged soon after the death of Takaya Tomoyoshi in 1796 and the transmission of family primacy to the young Tomohisa. 22 The character of Takaya Masako (? -1847), nee Kato, is only slightly less mysterious than that of her spouse. Ogino Baiu mentions her by name-a name confirmed in the pages of Tanehikds autograph diariesand records that she was the granddaughter of Fujiwara no Umaki. 23 There seems no reason to doubt the identification Baiu provides. Fujiwara or Kat6 Umaki (1721-1777), her grandfather, was a Kokugaku scholar of some celebrity.24 The adopted son of a rural physician in Mino province, he received an initial appointment as oban yoriki (castle patrol officer), later purchased "stock" as a gokenin or Tokugawa "houseman'' after a wealthy marriage in the 1740s. In autumn 1746, he entered the Kokugaku circles of Kamo Mabuchi (1697-1770), where his expertise in Kojiki studies secured him a reputation as one of Mabuchi's four outstanding disciples. In a letter to Motoori Norinaga (1730-1801) dated January 1768, Mabuchi praises the promising scholar: ... And here, too, Fujiwara Umaki (original name Ka!O Daisuke, an oban yoriki officer) transmits my teachings. He is especially fond of the ''Age of the Gods" portions of the Kojiki. Though he has not yet lectured on his opinions, I feel he is a man who ought to speak out eventually. It is my earnest desire that you should converse with him, and that, after my death, you should bring these matters to their fruition. True, I did have many disciples here [in Edo], but some I lost to death or to illness, while others fell away because of the press of official duties; at the moment of writing, I have very few left. Please do correspond with this Daisuke; I shall talk the matter over with him this very day. From the time I was 30 until now when I am 71 years old, I have devoted myself wholeheartedly to learning. What bitterness, then, I feel to see all resolve itself so unsatisfactorily. 25

He again urges correspondence between Norinaga and Umaki, the better to bolster Norinaga's understanding of the Mabuchi method, m another letter of June 1769.26

YAMAMOI'O ?

KATO Umaki (1721-1777)

KATO Z=.o

I-

1 ~

I

~

(, -1s•n

1

Jinnosuke ( ? -1836)

Yajuro

TAKAYA Nobuyuki ( ? -1918) Father of four sons (one adoptive) and three daughters; all dead by 1960

I

~

=Ryutei Tanehiko (1783-1842)

Denotes descent through adoption

TAKA(YA Tomoyoshi 1702-1796)

I I

TAKAYA

( ? - 1 S 3 D I TAKA(YA Tomoyoshi 1737-1796)

Second wife?

KATOM~~O--~------~--- TAKAYA Tomohisa

I

KAWAZU Kuzu (1740-1i6o)

I

FIGURE 3 Tanehiko's Immediate Family and Descendants

Takaya Hikoshiro

17

U maid's publications on the classical canon, his personal collections of waka verses assure him a minor niche among contemporary authorities of the native tradition. But he is probably most noteworthy in the eyes of posterity for his role as mentor to the Kokugaku scholar and author Ueda Akinari {1734-1809). Akinari's affiliation with Umaki dates from the late 1760s, the period of his first work of fiction, Shodo kikimimi seken-zaru (Worldly monkeys with ears for the arts, 1766). Since 1761, Akinari had carried on, but without great enthusiasm, the mercantile affairs of his foster family. His encounters with Umaki during this decade of dissatisfaction undoubtedly served as a catalyst' to increasingly pronounced literary aspirations. The relationship must have been close and enduring, since it was Akinari who acted as executor of Umaki's final requests following his death in July 1777, and sponsored several manuscripts for posthumous publication. It is to Akinari, in fact, that we owe our limited knowledge of Umaki's heir-Tanehiko's father-in-law. In the postscript to a letter of 1792 or 1793 debating the authenticity of a document alleged to contain Kada no Azumamards {1669-1736) interpretation of an enigmatic song in the Nihon shoki (Chronicles of Japan, 720), Akinari mentions that, recently, Kato Zenzo, the adopted son of Kat6 U maki, had come to visit him while on official duty in Osaka. During the course of their conversations, the topic of the mysterious song in the Nihon shoki came up by chance. Zenzo mentioned that Mabuchi had presented a memorandum on this very subject to his father, U maki; the document had gone to another individual in Kazusa province. The rest of the postscript is concerned with the whereabouts of the missing deposition. 27 Through this welter of incidentals, we learn that Kato Zenzo, Umaki's heir, was to some degree conversant with the scholarly pursuits of his father; that he was an officer of the bakufu, perhaps an oban guard like U maki; and that he was on friendly terms with Akinari, a major philological and literary figure of his generation. It is only natural that some of this familiarity with the formal Kokugaku tradition should have passed from U maki and Zenzo to Masako, and from her as tangible and intangible dowry to Tanehiko. In a letter of June 1831, Bakin comments to his friend Tonomura Josai that he has heard Tanehikds wife is a "clever" or "erudite woman" (saijo), that she

18

Takaya Hikoshiro

helps in the proofreading and correcting of her husband's works, and assists him in his literary labors. 28 One can almost hear Bakin sighing enviously at his desk, since his own wife, 0-Hyaku, was an ignorant, increasingly hysterical termagant, whose unpleasantness was equaled only by her longevity. If Bakin's comment is correct, then it is clear Masako was a woman of not inconsiderable education or educability. Numbers of volumes in Tanehikds extensive private library doubtless originated in Umaki's collection. Tanehikds personal copy of Ugetsu monogatari (Tales of rainy moonlight, 1776), mentioned by the author of Kaku ya ika nino ki, probably dates from the days of Akinari's association with U maki. Ikari mentions that a copy of Kogetsusho (Lake moon commentary, 1675), the massive variorum commentary on Genji monogatari by Kitamura Kigin (1624-1705), enhanced by marginalia in Umaki's own hand, passed into Tanehiko's possession to become the basic reference text in the composition of Nise Murasaki inaka Genji. 29 Tanehiko was born and raised a member of the bushi or samurai class, a privileged group which may have numbered 1.8 to 2 million out of a national population of approximately 30 million in the early nineteenth century. Although the need for a standing force of redoubtable warriors prepared to campaign against the enemies of the shogun had long since lost its urgency, the bushi class retained an elaborate military hierarchical structure, and a nominal organization into many specialized battalions and regiments. There was wide variation in the status and stipends of the bushi. Some, like the daimyo suzerains of major han fiefs, enjoyed a fabulous income, while others were virtually destitute. At the middling to lower end of the spectrum were the hatamoto "bannermen'' and gokenin "men of the [Tokugawa] household" classes, both groups whose members received 10,000 koku (about 50,000 bushels) of rice or less in the form of revenue, credit, or cash directly from the central offices of the bakufu government. A census taken in 1812lists a total of 5,205 hatamoto and 17, 399 gokenin stipendiaries on the administrative rolls. 30 The essential distinction between the two groups is still a subject of controversy among modern historians, indeed was not crisply defined in the Edo period: As late as the nineteenth century, fully two hundred years after the codification of the Edo bakufu hierarchy, decrees were issued in an

Takaya Hikoshiro

19

attempt to clear up the persistent muddle. The most likely explanation of the original division between the groups is that they perpetuate the relative proximity of family ancestors to Tokugawa Ieyasu during his campa1gns. Whatever the origins of these two associated groups of direct stipendiaries, a crucial difference between them lay in the privilege of direct audience with the shogun, the right of o-memie "audience" or jikisan "direct access" -a privilege accorded the hatamoto but denied the gokenin. Whatever his real stipend, a hatainoto always took precedence in bakufu protocol by virtue of this special right. As a hatamoto, Tanehiko did have, in theory, the right to enter the audience halls of Edo Castle and to appear before the shogun, although there is no evidence that he ever did so. His great-great-grandfather, Kansei choju shokafu informs us, had an audience with Ietsuna {1641-1680; r. 1651-1680) in November 1662, and his father with Ieharu in January 1766. It is probable, though, that these two occasions were more on the order of a mass ceremony of allegiance than any intimate conversation. Within the ranks of the hatamoto, the Takaya family belonged to the least affluent and least glorious subdivision, the undistinguished masses of the kobushin. Kobushin-gumi, "fatigue regiments," originally were those troops assigned to minor repairs and to essential but non-military tasks around an encampment. In the hierarchy of the Edo bakufu, however, the term had eroded into a simple euphemism for the lowest of the three echelons of hatamoto, whose stipends were equal or inferior to 3,000 koku, and who had no official appointment or administrative function. These idle samurai, sometimes disparaged as roku no aru ronin, "masterless samurai with a stipend," composed a fairly high percentage of all hatamoto: A registry of hatamoto compiled in 1817 places nearly 2,000 out of some 4,800 individuals in this nether category, or about 42 percent. 31 Whereas other regiments with the passage of time had lapsed into de facto sinecure appointments, the kobushin regiments had never borne much responsibility from the very onset. In the first decades of the seventeenth century, there were still expectations that the kobushin regiments would assist to some degree in public works; difficulties in dealing with the venal private subcontractors often hired to fulfill the

20

Takaya Hikoshiro

tasks led in 1675 to the establishment of a standardized fixed levy of money in lieu of theoretical services. Apart from the payment of this levy, binding on all kobushin members under 60 years of age and with incomes of 20 hyo "bales" or more, the duties of the kobushin member were nominal. Members were supposed to report to their supervisors at stated intervals, to attend three lectures a month on the Confucian Four Books, and to practice archery on the government ranges at Hottahara, but if Tanehiko's behavior during his diary years is representative, these regulations were cheerfully disregarded. Though never an official or functionary in the bakufu, it is possible that Tanehiko, like his forebears, enjoyed appointment to the kojuningumi "escort regiments." The kojunin-gumi, true to their name, constituted a force of some 200 to 250 men, in 10 or 11 regiments, whose original purpose had been to serve as bodyguard and protective escort for the shogun. 32 Some members of this band actually did stand duty at the shogun's residence, but, for the majority, this seems to have been an honorary appointment more than anything else, only rarely demanding of significant duties. Tomoyoshi, Tanehiko's father, became a kojunin in 1767, and in May-June of 1776 accompanied Ieharu on his progress to Nikko. Kansei choju shokafu does not mention Tomohisa, that is, Tanehiko's membership in this elite corps, but, since all five previous primates of his family had gained automatic appointment to the corps at an average age of 25, it is highly probable that Tanehiko became a member in the early 1800s. Tanehiko himself, though, does not mention this post, and Hayashi Yoshikazu goes so far as to affirm that, by the time of the first diary, in 1808, Tanehiko already had resigned from the ranks of the kojunin, or might have been dropped from the rolls by reason of chronic ill health. 33 However remote Tanehiko's association with the ideal military function of his social caste, his most complimentary biographer, Ogino Baiu, takes pleasure in emphasizing Tanehiko's lingering consciousness of the duties of the samurai. Once, he narrates in his short anecdotal biography, Tanehiko discovered in an open-air bookstall a volume apparently composed as a confidential chronicle of the Mito household, a branch of the Tokugawa shogunalline. Declaring that such a work was not suitable for the vulgar perusal of all and sundry, our hero purchased

Takaya Hikoshiro

21

and forwarded the volume to a minor official. The Mito family, greatly pleased by such adherence to proprieties, returned the work to Tanehiko as a reward, with a commendation that such a discreet individual was unlikely to use the text to discreditable ends. 34 In another, more intriguing episode, Baiu reports a conversation between Tanehiko and a literary admirer of many years, a wealthy farmer from the area around Edo. The farmer, deeply impressed with the talents and character of his literary associate, offered to provide Tanehiko whatever he wished, so long as it lay within his powers to grant. After a moment's reflection, the author modestly proposed that there was no single thing he desired, but there was one matter that made him uneasy. In his current station, he had no rent-producing lands, no hereditary retainers, and only a small stipend upon which to subsist. His kerai (servants or retainers) he hired by the season or half-season; in the event of a national emergency, they would be among the first to take to their heels. In conclusion, Tanehiko requested that his farmer friend stand ready to lend him three or four able-bodied men from his estates in a time of crisis. The anecdote shows Tanehiko in a favorable light as one who thinks first of the national welfare, and discounts his own selfish desires. Behind its pious tones, however, may lie more pragmatic considerations. H, as seems likely, members of the kobushin regiments were required to submit periodically lists of purported subordinates or followers who could be "mobilized," Tanehiko may have found himself in need of names to fill up his list. This practical conversation, much elevated and embellished, found its way into Baiu's eulogistic biography. 35 Other anecdotes, decidedly less flattering, portray Tanehiko as a samurai manque, a warrior in name only, whose mettle long since had been corroded by the common indulgences of his age. In this category is the "bathhouse incident," first recorded by Mitamura Engyo (1870-1952) in a journal article of 1924.36 As a true child of Edo, so Engyo has it, Tanehiko was fond of bath water heated to the limits of human endurance. One day upon entering the neighborhood public bathhouse for his customary morning ablutions, he was annoyed to find the tub sequestered by rustic retainers from the Tachibana han, a sizable tozama (outsider) domain centered around Yanagawa in northeastern Kyushu. These latter, unaccustomed to the scalding baths favored in the East, had requested

22

Takaya Hikoshiro

the bathhouse superintendent to lower the water temperature by admitting chilly water from a separate reserve tank. Incensed, Tanehiko protested loudly that he would never set foot in such a tepid bath. The altercation soon escalated, and, in a scene reminiscent of kokkeibon comedy, Tanehiko was flung headlong by the provincials into the cold water tank. Things could have taken an ugly turn at this point. Happily, Shotei Kinzui (1795-1863), engraver and later gesaku author in his own right, had accompanied his friend Tanehiko into the bathhouse, and was able to cool the hot tempers until Tanehiko could apologize and effect a hasty exit. Proud titles and lofty moral values, of course, were not the only legacy of Tanehiko's martial ancestry: His daily subsistence depended in large measure on the stipend granted his predecessors in recognition of their merit. Upon appointment to the kojunin escort regiments in 1626, Tanehiko's great-great-grandfather, Takaya Tanehisa, simultaneously had received entitlement to an annual stipend of 200 hyo or "bales" of rice. This stipend remained unchanged throughout the succeeding years and generations of the Takaya family, an heredity prerogative. Of the three major categories of stipend allotment under the Tokugawa bakufu, a stipend in "bales" was inferior in prestige to chigyo "domain," the allocation of revenue from an appointed area, but in turn superior in quantity and prestige to mere fuchi or "stipend," a direct cash allowance. The exact quantity of rice in a "bale" varied from region to region, but for official purposes in the Kanto region was fixed at 3.5 to, that is, 0.35 koku (about 7 pecks); the theoretical quantity of Tanehiko's stipend was thus 70 koku (about 357 U.S. bushels)Y This is not to say that the author received 200 weighty bales of rice on his doorstep once a year, but rather that he was credited with an amount of cash equivalent to this quantity of rice at officially posted exchange rates. By presenting certification at an officially designated brokerage firm, Tanehiko received, at regular intervals throughout the year, the amount of rice necessary to support his household and the balance in cash. His real income, therefore, was not constant, but fluctuated from payment to payment on the vagaries of an increasingly unstable commodities market. Brokerage fees and compulsory government withholdings in the guise of "loans" further diminished the amount actually received.

Takaya Hikoshiro

23

There have been several attempts to convert Tanehikds stipend into modern equivalents by taking the price of rice as a basis for computations. Ikari Akira, for example, remarks that, in the Bunka-Bunsei period, that is, during the first three decades of the nineteenth century, a typical official quote for rice was 40 ryo in cash per 100 hyo. If, after all government withholding and brokerage fees, Tanehikds "take-home pay'' was 150 hyo, then his annual salary must have been about 60 ryo, or in the neighborhood of 1 million yen ($2,800 in 1965 dollars). 38 A far more ambitious attempt to reconstruct Tanehikds account books is provided by Hayashi Yoshikazu. A quantity of 20Q hyo in 1808, Hayashi begins, would amount to about 80 ryo on the official exchangethe equivalent of some ¥1.5 million in terms of 1968 prices for equivalent quantities of rice, sake, and other essential commodities. But onethird of the stipend had to be drawn in rice, and the rice broker would demand 20 percent commission on the transaction. Moreover, Tanehiko would have to pay 1.5 ryo in his income bracket for every 100 hyo, hence 3 ryo per annum in lieu of theoretical corvee services in his ko· bushin regiment. The result of all Hayashi's computations is that Tanehiko's average annual salary was the equivalent of ¥897,000 cash ($2,491 in 1968 dollars) and 4,200 liters of rice. 3 9 Engrossing as such arithmetical excursions are, they tell us next to nothing about the standard of living that such an income represented at the time. The price of rice, artificially regulated and subsidized by twentieth-century no less than nineteenth-century administrations, is a questionable base index. Moreover, even if a suitable consumer price index could be established, there is no way to accommodate in one's calculations the very different perceived values of currency in a nonindustrial society. One possible recourse is to seek out mention of similar salaries. An eighteenth-century miscellany Ama no taku mo (The salt-kelp of the fisherfolk) considers the case of a certain samurai who drew a stipend of 200 hyo around 1790 and yet, "despite his poverty, was fond of extravagant luxuries, and was a man who knew neither duty nor shame."40 Closer to Tanehikds day, Oshio Heihachiro (1793-183-7), a yoriki (police constable), supported a family of 12 on a nominal income of 200 koku (a real income of about 80 koku, in fact, after han authorities and

24

Takaya Hikoshiro

tenant cultivators had exacted their shares), although the effort required careful budgeting.41 Comparison with published salary schedules offers another method to estimate Tanehiko's relative affiuence. A table of typical remunerations for bakufu-appointed offices lists several professions with stipends of 200 hyo: hiroshiki banta (head of inner apartment supply officers) for Edo Castle, hashiri-metsuke kumigashira (head of courier intelligence officers' division), torimi kumigashira (head of falconers' division), bai (equine veterinarian), Koishikawa yakuen bugyo (magistrate of Koishikawa herbal gardens), jusha-shu (Confucian professor) in the Shoheiko Academy, oku-ishi (physician to the women's quarters), kagakusha Qapanese poetry scholar), and zen-bugyo (master chef). 42 Fukuzawa Yukichi (1835-1901) in his autobiography alludes with contempt to a petty samurai interpreter whose supreme ambition in 1862 was to become tutor to the shogun, for the grand sum of 200 hyo a year. 43 The amount then appears to be a salary that, though far from first-rate, is commensurate with the skills of a valued and experienced professional, and certainly above a mere subsistence level. The question of how well-off Tanehiko was is of more than incidental interest to a literary biographer, for it is closely allied to the issue of whether his literary output was compelled by economic necessity, whether it was merely an incidental diversion, or found its motivation somewhere between these two poles. Many Meiji-period critics, eager to dissociate Tanehiko from the taint of lucre and to impose upon his writing the more congenial, imported notions of literary art unsullied by base motivations, insisted that Tanehiko's revenues from writing amounted to no more than pin money. In 1892, Aeba Koson (18551922), a Meiji-period theater critic and sometime gesaku author himself, expressed a firm conviction: Tanehiko was a samurai of hatamoto rank. Since he received a government stipend, writing to him was essentially a pastime or solace. He lived apart from others and rarely kept company with his fellow writers. The manuscript fees from publishers merely served to clothe his wife and daughters. For this reason, he had dignity as a writer, and could afford to be demanding in his choice of an illustrator or in his instructions to printer and engraver. If the end product did not satisfy him, even slightly, he would have it engraved

Takaya Hikoshiro

25

again or printed a second time. Nor was he at the beck and call of the publisher in his literary designs, but produced in accordance with his own desires. Consequently he was able to produce a work like Inaka Genji whose every feature, be it binding or illustration, is of consummate beauty.... This author alone [of the five gesaku writers under discussion] could enjoy writing at his leisure, untroubled by the cares of earning a living. 44

Untouched by the crass demands of the marketplace, unfettered by the necessity to scrape and toady, insists Koson, Tanehiko produced works of remarkable literary purity. Mizutani Yumihiko {1858-1943) in 1897 takes up the same burden, and insists upon the gentlemanly integrity and noble disinterestedness of Tanehikds creativity: Ryiitei by rank was a hatamoto retainer to the bakufu. As such, his station was already at or above the middle range. Since his stipend was more than enough to cover food and cl~thing, by no means did he compose his works for fame or for subsistence. It was not that he was impervious to or failed to enjoy the reputation and rewards that accompany literary composition, but simply that he did not write to garner life's necessities or to court idle fame. 45

At the opposite extreme, perhaps is Hayashi Yoshikazu, who insisted in the 1960s that Tanehiko's supplementary income from writing was critical to his family's survival, indeed that Tanehiko was compelled to ghostwrite large quantities of pornography in addition to his canonical output toward the end of his life in order to remain solvent. 46 Gesaku fiction for Tanehiko, in Hayashi's view, was a kind of "cottage industry," akin to the sad parasols, sandals, and birdcages manufactured by his similarly straitened fellow samurai. Without a firm conception of contemporary purchasing power and the correlation of salaries to standards of living, it is impossible to make authoritative pronouncements on the subject. In my opinion, however, Tanehiko's situation was not extremely pressed, and there was no absolute necessity for him to augment his salary from outside sources. During the first decade of the nineteenth century, as the result of a series of good harvests, rice was plentiful and prices were low on the official exchanges. The economic trend throughout Tanehikds lifetime was, in a word, a gradual inflationary rise in prices from this low Bunka-period {1804-1818) trough throughout the 1810s and 1820s, and a precipitious upsurge after the onset of the Tenpo Famine in 1833. While the low

26

Takaya Hikoshiro

prices for rice in the first years of the century worked to the advantage of the private consumer, they had an unfavorable effect on the stipendiaries of the bakufu, whose fixed salaries were thus devalued. Kitamura Kojo (1805- ? ), physician to the last of the shoguns, records in his memoirs that, while the official posted exchange rate during his childhood was typically 30 ryo for 100 hyo (bales), in fact during the Bunka period, stipendiaries could anticipate only 19.5 ryo for the same quantity. He cites humiliating instances of samurai forced to eat under open umbrellas indoors because of leaky roofs, or unable to afford doors on their ramshackle palanquins, even when traveling in state to pay their respects at Edo Castle on New Year's DayY When we look at Tanehiko's early diaries, composed during the very worst years of this rice-price depression, however, there is very little evidence of hardship or financial duress-in fact quite the contrary. The young man leads a life of leisure and often idleness, writes when and as long as the mood inspires him, participates fully in urban cultural events, and maintains a busy social calendar. It is remarkable, in fact, how few references there are to commercial transactions throughout the diaries-a contrast to the diaries of Bakin, where credits and debits loom very large. If indeed Tanehiko considered his writing first and foremost a commercial proposition, we would expect mention of manuscript advances and fees, of numbers of copies produced, and close observations of the annual successes and failures of his rivals. A materialistic, businessmanlike attitude toward the creation of manuscripts or even a maternalistic concern for the fate of his books past the publication phase are conspicuously absent from the diary records. One is inclined to concur with Aeba Koson's argument (without the corollary idealizations about Tanehiko's character) and to term Tanehiko's involvement with gesaku fiction a doraku (hobby)-a very serious hobby, granted, and all-engrossing at times, but in the end an avocation and not a livelihood. Nor, indeed, could the writing of gesaku fiction be otherwise. Despite an increasingly dependable schedule of manuscript fees after 1800 and an ever-expanding market for manuscripts, the fact remained that, with the possible exception of Jippensha Ikku (1765-1831), even the most celebrated and widely read gesaku authors could not subsist solely on the proceeds of their fiction compositions. 48 Santo Kyoden

Takaya Hikoshiro

27

depended for a livelihood on his lucrative merchandising of pipes, of pills alleged to promote stamina in reading, and of souvenir crackers in Asakusa. Shikitei Sanba tried his hand at a wide variety of enterprises, most famous of which the hawking of a line of patent medicines and cosmetics. Tori Sanjin (1790-1858) supplemented his revenue from writing with a flourishing commerce in spells and amulets. 49 Even Kyokutei Bakin, who commanded exceptionally high remuneration for works composed with superhuman industry over the term of fifty years, and who imposed an ironclad discipline on family expenditures, was rarely comfortable in his finances, as a perusal of his diaries will attest. Some of Bakin's lifelong obsession with personal economy is doubtless a reflection of his penurious twenties and early thirties-even at age 70 he insisted on supervising the household marketing himself-but it is remarkable how few are the evidences of luxury during Bakin's heyday. Like Sanba, Bakin promoted a line of pills and tonics, nor did he shun, despite his acute sense of artistic dignity, the composition of commercial advertising handbills. Tanehiko did compose similar handbills, as we shall see, but there is no evidence of his having participated (other than by brand endorsement) in similar commercial ventures. The examples of his peers suggest that Tanehiko was in a relatively privileged position. What supplemental income he did reap from his gesaku ventures, one may conjecture, constituted an important, but not critical, "nest egg'' or reservoir for discretionary spending. It is perhaps his own portrait that the young author paints in the description of Hanagata Motojiro, a ronin or masterless samurai of taste, means, and leisure in one of his earliest works, of 1808: In this vicinity there lived a masterless samurai, Hanagata Motojiro by name, who had enlarged and rebuilt his family mansion, inhabited for many generations before him. Possessed of treasures in abundance, full storehouses, and fertile fields, his household only grew more prosperous by the year. He gave himself over to composing poems in Japanese and Chinese, and, while his household counted many members, they lived prosperously. Before him the vast azure sea caught the glint of the morning sun in its waves; to the east he enjoyed vistas of Shimosa and Awa provinces; to the west [the shores of] Takanawa and Shibaura arched like a great bow, from which seaward boats sped forth like arrows. As autumn neared its height, the tinted leaves of his courtyard vied for

28

Takaya Hikoshiro splendor of hue. Inspired by the brocade colors of even the smallest twigs-no whit inferior to the blossoms of spring-some half dozen friends, close as the serried stalks of a reed fence, gathered at Motojiro's estate. They ambled at leisure by the seashore, and, well content with the splendor of the leaves in the sunset glow, they yet expressed their regrets at the brevity of autumn days. 5°

TWO

Literary Beginnings

While Tan~hiko's first :fictional works appeared in 1807, when their author was 25, all evidence suggests Tanehiko had begun to participate in contemporary literary circles at a much earlier age. Tomoyoshi, his father, undoubtedly provided some guidance into the burgeoning world of poetry cliques and amateur literary societies around metropolitan Edo. The early diaries, products of the author's twenties through early thirties, are replete with references to literary activity, whether for commercial publication or for private enjoyment in small coteries of friends. The variegated entries demonstrate the wide-ranging interests of the young author, and his absorption with poetry no less than prose, his taste for historical fact alongside theatrical fantasy. Tanehiko's fondness for the madcap puns and irreverence of kyoka (crazy verse) is attested by his Gesaku rokkasen biography, which maintains that from an early age "he was fond of Tenmei-style kyoka," that is, the kyoka of the 1770s and 1780s, largely dominated by the barbed verse of Ota Nanpo (1743-1823). If the dating in Ryruei kashu (Ryutei's private collection), a manuscript of uncertain derivation, is reliable, Tanehiko's earliest extant works are kyoka. A marginal note to one of the compositions ascribes it to the poet at age 19, in 1801: Shiohi suru koro wa hanami mo nonmono wo orite zo yama no kai wo hiroeru 1

Literary Beginnings

30

The meaning is far from obvious, but one interpretation might be: "While scavenging here on the beach at low tide, I can indulge in blossom viewing as if I were inland. It was only after I had alighted from my palanquin that I retrieved a 'mountain-shell."' Shiohi no yama ("a mountain high and dry'') is an archaic metaphor for a condition exempt from change and decay, for enlightenment or the Western Pure Land, while yama no kai ("mountain-shell") may allude to the conch shell associated with yamabushi mountain ascetics. To take another tack, kai wo hirou ("pick up a shell") may refer to obtaining sexual favors. 2 In either case, spiritual or bawdy, the conceits are difficult to follow. Slightly more lucid is another poem from RyUtei kashu, dated to age 20, that is, 1802: Karagushi no haki to wa miezu haru no yo no tsuki wa yanagi no kami wo sukedomo

Though the moon of a spring night array the willow's tresses, still it ill resembles the sweep of crafted combs.

The verse below, from the same anthology, is ascribed to the author "at about age 22," that is, 1804: Hana no nochi Yoshino no kawa ni mata hitoyo ne ni wa kaeranu tsuki no suzushisa

Shall I sleep one more night by Yoshinds stream now the blossoms are gone? 0 coolness of the moon, never to return to these peaksP

These poems and others extant from Tanehikds twenties betray an indebtedness to the conception of the kyoka advanced by Karakoromo Kisshu (1743-1802). Kisshu, a member of a kojunin escort regiment and a hatamoto stipendiary drawing perhaps one-third the salary of Tanehiko, had studied the formal tradition of Japanese court poetry extensively in his youth. His conception of the kyoka, promoted throughout his career, was as a gentle, only slightly irreverent sister art to orthodox waka. Kisshu's viewpoint was opposed in the 1780s by the vocal adherents of Ota Nanpo, who, under the influence of Chinese poetry of social protest, favored bluntness, topical satire, and a parodic mission in their verses. After the eclipse of this latter "hard" school of kyoka com-

Literary Beginnings

31

position during the uncertainties of the Kansei Reforms, however, Kisshii and his "soft" school recouped some of their earliest authority. The two latter kyoka quoted above differ little in diction and sentiment from the conventions of the orthodox tanka poem, indeed would probably reveal their comic, aberrant qualities only to one intimately acquainted with the rigorous canons of classical poetics. Since Kisshii died when Tanehiko was 20, the association between the two men could not have been of very long duration. Despite its brevity, however, Tanehiko recalled the affiliation with much fondness. In the diary entry for Bunka 5:8:17/6 October 1808, Tanehiko calls to mind the counsels of Kisshii (here designated Suichiku Rojin "Old Gentleman of the Drunken Bambod'): Composed a hokku last night in a dream: Fusu i ima kutabire inu no sugata kana

The recumbent boar, dead-tired, now looks like a dog.

I recall what my master, Suichiku Rojin, once told me: ''Whenever one composes poetry in a dream, whether it be tanka, renga, haikai, or Chinese verse, there will inevitably be places where it is difficult to decide which grammatical particle to insert. This, in fact, is proof of the poem's origins in a dream." Indeed, once I was wide awake, I thought that this verse might have been better if it had begun Fusu i miyo (Lo, the recumbent boar). 4

Tanehikds mentor in the composition of kyoka after Kisshu's death may have been Shikatsube Magao (1752-1829). One kyoka in the Ryutei kashu manuscript, composed "when I was 23 or 24," that is, 1805-1806, according to its author's exegesis, received fifteen "points" from Kyokado, that is, Shikatsube Magao. 5 Magao, originally a confectioner, had studied the art of gesaku writing under Koikawa Harumachi (17441789), the practice of kyoka under Ota Nanpo. After Nanpds abrupt withdrawal from all forms of literary frivolity in 1787, Magao took the helm in the Nanpo "circle." While Magads interpretation of the kyoka increasingly resembled Kisshii's lofty, gentler ideals, the older rough-edged Nanpo conception persisted in the activities of his rival, Ishikawa Masamochi/Rokujuen (1753-1830). Masamochi, a son of the ukiyo-e artist Ishikawa Toyonobu

Literary Beginnings

32

(1711-1785), like Magao looked to Nanpo for his early training in kyoka. His kyoka epithet, Yadoya no Meshimori (roughly, "hospitality girl"), suggests his day-to-day occupation as the proprietor of an inn for provincials sojourning in Edo to pursue litigation. As the result of irregularities in his innkeeping services, however, Masamochi suffered banishment from Edo in 1791; until his pardon he pursued the safer path of classical studies in suburban NaitO Shinjuku, the first post station on the road to Kofu. Tanehiko may have made Masamochi's acquaintance in Naito Shinjuku, or met him after his amnesty and return to Edo in 1805. Verses in Ryutei kashu leave no doubt about the affiliation: On Rokujuen's new home in Reigan-jima, Minato-machi:

Akashi-cho e haiwataru hodo

Most charmingthese apartments of Suma by the bay/ of Suma in Minato-machi"within crawling distance" of Akashi-cho!

Hashira-date sore mo iroha no shirushi shite ie no konomi wa Gagen shuran

Even the placing of the central pillars goes by the alphabet: the tastes of the house tend toward Gagen shu ran. 6

Minato naru Suma no uraya wa fuzei ari

The latter effusion, probably intelligible only to those who witnessed the house-building ceremonies in question, is clear enough in its allusion to Gagen shuran (Compendium of refined vocabulary; printed 1826-1849), a massive dictionary of words, phrases, and correct usage edited by Masamochi. The earlier kyoka, a web of wordplay, alludes on the one hand to the Akashi-cho district of Edo, and on the other hand to the "Suma" and ''Akashi" chapters of Genji monogatari. Haiwataru hodo is a direct quotation of a phrase in the "Suma" chapter: Akashi no ura wa tada haiwataru hodo nareba (since the bay of Akashi was within crawling distance [of Suma] ...)-a possible topical reference to Masamochi's ongoing scholarly investigations into Genji monogatari.7 Although the evidence is only circumstantial, it seems highly probable that Tanehiko was more than a kyoka companion, was in fact an

Literary Beginnings

33

active student of Masamochi during his youth. It is easy to imagine Takaya Hikoshiro, himself an aspirant to the plural roles of antiquarian, literary historian, lexicographer, poet, and pastiche artist so skillfully combined by Masamochi in his career, among the most attentive listeners to the lectures Masamochi conducted at intervals in his home. An early interest in haikai poetry is no less apparent throughout the pages of the author's early diaries. Here, however, it is difficult to adduce any clear master or factional affiliation. Although Tanehiko was on speaking terms with kyoka luminaries of the first magnitude, there is no evidence in the journals of his familiarity with dominant haikai figures of contemporary Edo like Natsume Seibi (1749-1816) or Suzuki Michihiko (1757-1819). The Gesaku rokkasen biography asserts that Tanehiko was fond of the "old manner" in haikai, although, by the nineteenth century, virtually all schools of haikai composition advocated the restoration of lapsed pristine ideals, and this statement is of negligible value. Especially in the diary from 1808, transcriptions of haikai and senryu verses by Tanehiko and friends predominate-so much so, in fact, that one wonders if the original conception of this diary was not as a registry and copybook for poems, rather than as a day-to-day personal or domestic journal. In the earlier diaries of 1808 and 1809, most notably, Tanehiko expends much energy in attending what seem to be informal haikai clubs and periodic assemblies of amateurs; no single name recurs with noticeable frequency. His friend Hokusai visits to announce his forthcoming Hokuunkai ''Northern Cloud Group" salon (Bunka 5:8:8/27 September 1808); after developing a bad cold, Tanehiko is forced to cancel plans to attend Master Seizan's hokku group (Bunka 7:1:22/25 February 1810); despite a troublesome indisposition, he participates in a certain Master Sekkos afternoon hokku gathering (Bunka 7:2:11/15 March 1810). Only occasionally are there glimpses of the agenda during these encounters. In some instances, no doubt, the haikai group was a pretext for bibulous conviviality among friends. At other times, though, there was a firm structure to the assembly, and compositions underwent serious critical review. Within the closed ranks of the haikai group, eccentric and even avantgarde experimentation could be countenanced. An attempt to employ

Literary Beginnings

34

Chinese metrics and rhyme schemes in Japanese-language poetry, for example, was a feature of one hokkai group session Tanehiko attended. (The rhyming elements of this "quatrain," underlined in the original text, here appear in italics.)

'*

Attended hokkai gathering organized by Ohira (or some such name). Composed "Chinese verse in kana " [kana-sht], using rhyme words. ["cold'1 Chinese rhyme: kan Japanese rhyme: Series i, ki, shi, chi, etc. "Seeking the Blossoms" (heptasyllabic) Sakishi to tsugeshi yamamori ga fumi kasa narade kazasu ogi yutakeki mino ni kawaritaru kono usuhaori hana no fubuki wo mizare [sic] wa samushi

"In the mountains all has blossomed"Thus the warden's message toldAnd on high a hat no longer But an open fan I hold. From thick raincoat to a thin cloak I have changed my outer garb, Yet the sleet through unseen blossoms Pierces me so very cold.

'* .

If you convert the rhyme-words into proper characters, they rhyme with

kan

8

As if the manifestation of trochaic tetrameter in a Japanese poem were not alarming enough, this composition attempts bilingual end rhyme: in Japanese, where the device is wholly alien, as well as in Chinese,. through an ideated series of rhyming gloss characters han ~~ (for fumi), k'uan '{ (yutakeki), and han ~ (samushi). Young as he was, Tanehiko had established a reputation for himself by 1808 as a skilled judge of haikai, and was in demand as an arbiter: .:Young bracken -Monsoon rains -Bird-clappers -Plovers Four set topics. Request today to grade at hokku competition [hokku-awase]. (Bunka S:interc. 6:23/14 August 1808)9

Literary Beginnings

35

Compositions on three of these topics-Tanehiko's own?-appear in the entry for Bunka 5:interc. 6:25/16 August 1808. Three verses awarded high marks at the hokku competition-presumably held during the mostly unrecorded 7th month -are transcribed in the entry for Bunka 5:7:28/18 September 1808. In connection with another contest, Tanehiko remarks a few days later: Picked up grading of hokku on five autumn topics. (Bunka 5:8:9/28 September 1808)10

The laconic entry does not make it clear who wrote the hokku in question, who did the grading, and who carried out the collecting. Refreshingly unambiguous, however, are two other passages from the same autumn: Did hokku grading despite the press of much business. (Bunka 5:8:14/3 October 1808) Master Eishi brought a box of manja jam buns as a present for my grading. (Bunka 5:8:18/7 October 1808)11

Though not a formal, paid master of haikai, Tanehiko nevertheless was not without esteem in contemporary haikai circles. It is safe to assume that this authority derived in large measure from his extensive knowledge of older haikai texts. Even without an inquiry into the diction and style of Tanehikds personal haikai verses, the antiquarian proclivities of the author in his approach to the art show up clearly throughout the journals. While paraphrasing remarks from the travel diary, Tsukushi kiko (A journey to Kyushu), Tanehiko takes especial interest in the description of a stele near Nagasaki bearing a poem by the haikai notable Mukai Kyorai (1651-1704); he incorporates a thumbnail biography of Kyorai into the entry (Bunka 6:7:2/12 August 1809). In commenting on the puzzling lexical item madosen, (literally "window cash") used in the Shobikin (Singed tail zither, 1701) collection by Enomoto Kikaku (1661-1707), he deduces, after a careful comparison of autograph and printed texts, that the word is no erroneous transcription. The word madosen, he concludes, is an old term for a defunct form of property tax levied on the number of windows in a building (Bunka 6:12:26/31 January 1810).1 2

36

Literary Beginnings

The Gesaku rokkasen biography asserts that the author "in his prime was fond of theaters," but even in his youth this dramatic fascination had taken deep root. Tanehiko's interest in the stage and adulation of its performers extended to all phases of the theater, historic and modern, and was exceptional even in an age when detailed knowledge of plays, programs, and actors was a sine qua non of urban sophistication. Mitamura Engyo tells an anecdote of how once, during the course of a conversation with a fellow kojunin escort member, Tanehiko casually began a sentence Ano Roko-san ga ... (Of course, Mr. Roko...). Clearly Tanehiko was about to comment on one of several celebrated artistic generations of onnagata women's role performers. who used the haikai name Roko. His interlocutor, however, a samurai far more attentive to the proprieties of language and decorum, took umbrage that his host should allude to so lowly an element of society with the honorific suffix -san-by no means the automatic title at this period that it is today. Grasping a spear from the lintel, he hounded a terrified Tanehiko through the rooms of his house, all the while threatening in no uncertain terms to terminate his impudent existence. Fortunately for the author, a dark nook under the veranda provided a secure hiding place, and his righteous pursuer soon tired of the chase and went home. 13 Despite frequent references to the reading of plays, the extant diaries only infrequently mention attendance at performances; Tanehiko's wife and mother, by contrast, were more regular theatergoers. An entry for August 1808 discusses at some length the current success of lroiri otogigusa (Storybook themes illustrated in colors), a kabuki dramatization of the life and violent murder of Kohada Koheiji, an actor in the troupe of Ichikawa Danjuro I (1660-1704).14 Starring as Koheiji was the veteran actor Onoe Matsusuke I/Shoroku (1744-1815), long renowned for his nimbleness in "quick changes" of character or costume, but by 1808 in failing health. Tanehiko's entry mentions, in phrasing that suggests a firsthand observation, that Shoroku appeared only in the first two acts during the morning. Tanehiko also notes that popular opinion had attributed the malarial fevers or ague Shoroku suffered to demonic possession by the spirit of Koheiji, and that Shoroku, not entirely dismayed at the circulation of such a report, had conducted ostentatious requiem services for Koheiji at the Ekoin memorial and commissioned a grand

Literary Beginnings

37

new grave marker to mollify the ghost. The play, Tanehiko concludes, is an incomprehensible mishmash of three different stories; that it should receive such popular acclaim is most ludicrous. Entries for August 1809 record the attempted revival of Chikamatsu's Nippon furisode no hajimari (Origins of the Japanese maiden's kimono, 1718) at the Ichimura-za theater, its failure after a run of only eight days, and the success of its more conventional replacement. Regret underlies the terse wording of the observations, but there is no evidence Tanehiko himself patronized the well-intentioned production. 15 An entry of May 1810 confirms that the author did view a performance of puppet-joruri, ]iraiya monogatari (Tales of Jiraiya), its story no doubt inspired by Kannatei Onitake's (1760-1818) successful yomihon, [Katakiuchi kidan], Jiraiya setsuwa (Wondrous tale of a vendetta: The story of Jiraiya, 1806), but records no personal reaction. 16 While Tanehiko only observed, and did not participate in public kabuki performances or productions, it is certain that he devoted himself enthusiastically to chaban-kyogen amateur theatricals. Shizu no odamaki (Bobbin notes), a contemporary miscellany, alludes with mock horror in 1802 to the recent feverish mania for amateur productions, even among the well-bred: The popularity of the shamisen exceeded all bounds: Among scions of respectable families of long pedigree, whether first, second, or third sons, there was none who did not twang the shamisen. From moor to mountain, morn till dusk, the strumming resounded incessantly. Matters reached the point where these amateurs swarmed into kabuki theaters to perform in the lowliest ranks of the orchestra. Nor was this the end of the contagion, for they organized amateur theatricals, and performed in households of distinction. Even hatamoto bannermen of impeccable ancestry aped the manners of the riverbed beggars [that is, kabuki actors]. They whooped and pranced about in onnagata female roles, heroic tachiyaku leads, or villainous katakiyaku parts. 17

The Gesaku rokkasen biography stresses Tanehiko's active involvement in chaban-kyogen amateur performances. Whether this dilettantish activity involved actual staging and performance, or whether it was a more sedate "interpretative reading" of an original or doctored promptbook is not clear from the wording. Some of Tanehiko's popularity in chaban circles undoubtedly stemmed

"---------------------------

38

Literary Beginnings

from his strong physical resemblance to the actor Banda Mitsugora ID/Shuka {1775-1832), one of the idols of the kabuki stage in the first decades of the nineteenth century. 18 An uncanny ability to mimic the voice and histrionic attitudes of the celebrity consummated the effect. Again according to Gesaku rokkasen, Tanehiko was adept at mimicking the artistic mannerisms of the late Bando Shuka [that is, Mitsugoro III] .... Since he was the very image of Mitsugoro, in amateur theatricals or in chaban interludes his performing cronies hailed him as "Mitsuhiko."19

Good-natured jesting among theatrical amateurs, the passage implies, led to the creation of the portmanteau nickname "Mitsuhiko," a fusion of "Mitsugoro' and the "Hikoshiro' of the author's tsusho (common name). Not surprisingly, the diaries betray a strong interest in the activities of Banda Mitsugora. To amuse himself, Tanehiko composes a number of humorous variants on the lyrics to a popular song, a song whose shamisen accompaniment, he guesses, may have been devised by Banda Mitsugora (Bunka 13:8:14/5 September 1816). In one of the earliest entries of his 1808 diary, Tanehiko generates a whimsical kyoka to assert that the great crowds and great success of a- play in which Banda Mitsugora played the priest Dainichi add up to mitsu-dai "three -}(. characters," that is, to the crest of Banda Mitsugora ill, in which three :}( characters are bent and elongated together into a trefoil shape. 20 This crest, in which three identical elements are welded into a unified pattern, may have inspired the creation of Tanehiko's own Mitsuhiko rebus emblem, in which interlocking katakana symbols for the syllables hi and ko are repeated three times in a cube-like pattern. This "trademark" appears in a prototype version in the 1811 gokan, Suzuki-bocho Aoto no kireaji, but by 1816 had assumed its definitive shape, and appears frequently throughout the entire range of the author's works. 21 The literary pseudonyms adopted by Takaya Hikoshira in his young adulthood provide their own evidence of involvement in numerous literary circles, and the consolidation of his distinctive literary identity. The adoption of Ryutei (''Willow Pavilion'') and of Tanehiko (roughly, "Seed-boy") was apparently very early. In his earliest extant piece of

Literary Beginnings FIGURE

39

5 "Mitsuhiko'' Emblem

From Ryiitei Tanehiko, Suzuki-bocho Aoto no kireaji (Eijudo, 1811)-

prose, the summer 1806 preface to the yomihon [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, the author signs his name simply as "Ryutei shujin," "Master of the Willow Pavilion." The 1807 Chinese preface to the same work, the contribution of a friend, refers to the eager junior author simply as "Tanehiko."22 "Ryutei" and "Tanehiko'' were thus concurrent epithets from the very onset of the author's career, and continued in use, whether separately or in conjunction, until his death. Unlike his contemporaries, who delighted in a plethora of literary aliases, Tanehiko retained a single name through all his fictional compositions-a possible indication of the serious attitude he adopted toward his literary avocation, and certainly an index of how rapidly "Ryutei Tanehiko'' achieved "brand-name" status, sufficient in and of itself to motivate sales. The origin of ''Ryutei" -a "pavilion" name of a type common among authors and still favored by narrative entertainers-does not demand too much exercise of the imagination. A willow or willows on the grounds of the Osakite regiment manor may have inspired the epithet, for a yomihon preface of summer 1807 is signed "Tanehiko, in front of

40

Literary Beginnings

a window in the RyUtei," where "Ryutei" retains its literal value as a toponym. 23 The author's affinity for the supple strength and graceful humility of the willow emerges repeatedly in literary sobriquets throughout his career. The Gesaku rokkasen biography, after relating the anecdote of how young Tanehiko grew docile upon hearing his father's didactic verse on the willow buffeted in the wind, mentions that, as a youth, Tanehiko bore the kyoka name Yanagi no Kazenari-a mockarchaic title whose punning meaning is "he/it is the wind in the willows." From this, the account concludes, evolved the name "Ryutei," in which the character for "willow" appears again, but in its Sino-Japanese rendition. 24 Though little independent evidence exists for the use of this kyoka epithet, much of the author's senryu or light epigram composition appeared under the alias "Mokubo' :;f.. ~p -a name derived from the Sino-Japanese readings of the two graphic components in the character ryu ~4r (willow). 25 A completely different, non-botanical explanation of "Ryutei," and one with much merit, is advanced by Nobuhiro Shinji. In a discussion of the abundant intercourse between early nineteenth-century gesaku authors and professional comic raconteurs, the rakugoka, Nobuhiro mentions that Tanehiko was an especial admirer of the rakugo artist RyUtei Saraku and adopted the comedian's professional surname as his own. He quotes an alternate textual version of the Kaku ya ika ni no ki miscellany, which claims that Saraku in the company of the more famous rakugo artist Hayashiya Shozo (1781-1842) would go familiarly to and from Tanehikds home, and that Tanehiko assumed the "RyUtei" sobriquet in emulation of Saraku.26 If this account is true, it may be that Tanehiko at one point contemplated appearances as a rakugo performer himself, and that the partial adoption of a celebrity's professional name was a first step to this goal. Whether there was an actual master-disciple bond between Saraku and Tanehiko is moot, but it would not be surprising for a gesaku writer to appropriate elements from another artist's professional name. Bakin, for example, derived his epithet from the professional name of a koshaku-shi "heroic lecturer," Takarai Bakin. 27 The origins of the "Tanehikd' component of the author's literary name are more obscure, though here again there is no lack of specula-

Literary Beginnings

41

tion. Typically, early biographical sources see in it a contraction of one or another epithet the author assumed in kyoka circles. Ogino Baiu's account mentions that in Karakoromo Kisshu's kyoka group, the author assumed the pseudonym Kokoro no Tanenari -literally, "it is the seed of the heart," an allusion to the celebrated opening statement in the "Kana Preface'' to the Kokinshu that ''Japanese poetry, taking as its seeds the human heart (hito no kokoro wo tane to shite), has blossomed forth in myriad leaves of words." To distinguish the young poet Takaya Hikoshiro from several other disciples also named "Hikoshiro," Baiu insists, Kisshu dubbed him "'Tane-' no 'Hiko-"' -literally "the 'Tane-' Hiko-" -which in due course collapsed into "Tanehiko."28 Gesaku rokkasen proposes a similar theory, but states that the author's kyoka alias was Kokoro no Tanetoshi, and that the nickname "'Tanetoshi' no Hiko-" or "Tanehiko'' served to distinguish the young man from other familiar characters in the neighborhood who shared his "common name" of Hikoshiro. A third possible explanation of the origins of "Tanehiko," a theory not proposed in any of the traditional biographies but which has the virtue of simplicity to recommend it, is that "Tanehiko'' is an intentional allusion to the name of Takaya Tomohisa's direct ancestor Takaya Tanehisa (? -1690). Tanehisa, summoned to office by the shogun Iemitsu in 1626, was the first member of the Takaya family to enjoy official appointment in the Tokugawa bakufu, and to receive the annual stipend of 200 hyo that was the prerogative of later generations. It is likely that he was the first member of the Takaya to take up residence in Edo, and his burial site in Akasaka became the family plot for all subsequent heirs. Tanehisa, then, was the ancestor responsible for the firm foundation of the Takaya-a social immigrant, who forsook the scattered ranks of the defeated Takeda clan and planted the family standard firmly within the boundaries of the Tokugawa camp. By selecting an artistic name reminiscent of "Tanehisa," Tanehiko perhaps intended to express emulation or admiration of this patriarchal figure, or for the era in which Tanehisa prospered. Similar cases of ancestral allusion in personal artistic names are certainly available. Hiraga Gennai (1729-1779), born Shiraishi Gennai, adopted the earlier ancestral surname "Hiraga'' in the 1750s after succeeding as head of the household. Motoori Norinaga, born into a cotton wholesaler's family as Ozu Yajiro, cast off the

42

Literary Beginnings

Ozu surname for the ancestral "Motoori" when he traveled from Matsusaka to study in Kyoto in 1752. It is not unreasonable to suppose that the sloughing of the plebeian surname "Ozu" represented to the young Norinaga a break with the distasteful mercantile ambitions his family had embraced. Young Tanehiko, too, may have wished a closer affiliation with a bolder, more heroic segment of his family's past history, and expressed the desire in an analogous name. This explanation, of course, does not contradict the two traditional explanations proffered earlier: There well may have been several complementary reasons behind the epithet "Tanehiko." The diaries of 1808-1816 chronicle a great number of comings and goings: almost 150 distinct names appear in the brief compass of their pages. Most of these figures, however, their identities further obscured by fanciful literary pseudonyms, are too minor to trace. At the same time, the diaries do record frequent and familiar relations between the young author and a fair number of first-magnitude authors, artists, publishers, and antiquarians. Especially in the latest diary of 1816-by which date a major publishing success had established him as a prominent rising star-associations with celebrities are much in evidence. While it is extremely difficult to establish connections between Tanehiko and his literary peers at the crest of his career, in his youth the author did not lack for contacts with the creative vanguard of contemporary Edo. Utei Enba (1743-1822), well into his sixties, befriended the literary aspirant. In his diary, Tanehiko strolls through Ueno, enjoying the cherry blossoms in a party of five, among whom is Danshuro, that is, Utei Enba (Bunka 7:3:3/6 April1810); while on a late blossom-viewing excursion two weeks later, he fortuitously encounters Danshuro similarly engaged (Bunka 7:3:18/21 April 1810).29 Enba, a pioneer in the restoration of the comic rakugo narrative tradition after a lapse of seventy years, had instituted in 1786 a series of sporadic hanashi no kai "comic story meetings" in restaurants throughout Edo. On Kansei 4:1:21/13 February 1792, Enba organized the first regular hanashizome (first comic story session of the year) as a showplace for proponents of the art. This hanashizome of 1792 inaugurated a tradition of annual, ever more grandiose recitals, all conducted on the same date. The roster

Literary Beginnings

43

of individuals in attendance at the 1810 hanashizome, an event attended by Tanehiko in the company of his artistic collaborator Hokusii, includes such luminaries as Shikitei Sanba, Santo Kyoden, his brother Santo Kyozan, and Utagawa Toyokuni (1769-1825). 30 Enba, by profession a construction foreman and retailer of cotton goods, was a pivotal figure in literary circles of the time, an animated participant in kyoka verse and chaban-kyogen amateur theatrical groups as well as rakugo clubs. His antiquarian and dramatic interests, though, were probably the mortar that cemented his friendship with Tanehiko. In 1840, long after Enba's death, Tanehiko was to recall how, thirty years earlier at his home in Honjo, Enba had shown him a copy of a rare ukiyozoshi work by Enomoto Kikaku, Yoshiwara Genji gojushi-kun (Fifty-four courtesans of a Yoshiwara Genji, 1687); just by looking at the illustrations, Tanehiko recalled, Enba had been able to ascribe the artwork to Hishikawa Moronobu {1618?-1694). Tanehiko commemorates Enba, learned author of the chronicles of early kabuki Hana no Edo kabuki nendaiki (Kabuki annals of flower-decked Edo; printed 1841), in the first installment of the Shohon-jitate (Stories in promptbook form, 1815-1831) series: A figure in a backstage greenroom, one of the frontispiece illustrations, bears Enba's features. 31 Relations with the artistic colossus Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849) and his entourage were far more convivial. Hokusai, another son of Honjo, was responsible for illustrating four of Tanehiko's original yomihon ventures. Business transactions, therefore, dominate intercourse between Tanehiko and Hokusai in the diaries, but certainly not to the exclusion of friendship. Even though Tanehiko was something of a homebody, to judge by the disproportionate number of visits received against visits made, he frequently spent his afternoons in Hokusai's home and studios. On Bunka 6:12:24/29 January 1810, Tanehiko pays a visit to Hokusai, then accompanies him and his disciple Hokusi1 to the home of ''Nishimura," i.e., the publisher Nishimuraya Yohachi. The entry for the following day records that Tanehiko discussed the previous night his ideas for a new yomihon, Yctoya 0-Shichi zense monogatari kanoko no shitazome (A tale of 0-Shichi the greengrocer's daughter in a previous life: dappled base dyeing), with the potential artist, Hokusai. The gathering at the Nishimuraya was in effect a brainstorming session,

44

Literary Beginnings

to plot literary strategies for the coming year. Other encounters seem more relaxed. On Bunka 7:1:10/13 February 1810, Tanehiko's path crosses Hokusai's as they are both intent on paying New Year's courtesy calls on one another. Hokusai makes Tanehiko the present of a daisho or almanac sheet on which, in imaginative design, is expressed the annually variable succession of longer and shorter months throughout the year ~though oddly enough, to judge by Tanehiko's recopying of the calendar ~nto his diary two days later, it was a gift of a calendar for Bunka 8/1811-1812, not Bunka 7/1810-1811). A few days later, Tanehiko practices on a "Dutch abacus" at Hokusai's (Bunka 7:2:1/5 March 1810). When Tanehiko visits Hokusai on Bunka 7:3:26/29 April 1810, he learns of the special prize of silver and stipend that the bakufu is about to bestow on one of Hokusai's disciples, Hokushu, for Hokushu's exemplary filiality in the care of his grandmother. For some reason-possibly as an inscription to a commemorative print-Hokusai requests that Tanehiko and Ogino Baiu jointly compose a brief "puff piece" on the reward and its recipient. Uneasiness ensues, however, when Hokusai fails to accept the resultant work, instead preferring to use a text by an earlier bidder for the contract, Jippensha Ikku (Bunka 7:4:1/3 May 1810). This intimacy with Hokusai persisted long after the diary years. Although Hokusai did not illustrate Tanehiko's fictional output after 1813, he supplied original illustrations and reproductions of historic illustrations for Tanehiko's academic miscellany Kankonshiryo in 1827, and the cover for a gokan work of 1833. Tanehiko, in turn, provided the text for Hokusai's Shingata komon cho (Catalog of new pattern crests, 1824), a pattern book of geometric decorative designs, as well as laudatory (if uninspired) prefaces for a volume of Hokusai manga (Hokusai sketchbooks; printed 1814-1878) and Fugaku hyakkei (One hundred views of Mt. Fuji, ca. 1835-1847), both around 1834. 32 Relations with numerous disciples also remained close. It was Tanehiko, Kitamura Nobuyo records, who helped to effect a conciliation between Hokusai and his intransigent son-in-law, Shigenobu (1787?-1833?). In grateful recognition of the author's intercession, Shigenobu adopted the artistic surname Yanagawa (Willow River), an echo of Ryutei (Willow Pavilion), and faithfully served as the author's first long-term artistic collaborator, from 1812 through 1820. 3 3

Literary Beginnings

45

Hokusai may have been responsible for introducing Tanehiko to one of the leading publishers of the day, Nishimura (also Nishimuraya) Yohachi II, the proprietor of the Eijudo. Bakin provides a telling profile of this shrewd businessman: This Nishimuraya Yohachi was the adopted heir of the original Yohachi and, as I have explained in the previous chapter, the natural second son of the vernacular-book dealer Urokogataya Magobei, who went out of business during the Tenmei period [1781-1789]. He was no fool in his conduct, and had a sharp mind for commercial affairs. It was his opinion, and often repeated, that it was the publishers who were responsible for the celebrity of authors and artists in the world at large, and that publishers were, so to speak, printing advertising handbills on their behalf. And so it was up to the author or the artist to petition him for the favor of publication; he himself would never request favors of them. 34

Nishimura Yohachi's firm, the Eijudo, owed much of its initial prosperity to its adept exploitation of the new medium of nishiki-e polychrome printing in the 1770s. While the rival firm of Tsutaya Juzaburo/ Koshodo launched Utamaro (1750-1806) and Sharaku (fl. 1794-1795), the Eijudo riposted with Kiyonaga (1735-1815), Toyokuni, and Eishi (1756-1829). Also noteworthy among the products of this press were reprintings of old, pre-Genroku joruri scripts. These texts, cheaply prepared from old printing blocks, were marketed every spring in the northern provinces, where they became known as Sendai joruri or Sendai shohon "Sendai scripts," presumably from the name of the urban center through which they were distributed. The extensive joruri archives of the Eijudo must have attracted the young author quite as strongly as the immediate prominence of the firm among mass-market vernacular publishers. 35 The exact date of Tanehikds affiliation with Nishimuraya Yohachi is not known, but Bakin suggests it was in the germinal years of his literary career: After this [Nishimura's initiating friendly relations with Santo Kyoden by 1806], Tanehiko too sought introduction through a certain party, had an interview with Nishimuraya Yohachi, and requested that his own kusazoshi be printed. And in fact "Nishi-Yd' did agree to print Tanehikds works. Nishimuraya would come and go in visits to Tanehiko and his circle. As their acquain-

46

Literary Beginnings tance became more familiar, even their wives and children exchanged social calls. 36

From the publication of Tanehikds first gokan effort in 1811 through 1825-1826, when Tanehiko's publishing allegiance shifted to the Senkakudo of Tsuruya Kiemon, the commercial, creative, and personal benefits of affiliation with Nishimuraya Yohachi dominated his career. In the context of the times, it is no accident that Tanehikds earliest works of fiction between 1807 and 1813 were yomihon romances. The respectability of the format was undoubtedly one factor in his decision. Since its origins in the latter eighteenth century, the yomihon had been the obedient if somewhat dour daughter of scholarly research, whether by students of Chinese or of native antiquities. Though never distant from the dust of the studio, the yomihon retained by the same token an air of dignified gentility, and enjoyed an identity distinct from the common run of gesaku fiction. More pragmatic reasons, too, may have swayed the young author's interests. The evolving Edo yomihon of the early 1800s-less pedantic, more dynamic than its eighteenth-century antecedents-suddenly enjoyed a wildfire popularity. Until 1802, fewer than 10 new yomihon titles appeared annually. By 1803, the number had risen to 15; by 1806, 32; and in 1808, the height of the craze, an astonishing 70 new yomihon titles flooded the market. 37 The combined volume of Tanehikds three maiden works, published in 1807, suggests that he had been drafting several titles for a year or more prior to the actual publication. It might have been the advice of his kyoka mentor, Ishikawa Masamochi-whose several yomihon works appeared in a no less dramatic single surge in 1809-that led the young author to submit his works at this juncture. Any one of a number of influential .literary associates, though, may have acted as sponsor to the novice author, for the earliest yomihon works already demonstrate impressive connections in the publishing world. Hokusai himself illustrated half of the 8 yomihon titles, and 6 appeared through Yamazaki Heihachi/Sanseido, the initial publisher of Bakin's Hakkenden. 38 The world of these first yomihon, in overview, is above all somber and menacing, despite occasional idyllic intervals. Its characteristic settings-fortuitously similar to the Gothic scenarios only recently past

Literary Beginnings

47

their vogue in Europe-are trackless forests, ruined temples, eerie mountain caverns, its favored time nights of deep darkness or violent storm. Populating this menacing universe is an inexhaustible horde of brigands, pirates, malicious thugs, scheming ministers, and sorcerers, whose innate malevolence drives them to ever more heinous offenses. The innocent fall easy prey to their wiles, and not infrequently suffer gruesome ends. Tanehiko more than satisfies the contemporary appetite for grisly scenes of rape, torture, and picturesque dismemberment. Behind the chaotic tumult looms the ordering presence of destiny, immutable and beyond appeal. Destiny fixes moral character no less than one's features at birth, nor is there any way to alter this hereditary propensity toward good or evil. The rewards or retribution destiny dispenses at its own discretion are equally ineluctable. This predetermination of all things, alternatively couched in Buddhist or popular Confucian terms, above all compels the continuous realignment of related or dependent existences: However improbable the odds, separated siblings must encounter one another after many years, mother and child must again embrace, villain and avenger must find themselves lodgers in adjacent rooms at an inn. What to the uninformed seems a series of preposterous coincidences is in fact the inevitable result of this compelling attraction of related lives. Cruel though the dictates of destiny may seem, the yomihon repeatedly demonstrate the certain victory of righteousness over evil and disruption. However much evil is an inalienable component of the natural order, its forces must succumb in the end to the greater authority of virtue. The Tanehiko yomihon becomes an extended allegory of the power of the natural moral order to heal its wounds, and redress imbalances. In the initial pages of each work-the brief hottan or "origin'' segment-a world of calm and order suffers a brutal disruption as the result of a quarrel, abduction, calumny, or murder. When the main action begins in the first chapter-usually some dozen years later, to allow the infants of the hottan episode time to mature into adolescent heroes and heroines-evil reigns uncontested, while the good toil under cruel oppression. The slow, circuitous course by which order again triumphs dictates the development of the yomihon. By convention, the orderly world of the hottan must return by the closing pages of the work: Long

48

Literary Beginnings

years of separation must end in reunion; vengeance must achieve consummation; while usurped rank and privilege must revert to their rightful claimants. The players in this dualistic pageant, not surprisingly, are creatures of extremes: There would seem to be little middle ground between scheming fiends of deepest perfidy and heroes of granitic virtue, maidens of oppressive purity. Villainy, at first glance, disposes of the greater authority: Earthly and supernatural forces rally to its command. By contrast, the vessel of righteousness is most frequently the weakest member of society-a young woman, adolescent or newly married, often from a provincial background, without powerful family associations or immediate protectors. Such is the strength of moral armament, and so overwhelming the courage that nobility of purpose infuses that even these hapless figures, at first the victims of every indignity, triumph resoundingly over their persecutors. O.:Yumi, the uncompromisingly virtuous protagonist of Awa no naruto (The roaring straits of Awa, 1807), is the type of the suffering heroine. Abducted by pirates from her home in fourteenth-century Settsu, sold to a brothel on Shikoku, brutally mistreated by a sadistic bawd, she narrowly escapes branding when her suitor, a local daimyo, rescues her at the last possible moment. Her new-found felicity is illusory, however, since a second pirate (the bastard son, in fact, of the first) captures her anew, and forces her to serve as his mistress in a wretched mountain shack. In an attempt to obtain funds necessary to redeem her family honor, she accidentally suffocates a young pilgrim lodger-none other than her long lost daughter. A miracle elixir, happily, resuscitates the girl, but the ignominy of her captive life prompts O.:Yumi to commit suicide in expiation. It is as a ghost, finally, that O.:Yumi realizes her revenge, and leads the too-numerous pirates of the tale to a well-deserved demise. Not one, but three "orphan maidens" suffer compounded misfortunes in Asamagatake omokage-zoshi (Mt. Asama book of remembrances, 1809) and its sequel, Oshu shujaku monogatari (Tale of Oshu's resolute attachment, 1812). During a quarrel on board a ferry up the Yodo River in 1370, a mirror-maker gathers up by mistake a young baby who resembles his own; only too late does he realize his error. Dan no

Literary Beginnings

49

lssai, a master of the tea ceremony traveling on the same boat, is in a similar predicament when he finds not his daughter but a strange infant in his arms. He has no choice but to raise the girl as Yadokari along with his natural daughter, Wasuregai. Dan no lssai's sudden murder at the hands of an invisible assailant in 1377 sets young Wasuregai and Yadokari off on a quixotic vendetta quest throughout northern Japan. The mirror-maker's foster daughter, meanwhile, flees mistreatment at the hands of her stepmother and is rescued in the wilds by a young aristocrat, Asama Tomoenojo. As their love deepens, however, the fierce jealousy of Nadeshiko, Tomoenojos haughty primary wife, grows daily more implacable. Nadeshiko taunts her rival mercilessly and administers a fatal dose of a loathsome, disfiguring poison. Her victim's vindictive ghost subsequently possesses Nadeshiko, and compels her to mutilate, then drown herself after delivering a full confession. While on assignment in Kyoto, Asama Tomoenojo becomes enamoured of Oshii, a splendid courtesan-the former Wasuregai. Their love is short-lived, however, since Oshii is murdered as the result of a misunderstanding. Yadokari, now a beggar balladeer, finally avenges the murder of Dan no Issai. The ghost of Wasuregai/Oshii, incongruously, appears in the final pages to Tomoenojo, and leads him on a dream journey to Mt. Ch'ing Liang in China. There she reveals that they had been lovers in previous lives two hundred years earlier, and that in consequence, their most recent lives have been deeply intertwined. The pattern of the suffering heroine in a fourth early yomihon, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi (Ghost story of recent times: Stars of a frosty night, 1808), takes an unexpected turn. 0-Hana, rescued from murderous brigands by a young ronin, Takanishi Ihei, presently falls in love with him; somewhat predictably, she is abducted by highwaymen shortly thereafter and sold into brothel servitude. Her threats to bite off her tongue and bleed to death at the first evidence of a customer's lewd intentions, however, discourage most patrons. In the interim, Ihei marries for money the ugly but kind-hearted village girl 0-Sawa. The moment lhei rediscovers 0-Hana's whereabouts, though, his passion flares up once more. 0-Sawa's pleas and protests earn her only redoubled brutality from Ihei; in despair over losing his affection, she drowns herself. Through each subsequent chapter, the parties who

50

Literary Beginnings

abetted Ihei's infidelity meet successively weirder and more gruesome ends; each ghastly scene bears the telltale signs of 0-Sawa's supernatural malice. The most terrible end 0-Sawa reserves for her betrayer: Ihei lops off his own ear in a futile contest with the demon, and melts, still living, into a sack of gangrenous pus, devoured by rats. 0-Hana, oddly, remains untouched by the nemesis; her prayers as a nun finally exorcise the fiend. 0-Hana and 0-Sawa both suffer from Ihei's wandering affections and callousness, but only 0-Hana follows the role of patience and passivity commonly allotted to Tanehikds heroines. 0-Sawa's transformation, from a pitiful victim to a serpentine monster, is the incongruous result of forcing a folklore narrative into the established yomihon model. These four early yomihon share many of the hallmarks of the later yomihon, indeed prefigure the most significant characteristics of Tanehiko's mature gokan style. Not surprisingly, the early yomihon works demonstrate the author's keen interest in classics of the literary canon. The setting of Asamagatake depends upon a reference to the Man'yoshu, cited in the text, while the title of the work, equally, derives from this earliest anthology of native verse. Explicit allusions to prose classics are not uncommon: Tanehiko invokes Sei Shonagon's Makura no soshi when he likens 0-Sawa's homeliness in Shimoyo no hoshi to the depressing wintry moon, or when he speaks in Asamagatake of crows flying off "in twos and fours and threes." The ill-fated sea journey to Shikoku in Shimoyo no hoshi and the ensuing battle with marauding pirates repeatedly borrow phrases from Kino Tsurayuki's Tosa nikki, while the curiously vestigial dream voyage to China at the conclusion to Oshu shujaku incorporates wholesale large segments of the no drama Shakkyo (The stone bridge). 39 The original title for his yomihon, Yttkko no Koman monogatari (Tale of Koman the "tough," 1807), the author informs the reader in its preface, had been Shin Torikaebaya monogatari (A new Torikaebaya monogatari )-a tribute to its late Heian predecessor which, equally, had centered around its protagonists' exchange of gender roles. (It was only at the urging of an anxious publisher, Tanehiko continues, that he attached a more conventional title to the work.) 40 In addition to explicit classical allusion, usually intrusive identified quotations, Tanehiko occasionally illustrates his literary erudition more subtly, through a literary echo rather than a direct citation. O~umi's

Literary Beginnings

51

use of caged fireflies to discover the face of her rescuer in the Tosa brothel scene strongly suggests the "Hotaru" chapter of Genji, in which Genji resorts to a similar expedient to show off Tamakazura's features to his brother, her suitor. A kitten's toying with the string of a book cart leads Ihei to adultery with 0-Hana in Shimoyo no hoshi, in what must be a conscious reflection of the means by which Kashiwagi first conceives his disastrous passion for the Third Princess in the first ''Wakana'' chapter. Genji, if we may believe the author's editorial intrusion, also provided the inspiration for the introduction of chronologically displaced "flashback" episodes in Oshu shujaku monogatari, a technique at variance with the strict lineal progression of events his readers anticipated. 41 The influence of Tanehikds mentor, Masamochi, is most pronounced in the diction of the early yomihon, which tends by preference to gabun or "elegant" vocabulary of purely native origins, and grammar close in adherence to Heian usage. Though not as deliberately archaic in his choice of terms as Takebe Ayatari (1719-1774), who supplied glosses to his own texts as an aid to readers less astute, Tanehiko occasionally embellishes his texts with unusual poetic archaisms like tarachime for "mother," kazoiro for "parents," or kamitsueda for "elder brother."42 In sharp contrast to the earliest yomihon of the eighteenth century, and equally at variance with the example of Bakin in the decades to follow, Tanehikds early yomihon display little facility with Chinese literature or allusions. A work like Asamagatake may feature a citation from Mencius, or a line of verse by Ts'en Shen (715-770), but these and other allusions to Chinese sources have little of the depth or resonance of native allusions. They seem more the result of dutifully perusing reference manuals and epitomes than the gleanings of extensive reading. 43 Among Chinese sources, informal miscellanies or volumes of curiosa appeal most strongly to Tanehikds tastes. Shimoyo no hoshi relies on the T'ang miscellany Yu-yang tsa-tsu for information about the supernatural powers of foxes, while Asamagatake insists on the value of mirrors to reveal the true appearance of transformed sorcerers by citing compendia of the supernatural like Sou shen chi and Pao p'u tzu. 44 The beginnings or conclusions of episodes do feature on occasion narrative formulae imitated from Chinese vernacular fiction. Allusions to the substance of

52

Literary Beginnings

Chinese vernacular or classical fiction, however, whether in overall conception or in individual episodes, seem entirely absent-an indifference or rejection of Chinese sources startling among contemporary yomihon. Nor does Tanehiko seem at home with heavily Sinified orthography and diction, in which Bakin later excelled. Occasionally, as in the initial pages of Moji-tezuri mukashi ningyo (Gauze proscenium-veil puppets of yore, 1813), the author attempts the "grand style": The text reverberates with stentorian compounds and measures out the stately cadences of parallel construction. This and other descriptive passages in Sinified kanbun-cho (Chinese text style) are brief and exceptional, and it is clear Tanehiko was not at ease with the high-flown manner. Despite his passionate attachment to the history of material or popular culture, curiously, the author evinces virtually no interest in conventional history throughout his early yomihon. The fourteenth-century time frame of Awano naruto, Asamagatake, and Oshu shujaku monogatari is entirely irrelevant; the turmoil of the civil wars and its heroics are remote. Far from attempting an accurate historical reconstruction of medieval times, the author admits, even revels in the introduction of anachronisms like tobacco, the tea ceremony, the shamisen. The final postscript to Oshu shujaku in fact highlights the discrepancies: These works of mine are set in the Eiwa and Eitoku year-periods [1375-1384]; what, then, are ynkun (courtesans) doing in their pages? Trivial books like these do not concern themselves with such questions. The illustrations are by and large in modern style, while the text is in the style of the middle ages [naka-mukasht], and I have included allusions to oborozome (misty dyeing), hyakuiro-zome (hundred-blossom dyeing), kurobeni no kaimusubi (black and scarlet shell-knotting of the obi), and the like. It is common knowledge that the tea ceremony originated with Lord Higashiyama [Ashikaga Yoshimasa, r. 1449-1474], and that the shamisen became widespread only in the Eiroku year-period [1558-1570]. My use of these two in an Eiwa period [1375-1379] story is an instance of"mad words and flowery language," for which license I crave my readers' kind indulgence. 45

Equally, there is little attempt to introduce personages of historical significance into the yomihon, or to detail the impact of events of epochal importance on the lives of the characters. The enormous contemporary success of Bakin's Chinsetsu yumihari zuki (Wondrous ac-

Literary Beginnings

53

count of the crescent moon, 1807-1811), a highly imaginative reconstruction of the "lost years" of Minamoto no Tametomo {1139-1170?), vividly demonstrated the receptivity of the reading public for historical or quasi-historical romance, but Tanehiko evidently found the chronicle format and panoramic sweep uncongenial. His closest approximation to historical fiction may be the first chapter of Moji-tezuri mukashi ningyo, whose setting is the abortive revolt led by Prince Mochihito {1151-1180) against the Taira. Rather than depict directly the battles in Uji and the Byodoin, however, the author conveys reports of the conflict by messenger to the wife of one of the combatants. Shortly after the battle scene, the yomihon reverts to the more familiar realms of domestic intrigue and vendetta, far from the general upheavals of the Genpei War. The author's apparent indifference to the grand flow of history contrasts profoundly with his enthusiasm for the minutiae of material culture. Just as Tsuga Teisho {1718-ca. 1794) and Itami Chin'en (fl. 1780) advanced their yomihon as an exposition of Sinological theses, as Akinari and Masamochi used their yomihon as a forum for their Kokugaku contentions, so Tanehiko through his yomihon demonstrated the breadth of his readings and fruits of his research into early modern culture. Certain episodes of the yomihon , in fact, exist solely to permit a bravura display of erudition. To label these passages as gratuitous, however, is to misunderstand a major impetus in Tanehiko's creativity. A description of prostitutes' lives and adornment in Awa no naruto, the precision of nautical terminology during O:Yumi's voyage to Awa, a listing of attractions at a kaicho temple fair in Shimoyo no hoshi , the street vendors' cries listed in Oshu shujaku-all derive from the author's passion for enumerating antique artifacts. 46 At times this miniaturist's perspective entirely displaces the narrative flow. When a minor character of Shimoyo no hoshi visits the late-seventeenth-century Yoshiwara pleasure quarter, action grinds to a halt for several pages as Tanehiko provides a catalog of famous courtesans, their attire and hair ornaments, the eccentric dress of their clientele, the behavior of strolling entertainers, merchants and their wares, and so forth. A mention of the historical tayu or "grand courtesan'' Tsushima provokes a ponderous digression on the three successive courtesans who bore this same professional name. 47

54

Literary Beginnings

Though nominally medieval, the world of Awano naruto or Asamagatake is essentially Tanehikds beloved Genroku period, the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Through the streets prowl machi-yakko or "townsman toughs," ready to duel at the slightest provocation, while a character in Osha shujaku affects a "roppo swagger," as though a member of the notorious urban gangs of the seventeenth century. Major and even minor cities boast highly structured hierarchical centers of prostitution, in which tayu grand courtesans command the adulation of all who behold them. Secure but for the wiles of corrupt officers or ronin masterless samurai, the society of the yomihon reflects the stability and optimism of Genroku times, not the precarious, troubled centuries preceding Tokugawa rule. Tanehiko's lifelong interest in popular performing arts-song, narrative, dance, and drama-emerges repeatedly throughout his yomihon. The preface to Asamagatake reproduces-for no very cogent reason-a selection of rustic rice-planting songs from the provinces. Urban song forms-the kouta, the imayo, the plaintive nagebushi lyric of the Genroku pleasure quarters-occur frequently throughout the text as erudite embellishments. 48 The yomihon introduce a device Tanehiko was to exploit extensively in his later gokan: the use of narrative to explain the setting or circumstances behind a cryptic authentic song lyric. An odd kouta ballad in dialect, Tanehiko explains, actually refers to the behavior of Dan no Issai's daughters in mourning for their murdered parent. An obscure ballad in the Matsunoha (Pine needles, 1703) anthology of Genroku lyrics supplies the name of the protagonist of Moji-tezuri, Kichisa, and actually refers to his poverty and disgrace after suffering untoward slanders. 49 The yomihon serves, in the end, as an elaborate commentary on the enigmatic song. Popular narrative, whether rustic or transplanted to an urban setting, is no less a source of fascination. The early yomihon abound in local legends of the miraculous or simply curious-episodes probably culled from travelers' accounts, provincial gazetteers, or rural informants. The verbal mannerisms of the storyteller occur repeatedly in Awa no naruto, while the long central account of Ihei and 0-Sawa that is the heart of Shimoyo no hoshi is in fact the narrative of an eloquent ronin, long after

Literary Beginnings

55

the actual occurrence. Moji-tezuri reproduces the fulminating idiom of the street preacher, as the moody Kichisa casts a pall over the conviviality in a brothel by his ominous illustrated lecture on the torments of hell. Yadokari's public account of Oshu's murder in Oshu shujaku, sung and chanted to the accompaniment of shamisen and bamboo castanets, is a painstaking reconstruction of the art of the Genroku uta-zaimon street balladeer, whose stock in trade was the latest scandal or sensational love suicide. 50 Popular dance and drama figure occasionally in the early yomihon: The author lovingly catalogs the songs and strolling performers of the old Yoshiwara in Shimoyo no hoshi; in Oshu shujaku monogatari, Yadokari performs a "lion dance" as the means to approach and exact final vengeance from the murderer of her foster father. More insistent is the author's preoccupation with the early history of the institutionalized puppet-joruri and kabuki theaters. Awa no naruto, at least partially based on the 1768 puppet-play sensation Keisei Awa no naruto (A courtesan's ballad of the crashing straits of Awa), opens with a preface extolling the achievements of Ono no O:fsu, the legendary inventor of joruri narration. Jirokuro, O¥umi's retarded but virtuous brother in the work, attempts to raise money for his invalid mother as an itinerant puppeteer; Tanehiko describes his performances and repertory with care. 51 Most elaborate among the tributes to early joruri production is the preface to Moji-tezuri mukashi ningyo, which explains with copious citations how, until the Genroku period, the ledge (tesuri or tezuri) over which the puppeteer operated his figures was covered by a diaphanous band of gauze (moji), to allow a veiled glimpse of the actions of the operator-in contrast to an earlier policy of complete concealment and the later, still-current practice of complete disclosure. The title and learned digression are in fact irrelevant to the plot but set the tone for the work that follows, its "domestic" elements heavily indebted to Chikamatsu's Yodogoi shusse no takinobori (Yodo carp's leaping rise in the world, 1708).52 Tanehiko makes no secret of his indebtedness to puppet-joruri as a fertile source of inspiration: Both Asamagatake and Oshu openly announce that the author has relied upon existing joruri plays in their composition. My version of Keisei Awano naruto, Tanehiko proclaims

56

Literary Beginnings

in the preface to Awa no naruto, differs from the puppet version, for my Jilrobei is thoroughly villainous, and not, as in the play, villainous for virtuous ends. Elements of the puppet play, however, appear prominently in the fifth chapter, in which O.:Yumi encounters and unwittingly suffocates her pilgrim daughter, O.Tsuru. The poignant detail of the rhythmic description, the tear-drenched heavily ironic dialogue in which mother and daughter long antiphonally for the individual who is, in fact, before them, and the jerky, puppet-like motions of O.:Yumi as she tries to wrest a money-pouch from the sleeping child's neck-all evoke the convoluted melodrama of the eighteenth-century puppet stage. Tanehiko's particular reverence for the works of Chikamatsu-a salient characteristic of his later gokan production -appears especially in his final, more explicitly theatrical yomihon. In Seta no hashi Ryunyo no honji (True manifestation of the Dragon Maiden at Seta Bridge, 1813), a work set against a bac~drop of Taira no Masakadds ( ? -940) rebellion, the author freely admits his conceptual debt to the works of the great playwright. "This work is entirely based on precedents from the works of Heiando [Chikamatsu]," the preface declares, "and so I have included here and there popular words or phrases from his day, like tatekakenonko (a man's hair style), kamome-zuto (a women's hair style), numeriaruku (to gad about), and so on."53 Similarly, the preface to Moji-tezuri announces the author's dependence on Chikamatsu in constructing his plot: "Since I have a passion for the joruri texts of Heiando [Chikamatsu], I have borrowed a character name her~, stolen a plot device there, and so have constructed a novel. There is not a single shred of fact in the work."54 An interest in the early phases of kabuki, equally, leaves a comparable mark on the author's yomihon. The go-between for 0-Hana and Ihei in Shimoyo no hoshi becomes the zagashira or chief performer of a troupe of traveling players, in a tribute to the unsettled early days of the art. 55 The play Keisei Asamagatake (Courtesan's Mt. Asama, 1698), one of the outstanding early successes of the Genroku kabuki stage and the inspiration to a long line of derivative productions, provides the names of characters and the basis for the ghostly apparition of the courtesan Oshu in the Asamagatake-Oshu shujaku sequence. Though difficult to

Literary Beginnings

57

correlate with any specific kabuki play, the memorable scene of Asamagatake in which the imperious Nadeshiko taunts and disgraces her junior rival Hototogisu, for her lack of artistic .accomplishments and noble lineage must owe much to the protracted cruelty of the semeba (persecution scenes) increasingly popular on the contemporary stage. 56 Tanehiko's fascination with the performing arts extended beyond incidental allusions or the reproduction of celebrated individual scenes to the imposition of formal dramatic structures on entire works. The author's postscript to Asamagatake contains a brief synopsis of the highlights from the sequel Oshu shujaku monogatari, still in preparation. Tanehiko then expounds the relationship between the current work and its projected continuation in purely theatrical terms: All these elements I have based on Tomimoto- and Tokiwazu-style joruri texts. If one were to compare these works to a kabuki play, then this first installment [that is, Asamagatake omokage-zoshz] would correspond to the portions from the "curtain raiser" [taijo] through the "first piece'' [daiichiban-me, historical episode] to the "grand conclusion" [ozume, the scene before the main intermission], while the latter installment [Oshu shujaku monogatan] would correspond to the "second piece" [dainiban-me, domestic and romantic episode] from its first act through the "grand finale" [ogin]Y

The analogy between the two works and the standard thematic development of a kabuki program seems here more on the order of a novel afterthought than the revelation of an original architectural purpose in his composition. Nonetheless, the adaptation of dramatic structure to literary composition, here expressly articulated for the first time, is an idea that exercised much fascination on Tanehiko throughout his lifetime, and impelled him especially in his younger years to frequent experimentation. One of the most daring, though not one of the most successful of these synthetic experiments, was the 1813 yomihon, Seta no hashi Ryunyo no honji. Unlike Asamagatake and Oshu shujaku monogatari, whose affinities to dramatic structure were probably realized in retrospect after completion, Tanehiko was determined from the very outset to make Seta no hashi something exceptional. After alluding in the Japaneselanguage preface to the sights of Lake Biwa and to the legend of Murasaki Shikibu's inspiration for Genji during a retreat to Ishiyama Temple, Tanehiko continues:

58

Literary Beginnings ... But rather than imitate Murasaki Shikibu's writing, I have based my composition on the joruri plays that, in more recent times, Heiando Chikamatsu Monzaemon wrote for [Takemoto] Gidayu to recite, and for puppets to enact. These elements I have combined with the now-popular novel [shosetsu; furigana gloss: yomihon], and have given it a new name of yomihon-joruri. This book differs from the usual yomihon, but, since I have not assigned any definite meter to the text, neither is it identical to a joruri text. It is a book in a consistent single style midway between these two. But alas, what can I be expected to achieve with my limited ingenuity? If one tries to read the resulting text, the prose is crude and clumsy, and if one tries to recite it, the words will not flow smoothly. I must ask for my readers' indulgence. 58

The idea of a work half yomihon and half joruri was not new with Tanehiko: Shikitei Sanba had attempted a similar fusion three years before, while still earlier, in 1800, Bakin had published a self-styled yomihon-joruri, designed to resemble a joruri text in its illustrations and its peculiar, bloated calligraphic style. 59 Tanehiko's attempts to fuse theatrical and yomihon expression, however, were more thoroughgoing and academic- hence ultimately less apt to please than the creations of Sanba or Bakin. Instead of the elaborate synoptic "tags" that had served as chapter headings in his earlier, more conventional yomihon, in Seta no hashi Tanehiko uses the segmental divisions of a joruri text: The work begins with a taijo "preface," and moves through three distinct dan (acts). Throughout the text, there are occasional vocal markings and chanter directions, identical to those found in joruri texts, for example, sanju (triple), oroshi (cadence), or uta (singing). At the end of a scene in "act twcl' appear the stage directions hyoshi maku (strike clappers; curtain). An afterword. by Tanehiko urges the public to insert further cantillation and metrical markings into the text. 60 The layout of the text is not without its idiosyncrasies. In certain segments, notably the second "act," narrative yields to solid blocks of dialogue, and the speakers are identified only by symbolic circles and polygons. Tanehiko apparently insisted on certain orthographic peculiarities, too, since an afterword by the publisher, Nishimuraya, solicits readers' understanding for the author's (presumably unconventional) use of kana syllabary and Chinese characters, both "correct" and "vulgar."61 The success of the experimental Seta no hashi, as indeed all the Tane-

Literary Beginnings

59

hiko yomihon, is difficult to determine. Asamagatake and its sequel, Oshu shujaku, were probably the most successful of the titles: Several editions, and later adaptations as serial gokan or as a kabuki stage play (the latter a transformation less common than one might imagine), attest to an enduring appeal. Shimoyo no hoshi, also reprinted, was perhaps most influential as one of the formative elements in the fourth Tsuruya Nanboku's (1755-1829) macabre kabuki sensation, Tokaido Yotsuya kaidan (Ghost tale of Yotsuya on the Tokaido Road, 1825).62 By 1813, at the conclusion of his yomihon series, Tanehikds stylistic and compositional talents had matured to the point of winning guarded praise from a reluctant Bakin. After a critique of objectionable aspects of Moji-tezuri mukashi ningyo, Bakin concedes: Be that as it may, when one examines the entire work, hottan (origin) segment and all, it is plain that it was composed with much devoted effort. I did not imagine earlier that this author ever would come this far, but succeed he has, and beyond my expectations. When one compares it to his work Awa no naruto-I believe that was its name-of several years ago, the two seem like works of entirely different individuals. 63

For all these encouraging early indications, Tanehikds interest in the yomihon-as indeed public enthusiasm for yomihon in general-was on the wane by 1813. Far more closely matched to his tastes and talents was the novel gokan format, a brash literary upstart in rapid ascendancy.

THREE

Gokan and Renown

By one estimate, more than eight of every ten titles from Tanehiko's brush were in the format known as gokan. 1 At the height of his literary career, Tanehiko's reputation was overwhelmingly the result of the popularity his gokan works enjoyed. The modern literary history that typically allots one sentence to lnaka Genji and its author is as likely as not to designate Tanehiko as the representative author of gokan. This indissoluble association between the author and the literary domain he ruled as virtual hegemon in the 1820s and 1830s compels an examination of the gokan as it developed in Tanehiko's lifetime, and a consideration of its primary attractions for the young author. Although relatively little studied, it is no exaggeration to say that the gokan was, quantitatively, the preeminent vehicle of Japanese fiction throughout the nineteenth century; virtually all authors of fiction before 1875 made it their side work or lifework. Precise statistics are wanting, but from 1807 until 1867, some 2,900 units appeared before the public-an average of 40 to 50 new titles a year. To this figure must be added several hundred titles from the Meiji period.2 Alone among the categories of Edo fiction, the gokan maintained vitality throughout the unstable bakumatsu period and after the Meiji Restoration-indeed, enjoyed a brief renaissance in the 1870s and 1880s. Long dismissed in literary histories with a few patronizing or apologetic remarks, the gokan is deserving of a better representation than it has received. Historically, the gokan is the final and most elaborate phase of the cat-

62

Gokan and Renown

egory of works termed kusazoshi, literally "grass books" -a probable reference to their ephemeral or trivial character in the sophisticated eye. This latter term comprehends a wide variety of publications, from artless picture pamphlets for the subliterate to highly sophisticated protracted serial productions like Inaka Genji. Certain traits, however, remain common to all kusazoshi throughout two centuries of evolution. Despite variations, all kusazoshi use smaller sizes of paper, possibly to ease handling and long-distance colportage. Secondly, the kusazoshi contains a large black and white illustration straddling both faces of every opening. The earliest examples in fact consist of little more than a series of pictures. Even after the text had grown to assume a significant role, the illustrations retained a critical importance in publication. A third distinctive feature of kusazoshi is the comparative simplicity of the text. The syntax and orthography are relatively easy, and the kana syllabaries dominate the orthography. (The first chapter of lnaka Genji, for example, uses 26 Chinese characters, of which only 4 would not be familiar to any modern Japanese second-grader. Paradoxically, the dependence on cursive and variant kana symbols makes the works inordinately difficult for the modern reader, weaned to print: By 1922, even an upper school graduate struggled to decipher the simple syllabic script.3 ) The kana text runs, like long, trailing tendrils of wisteria, in close ranks alongside and around the figures of the illustrations. Finally, the several types of kusazoshi are overwhelmingly products of Edo. Even in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, when the infant publishing industry of the shogunal capital was still under the domination of established parent firms in Kyoto and Osaka, the kusazoshi was a distinctively Edoite form of literary activity (one of the few such). Kimura Mokur6 did compile a listing of Western authors of kusazoshi, but even he was forced to concede in a work of 1849 that Kyoto and Osaka were "as good as nonexistent" when it came to the composition of kusazoshi. 4 While the term itself is attested as early as 1647, it is only after the middle of the seventeenth century that kusazoshi in the conventional sense of popular illustrated books of fiction make their appearance. 5 By about 1690, many of these picture books for children appeared in distinctive flexible paper covers: The Kozei-bon (Kozei books) were mar-

Gokan and Renown

63

keted in a tough stock used mostly for calligraphy, while the akahon (red books) boasted bright vermilion covers. The akahon of the early eighteenth century were crude affairs, devoid of sophistication. Animal fables and nursery tales dominated the texts-themselves frequently little more than a set of terse captions to primitive illustrations. By the 1740s, the kusazoshi had entered the second of the four primary stages in its evolution. 6 The aobon (green-covered books) and kurohon (black-covered books) were, like the akahon, primarily picture booklets. The infantile themes of the akahon, however, yield~d to the more somber themes of murder, ghosts, and vendettas; theatrical subjects became common. The illustrations remained for the most part undistinguished, but were increasingly the product of recognized artists in the Torii school. The extreme brevity of the aobon and kurohonhardly more than pamphlets-precluded literary elaboration. Still, the longer texts in these works display advances in style and sophistication over the akahon. Clearly the texts are intended for adolescents and some adults, not children alone. In many akahon, even the artist's name is unspecified; for many aobon, by contrast, we know the names of the author and the artist. (Anonymous kusazoshi, however, remain common until the late 1780s.) In 1775, Koikawa Harumachi published his Kinkin sensei eiga no yume (Master Kinkin's dream of splendor). This retelling of the old Hantan pillow legend marked a radical departure from the norms of earlier kusazoshi: The dark themes of heroic vengeance and supernatural persecution were replaced by an effervescent and urbane narrative, intended from the first as a fairy tale for grownups. The popularity of Kinkin sensei inaugurated a whole new era of kusazoshi by and for adults, known to us as kibyoshi (yellow-covered books). The kibyoshi, at their zenith in the 1780s, typically contained gentle raillery against the absurdities and weaknesses of contemporary society; later kibyoshi sometimes hazarded a mild form of political satire, although the intensity of this satire has been much exaggerated by latter-day interpreters. In almost every case, the kibyoshi retains some elements of its childish storybook origins, and creative fantasy rather than dour political allegory is the dominant channel of appeal. Although the kibyoshi is by far and away the most attractive phase of

64

Gokan and Renown

kusazoshi for the modern reader, its sparkle and levity were, in the larger perspective, aberrations in the development of kusazoshi. Writers of the early nineteenth century dwell, always with an air of disapproval, on the abrupt transition from moralizing akahon and aobon to slick and supercilious kibyoshi. The harmless playthings of a bygone day now catered to the jaded palates of wastrels and undesirables-rather as if Saturday morning children's television cartoons had become, overnight, showcases of "adult themes." The language of kibyoshi was no longer simple and unassuming: What was formerly the plaything of children is now incomprehensible to boys and girls. Adults unversed in Japanese and Chinese classics-and even those who are educated but find themselves out of step with the fashion of the moment-now find such works impossible to decipher. 7

Another writer comments that kusazoshi have become so infused with the special jargon of the Yoshiwara, so permeated with inside references intelligible only to a tiny coterie of Edo cognoscenti that the average provincial who receives the book as a souvenir requires the services of an interpreter to appreciate it. 8 By the end of the eighteenth century, a significant number of kibyoshi featured vendetta themes. The conventional explanation for this move away from the wit and ebullience of the early kibyoshi is that the Kansei Reform of the 1790s and the concomitant persecution of Kyoden, Harumachi, and Hoseido Kisanji (1735-1813) forced gesaku authors to reconsider their works, and to select sober, morally unexceptional topics. In fact, the trend toward vendetta themes antedates by many years the beginning of the Kansei period: The first kibyoshi signed ''Kyoden," in 1780, for example, had been an entirely humorless production, relentlessly serious in its descriptions of the victims' tribulations and ultimate revenge. 9 Rather than view the emergence of the vendetta theme as a new development peculiar to the 1780s, it is more reasonable to depict this "darkening'' of kibyoshi as a simple recrudescence of theatrical, vindictive aobon themes in kusazoshi after a temporary abdication to humor and whimsy. Akahon were generally 1, sometimes 2, fascicles long; aobon or kurohon typically 2 or 3. Kibyoshi generally extended to 15 pages, their text

Gokan and Renown

65

in 3 separate fascicles of 5 pages apiece; the longest examples, as a rule, were originally no longer than 5 fascicles, or 25 pages. As the vendetta theme increased in popularity, however, this limited canvas proved increasingly inadequate to handle the scope of complex narratives; a larger unit of composition and publication seemed inevitable. In the spring of 1806, Shikitei Sanba published a remarkable new work, [Asakusa Kannon riyaku no adaucht] Ikazuchi Taro goakumonogatari (Vengeance by the wonder-working efficacy of the Asakusa Kannon: The tale of "Thunder" Taro the highwayman). Though himself a resolute opponent to the swelling tides of ghastliness and somber purpose in kusazoshi, Sanba reluctantly capitulated to the force majeure of public fancy. In its subject matter, the work is unremarkable: Raitar6, spurned in his suit for the hand of a neighbor girl, embarks on a terrible career of delinquency, vandalism, and ever more serious crime. After years of villainy and mayhem in the company of assorted colorful reprobates throughout the land, his misdeeds catch up with him in a dramatic scene of vengeful butchery at Oiso, where Kannon has directed his pursuers. More significant than the content are the formal characteristics of the publication: Ikazuchi Taro appeared in 10 5-page fascicles, its bulk twice that of even the longer kibyoshi. Moreover, the 10 fascicles of th~ work were not discrete but joined at their covers into two sizable, bulky volumes, each of 5 fascicles. This, in Sanba's own estimate, was the beginning of the gokan ~ ~ "union volume" or "combined volume" format. An excerpt from his diary and miscellany, Shikitei zakki (Shikitei's commonplace book, 1810-1811), has launched nearly every discussion on the origins of the format: Akahon [kibyoshz] consisted of 2 or 3 fascicles, each fascicle 5 pages long. After the early years of the Bunka period [1804-1818], however, vendetta themes increased in popularity. My friend Nansensho Somabito (resident of Hamamatsu-cho, Shiba; a woodblock carver by trade, took the name Senboku) won great success with his vendetta pieces. At the time, he wrote works in 5 or 6 fascicles, and divided his fascicles into ''Part f' and ''Part II" for sales purposes. I personally dislike vendetta books, but I acquiesced to the urgings of [my publisher] Nishimiya (Nishimiya Shinroku, lives in Honzaimokucho, 1-chome) and composed my first vendetta e-zoshi picture book. With this

66

Gokan and Renown I initiated the so-called e-zoshi gokan. (Gokan means selling a 5-fascicle work bound as a single volume. And so I am the originator of the gokan; it was my idea; and the firm where it got its start was Nishimiya's.) My work Ikazuchi Taro goaku monogatari (10 fascicles), on sale in the spring of 1806, was sold as 2 gokan volumes, ''Part f' and ''Part II." I had a stroke of good luck with it, and it was extremely popular. The gokan format does not demand a great many covers and title labels, and its manufacture is convenient. The following year and afterward, all soshi wholesalers without exception turned to gokan. Gokan are still popular now, in 1810. I may sound like the sumo wrestler who does nothing but boast of his own victories, but I consider the fact that I popularized the gokan e-zoshi to be the crowning glory of my life; the memory of it will be my solace in old age. 10

Sanba's claims to have been the pioneer of the gokan are not entirely justified. From an early date, investigators have proposed now one, now another earlier work as a truer contender for the title ·of "first gokan." In the title labels of certain late kibyoshi, moreover, bibliographers have discovered the designations gabon, gokan, or gosatsu/gassatsu, all implying some binding unit larger than the individual satsu fascicle. 11 In all likelihood, the designations gokan or gosatsu had a limited currency in publishing jargon already by 1800, while Sanba's work merely popularized the term and concept on the open market. Sanba's claim that "all soshi wholesalers without exception turned to gokan" in 1807 is largely true, although the transition was far from instantaneous. In 1807, kusazoshi publishers issued 55 titles, of which 36 (65 percent) were in discrete kibyoshi format, and 19 (35 percent) in the unified gokan binding; of 82 titles in 1808, 38 (46 percent) were in separate fascicles and 44 (54 percent) were gokan. By 1811, the year Tanehiko published his first specimen, only 11 percent of new titles were in the old style. Works often appeared in the two variant styles simultaneously-indeed, Ikazuchi Taro itself is known as a kibyoshi as well as a gokan. In a work of 1811, Kyozan records the triumph of the gokan: Now children associate only gokan with the term kusazoshiY The two terms remained interchangeable throughout the Meiji era. By 1818, the kibyoshi format was virtually extinct, although there are sporadic examples until1828. During the first decade of its evolution, the gokan rapidly developed

Gokan and Renown

67

most of the physical characteristics that distinguished it during the seventy-five years of its literary prominence. Length, a variable in kibyoshi, was standardized at 6 fascicles, that is, 30 double pages, often in 2 volumes of 15 pages apiece. Elaborate frontispieces-striking dramatic depictions of the principal characters in the text, often accompanied by a short caption or editorial comment-won immediate popularity after their debut in 1807. These frontispieces, almost certainly an emulation of the Chinese-inspired frontispieces of yomihon volumes, eventually claimed the first five pages of every title. 13 Higher-quality paper replaced the coarse pulp of earlier kusazoshi, and enhanced the crispness of text and illustrations. lllustrated covers, originally a cheap substitute for the fancy title labels of kibyoshi, more than any other feature served as the hallmark of the gokan. By the mid-nineteenth century, cover illustrations featured up to a dozen colors, and sometimes boasted gold flakes or mica as well. 14 Predictably, the themes of injustice and thundering revenge dominated the earliest years of gokan production. A phenomenal49 (60 percent) of the 82 gokan works published in 1808 contain the words katakiuchi or adauchi (vendetta) in their titles. The structure of these tales was largely similar, despite variations in the particulars: an initial murder, the subsequent abasement of the righteous and temporary exaltation of the villainous, and a final scene of vengeance, often abetted by ghosts or divine agency. The tribulations of the virtuous and the inhuman viciousness of the criminal perpetrators were central concerns. Raitaro, a monster of depravity, is the true focus of attention in Ikazuchi Taro; his righteous pursuers, by contrast, have little if any profile, and the final scenes of capture and vengeance on the beach at Oiso strike the modern reader almost as afterthoughts on Sanba's part. As may be imagined, sensational cruelty and violence animated many of these vendetta pieces. Ikazuchi Taro contains at least twelve gruesome murders, and Toyokuni's illustrations of rape, torture, and execution leave little to the imagination. In a communique of November 1808, the publisher Tsutaya Juzaburo/Koshodo advised Bakin against including in his gokan (among other topics) cremations, drowned corpses, female and child brigands, the spontaneous combustion of adulterers, and the rolling about of lopped heads. 15 The grisly and unwholesome scenes common to early gokan may be inferred from these guidelines.

68

Gokan and Renown

By 1810 or 1811, public enthusiasm for vengeance works and the g/5kan had begun to wane. In an effort to bolster sales and renew the novelty of the format, publishers resorted to printing games on the covers or creating illustrations whose aspect would alter upon folding the page. The gokan more than recouped its popularity, however, when publishers and authors introduced distinctive elements from the kabuki stage into their productions. Theatricality, of course, was no novelty in kusazoshi: The aobon and kurohon frequently adapted stories from the stage, and late kibyoshi borrowed themes liberally from kabuki and joruri performances. The prominent visual component of kusazoshi made the booklets an ideal vehicle for arresting, spectacular scenes. The alliance between the stage and g/5kan, however, was particularly intimate, and continued to remain close throughout the nineteenth century. External features proclaimed the new affinity of kabuki and kusaz/5shi: Titles blossomed into the colorful and eminently untranslatable idiom of the marquee, bristling with wordplay and cryptic orthography. By 1810-1811, the physiognomies of celebrated contemporary actors were used for the faces of protagonists in the works: The bland, soulless features of early gokan illustration retreated before an alarming succession of nigao, caricature "likenesses," with cross-eyes and popeyes, protuberant aquiline noses, and lunatic grins. 16 Not only did actors appear in the illustrations, they also figured on the covers as authors. Works attributed to stage stars (the majority, of course, ghostwritten) made their debut about 1811. Already, in 1807, Kyoden, Kyozan, Kannatei Onitake, Sanba, Ikku, even reluctant Bakin had gauged the changing tides .of fashion, and begun producing gokan. Tanehiko lagged behind. A disinclination to dilute his efforts as an author of yomihon; a distaste for the lugubrious tenor of most early gokan; or an innate cautiousness may account for this hesitancy. The "theatrical" gokan of the 1810s, less sanguinary than their predecessors and thematically far less inflexible, doubtless appealed to the young Tanehikds sensibilities; the switch in public mood may have encouraged him to try his hand at the new form, where earlier he had hesitated. His inaugural gokan of 1811, Suzuki-bochi5 Aoto no Kireaji (Sea-bass kitchen cleaver, sharpness of Aotds sword), contains only the

Gokan and Renown

69

slightest delineations of a vendetta theme; its primary interest lies in the reuniting of romantic couples after every conceivable vicissitude. Tanehiko's diary of February-May 1810 provides a detailed account of the day-to-day composition of this initial kusazoshi. Notable throughout the entries is the author's casual, almost offhand attitude toward the text, in sharp contrast to a meticulous concern for the artwork of the production. Suzuki-bocho first appears without any fanfare in the entry for Bunka 7:1:23/26 February 1810: Sunny, wind picking up. Visited [Nishihara] Shunko a while. O-Masa returns [from visit to mother's]. Mr. Ban[?] visits. While writing beginning of aobon, Master Gyokushi visits. At desk until 9 P.M. Gale-force winds at night.l 7

All in all an unremarkable sort of entry. Nishihara Shunko {17611844), a name frequent in the diaries, was a retainer to the Tachibana fief (Yanagawa) on duty in Edo, who shared Tanehiko's passion for Genroku memorabilia. 18 Gyokushi "Jade Boar" is another literary acquaintance, Hakuan Gyokushi, who contributed the turgid Chinese prefaces to Shimoyo no hoshi in 1807 and Seta no hashi in 1810. There is no record of reflection or special purpose as the author remarks on what in subsequent entries he indifferently denotes as an aobon or as a

kusazoshi. Work proceeds well on the new venture-especially well, it would seem, on the days when his wife is out of the house. By 7:2:2/6 March 1810, the ninth day of effort, Tanehiko already is planning the graphic components for the work: He delivers his own sketches for the frontispieces to the illustrator, Ransai Hokusi.i. Revision of the first chapter draft (the first of seven chapters) begins the .following evening. The fourth chapter takes only three days to complete, 7:2:6-8/10-12 March 1810. The fifth, interrupted by a long bout of illness, drags on until 7:3:6/9 April 1810. Meanwhile, the preface to the work, copied into the diary itself, assumes final shape 7:2:27/31 March 1810. A proofreader friend and the artist Hokusi.i submit proofs of the completed frontispiece prints for Tanehiko's approval on 7:2:29/2 April1810, just under a month after the author forwarded his conceptual sketches. The seventh chapter sees the light of day on 7:3:17/20 April 1810, but it is not until 3:19/22 April that the writer makes an end to it:

Gokan and Renown

70

At the [Yushima] Seido, met Mr. [Obayashi] Utaki. On way home, visited Hokusu; met Master [Umebori] Kokuga at Yamazaki's. Completed Aoto. On completing my aobon: Kusazoshi ware no medetaki shimai· kana

My storybooknow I, too, have finished "happily ever after!"1 9

The illustrations took much longer to execute: Hokusii's designs for chapter 5, for example, only arrived after lengthy delay on 7:4:27/29 May 1810 for the author's inspection. But the actual writing of Suzukibocho had been smooth and comparatively painless. The author's satisfaction in seven weeks' work well done is obvious in his commemorative senryu verse of bemused delight at crossing this bridge so easily. Encouraged by the rapid progress on his first gokan, Tanehiko begins drafting a second gokan title almost immediately, on 7:3:21/24 April 1810, and a third while still eagerly engaged on the second on 7:3:27/30 30 April 1810. 20 The intricate narrative of Suzuki-bocho must have been thought out well in advance of the actual writing. At the heart of the wor~ are two sets of characters, destined to separate and meet again only after many vicissitudes: Hatsuhana, who encounters her brother-in-law and paramour Yukijiro only after she has spent many years as a courtesan and he as a highwayman; and Katsuranojo, the son of their illicit alliance, who rejoins Sarashina and Koyuki, respectively the wife and concubine of his foundling brother, Ochibanosuke, after many sad obstacles. Adding to the confusion is a whole host of brigands, of whom two bear identical names; a series of jealous contenders for two embezzled treasures of the Hojo family, a sword and a mirror, that must be recovered; a heroic retainer to the Kamakura bakufu, Aoto Terutsuna (possibly modeled on the semi-legendary paragon of knightly virtue, Aoto Fujitsuna); and last but not least, a giant sea bass, from whose craw at the end of the tale are extracted the purloined treasure mirror of the Hojo and the religious image embraced by Sarashina when she attempts to fling herself into a watery grave. Even by the standards of contemporary gokan, the story is extraordinarily convoluted. Looking at the page after page of dense, cramped text, one has the impression that Tanehiko was

Gokan and Renown

71

not wholly at ease with the delimited gokan format, and created what in fact amounts to a highly compressed yomihon text. Why should Tanehiko have turned his energies to gokan at this point? The most obvious and persuasive reason is that gokan production was the fad of the hour;. even Bakin, swallowing his repugnance to the task, began producing gokan in quantities from 1807 onward. A better question, perhaps, is why Tanehiko postponed the composition of his first gokan work for so many years, when the brevity, theatricality, and thematic variety of the format were so well suited to his talents and temperament. In all likelihood the critical determining factor in the ·move from yomihon to early gokan was Tanehiko's association with the publisher of Suzuki-bocho, Nishimuraya Yohachi. The earliest positive diary reference to association with Nishimuraya, already cited, is in January 1810, when Tanehiko in the company of Hokusil pays a year-end visit. Nishimuraya, a seasoned entrepreneur with a :finely attuned sense of the marketplace, may have recognized the capacity and determination of the young man, and assessed, more astutely than Tanehiko himself, where the author's true talents lay. It was perhaps at this very January 1810 meeting that Tanehiko contracted to compose his first gokan-work that began to appear in concrete form by late February. The scenario is purely hypothetical, of course, but the positive guidance and encouragement offered by major Edo publishers of the day-by no means all philistines or single-minded votaries of the profit motive-should not be discounted. Negative factors, too, must have motivated the initial experiments in gokan. While Asamagatake had been successful enough to foster a sequel, other trial works, like Seta no hashi and Yamaarashi (The porcupine, 1808), his single attempt at the urbane comedy of the sharebon, had fallen short of that distinction despite their author's heartfelt ambitions. The standards of yomihon production, increasingly dominated by the examples of Kyokutei Bakin, may have been decreasingly congenial to Tanehiko's own literary philosophy. Kitamura Nobuyo relates the following comment at second-hand in an addendum to SaitO Gesshin's (1804-1878) Buko nenpyo (Chronicles of Edo; ms. 1849-1878):

72

Gokan and Renown Tanehiko said: "Ever since Bakin scored a hit with his ]unden sanezane no ki [Most true account of 0-Shun and Denbei, 1808), he has persisted in treating passion in a most unnatural, overrationalized manner [shikijo wo tsune ni girizume ni tsukureri]. Erotic passion has been termed by some a kind of madness; it is not at all [the way Bakin depicts it]."2 1

Like Kyoden, who gave up the writing of yomihon after his 1813 Sochoki (Paired butterflies), Tanehiko may have felt that the stature of Bakin in what had become almost a proprietary field of literary endeavor made competition futile. His spark of yomihon enthusiasm was not wholly extinguished after 1813: The preface to Tanehiko's Ukiyo Ikkyu kuruwa mondo (Ikkyu of the floating world, catechism of the pleasure quarter; 1822), agokan, relates how the author originally drew up plot outlines and devised ingenious twists for a production he hoped to develop into a yomihon, but which ultimately disintegrated into "the usual picture book."22 By all definitions, however, Moji-tezuri mukashi ningyo of 1813 was Tanehiko's final yomihon, and the sunny February afternoon he light-heartedly set about to compose Suzuki-bocho Aoto no kireaji was a firm watershed, unperceived at the time yet not for that the less epochal. There is no way to ascertain the impact of Suzuki-bocho; Ikari Akira judges it a success, while earlier sources argue the opposite. 23 Today it is among the rarer extant works, an observation that may imply a small original edition and/or a high rate of destruction. Its reception must have been in some measure encouraging, however, since Tanehiko pursued the composition of gokan with alacrity: From 1812 through 1814, 7 additional Ryutei gokan saw publication through the Eijudo. More successful by far and the cornerstone of the author's reputation was the gokan series Shohon1'itate (Stories in promptbook form, 18151831), an ambitious attempt to translate as accurately as possible the kabuki theatergoer's experience to a static framework o{text and illustration. This work catapulted Tanehiko into the first rank of contemporary writers, and ensured his name national prominence. For seventeen years until 1831, the irregular installments captivated a devoted readership, and were probably his most celebrated titles prior to the launching of Inaka Genji in 1829. The unusual title summoned forth a wealth of theatrical associations, since the term shohon (promptbook) in the course of its development

Gokan and Renown

73

had led a protean existenc~. 24 Its primary usage in the seventeenth century was to refer to the printed, commercially circulated "corrected text" of a complete joruri drama, its authenticity verified against the text used by the original chanter himself. Both illustrated versions for reading and versions for private recitation existed, the latter punctuated with rough markings for musical phrasing and cantillation. Shohon entered the kabuki vocabulary as well, though, in this context, it referred to the scripts of single acts in a proposed performance, composed by the house playwright and "corrected'' by the zamato impresario and zagashira senior troupe actor and dramaturge. These working scripts or promptbooks-which included sketchy musical and stage directions-were the jealous secret of every theater, and the object of constant vigilance, lest the content fall prey to theatrical espionage. Characteristically, a welter of superstitions and "auspicious precedents" governed every aspect of the promptbooks, from dimensions to style of calligraphy and cover inscriptions. Finally, informal shohon, containing a synopsis of a kabuki play, quotations of memorable lines, and occasionally illustrations, were in public circulation, and served as unofficial programs. These latter, public shohon were the commercial ventures of publishing houses, however, and had no direct affiliation with the playwrights or theaters. The marriage of script or synopsis and illustration was not in itself a novelty. Aside from illustrated puppet-joruri shohon, in the Genroku period some two hundred e-iri kyogen-bon (illustrated playbooks) saturated a voracious new market. These short booklets, typically 10 pages in length, contained the synopsis of a kabuki play and illustrations of actors in performance; at times these featured an appended critique of actors. 25 Nor was the conjunction of shohon style and gokan format unique to Tanehiko. Sanba in his memoranda notes carefully the success of his 1808 gokan, Futari kaburo tsui no adauchi (The two apprentice courtesans and their tandem vendetta). ''A work in 12 fascicles (illustrated, kana text)," he writes, "it was modeled on the shohon of olden days."26 (The artist involved in the production of Futari kaburo, incidentally, was the newcomer Kunisada.) Even though the fundamental conception behind Shohon-jitate was not entirely new, the vividness and deftness of the execution, in combination with the splendidly evocative illustrations by Kunisada, brought to full maturity an idea whose potential had lain dormant.

74

Gokan and Renown

The initiative for Shohon-jitate came not from Tanehiko, but from the publisher, Nishimuraya Yohachi. In or shortly before 1812, the Eijudo publishing house under Nishimuraya issued an unusual triptych print by the Wunderkind of the ukiyo-e world, Utagawa Kunisada. 27 Unlike the majority of theatrical prints, which depicted actors on stage or at least in roles and costume, this triptych explored the unseen backstage world of the Nakamura-za theater. In Kunisada's rendition, the backstage has been split open in cross section, and in the various floors and suites, exposed like rooms in a dollhouse, we see some 40 celebrated actors, engaged in all manner of activities: rehearsing, dozing, chatting, signing autographs for admirers. The figures in this crowd of casual celebrities-the net effect is strangely reminiscent of Hieronymus Bosch-are each identified in small side inscriptions. So popular was this intimate panorama that, in the spring of 1813, Nishimuraya published two more gakuya no zu (greenroom pictures): a more elaborate view of the Nakamura-za and a backstage view of its principal competitor, the Ichimura-za. A view of the perennial underdog, the Morita-za, completed the trilogy in the autumn. The first Shohon-jitate was a direct descendant of these prints. In the kojo or "prologue" delivered by Nishimuraya Yohachi before the "play" that is Shohon-jitate #1, the publisher makes it clear that the success of the novelty print series led him to commission a work from Tanehiko that could use the greenroom theme in its frontispieces. 28 The frontispieces to Shohon-jitate #1 do in fact display crowds of actors, stagehands, and indeterminate idlers backstage at the Nakamura-za. The subtitle to the work, Gakuya no tsuzuki-e (Greenroom polyptych), further emphasizes the connection. Quite possibly Nishimuraya regarded the Kunisada frontispieces as the chief selling attraction of the item, and the text, by a promising but decidedly lesser figure, of secondary or tertiary importance only in promoting sales. There was no immediate plan for a sequel; Shohon-jitate #1 was a story complete in itself. Public response, however, was to dictate otherwise. In overview, the 12 representatives of the Shohon-jitate series tell 7 distinct stories. Titles #1-#4, published between 1815 and 1820, are singleinstallment gokan; the remaining 3 stories, from #5 of 1822, unfold their narrative over multiple years and installments. The plots are all

Gokan and Renown

75

familiar from the kabuki stage, and typically revolve around a celebrated pair of lovers (O-Naka and Seishichi, 0-Some and Hisamatsu, and so on). There are occasional excursions into historicity or exoticism. In #4, for example, Chikamatsu Monzaemon, as well as the Genroku-period stage sensation Mizuki Tatsunosuke (1673-1745) figure among the fictional dramatis personae; in #5 of 1822, features of Kyoto and Osaka kabuki performances reflect Kunisada's recent trip to western Japan. 29 It must be admitted, too, that many of the plays behind Tanehiko's Shohon-jitate do have earlier joruri or ballad antecedents. When viewed as a whole, however, the episodes he manipulates derive from recent, successful performances; his academic inclinations here have limited play. From the moment the reader picks up a volume of Shohon-jitate, he is close to kabuki, for the inscriptions on the cover are in the distinctive Kantei-ryu calligraphic style-the compressed, heavy script favored for playbills and billboards-and the cover may display an actor or a stage property. The guiding principle throughout Shohon-jitate is that life must imitate art: Dialogue is not true to life, but true to the diction of the stage; clothing must suggest costumes; scenes in illustrations are rather sets, the stagier the better. A fence in an illustration is made to appear as two-dimensional and prop-like as possible. Instead of a live dog, in Shohon-jitate #7 Kunisada draws an actor in a nuigurumi dog costume. For the characters of Shohon-jitate themselves, theater is the central normative experience. The second Shohon-jitate as its "frame story" depicts a group of amateurs stumbling through an informal chaban enactment of the Soga brothers' revenge-traditional New Year's fare. Both #2 and #4 begin with the chatter of characters who encounter one another by happenstance in a theater and while away the moments before curtain time in discussing this or that mundanity; the latter installment sets one of its subsequent scenes in a greenroom during an intermission, as peddlers of sushi, whelk eggs, and other comestibles hawk their wares. 30 This loving re-creation of "Theaterland," as one contemporary enthusiast dubbed it, of an enchanted world with its peculiar sights and savors, sounds and delights remains, by virtue of its detail, a promising source of information about the fading actualities of nineteenth-century kabuki.

76

Gokan and Renown

Unlike the typical Tanehiko gokan, in which most of the action is entrusted to breathless narration, Shohon-jitate consists largely of dialogue. Interspersed throughout the dialogue exchange are clear "stage directions" in playbook jargon to enhance the theatrical illusion, for example Hanbei ga erigami tsukami, tomo ni shirii ni hatta to taoru. Chon. Kono dogu bunmawasu (He grabs Hanbei by the scruff of his neck; they tumble down backwards together with a crash. Clack! Rotate set). 31 The Chon "Clack!" here echoes the tsuke clappers, used to alert the audience's attention to a climactic moment on stage. Other examples of this stage "business" are: Kono mie yoroshiku maku (Hold pose ad lib. Curtain), Chon chon kono hei hidarimigi e hiraku (Clack, clack! Walls pull apart, stage right and stage left), and, finally, a fusion of stage direction and narrative, ... ori kara tsuguru yoake no kane. Keisaku 0-Mitsu wa namida wo kakushi, somukuru kao to miawasu kao battari orosu yottsute no tare. Hyoshi-gi, chon. Karasu no koe, ga ga ga ga. Maku Oust then the bell sounds to proclaim the dawn. Keisaku and 0-Mitsu hide their tears, their gaze by turns fixed on, averted from the other's. Down crash the blinds in the simple palanquin. Clappers: clack! Crow calls: caw, caw, caw! Curtain).32 Additional markings in the text designate joruri style recitative "on stage," or suggest musical directions (for example, kotouta [overture music], or kangen nite tsunagi sugu ni hikkaeshi [orchestral bridge, break away immediately to following scene]). 33 It is easy to think of Shohon-jitate as a series of plays, embellished with occasional narrative features. Indeed, August Pfizmaier (18081887), an Austrian philologist, thought them plays pure and simple when he happened across a copy in the middle decades of the nineteenth century. "These works," he writes of Shohon-jitate #7 and #8 in the preface to his heroic 1870-1871 German rendition, preserved in the Royal and Imperial Court Library in Vienna, whose contents are designated by the donor as well as in the catalog of the library at Leiden as being of a narrative nature, appear, upon closer scrutiny, to be dramatic, and are actually the seventh and eighth parts of an "ennealogy" (as it were), perhaps "polylogy," for dramas in Japan frequently are protracted to such lengths. 34

Portions of Shohon-jitate are, in fact, indistinguishable from kabuki scripts. For all his accuracy in reproducing the diction and ambience of

}

Gokan and Renown

77

the kabuki stage, however, Tanehiko is careful to maintain a slight remove from perfection, and thus preserve the novelty of the format. Were he to write a simple play, the finished product would not differ from quantities of mechanical stage transcriptions on the market. The skew quantities of Shohon-jitate, its self-conscious departures from ~ts model, are among its primary charms, as Tanehiko himself acknotledged. In a letter of October 1829 addressed to his disciple, Senka, the experienced author looks back over the years of Shohon-jitate. After a protracted discussion of the suitability of various prose meters for different audiences, he continues: In writing my Shohon-jitate, I introduced these meters [i.e. 5-7-5-7 and 7-5-7-5] unobtrusively, while outwardly it appeared that I was merely writing actors' lines. You might think it best to proceed as if writing a real play, and to have the characters of the story speak like real actors in a performance, but I assure you, this will not succeed in a work intended for children. There are many authors who, ignorant of this principle, are convinced that whatever they write that sounds generally "play-like" is fine and good-and whose works, consequently, nobody bothers to buy. This principle is my great secret. To fail to distinguish metrical narrative, theatrical diction, and writing for women and children is a grave error.3s

The publisher Nishimuraya Yohachi failed to perceive the artistic value of the discrepancies. We have his disclaimer in an "aside" incorporated into #3 {1817): This year I had him [Tanehiko] write in the spirit of a kaomise showpiece play, but, as I advised you in the first installment, ladies and gentlemen, you will find passages that differ considerably from actual theatrical performances. I earnestly beseech you to overlook these and dismiss them as "silly picturebook nonsense," no more and no less.36

Without these divergencies from the stage model, however, the installments of Shohon-jitate would lose much of their appeal, just as the kabuki p~ays on which they are founded would diminish in attraction if pressed to represent too closely models in everyday life. With the possible exception of Tanehiko's solitary sharebon, the Shohon-jitate series is probably the most challenging of all Tanehiko's works for the modern reader. Quite apart from the difficulties of analyzing undifferentiated cataracts of dialogue, the force of the text hinges crit-

78

Gokan and Renown

ically on a presumed shared knowledge of a specialized theatrical milieu-a milieu not easily resurrected, even in the mind of the most avid theatergoer of the late twentieth century. By themselves, the texts are like so many opera libretti -sometimes pretty, generally banal. Fortunately, the illustrations by Kunisada exist to supplement some part of the deficiency. Without them, it is doubtful Tanehikds literary endeavor could have enjoyed half the degree of popularity. They are, in fact, the only aspect of the work Bakin found worthy of commendation: Among the new publications of 1816 [sic] was a gokan work, Shohon-jitate (illustrations by Utagawa Kunisada, publication by Nishimuraya Yohachi). It conformed with the vogue of its day, and appeared in multiple successive chapters. This gokan keeps text to a minimum and concentrates mostly on illustrations. These illustrations show consummate skill, and surpass the text in quality. 37

The Kunisada illustrations portray, in unrelenting detail, the world on stage and-just as significant to the contemporary theatergoer-the offstage concomitants of theatrical performances. The guiding principle for the artist, predictably, was to render all scenes as stage-like as possible. In some illustrations, we even see curtains and edges of stage properties, or the gift-laden hanamichi ramp beneath which assorted spectators gawk and crane their necks. Other illustrations delineate precisely stage machinery, trap doors, and revolving turntables in the floor. Glimpses of the "technical crew"- musicians, sound-effects men, kurogo stage assistants garbed and hooded in black-promote rather than detract from the impact of the spectacle. Theatrical contortions and mie poses are the order of the day; scenes of violence or combat display a practiced artifice (although a degree of theatrical mannerism had become by this date the common property of almost all fiction illustration). Not surprisingly, nigao caricatures abound throughout the illustrations, although of the gentler sort. There is no fixed cast of "actors." Suzuki Juzo notes, however, that the sabakiyaku-the part of a thoughtful, morally irreproachable young man of distinguished birth-in each of the installments bears the features of Bando Mitsugoro ill/Shuka, Tanehikds thespian alter ego. 38 The backstage aspects of the theater, a subject of as vital interest to the contemporary theater enthusiast as "behind-the-scenes" glimpses

Gokan and Renown

79

and gossipy reportage on actors' private affairs to the film cultist of today, are no less in evidence throughout Shohon-jitate. In harmony with the original graphic inspiration for the work, Kunisada provides intimate glimpses of actors in the greenroom, rehearsing, or indulging in one of a number of formal dinners that punctuated the theatrical year. The private lives of actors are another favorite topic of illustration, and make Shohon-jitate a dignified precursor to the all-too-familiar genre of illustrated celebrity journalism. The frontispieces to #7 of 1824, for example, depict seven renowned contemporary actors, and beside each one, a miniature bird's-eye view of his opulent landscaped villa in a fashionable quarter of Edo. 39 Shohon-jitate was the first, and one of the outstanding examples of the collaboration between Tanehiko and the artist Utagawa Kunisada {1786-1865). The collaboration continued until the author's death, even beyond, for Kunisada illustrated four posthumous sequels to Inaka Genji and many works by Tanehiko's disciples. It is doubtful that either partner in this coalition of verbal and artistic genius could have attained such dizzying eminence without the other. Kunisada, already a first-rate celebrity in the 1810s, greatly advanced the reputation of Tanehiko by consenting to the association, while Tanehiko's popularity in the 1830s kept Kunisada high on the list of conspicuous public favorites, even after his draftsmanship had begun to lose some of its former suppleness and invention. A study of the one man'~· achievement is entirely deficient without some mention of the other's works. The two were of different class backgrounds-Tanehiko a hatamoto, Kunisada the son of a shareholder in a prosperous ferry service across the Sumida River- but their careers display many fortuitous parallels. 40 Both were sons of the unfashionable Honjo district; the fathers of both men participated in poetic circles, and died while their sons were still children. From youth, Tsunoda Shozo (to use Kunisada's common name) was a theater enthusiast, and it is entirely possible that he and Takaya Hikoshiro crossed paths at theater galas of the 1790s. To promote his precocious artistic talents, Shozos mother arranged for her son to draw under the tutelage of Utagawa Toyokuni {1769-1825), probably around the year 1800. The adolescent's precocious talent startled Toyokuni, who granted him the privilege of an artistic name derived from his own.

80

Gokan and Renown

Kunisada's first published work was in Oi senu kado kesho no wakamizu (Gate of immortality, New Year's water for cosmetics), a promotional brochure distributed in early 1807 as a New Year's premium for a perfumer's regular customers. Kunisada drew actors' faces on the characters-personifications of the sponsor's line of scents and cosmetics-while Bakin supplied the text. The response to this effort was so positive that Toyokuni permitted his disciple to share in the production of an Ikku gokan in 1807; in 1808, the year Kunisada produced his first actor prints, at least 13 gokan boasted the signature of the 23-year-old prodigy. From this point, his rise to preeminence was nothing if not meteoric. Shikitei Sanba, himself on the threshold of his own period of greatest literary success, found much to envy in Kunisada's good fortune when he described the phenomenon in Shikitei zakki: Domo' no Matahei [Matahei the Stammerer, 1808; a gokan by Sanba], an ezoshi, was the first production of Utagawa Kunisada, disciple of Utagawa Toyokuni. It was a great success at the time. From 1809 onward, [Kunisada] only increased in popularity, and currently Uuly 1810] he is the star attraction of his entire school. (Lives beside the Fifth Bridge ferry landing in Honjo, is proprietor of the landing. Common name Shogoro.) He has a gentle, unassuming nature. 41

In the course of an artistic career spanning seven decades, Kunisada produced an estimated 3 to 4 thousand prints-some would say more than 10 thousand-and collaborated in the production of some 350 gesaku titles. One indication of the more popular appraisal of the two figures, Tanehiko and Kunisada, emerges in banzuke listings of gesaku artists and authors. The banzuke list, originally intended to display relative standings in sumo wrestling competitions, had become a standard format, half-serious and half- jocular, for graded hierarchies of any kind. One such listing, compiled around 1813, awards the title ozeki (grand champion), its highest accolade, to Utagawa Toyokuni among the artists (the modern highest rank in wrestling, yokozuna, is a later standardization of an older, exceptional discernment). Sekiwaki or second place among artists falls to Kunisada. Among the authors, Santo Kyoden takes first place, Sanba second, Ikku third; Bakin serves as gyoji "arbiter," while

Gokan and Renown

81

Tanehiko trails in at fourth place, the position of maegashira. Even the most generous banzuke listings could not accord Tanehiko higher than third place, komusubi, before the publication of Shohon-jitate. 42 Tanehiko mentions Kunisada briefly in his latest diary, of 1816. The two men take a stroll through the Hana-yashiki (now Hyakkaen) public gardens, and admire the autumn blossoms together in September 1816; three weeks later Tanehiko goes to pay a social call on Kunisada, but finds him out. 43 The first visit is concurrent with Tanehiko's completion of an installment in Shohon-jitate-possibly #3, for publication in the spring of 1817. At the time, Tanehiko was 34, Kunisada 31, and yet it is more than likely that Tanehiko was in awe of his junior: in both passages of the diary, Tanehiko adds the honorific denominative shi (Master) to Kunisada's name. The two men shared much in common: parallel careers, a common interest in the theater, a liking for detail and fastidious precision, an unassuming disposition. Even after the vogue for nigao had struck and faded, Kunisada's ability to render figures in dramatic poses and to convey a sense of brooding mystery coincided well with the tenor of Tanehiko's productions. Hokusai, Hokusai's disciples, and Shigenobu, as we have seen, supplied the lion's share of illustrations for Tanehiko's works through 1820; in the 1820s, lesser figures of the Utagawa school like Kunimaru (1794-1829) and Kuninao (1793-1854), or the young Kuniyoshi (1798-1861) and Hiroshige (1797-1858) collaborated with the author throughout several publishing seasons. By the late 1820s, however, Kunisada's contribution to Tanehiko's work effectively eclipsed that of any other artist. All major works-Shohon-jitate, Inaka Genji, Kantan shokoku monogatari- bear the signature and unmistakable impress of Kunisada's invention. Tanehiko's production of gokan titles throughout his career was both regular and voluminous: With the solitary exception of 1818, when the magistracy of Edo voiced its displeasure with the unwarranted opulence of the form, no year passed after 1811 without one new gokan offering, more commonly several, from the ''Master of the Willow Pavilion."4 4 Even counting the lengthy serial productions as single entities, Tanehiko's gokan conservatively number 81. Elevated as this figure may seem, it is in fact modest by comparison with the author's prolific peers:

+

82

Gokan and Renown

Kyokutei Bakin's single-installment gokan alone amount to 67 titles, while Santo Kyoden generated 84 in a mere eleven years. 45 Despite the adulation of his age, Tanehiko's reading public has left almost no clue to suggest the traits of Tanehiko's gokan they found most engaging, or excellent by comparison; the author himself has bequeathed no systematic presentation of his philosophy of gokan composition. What were the reasons for the phenomenal success of Tanehikds gokan, the source of their extraordinary appeal? No answer at this date can be more than a surmise, but the scanty evidence for reader appreciation of gokan in general suggests in turn specific aspects where Tanehikds appeal was most effective. Outwardly most conspicuous, and no doubt primary in the eyes of a large group of consumers, were the enchantingly intricate illustrations of the typical Ryutei gokan, and its handsome overall appearance. While the sheer physical qualities of a publication, to modern sensibilities, constitute an extra-literary feature of a work, their significance in the contemporary appreciation of gokan can hardly be minimized. Tradition demanded that kusazoshi publications-generally marketed only around New Year's-be bright and eye-catching, to conform with the festive mood of the season. Sober economic realities, equally, dictated that the artwork of the gokan dazzle the eye. Unlike yomihon works, which circulated primarily through lending libraries, and whose reputations, in consequence, benefited by the colporteur's recommendations, gokan works typically were purchased by prospective readers themselves, after a quick review of the assortment in a publisher's stockroom or a stationer's shop. In a Tanehiko gokan of 1820, an Osaka peddler produces from the jumble of her capacious pack a new Kyoden gokan for her client, the moody heroine 0-Natsu; the peddler's commendations and 0-Natsu's quickening interest in the work are sparked entirely by the illustrations by Toyokuni. 46 Like the twentieth-century magazine or "mass-market" paperback, the gokan flourished or perished primarily on the strength of its artwork. To Santo Kyoden, Tanehikds early model for gokan no less than yomihon composition, the artist was the primary narrator, the writer only his collaborator. In a metaphor from the puppet-joruri theater, Kyoden termed the artist the gidayu or chanter-the center of public

Gokan and Renown

83

interest and the channel of infinite expressiveness-while the author of the text was merely the shamisen accompanist-essential but unobtrusive. In composing his gokan, one close associate averred, Kyoden began with rough sequential cartoons, and only later built a text around them. 47 Tanehiko's approach to composition was undoubtedly more literary, but his appreciation of the critical role of artwork in gokan was no less acute than Kyoden's. Negotiations with the artist Hokusfi assume pride of place in the diary passages detailing the composition of the author's first gokan, Suzuki-bocho Aoto no kireaji, while the text takes care of itself. A sensitivity to artwork remained a hallmark of Tanehiko's composition, and was a mainstay of his success. The surviving cartoon drafts to select installments of Shohon-jitate or Inaka Genji amply demonstrate the author's solicitude for the correct final appearance of his works. While sketchy strokes suffice to plot out figures and background, the author's annotations for Kunisada are voluminous and explicit: The vegetation and architecture, the costumes, postures, and even physiognomies of the characters must conform to specific directives. 48 This precision, of course, is not exclusively a reflection of the author's esthetic preferences, but derives in large measure from the intimate interdependence of text and illustration in the gokan. Each detail of the illustration may provide some pregnant clue to unraveling the tangled web of identities and intentions, or tacitly foreshadow some crucial turn of events. The gokan reader, acutely sensitized by habitual exposure to these significant minutiae, was unlikely to forgive even minor discrepancies. The necessarily close relationship between the gokan artist and author suggests more the intimate coordination of a modern cartoon animator and his storyboard writer than a modern novelist and his remote jacket or cover artist. Anecdote attests to Tanehiko's preoccupation with visual detail. Once while passing a stonecutter's shop, the author was struck by the nobility of the workman's engraved inscriptions; this was precisely the calligraphy he required for the title of his Nise Murasaki inaka Genji, and the stonecutter was engaged on the spot. In another account, which illustrates effectively the antiquarian and professional aspects of this devotion to detail, Tanehiko journeyed to Utsunomiya, a good 60 miles north of Edo, for the express purpose of verifying for an illustration the construction of an antique stone lantern. 49

84

Gokan and Renown

Meticulous attention to detail, textual no less than visual, is perhaps the cardinal principle of all Tanehikds works, fictional and nonfictional. Not surprisingly, one of the few anecdotes that purports to transmit the author's actual words praises, first, the necessity of a harmonious assortment of complementary qualities, each perfect in itself, before the totality can succeed: On one occasion, the Master said that gesaku authors and actors are not unlike courtesans. "Suppose," he argued, "a courtesan has lovely features, but has no spirit [han] or self-respect, has no gorgeous garments or ornaments for her hair. Surely she would not attract customers. Or consider an actor who has a fine manly presence but who has not yet brought his stage techniques [get] to maturity. If he does not pay careful attention to the splendor of his costumes or the need to charm his public, he soon will find himself unappreciated, even loathed by the audience, and without a single supporter. And, similarly, a gesaku author may compose with consummate skill, but if an incompetent artist illustrates his work, if a bungling engraver carves the blocks, or if the title of the work is inferior, then he will have no renown for his pains. The work will not sell, and will never become a hit. [In any art,] those who finally receive the highest accolades have demonstrated their talents consistently from the immature beginnings of their careers-which brings to mind a story."

The ensuing narrative, characteristically, illustrates the rewards of scrupulous attention to detail with episodes from the Cinderella career of Nakamura Nakaz6 I/Shukaku (1726-1790). At first the young kabuki actor was clumsy and uncertain on stage; audiences regularly regaled him with unflattering epithets. After each performance, though, he made it a rule to iron and fold his costumes personally, with great care; the other actors, by contrast, simply turned over their costumes casually to the wardrobe after performing, and were content to appear day after day in wrinkled, untidy attire. It was not long before this perfectionism, however small its compass, won Nakaz6 recognition: He was elected to play serious parts of increasing significance, and rose to be a celebrity whose fame lingers to this day. The anecdotal Tanehiko concludes his homily: "Those whose names resound throughout the world surpass the motley crowd from their very beginnings. One should write gesaku with the attitude

Gokan and Renown

85

of a Shukaku [Nakamura Nakazo]: One must devote wholehearted attention to the task at all times, and never write carelessly, be it a single paragraph, or even a single phrase. Far better to write after careful reflection, so that the plot develops consistently and economically throughout. One should also take pains in designing the illustrations."so

A concern for detail was of particular significance in the singleinstallment gokan, the form most congenial to the author's temperament. Within the tightly prescribed limit of 30 pages (25 pages, in fact, once frontispieces are discounted), there was little latitude for the extraneous; each detail had to enhance the narrative. The staggeringly complex plots, involving dozens of characters and multiple impersonations, demanded the most meticulous planning to achieve successful resolution. Where the author's perfectionism cannot find full expression, the distress is acute: The preface to a gokan of 1826 abjectly apologizes to readers for the inadvertent duplication of a plot device, the reunion of two sets of long-separated brothers, in a single work. 51 A failure to identify trivial references in a gokan adaptation of the Chinese vernacular classic Shui hu chuan, as we shall see, plunges Tanehiko into anger and deep melancholy, and finally induces repugnance for the project. An eye to detail, graphic and narrative, is the common property of most gokan authors; a second, more distinctive quality of the Ryutei gokan was its "sobriety" or "propriety," a turning away from the sanguinary and sensational elements of the earliest gokan to a world at least periodically more placid. Weird and lurid scenes are by no means absent from the Tanehiko corpus: a brigand's disembodied head grins as the table centerpiece at a wedding feast in Mushiken (''Bug fist" -a competitive game played by hand configurations, 1819); the head of the victimized courtesan Toyama turns into a hideous skull when contemplated by her murderer in Ona-moyo inazuma-zome (Thunderbolt dyed design pattern for women, 1816); the villainous Tagamura of Asamagatake keburi no sugata-e (Mt. Asama smoke portrait, 1820) makes good his escape by leaping into the heavens on the back of a gigantic enchanted toad. 52 Fiendish creations like Ayametaro of Mushiken know no diversion apart from indiscriminate cruelty, and the climactic finales of several early titles depict vengeful butchery in unison by a posse of exultant victims.

86

Gokan and Renown

As early as Tanehiko's first gokan of 1811, however, there are signs of a withdrawal from the gruesome lock step of the vendetta piece: The author's interest lies more in the romantic vicissitudes of separated couples and the mechanism of their reunion than in the confrontation of miscreant and nemesis. The savagery of Sanba's Ikazuchi Taro yields to the more subtle villainy of byzantine intrigue in the courts of daimyo lords. By the 1820s, Tanehiko felt enough self-assurance to break from the old mold and dispense entirely with the rusty plot machinery of the vendetta. Ukiyo-gata rokumai-byobu (Six-panel screen in stances of the floating world, 1821), composed under the strong influence of Chikamatsu's "domestic pieces" of lovers' suicides, concentrates on the romantic misadventures and final reunion of two lovers. Vengeance plays no part in the work, nor are there the extraordinary strokes of coincidence, identifying "tokens," the malevolent or gracious supernatural interventions so beloved of contemporaries. The preface to Ukiyogata, equally unconventional, provides no fanciful preview of elements in the work to follow, but insists on the hackneyed plot devices the reader will not encounter in subsequent pages: Things you will not find in this book: vendettas, first of all; human prodigies; sorcery; tales of the supernatural; foxes, wolves, and toads; [stolen] genealogical charts or household treasures, nor any other item to purloin; encounters of long-lost parent and child or brother and brother; [identifying] medicine boxes, combs, or matching hairpins; dream oracles from gods or buddhas; selfdisembowelment, self-immolation, or drawn swords; and you will not see the slightest drop of blood. 53

Entertainment and a pleasant rel ~ase from the day's vexations were the primary attractions of nineteenth-century gesaku fiction, and certainly the foremost expectation of its consumers. At the same time, a significant proportion of readers cherished some desire of lasting benefit or hope of self-improvement from the exercise of literacy. Though not as bedeviled by puritanical or utilitarian qualms as their European contemporaries, the more thoughtful readers of Japanese popular literature sought in some manner to "redeem" the time spent on recreational reading-a selfish leisure indulgence without the hoary traditions of music, art, or countless genteel avocations to recommend it. The yomihon from the start provided generous doses of moral tags

Gokan and Renown

87

and factual miscellanea to assuage the reader's uneasy conscience. Gokan, "the poor man's yomihon," were far less dedicated to the instructive mode; for most gokan readers, doubtless, the triumph of probity and repetitive anthem of Medetashi medetashi (Most wondrous! Most auspicious!) at the conclusion to each text more than satisfied any didactic cravings. For the growing class of readers who could claim some learning beyond basic literacy, and whose aspirations tended to gentility, however, the patina of erudition and antique elegance that is a third major characteristic of Tanehikds works was a potent inducement. More sophisticated readers as well, who dismissed the majority of gokan as too crude and barbarous to merit consideration, found satisfaction for the same reasons in his titles. The phenomenal success of Tanehiko, like that of Scott or Dickens, was in large part the success of his compromise of "elegant" and "vulgar" elements, and an ability to appeal simultaneously to the most diverse spectrum of literacy and sophistication. With the notable exception of Inaka Genji, allusions to the classical canon of Japanese literature in Tanehikds gokan are rare, and allusions to the Chinese classics rarer still. 54 The allusions that do figure in the text often capitalize on the very simplest of citations, those most likely to appeal to the reader with a mere smattering of classical knowledge. References. to the Fuwa Barrier and its gate occur repeatedly in Eayatsuri nimen-kagami (Picture puppetry two-panel mirror, 1820)-easy allusions to an extremely well-known Shinkokinshu verse by Kujo Yoshitsune (1169-1206), clearly in the public domain. 55 More obvious still is a reference to the works of Saigyo (1118-1190) in the ill-fated hunting of the snipe that prefaces the main action of Ukiyo-gata rokumaibyobu. While progressing toward his villa in Oiso near Kamakura, the lord of the Kant happens to pass by the celebrated Shigitatsu Sawa (Swamp where the snipe arises). In case the reader has not heard of the poem from which the placename derives-surely one of the most quoted in the classical repertory-Tanehiko spells it out quite plainly: Here the Priest Saigyo composed his poem: Kokoro naki m1 m mo aware wa shirarekeri

Even this man beyond feelings now realizes the sadness of things-

88

Gokan and Renown shigi tatsu sawa no aki no yugure

dusk in autumn, when the snipe stands still in a marsh.

And in truth this place, remote and far from all habitations, seemed the natural spot to compose such a poem. Unknown hands had built a chapel, now weathered, by the crossroads, and the setting was lonely in the extreme.

Sure enough, the lord and his entourage spot a snipe bobbing for fish on the marsh before them. A retainer comments excitedly on the coincidence, then urges: "Sit and rest yourself, my lord, by the side of this chapel. It is dusk, and autumn, and when you see the snipe rise up [tobitatsu]-why, it will be just as Saigyo wrote in his poem."

The lord crushes his retainer's enthusiasm with an impromptu grammar lesson: Tamontaro burst out laughing: ''When he wrote the line shigi tatsu sawa, he did not mean 'fly off [tobitatsu]. No, he meant that the bird was simply standing, unoccupied, after alighting. It is a serious, but common error, when illustrating this poem, to draw the snipe rising in flight. See there, now-the snipe is neither fishing nor flying off, but is simply standing, still and lonely. 'Ibis is the scene implied in the line shigi tatsu sawa." The retainer, perhaps because he was unfamiliar with the way of poetry, heard but paid scant attention to his lord's words. "fll wager," he ventured casually, "that that bird is a good 60 yards distant." ''No," another samurai objected, "the snipe is a small bird, similar to the pheasant. Surely a bird we see this clearly is no more than 40 yards away."56

The presumption of a third samurai, Mizuma Shimanosuke, who fires an arrow to ascertain the distance to the bird and stop the pointless argument, results in his banishment. Tanehiko cannot resist offering the reader brief lessons in geography, literary history, grammar, even ornithology. (Ironically, the artist Toyokuni has failed to profit from them, and depicts the problematic snipe not stationary but in flight.) Throughout the passage, the author urges the reader to congratulate himself that he at least is not an ignoramus when it comes to Saigyos poetry, yet the insistence with which the author explains every particular of the poem- details, incidentally, irrelevant to the progress of the narrative-suggests that Tanehiko is address-

Gokan and Renown

89

ing a group with limited literary pretensions. Here is no conventional, delicately oblique periphrasis (for example, "Could it have been here that a certain 'man beyond feelings' of yore gazed at a certain waterfowl?") to cement a bond of understanding between reader and author, but a ponderous lesson masquerading as facts well known to all. Formal history plays as little role in Tanehiko's gokan as in his earlier yomihon. Casual anachronisms abound: Twelfth-century figures in Mushiken despatch one another with matchlock muskets, while the characters of Karigane kon'ya-saku no hayazome (Fast dyeing by the wild goose dyer's design, 1826) on a single page discuss the "troubles" of the fifteenth-century Onin War and quote the puppet play Kana-dehon chushin-gura (Exemplary alphabet treasury of loyal retainers, 1748). 57 The scrupulous reader no sooner would adopt Tanehiko as his mentor in history than he would rely on the theater for an accurate conception of the past. As in the yomihon, however, it is Tanehiko's encyclopedic knowledge of the Genroku period, an era quaint but not forbiddingly antique, that provides the patina or graceful burnish his readers favored. Despite the ever-present imperative of textual economy, Asamagatake keburi no sugata-e (1820) pauses to describe the colorful bustle of New Year's in the Gojozaka pleasure quarter of Kyoto, and surveys the attire of its clients; crude impromptu joruri recitation by a young woman figures later in the work, and readers may peruse notes on the early history of puppetry alongside its frontispieces. 58 Visual allusions to Genroku publishing adorn illustrations: The tables of contents in Hana-momiji ittsui wakashu (Blossoms and tinted leaves, pair of noble youths; 1821) and Keisei Seisuiki (Courtesans' Seisuiki, 1821) deliberately mimic the presentation in a seventeenth-century ukiyozoshi title, while a tableau of Futatsuwari teboso no murasaki (Half-bolt kerchief purple, 1820) copies the lively clutter of an eighteenth-century Hachimonjiya publication. The puppet-play strong man Kinpira glowers irascibly from Kunisada's "worm-eaten'' inside cover to Musume Kinpira mukashi e-zoshi (The girl's Kinpira picture book of old, 1821).59 Genroku literary artifacts may serve as the formative nucleus of a Tanehiko gokan, which subsequently assumes the role of an extended imaginative commentary on the historic item. 0-Natsu's ballad about

90

Gokan and Renown

her lover Seijur6, transmitted in legend, is more than an incidental to her story in E-ayatsuri nimen-kagami: Here the song becomes her deliberate creation, a device to ward off the advances of Seijuros unwelcome rivals. 60 Perhaps only Tanehiko could develop an academic inquiry into the multiple authors and variants attested for a single haikai verse of the seventeenth century into a full gokan story explaining the situationthe whole allegedly inspired by a solemn dream vision of the partriarch of haikai prosody, Matsunaga Teitoku (1571-1653). 61 Readers well versed in Genroku literature, though undoubtedly an exiguous minority, found their enjoyment enhanced by oblique references to historic works. The author of Kaku ya ika ni no ki, for example, takes a special delight in disclosing parallels between an episode in Keisei Seisuiki and one in Saikaku's Nippon eitai-gura Gapanese family storehouse for the ages, 1688), or noting the derivation of a character's name from a verse by Basho. 62 More often than not, however, Tanehiko emphasizes his Genroku sources in titles and prefaces, and actively invites comparison. Here he points out that his title stems from a verse by Kitamura Kigin (1624-1705); there he stresses his debt to Saikaku's Nanshoku okagami (Great mirror of manly love, 1687), or to Jishos ( ? -1745?) Keisei utajamisen (The courtesan's tuneful shamisen, 1732). While the literary delving pleasing to the author of Kaku ya ika nino ki was probably very much the exception to the capacities or inclinations of most readers, the value of Tanehiko's references in reviving a general public awareness of Saikaku, Jisho, and their contemporaries cannot be underestimated. 63 Of all major characteristics of Tanehiko's gokan, finally, an overt theatricality is probably the trait that most endeared him to his public. A Tanehiko gokan allowed the seasoned kabuki aficionado the chance to relive the charged atmosphere of the theater; for the much more populous ranks of would-be theatergoers, whom situation, circumstance, or financial considerations barred from the costly indulgence of a day at a major theater, the Tanehiko gokan provided a cheap but savory substitute. In the degree of attention to detail, restraint, and veneer of genial erudition, Tanehiko diverges perceptibly from the common run of gokan production. The theatricality of the typical Ryfitei gokan, however, distills and concentrates to a new intensity this fundamental trait of all

gokan.

Gokan and Renown

91

It is not impossible that Tanehiko even composed for the theater-a duality of roles unusual for his time-although the evidence is tenuous. 64 There is no contesting, however, the strong affinity Tanehiko perceived between the composition of gokan titles and the authoring of scripts. ''After careful reflection," the author notes in a preface of 1812, "it is clear that gesaku composition and the playhouse [gejo/shibat] are fundamentally the same."65 My writing desk, Tanehiko observes in a preface from mid-career, serves me as a stage for my productions. The subject more than justifies the approach: In phrasing reminiscent of Shakespeare's melancholy Jaques, Tanehiko remarks that the world itself is no different from a rough playhouse thrown up at a crossroads, where men have their entrances and their exits; each human character undergoes his own abrupt "quick changes," and the world's vaunted treasures are mere "movable properties."66 Theatrical elements, blatant and subtle, permeate every dimension of the Tanehiko gokan. Titles-themselves engagingly cryptic, in marquee style-frequently bear tsunogaki (prefixed "subtitles"} to designate specifically the familiar theatrical sekai "world" they embody. Internal division occasionally follows theatrical convention: E-ayatsuri nimen-kagami, for example, comprises 6 dan (acts}. Stylistically, dialogue frequently dominates; occasionally to the exclusion of all connecting narrative. Stage "delivery" -rapid-fire exchange of short lines, antiphonal enunciation of portions of a line, agonized soliloquies, "asides" to the reader/ audience-echoes the mannerisms of the kabuki theater. Where Tanehiko introduces the style of joruri narration the text lapses into fluid metrical periods, and features Janus-faced "pivot words" and intricate assonance. Plot elaboration follows familiar theatrical precedent. From the kabuki stage the author draws familiar shuko or plot cliches-the "treasure quest" to recover a stolen heirloom and one's sullied honor, the mortal affront of a sandal-inflicted blow, the unheeded remonstrance, the mistaken murder-and an array of character stereotypes-the inevitable andiron set of loyal and nefarious counselors, the libertine heir, the generous courtesan. The joruri stage may be the ultimate source of a programmatic alternation of "modes" prominent in certain titles. Under this dispensation, the opening scenes of a work are public in setting,

92

Gokan and Renown

heroic in tenor, dominated by formal and family concerns-the equivalent of the jidai-mono "historical play" in the canon. Subsequent scenes, in complete contrast, are intimate, in commonplace surroundings, dominated by confidential personal concerns, and contemporary in settingthe equivalent of sewa-mono "domestic pieces." By the conclusion of the work, the links between the initial and latter portions, at first glance so remote, become obvious. The characters of the Tanehiko gokan, finally, are themselves conscious actors: for expedient purposes, they feign fidelity, love, madness, or profligacy, or impersonate over dozens of years their social inferiors. The stern reality of the initial hottan (origins) segment once more prevails by the final pages; the interim, though, is a world of masks and moving shadows. Not surprisingly, the historic phases of the popular theater commanded the greatest appeal for Tanehiko: The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries held a rich fund of episodes, characters, and devices neglected by less resourceful gokan authors, who concerned themselves primarily with the sensations of the modern stage. Bakin's sour assumption that Tanehiko simply cobbled together bits and scraps of the two or three hundred joruri scripts in his library to create his gokan is surely an oversimplification, but does suggest something of the author's method. 67 Like any contemporary, Tanehiko was well aware of the latest attractions of the kabuki theater. References to current productions besprinkle the diaries-though the attitude is remote, and the young author clearly favors the past over the present. In a flourish of romanticism or pedantry, the great theaters of Edo appear in the diaries under the names of their seventeenth-century managers. 68 The fascination with Genroku kabuki reached an early peak in 1817, when the author presented, in gokan format, a transcript of an unpublished Genroku kabuki drama. The preface to Soga mukashi kyogen (Soga play of yore), an excellent example of Tanehiko's worshipful attention to all things Genroku, is worth quoting in full: Chikamatsu Monzaemon was originally an author of kabuki plays. I borrowed a script of that period, Soga tayfl-zome (Soga grand courtesan's dye pattern), from a friend of mine. As I chanted it aloud by lamplight, I felt exactly

Gokan and Renown

93

as if I were seeing a performance of more than one hundred years ago before my very eyes. The sensation was so extraordinary that I came to feel I would like to transmit this antique manner to the world at large. The turns of plot [shuko] I have not altered in the least from the original work; I have merely modernized the language. The title I have left as in the original, and named [my work] Saga mukashi kyogen. There is no date to the original, but indications in the text make me believe it must be from 1693 or 1694. It would be tedious to note the evidence here, and so I shall let it pass. The taytl (grand courtesan) in the title of the play, Tayn-zome, must be [the actor] Mizuki Tatsunosuke. The dyed pattern he always wore at that period was known as Tatsunosuke-zome (Tatsunosuke dyed pattern), and became very popular. This must be the origin of Chikamatsu's title. 69

History_ does not record the success of this unprecedented venture, which offered the public commentary on early productions and illustrations of wigs and costumes in the margins in addition to its modernized text. Nor, for that matter, does history record any Chikamatsu play Tayu-zome or Soga tayu-zome, claimed by Tanehiko as his source. While it is possible that Tanehiko, by his efforts, has rescued here an obscure text from oblivion, it is equally possible that Soga mukashi kyogen is an original pastiche of Chikamatsu, a fraud undertaken from the most pious motives.7° The culmination of Tanehikds fascination with Genroku kabuki was his Mukashimukashi kabuki monogatari (Kabuki tales of long, long ago; 1830-1831). This unusual amalgam of the historic and modern presents in its gokan installments adaptations of two kabuki plays by Chikamatsu, originally composed to showcase the talents of Sakata Tojuro/Sharen (1647-1709) and Mizuki Tatsunosuke. The style, anything but archaic, emulates instead the colloquial patter of shibai· banashi "kabuki stories" -the one-man theatrical performances currently the rage in yose vaudeville houses throughout Edo. The novelty of the narrative style and of Kunisada's illustrations, which evoked the yose theater as skillfully as the ongoing Shohon-jitate series reproduced the spectacles of kabuki, were certain to attract curious readers. The plots, culled from moldering scripts of high obscurity, however, were another matter. In the preface to the first installment, Tanehiko cau-

94

Gokan and Renown

tions the casual reader that the ensuing tale will be quite different from the kabuki now current; the preface to the second installment acknowledges the immediate vogue for horror and grotesquery on stage, exemplified by Nanboku's Tokaido Yotsuya kaidan (1825), but specifically rejects such garish ploys, atypical of "long ago." ''Many portions," he concludes philosophically in reviewing his own work, "will not be in conformity with modern tastes." These pessimistic predictions were perhaps realized in poor sales and the premature discontinuation of the series after 2 installments, where a full 7 had been planned.71 In the repertory of the puppetjoruri theater, the domestic and historical plays of Chikamatsu affected the author most profoundly. Tanehikds admiration for the master dramatist was uncategorical, and exceptional in an age when Chikamatsu's reputation had begun to lapse into obscurity. In the preface to an 1817 adaptation of Shinju mannenso (Stonecrop love suicides, 1708), Tanehiko dismisses his own talents with the utmost humility: ... There is a work from the pen of Chikamatsu, entitled Mannenso, that traces the progress of these events in a single play. Though I modeled this booklet on it, alas, what can be done about the chasm between genius and dullness, awareness and ignorance? If we liken Master Chikamatsu to the waters of the boundless ocean, I am like the piss of a mosquitoF2

The early maturation of this opinion is evident from the diaries, which list no fewer than 14 Chikamatsu plays as the object of purchase, reading, copying, borrowing, or lending. Already in the diary years the author notes the suitability of Chikamatsu's works for fictional adaptation: After perusing Kokiden u no ha no ubuya (Kokiden and the parturition hut thatched with cormorant feathers, 1712), Tanehiko notes for future reference monogatari no sujibo ni yoshi (good for plot line of tale). 73 The early yomihon borrow themes or scenes periodically from Chikamatsu plays; Moji-tezuri of 1813 spins out its windy, convoluted story as an imaginative introduction and sequel to an adaptation of the relatively compact Yodogoi shusse no takinobori (Yodo River carp bounding leaps to success, 1708). Suzuki-bocho, the earliest Tanehiko gokan, sets a pattern for subsequent productions by acknowledging openly its debt to the works of

Gokan and Renown

95

Chikamatsu. The preface (designed to resemble a worm-eaten seventeenthcentury script) designates Higashiyama Shinnyodo no muneage (Raising the beams for the Shinnyodo in the Eastern Hills), a work possibly by the young Chikamatsu, as the inspiration for the initial episode. Of more than 130 titles from Tanehikds studio, Ikari Akira estimates, more than 40 derive their subject matter entirely or primarily from the corpus of Chikamatsu works.74 Some, like Ona-moyo inazumazome (1816)-an adaptation of Keisei hangonko (Courtesan's resurrection incense, 1708)-or Ukiyo-gata rokumai-byobu (1821) from Shinju yaiba wa kori no tsuitachi (Love suicides in late summer by an icy blade, 1709?), depend primarily on a single title; others borrow eclectically from as many as four titles simultaneously.75 Chikamatsu no doubt would be hard-pressed to recognize the spirit, and not merely the situations, of his works in Tanehikds renditions: The necessity for an auspicious conclusion, to cite one instance, precludes the double love-suicides at the climax of Shinju yaiba or Shinju mannensi5 in their gokan adaptations, and forces the tragic purpose of Chikamatsu's presentation into convoluted melodrama. Within the framework demanded by the gokan reader, however, Tanehiko introduced the dignity of unexceptional lives, the novelty of disinterested affection, and the pathos of the ordinary-all lessons learned or reinforced from a sedulous reading of Chikamatsu's works.

FOUR

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

Previous discussions of Tanehiko's life and art have dwelt almost exclusively on the production and qualities of his works of fiction. The majority of Tanehiko's works are fictional, and, since the author's fame rests on these titles, it is only natural that they should be a primary focus of study. At the same time, the bulk of Tanehiko's nonfictional works, published and private, should not be ignored. These other works, difficult though their contents are to analyze, provide invaluable evidence of the personal interests and intellectual proclivities of the author. Through them, we perceive the breadth of his historical and literary knowledge, his antiquarian penchant, his fascination with musty volumes rescued from perdition at the bottom of a bookseller's bin. The nonfictional works delineate, in a curious, patchy way, the intellectual profile of a figure who rarely intimates his inward concerns in the pages of his fictional productions. The corpus of nonfictional works-notebooks, monographs, published miscellanies-is uniformly the product of a strong antiquarian attraction that remained stable in intensity and direction throughout the author's entire career, and indeed provides a constant unifying thread through compositions, public and personal, fictional and factual. The fascination is in fact twofold, though its spheres of interest largely overlap: a preoccupation with popular urban culture, especially leisure culture and the performing arts, and a specific interest in the manners and institutions of the early Edo period, from about 1600 through

all

98

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

1725. While his miscellanies and the themes of his gokan works do evince some interest in rural legends and folklore, Tanehikds primary interest remains the metropolitan culture of Kyoto, of Osaka, and of Edo during its first century as the seat of shogunal authority. The focus is microscopic: In preference to any sweeping or systematic historical treatment, Tanehiko trains his vision narrowly on the most trivial and fugitive aspects of recent history, to the very matters conventional histories and chronicles had left unrecorded because of their familiarity, vulgarity, or seeming insignificance. And while certain entries in Tanehikds diaries demonstrate some interest in late medieval culture, and the later miscellanies occasionally cite Heian sources, the concern with seventeenth-century, particularly Genroku-period, culture is surely primary. The fact that the major vehicles of a distinctive townsman culturepuppet-joruri and kabuki drama, commercial printing and townsmandirected fiction, haikai verse, ukiyo·e prints-all had their genesis and reached a heady first flowering in one or two generations provided a natural justification for a specialization in this era. Equally enticing were the parallels of this golden age with the contemporary world: The affluence, intense urbanity, and liberated exuberance of the Genroku ethos found a sympathetic resonance in the conditions of early-nineteenthcentury Edo. Ogino Baiu in his biography piously insists: "the Master would always say, 'I detest coral gemstones and stone lanterns.' This, too, was a result of his aversion to novel baubles and curios.''1 Existing evidence, however, suggests that, from an early age, antiquities and novelties exerted a powerful attraction for Tanehiko. The diaries in particular provide numerous illustrations of the depth and scope of this fascination. There is no mention of the young man's participation in any formal association of curio fanciers, and yet a number of antiques and relics do pass through his hands. He makes an observation on the high price a style of hand-washing basin now commands; has a friend sketch a water container in the shape of a crane, found in a writing kit imported from Nanking; and records in minute detail the particulars of a sword. 2 Of greater fascination for Tanehiko than any tangible objects, however, are intangibles: words, anecdotes, and odd facts he encounters in his everyday life. Anecdotes about life in contemporary Edo-the death

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

99

of a wine merchant by uncanny "weasel slashes," a ghostly rider in white apparel spotted over the Ryogoku Bridge-appear with regularity.3 Not all observations of urban life in the diaries are anecdotal: Tanehiko describes a rosary manufactured from twine by a pious prisoner during his detention, and resolves to sketch the object in his diary some day; he describes a machine for mass-producing large quantities of medicinal tablets; and comments on the unusual tail-shaped finial decoration atop the Igakkan, or shogunal medical academy. 4 Curious words and phrases delight young Tanehiko no end. His lexicographical digressions in the diaries cover such widely assorted topics as the idiom kuchi ga suku natta "repeated at tedious length," terms for a woman's bald spot precipitated by chignons drawn overly tightly, and the name pokonpokon for a glass toy. 5 Unusual words for varieties of gems, soups, mushrooms, and painter's supplies are copied with loving precision from a children's primer of 1648. 6 Should the final character p~ in personal names ending in -emon have a dot in it or no? A friend assures Tanehiko that the dotted variant was common in the 1670s, and the punctilious author makes a note to himself to investigate the matter with care. 7 Tanehiko's especial fondness for the Genroku period emerges most vividly in the readings recorded for the diary years, where classical or contemporary titles hardly figure at all. Early-seventeenth-century kanazoshi works are not well represented: The oldest printed text to pass through Tanehiko's hands is a 1658 impression of the hanashibon (joke book) Seisuisho (Awakening to the sound of laughter; first edition ca. 1635). Urbane ukiyozoshi, primarily publications of the Hachimonjiya, however, are the undisputed favorites among all prose works. Puppetjoruri texts, equally, consistently engage the author's attention. No examples of "old joruri," that is, plays prior to 1686, appear on the reading list. Predictably, plays by Chikamatsu dominate the joruri readings and account for at least 11 of the 30 play titles mentioned in the diaries; the plays of Chikamatsu's rival, Ki no Kaion (1663-1742), trail in a distant second. Also of interest is the fact that virtually all Chikamatsu dramas mentioned in the diaries-whether because of relative accessibility, current esteem, numerical preponderance in Chikamatsu's oeuvre, or Tanehiko's own choice is unclear-are examples of jidai-mono (historical

100

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

pieces) rather than the sewa-mono (domestic pieces) upon which Chikamatsu's fame largely rests today. For young Tanehiko, reading and note taking were inseparable operations. Far more frequent than any intimation of the satisfaction a work has afforded him are notations in the diaries of this or that picayune detail that has caught his attention, or that might prove useful in some later compilation. The narrative of Tsukushi kiko (A journey to Kyushu) yields the text of the haikai poet Mukai Kyorai's (1651-1704) memorial stele, as well as details on the courtesans of Muronozu in Harima. 8 Tanehiko duly notes highlights of Chirizuka no dan (Colloquies on the rubbish heap, 1814), a recent miscellany of epochal and trivial occurrences in Edo, as he prepares a digest of the work for a friend. 9 In August 1808, a convalescent Tanehiko staves off boredom by reading the first book of the Man'yoshu: "Today read Book One of Man'yoshu. On p. 27, poem about wasuregai [shell of forgetfulness]; on p. 26, poem about going to China, must have gone during the days of [Abe no] Nakamaro. Should ch~ck." 10 Tanehiko approaches the Man'yoshu much as he would a seventeenth-century anthology of haikai verse: For him it is no repository of uncontaminated native essence, nor is it a model for archaic poetic diction, but simply a source of data. Of greatest interest to him in the two poems (respectively I:68 by Mutobe no Okimi and I:62 by Kasuga no Kurabito Oyu, to use the modern numbering) is their value as sources of philological or historical data. In a like vein, while continuing the Man'yoshu two days later, Tanehiko remarks: "I realized for the first time upon seeing the characters for kokoronaku [cruelly, thoughtlessly] in the Man'yoshu that ... [text defective] ... " 11 The work has a primary value to him as an artifact rather than as a literary monument. These same personal interests, the diaries make abundantly clear, were also central in the young author's socializing. His close friendships with Nishihara Shunko (1761-1844), a retainer to the Yanagawa han of northern Kyushu, and with Obayashi Utaki (1778-1862), a fellow hatamoto, are cemented by a constant exchange of rare printed materials from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Utaki in particular favors Tanehiko with the loan of such rarities as ukiyozoshi from the Hachimonjiya publishing house or Saikaku's Koshoku ichidai otoko (Life of an amorous man, 1682),12

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

101

An avid interest in the day-to-day artifacts and culture of the early Edo period was not an obsession peculiar to Tanehiko but was the common concern of increasing numbers of writers throughout the nineteenth century. Though never organized into formal schools or lineages, the "antiquarian movement," for want of a better term, owed much to the methods and premises of the two most dynamic contemporary scholastic disciplines, dissident or "fundamentalist" Sinology and Kokugaku nativist studies. Like its established scholastic counterparts, the nascent "antiquarian movement" selected a specific model age in the past as the object of urgent concern; chose to elucidate its cultural values through literary artifacts; and insisted on exhaustive textual and linguistic criticism of these written artifacts as the sole avenue of approach to the authentic spirit of the earlier age. Unlike the idealistic factions of Sinology and Kokugaku, however, which exalted a remote era of agrarian sage-kings and legendary culture-heroes, late Edo antiquarianism set its sights just beyond living memory, in the most urban of settings. Its canonical texts, no hoary annals of monarchs and numinaries, were the most humble and trivial publications of the hour. And, where formal scholarship consistently emphasized the enduring moral or spiritual qualities of its early paragons, the late Edo antiquarian movement remained morally neutral and drew no ethical lessons from its ideal age. The charm of the past was, presumably, sufficient justification for the conservator. A pioneer of the movement, and certainly the model for young Tanehiko's own antiquarian efforts, was Santo Kyoden (1761-1816). Though passionately fond of old prints in his early years, Kyoden, according to Bakin's patronizing biography, !wade mo no ki (Things needless to relate, 1820), was by nature anything but bookish, and borrowed more volumes than he purchased. 13 After his trial and punishment in 1791 for the authorship of unacceptable sharebon titles, however, Kyoden in middle age forsook entirely the frivolities of sharebon and turned his attention to the less controversial yomihon format and to the academic pursuit of the recent past. "Chinese studies are beyond me at this point," Bakin reports Kyoden's reflection, "and of late there have been many noteworthy scholars involved in Kokugaku; there, too, I cannot match up. But nobody has studied in depth the manners and customs of the past two hundred years. When I discuss these

102

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

curios, the Confucianists cannot take it amiss, and Kokugaku scholars will be flushed with admiration."14 Kyoden's first compilation, the primarily biographical Kinsei kiseki ko (Observations on recent items of note, 1804), defined the boundaries of the new discipline, and set a precedent for exhaustive and meticulous documentation. A favorable reception for this work induced Kyoden to undertake an antiquarian miscellany on a far grander scale in the following decade. The first installments of Kottoshu (Collection of curios) appeared in 1814; more follow~d in early 1816, but the ep.cyclopedic undertaking remained only partially complete, cut short by th~ compiler's death in October. "While it did not exactly send the price of paper in the city soaring," Bakin comments with finely honed sarcasm, "not a few curio fanciers treasured the production." 15 It is unclear whether Tanehiko was personally acquainted with Kyoden. The third diary, as we have seen, notes that Kyoden, his brother Kyozan, and a constellation of other literary and artistic figures attended Enba's hanashizome convocation in February 1810. Had the two figures spoken at intermission, it would have been a curious study in contrasts petween the prim, reserved young man and the 50-year-old Kyoden, whose towering reputation was perhaps equal parts genius and scandal. In their common fascination for the ephemera of a bygone era, however, the two would have found an ideal middle ground for conversation. Tanehiko's conscious debt to Kyoden is evident in the structure and choice of subjects for his own miscellanies: His first published compilation, Kankonshiryo, includes a number of distinctive topics-false beards, hozuki bladder-cherry toys, the legend of Shushiki's cherry tree at Ueno-already treated by Kyoden, while a notebook of 1821 contains the draft of 20 pages of addenda to KottOshu. 16 While no detailed records remain to chronicle reading or collecting habits after the final diary entries of 1816, the scattered volumes of Tanehiko's studio provide some suggestion of the unflagging intensity of his antiquarian and bibliographic pursuits. Quantities of manuscripts and printed texts still bear the marks of having passed through Tanehiko's library. At times there is merely an ex libris seal: Kono nushi ukiyobon-kaki Tanehiko (This work belongs to Tanehiko, author of ukiyozoshi)-fitting self-designation for one whose interests ran over-

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

103

whelmingly to the Genroku period. 17 Other texts contain records of the date and circumstances of purchase. Additional information about the work and its author sometimes occupies an entire paragraph on the end papers. Most elaborate are manuscripts of the works Tanehiko has chosen to recopy, which generally incorporate an appended summary of textual history, or the manuscripts of the works Tanehiko has scrut.nized in detail, which bristle with red tickmarks and personal marginalia. To judge by the extant dated inscriptions, this bibliophile activity was at its most frenetic in the 1820s, when, presumably, income from the regular production of gokan titles provided ready capital. Indications are, however, that the book collecting mania was well established during Tanehikds twenties, and continued until his death. (A genial, though unsubstantiated anecdote from the Taisho period relates that the author's greatest pleasure was to statiop. himself in full formal attire, samurai swords at his side, in the middle of a favorite bookstore, and while away entire days among musty volumes.) 18 A few examples of these book inscriptions will suggest the diligence with which Tanehiko approached his avocation. These citations are, admittedly, factual and dry, but they intimate a human presence more vividly than any other remaining documents save the diaries and letters. Some inscriptions are terse: The inscription to the haikai work Cha hyakushu (One hundred playful verses) reads: ''Printed 1642. Purchased at 0Kuramae in Asakusa, 29th day of the 3rd month, spring 1820. Rylitei Tanehiko."19 Another laconic inscription to another haikai collection, Haikai sakurakagami (Haikai cherry blossom mirror, 1734?): "Collection [commemorating] the transplanting of cherry trees from Yoshiwara into precincts of Asakusa Kannon temple, printed 1734. Rylitei Tanehiko."20 The inscriptions frequently make mention of Tanehikds own experiences with the work: My late friend Torinoumi Shotei once. mentioned Hassui zuihitsu [Eight rivers miscellany] to me. According to him, it was written by a certain Edo Castle guardsman around the Kyoho or Genbun period [1716-1741], but was only a brief work. He selected a passage-on the selling of one smoke of tobacco for one cash-and sent the excerpt to me. Now in the 4th month of 1820, I have obtained the complete work. This manuscript must be in the author's own hand.21

104

"Old Scraps and Pieces~'

Or this passage, a postscript to Yoshiwara Genji gojushi-kun, (Fifty-four courtesans of a Yoshiwara Genji, 1687), in which textual and personal history are closely intertwined: Old man Ryutei adds as a postscript: I first saw this work thirty years ago at the home of the late Danshuro [Utei Enba]. They tell me that the original is in Mitani or some such place. In the collections of my friends, I have seen what appear to be recopyings at three or four removes from the original. But I was eager to see some remnants of Kikaku's original calligraphy for myself, and made a personal tracing facsimile of it in the spring of 1839. The illustrations had been reproduced by some exceptionally careless individual, and there were many curious and indistinct portions. The work makes no mention of the illustrator's name, but Danshu[ro] asserted that it was Moronobu.

*

*

*

TenpO 11:8:24 [19 September 1840]. By chance I came across the text I had seen at Danshuro's thirty years ago, and used it to correct errors I had made in my previous copy. Passages marked with a circle herein denote this source text. I refer to it as an "original text," although in fact [all variants are?] the same title. 22

More intriguing are the inscriptions in which Tanehiko discusses the work at hand, or his reactions to it, at some length. An example is the postscript to Jenna shoishu (Collection to laugh at and discard from the Tenna period, ? ): Could this have been written in imitation of Musashi-abumi? The passage on Sakai-cho in chapter 6 is more detailed than that in Edo-banashi; the passage on flower-viewing at Shinobazu Pond in U eno, interestingly, resembles that in Murasaki no hitomoto. Might this book be by [Toda] Mosui? The author probably made a rough draft of the work at the time of the Great Tenna Fire [of 1683], and made a clean version of it with occasional emendations during the Jokyo period [1684-1688]. 25th day of 2nd month, 1823. Ryntei Tanehiko.23

Tanehiko delights to play the literary detective, as in this inscription to

[Haikat] Shichihyakugoju-in (750 rounds of haikai exchange): This was in an open-air stall behind the Seido Hall in Kanda, Edo, on the 1st day of the 8th Month, 1821. ''In the first round of exchange," [the bookseller commented,] "'Confucian Hall' is linked to a verse on Mt. Hiei. It must be a haikai work from the days when the Seido Hall here was still back in Ueno." And so I purchased it, but in fact the compositions are only from the

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

105

Enpo period [1673-1681]. The calligraphy style is inappropriate-too recent. Could it have been engraved at a later date, or printed later from blocks handed down in the publishing company?24 .

Tanehikds hunch is partially correct, since the work in question was published in 1681. Since the Seido complex was not moved to its present location in Yushima until 1690, however, the bookseller's insistence is not misleading. This bibliographic expertise was early to develop. One of the earliest extant book inscriptions, from Tanehikds mid-twenties, demonstrates youthful confidence in identifying the haikai collection Toba renge (Toba lotus flower; preface date 1695), as well as wonderment at the preservative power of the written word: The calligraphy in this work is by Kikaku. Between 1695 and the present year, 1807, 113 years have passed. The preface is by Awazu no Dojin; the postscript Shigi tatsu sawa ni hi wo tachitaru is in the style of Sanzen, and is in his own hand.

At a later date, a more mature Tanehiko crossed out this observation, and by its side added a humorless corrective: This work not in Kikaku's hand. Calligraphy is by a professional copyist of the Izutsuya [publishing house], and so [work is by] an ordinary Kyoto copyist. -Tanehiko.2s

The care Tanehiko lavished on his collection extended even to repairs. In an inscription to Moichi nochi no senku (One thousand further verses by Moichi, 1667), he writes: My late master preserved the cover to this work in a transcribed copy he owned, and so there was a cover in existence. But when I purchased this printed text, its cover was in poor condition, and I replaced it with a new one. Hence the postscript that follows.

In black ink, then: I borrowed the printed edition [of this work] from a friend, and had it reproduced by a professional copyist. I have proofread [the resulting copy] two or three times against the original, but can find no discrepancies. The pagination is as in the original. Proofreading completed by lamplight this evening of the 13th day of the 4th month, summer 1819. -Ryntei Tanehiko. 26

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

106

The preservation of the past was not merely for professional satisfaction, but had a grander objective. Here are the comments Tanehiko makes to a Muromachi period miscellany, Fuji no hitoana (Fuji's magic cavern; first printed 1607): This work should be termed a variant of Hitoana soshi, for it differs from the extant 1661 printed text [of Hitoana soshi]. This book is an older work, of the Muromachi period; it is useful for antiquarian investigations into the names of weapons, and so forth. The terms "figured hitatare" and "mist-trailing hitatare" are not to be found in the printed edition, so it is a manuscript to be treasured. The copy is all of 222 years old, reckoning from 1607 to 1828. Ryiitei Tanehiko of Shitaya in Edo. [seal]

And as an addendum: This book was written on "chick" paper, folded in quarto, and originally had a Yamato-style binding. The binding had split, however, and the pages had come out of order, so it was very difficult to consult. I personally put new facing behind all the pages and made it once again a complete book. Men of generations to come, consider my labors, and do not discard this for scrap paper. Purchased in Hatagomachi, 0-Kuramae, Asakusa. Around 1821.27

Solicitude for future generations also figures in the more florid postscript to the miscellany Edo chiribiroi (Retrieving the dust of Edo; author's preface 1767): I have no notion who wrote Edo chiribiroi, and yet I spent a leisurely day correcting incorrect characters and supplementing the author's omissions. He writes of things present and past; his day is already behind us by sixty years and more. Will this work prove an aid to those many years hence who, like me, love what is old? Amusing indeed, to assist a man of old who did not realize that one should admit all true explanations, regardless of the clumsy way in which they may be couched. Summer 1823. -Ryiitei Tanehiko. Tamagawa no uchi mizu suzushi Edo no chiri

Cool are the waters within the confines of the Tama River, yet how dusty Edo!2 8

A true bibliophile, Tanehiko willingly extended the benefits of his labors to all with similar interests. Tanehisa kiko (Tanehisa's travel jour-

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

107

nal, 1617) describes a journey from Yanagawa in Kyushu to Kyoto and then on to Edo. A copy generated from a Tanehiko copy contains the following subscription: I own in my house what appears to be the autograph manuscript by the author of this travel journal, and felt inclined to show it to others who share my fascination with such things. The manuscript, however, is written on both sides of "chick" paper in a minute hand. The possibility that the passage of time might damage the text further and render additional passages illegible distressed me, and I recopied the whole so there could be no discrepancies. If, upon a third or a fourth recopying, there should be uncertain passages, the party concerned should come to my house for direct editorial proofreading. Be he a close acquaintance or a stranger, I shall let him consult the original at any time. -Ryutei Tanehiko. 29

The end result of all this browsing, borrowing, recopying, and acquisition was what must have been one of the largest private libraries in Edo. In reconstructing the contents of this collection, we are fortunate to possess an inventory listing of titles, possibly compiled by the author's widow. 30 The listing as it stands today is badly mutilated, and there is no way of determining its comprehensiveness. It fails to mention the Kokinshu, Genji monogatari, or the titles enumerated in the preface to the third chapter of Inaka Genji-all works we can surmise to have been in the author's possession. As it stands, however, the list enumerates 1,138 titles in 1,770 separate satsu, or bound units. An extrapolation based on the average number of titles per page and the number of pages torn or missing from the booklet yields a probable total of some 1,530 titles in the original inventory. Though perhaps not on the same order of magnitude as Bakin's library (which, it is said, caused the foundations of his house in Iidamachi to subside from excessive strain), by any standard it is an impressive accumulation. 31 There are occasional indications of a rough classification in the catalog, but for the most part the titles follow one another without any particular rationale. One notes immediately, however, a paucity of Chinese works. Only a few basic Chinese classics (for example, the Analects and Mencius, Tso chuan , Kuo yu, Chuang Tzu) find their way into the listing; aside from the hoary Yu hsien k'u (Cavern of disporting immortals), a mildly risque T'ang novella, there are virtually no Chinese fiction titles

108

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

on the listing. The abbreviated titles make certain identification difficult, but there are equally few works by contemporary gesaku authors. On the positive side of the balance, the Tanehiko collection is especially strong in Heian classics, "old" joruri and joruri by Chikamatsu, as well as materials pertaining to the Old and New Yoshiwara pleasure quarters. There are huge numbers of haikai anthologies and manuals, although, oddly, the major Basho collections do not appear. A large arsenal of dictionaries and lexicons is perhaps to be expected in the library of any writer, but Tanehikds reference collection also includes an extensive assortment of meishoki (gazetteers) of individual provinces, compilations replete with local legends and anecdotes in addition to more conventional topographical data. Zuihitsu miscellanies, maps, and chronicles of Edo are well represented; Kyoden's Kottoshu is present. It is clear that Tanehiko was attempting to acquire a full set of Saikaku's fictional and poetic works, to judge by the solidity of their representation: at least 15 of the canonical two dozen Saikaku ukiyozoshi figure on the list. In addition to the simple acquisition of materials and studious assimilation of their contents, Tanehiko turned his attention to the active, synthetic use of his texts. The resulting book lists, notebook collations of citations and parallels, and ultimately published miscellanies and monographs are, from a modern perspective, disappointingly lacking in personality or subjective opinion, and devoid of any schematization or abstraction. For detail and accuracy, though, the compilations are still remarkable; their authoritativeness remains high. Even if Tanehiko never had generated a line of fiction, his achievements in this field would have perpetuated his name. A first product of this marshaling of material was specialized bibliographical lists. A bibliography of works pertaining to the Yoshiwara prostitution quarter contains 54 items; a listing of koshokubon (amatory books)-pornography, romantic novellas, manuals for would-be gallants, discourses on the relative merits of homosexual and heterosexual attachments reviews 118 distinct titles; an inventory of haikai works in the author's personal collection designates more than 270 items. 32 The Genroku bias of the listings is everywhere apparent: The most recent items of the Yoshiwara bibliography are from the Hoei period (1704-1711),

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

109

while the latest koshokubon is only from 1704. While it is obvious from the appended comments that Tanehiko has read or skimmed many of the titles he lists, he remains purely a cataloguer here; subjective appraisal of content rarely exceeds the level of "amusing" or "unamusing book." The compiler displays the greatest acuity, however, in dating works by internal allusions, or in ascribing authorship on the basis of style. Koshoku gonin onna (Five amorous women, 1686), for example, he relegates to an apocryphal status, however closely its style resembles Saikaku's.33 From about 10 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon on 19 May 1818, if we may believe the postscript, Tanehiko compiled a listing of puppet-joruri drama titles as a gift for a friend. 34 The list attempts an exhaustive survey of all titles from Jokyo 1/1684-1685, the year of Takemoto Gidayii's {1651-1714) premiere productions at the Takemoto-za theater, through Kyoho 9/1724-1725, the year of Chikamatsu's death. By a code of blank or filled-in circles above the titles, the compiler denotes whether the work is in his personal library, is a work he has read but does not own, or whether he has never read it. Another code symbol indicates a work Tanehiko believes can be ascribed without question to Chikamatsu. By my count, the list contains 203 titles: 41 never seen by Tanehiko, 4 read but not owned, and 158 in his personal library. Works by Chikamatsu number 84-41 percent of the entire listing-and 77 of these Chikamatsu works are in Tanehiko's possession-some 49 percent of the joruri titles designated as Tanehiko's possessions. This listing, like the others already noted, dwells on details of authorship, date of first staging, title variants, and so forth, and omits any personal assessments. Its value as a pioneering monument of Chikamatsu scholarship, however, cannot be overlooked. These fragmentary notes and bibliographies are overshadowed by the longer antiquarian compilations of Tanehiko's maturity, most notably the published anthologies Kankonshiryo (Scraps of rag paper, 1827) and Yosha·hako (Ditty box, 1841). In addition to these two published zui· hitsu miscellanies, there exist numerous lesser compilations, never printed during the author's lifetime. The formal published works, however, in which we may hope to discern the perfection of Tanehiko's antiquarian vocation, command our first attention.

110

ecoid Scraps and Pieces"

According to the author's postscript, the manuscript of Kankonshiryo achieved completion in spring of 1824; publication was delayed, for whatever reason, until January 1827.35 Unlike the fictional works of Tanehiko, invariably marketed through a single "popular" publisher in Edo, the colophon to the work indicates simultaneous sales through seven "serious" publishing houses in Kyoto and Osaka as well as Edo. The primary Edo retailer and probable publisher, Suharaya Mohei/ Senshobo, was one of the oldest and brightest stars in the Edo publishing firmament, celebrated above all for maps of Edo and annual bukan directories of samurai officialdom. No lesser an illustrator than Hokusai contributed illustrations and reproductions for the pages of the work. 36 The concluding page of the compilation carries the signature "Tanehiko, Master of the Willow Pavilion," and the familiar cubical Mitsuhiko seal leaves no doubt as to the author's identity. The preface to the work, however, is signed Sokushin'o "Old man who has sufficient kindling" -a new sobriquet. Like Kyoden, Tanehiko may have wished to dissociate this serious venture from his frivolous fictional output by adopting a new name-much, we may suppose, to the publisher's consternation, for whom the name ''Ryutei" had instant marketability. The odd title, glossed Kankonshiryo in a contemporary advertisement, appears as Sukikaeshi or Sukigaeshi in the running title of the original edition. Sukigaeshi-literally, "strained and rendered back"-referred to any sort of paper reconstituted from old scraps of wastepaper. Originally the term had been reserved for the paper resulting from the boiling of a deceased individual's personal letters and documents-an ideal material for the transcription of sutras or requiem prayers. By the nineteenth century, sukigaeshi had come to refer to any variety of cheap and often malodorous "recycled" stock, generally destined for decidedly unspiritual uses in the privy or boudoir. Eighteenth-century kusazoshi publishers, too, used cheap sukigaeshi in their lines of "pulp'' akahon or kibyoshi.J7 The title, conventionally self-deprecating, is particularly apt for a "decoction'' of the ephemeral publications of decades past. In briefest summary, Kankonshiryo comprises detailed discussions of 28 topics in 2 books. The topics represent the most varied fields of interest: theater and music, costume, hair styles, proverbs, toys and games, fes-

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

111

tivals, and legends. The entries share little beyond their common concern with a specifically urban, popular cultural milieu, and their chronological adherence to the Edo period-more narrowly, to the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. No order or progression is apparent. The second book, for example, jumps abruptly from an exposition of Tanabata festival dances to signs once used by merchants of parched rice and vinegar, then chats about noodles and slang terms for balding men, kabuki actors and ballads of the 1650s, hozuki whistles carved from bladder-cherries, and the price of a rented pipe of tobacco. Though presumably some of the topics were recent enough to warrant the use of interviews or verbal authority, Tanehiko's sources are entirely written: Old dictionaries, gazetteers, above all old ukiyozoshi fiction and haikai collections dominate his documentation. Yosha-bako-literally, "box for scraps to be used or discarded," or perhaps "box for items meriting indulgent dismissal" -was the second published antiquarian miscellany. 38 Although somewhat longer and slightly more inclined toward what now would pass as socio-linguistics and folklore study, it is virtually identical to Kankonshiryo in format. The diverse contents range at will from discussions of games, children's songs, and cosmetics to underworld slang, signboards, and early printed joruri texts. The documentary sources parallel those of Kankonshiryo, though citations from old haikai collections dominate to such an extent that a later edition was renamed Haikai yosha-bako. 39 Like Kankonshiryo, Yosha-bako was retailed through numerous dealers (10) in the three major cities, but among them prominently, again, the firm of Suharaya Mohei/Senshobo. The work first appeared in 1841, while Inaka Genji still reigned triumphant. It had been Tanehiko's first inclination, if we may lend credence to the foreword, not to put his name to the work at all; the brief preface, in fact, is unsigned: I am a warrior of the East, but despite my mature years can neither shoot with a bow nor ride. I am stubborn by nature, and have no close friends. These old scraps and pieces I copied out to beguile the tedium of rainy days, when droplets spattered down from the eaves. If there are one or two passages worth noting, then copy them; the rest you may shred and toss away-hence the name Yosha-bako.4°

112

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

The publisher laughed at this unwarranted display of humility. "You have composed any number of kusazoshi," Tanehiko reports his counsel, "and your name is known, if superficially, to the masses. People will buy any work by an author of repute, regardless of whether its theories are true or false. Who will buy it if there is no name to it?" Tanehiko yielded to superior commercial wisdom, and his conventional literary name appears on a title page.4t Why did Tanehiko compile these works, and for whom? ''Personal interest" alone would not account for the detail and care of the unpublished works, still less for the scope of published specimens. Tanehiko, as always, is niggardly in self-revelation. To preface a discussion of varieties of zukin head-scarves through the ages in R:yiUei hikki (Ryutei memoranda), an unpublished collection, he intones: ''Alas, how dreadfully have we declined! Formerly men would wear [zukin] in great secrecy, fully conscious of their impropriety, and others would not hesitate to censure them. Nowadays, however, men wear them quite openly. It is most lamentable."42 This Ciceronian condemnation of current depravity and exaltation of artifacts of the past provides a kind of justification for the exposition of artifacts of the past (a 12-page catalog of head" scarves follows). The same reactionary tone rarely recurs in the collections, however; even in this Ryutei hikki passage it is hard to think that Tanehiko is altogether serious. Nostalgia, equally, seems an unlikely motivation. The relentlessly sober, matter-of-fact tone of the compilations gives no intimation of approval or disapproval, while contrasts with nineteenth-century artifacts or conditions are few and far between. Personal recollection seldom if ever colors the discussion. 43 Even the minimal prefaces and editorial statements in Kyoden's miscellanies are absent in those of Tanehiko. And yet it is not unreasonable to suppose that Tanehiko was to some degree a partisan of the "education-for-the-masses" principles enunciated by Kyoden. 44 In the prefatory comments to Yosha-bako, Tanehiko remarks that he has used simplified forms for certain complicated characters to ease the lot of the engraver as well as to render his text more accessible to women and children. 45 The presence of advertisements for the antiquarian miscellanies within the body of mass-oriented fictional works suggests that the publisher or author nurtured hopes that there would be some community of reader-

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

113

ship. Ensconced within the text of Karigane kon'ya-saku no hayazome (Fast dyeing by the wild goose dyer's design, 1826), for example, we find the following notice: A word from Tanehiko: My zuihitsu collection Kankonshiryo, which you will find mentioned in the publisher's list at the conclusion, reproduces many old diagrams and illustrations. It is a fine book, written exclusively in the common language [lit. the vulgar words] of olden days, and should be easy even for maidservants and children to understand. This year ... [text illegible] ... and I humbly request that you purchase and read it. 46

Kankonshiryo appeared at the very end of Bunsei 9/1826-1827, and was still in the presses when this announcement appeared in spring 1826. The compilations, then, were not the exclusive property of a rarefied group of connoisseurs and cognoscenti-much as their forbidding detail on fan rivets or lantern construction might lead us to suspect otherwise-but were intended for a broad buying public. Apart from formal antiquarian compilations, it is perhaps surprising to find Tanehiko applying his extensive knowledge of the past to the behests of commercial advertising. Like most gesaku authors and ukiyo-e artists of his day, Tanehiko was to some degree a "brush for hire," ready and willing to produce handbills, brochures, and promotional materials for virtually any client (the phenomenon is even more conspicuous among Meiji gesaku writers). Most of this customized output has been lost. These ephemeral notices, like almanacs and playbills, were never intended to last. (For that matter, it is far from impossible to argue that the bulk of gesaku fiction was intended for ephemeral consumption, and that it is only our proximity to the nineteenth century that has kept these works from oblivion.) Some of this advertising does survive, however, to suggest the highly original approach Tanehiko adopted in this most pedestrian use of language. Yanagi no itokuzu (Willow filaments, 1837) bears a preface by Ryutei Senka and was probably Senka's brainchild.47 This slight collection of 15 hikifuda, or advertising handbills, by Tanehiko extols the merits of such varied enterprises as breweries, purveyors of eel and confectionery, gourmet restaurants, drapers, and excursion-boat organizers. In the preview "blurb" at the end of the text, the publisher promises a companion

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

114

volume of further gleanings from the Willow Pavilion, including gasan painting inscriptions and kyobun (mad prose), but this plan was never realized. The reader may judge the contents of the compilation by this representative excerpt, in praise of Kogetsu-brand beauty rinse: Women should have a dazzling fair complexion-and as proof, just think how beauties are praised by comparisons to white jade or to snow. But some women are, by nature, sallow or dark. The sallow woman can borrow the hues of safflower or of [? word illegible] rouge and mask her pallor, but the darker woman who tries to conceal her complexion with powder wins the unflattering designations of "starchface" or "bark cloth." The sorrier her lot! But just when all seems most hopeless-lo! a marvelous beauty rinse, its formula a secret in the family for generations. Simply mix it with bran and apply it: Your complexion will become fair and display a healthy sheen. It cures blemishes, freckles, and psoriasis; congenital birthmarks and the like gradually fade and finally disappear. It tightens the grain of the skin, and thus eliminates the danger of sunburn in summer or chapping in winter. To enumerate all its virtues would require more than 50 paragraphs-hence the name, suggestive [of the more than 50 chapters] of Genji. We think there is nothing quite like this beauty rinse! And so, borrowing the character tsuki [moon] from Oborozukiyo, we have called it Kogetsu ''Lake Moon." Ah, if only this excellent remedy had existed in those days! The cr&pelike wrinkles of Gen no N aishi would have reverted to the fresh appearance of young Murasaki -and Suetsumu certainly would not have given cause to any rumors about a red nose. The chapter title ''Hatsune'' [for the first warblings of spring makes us think of nightingales,] but we scrupulously avoid the use of any filth like nightingale dung in the product. Instead we manufacture it in conditions of utmost purity, using camphor and musk [fragrant as] Prince Niou. This is no idle boast of mine or dream ("The Floating Bridge of Dreams"). Visit my establishment ("Yadorigi") not far from the Third Bridge [in Honjo]. I respectfully await your custom (''Matsukaze''). By the author of Inaka Genji, for the proprietor of the Matsuya. 48

f!

Playful puns or allusions to the characters and chapters of Genji monogatari were entirely appropriate for a product whose brand name echoed the title of the widely familiar Kigin commentary-and who better than the author of lnaka Genji to emphasize the association? The efficacy of this handbill in promoting the rinse-probably an unsavory mixture of starch, boric acid, and sodium bicarbonate-is not recorded, although the text, set to shamisen music, later resurfaced as a kouta ballad. 49

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

115

A few advertisements by Tanehiko survive outside Senka's Ytmagi no itokuzu compendium. One less esoteric example commends the services of a dentist, Takezawa Toji-probably the same Takezawa Toji celebrated for jugglery and prestidigitation in the 1850s and 1860s: COMPLETE DENTAL CARE Manufacturer of dentures for men and women Takezawa Toji-At the base of Toei Hill, Ueno Our teeth, we are told, are the root of our longevity; for this reason, the character (tooth) sometimes has been read yowai (age). And in the Classic of Mountains and Seas, Japan is called, I believe, the "Land of the BlackToothed Men." A prince has the title of oshiba (multiple tooth); he begins the celebrations of the new year with the "tooth-hardening" ceremony. One writes the word shida (fern) with the characters(§~ (dentate bouquet). We compare the teeth of beautiful women to shells; from a horse's teeth we learn its age. The expression "He doesn't cover his teeth in silk" refers to direct, frank talk; the vulgar expression "He doesn't show white teeth" means that the individual in question does not coddle with indulgence. Thanks to the support [lit. teeth] of our clogs, we keep our feet from becoming soiled in the rain; carts loaded down heavily, rumbling off to distant places, do so with the strength of both wheel rims [lit. teeth]. And many indeed are the inanimate objects that use teeth to perform their functions: sidelock combs, rice hackles, ash rakes, and saws, to name only the most obvious. How much more invaluable are teeth to human beings! There is surely nothing as precious as the teeth. Even young children feel pain when they lose a loose tooth as the result of some fit or when they bite down on a pebble mixed in with their food. Great problems arise from small. If you seek out my remedy immediately, however, there will be no further distress. I shall provide you with medicines according to your temperament, reset wobbling teeth, remove blood from gums and stop the ache, or remove without the least hint of pain extruding, crooked, overlapping, decayed teeth and "hammer teeth." In their place I shall fit you with a replacement of real tooth, carved boxwood, alabaster, fishbone-the substance of your choice, manufactured by a special technique transmitted to me alone in my family to fit well, without irritation to the gums. You will be able to bite through, if you wish, the pit of a pickled plum, or tear apart undercooked morsels of cuttlefish. The workmanship is guaranteed for a lifetime, and I shall arrange easy terms of payment. This clumsy prose, grafting a Takezawa [''Bamboo swamp'') to a tree [the willow of "Rylltei''), was written for the proprietor at and according to his request by Ryatei Tanehiko.so

tiJ

116

'Old Scraps and Pieces"

The second half of the handbill radiates confidence and sure salvation in tones immediately familiar from modern advertising; one almost covets the ailments described, in order to experience the blissfulness of their undoing. The language is direct and plain-apart from the lexical problems of the "hammer teeth" and the ominous allusion to children's ":fits." In the :first half of the text, however, the antiquarian spirit and gesaku esprit work in tandem to provide a mock-serious catalog of almost every possible historical and contemporary usage of the word and character ha ~ (tooth). Here Tanehikds own fanciful pedantry holds center stage, and the painless dentist is relegated to the wings. One of the most elaborate of all handbills composed by Tanehiko advertises nori, comestible dried seaweed of the Asakusa district-as valuable a souvenir of modern Tokyo as it was of nineteenth-century Edo. The following text, commissioned by the firm of Nakajimaya Heizaemon, bears no date, although the illustration accompanying the text contains a signature by "the Crazy Old Man at age 82," that is, by Katsushika Hokusai in 1841. 51 The use of plain indigo ink alone in the illustration suggests that the handbill appeared after the first Tenpo sumptuary laws against multicolored prints. All remarks rendered in parentheses are by Tanehiko himself. KELP FOR YOUR TABLE Nakajimaya HeizaemonTawaramachi 3-chome, Asakusa How greatly does it prosper! Think of its morning Kannon, its evening cherry blossoms. It swarms with visitors during its year-end fairs, until the snowy conclusion to the year-to say nothing of its bustle during the spring. When we look at busy Asakusa today, it hardly seems possible that nori was produced here once. But two hundred years ago, apparently, houses were spread far apart from one another. In the preface to Azuma monogatari (blocks cut 1642), we read that roofing tiles were fired in Torigoe. (This explains why Kawara-cho ["Tile district"], an extension of Kaya-cho, still preserves this name.) And in the final chapter of Shikionron (printed 1643), we read that at Komakata there were twin rows of cherry trees, which blossomed in such wild profusion as to surpass the blossoms on the peaks of Yoshino. There can be no doubt that the banks of the Miyato [Sumida] River were exceptionally clear of undergrowth, and that it was a district well suited for the production of kelp. With the passage of time, the area, too, flourished:

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

117

Eaves of houses formed a continuous line, and roof beams crisscrossed. We can prove that kelp was produced there as recently as one hundred years ago by the following verse of Giku [Inazu Giku, 1663-1734], contained in Kyoraikon (blocks carved 1733): Nagaruru ya kore mo yo wataru hashiba nori

Does it still flow? This, too, a livelihood, this kelp by the bridge.

The name ·~sakusa non?' appears in the phrase ·~sakusa nori and roasted fish" of Ryori monogatari (printed 1643). And in Kefukigusa (composed in the Kan'ei period [1624-1644], engraved in the Shoho period [1644-1648]), in the enumeration of the specialty products of each province, for Shimosa province we read: ''Kasai nori, also known as Asakusa nort''-although here it is impossible to tell whether this is an outright error or whether it refers to some product blended with strains from Kasai. Be that as it may, we may divine from the appearance of the words ·~sa­ kusa non'' in texts as old as the Kan'ei period [1624-1644] that our family had begun its operation in this neighborhood by the Genna period [1615-1624]. Perhaps because of our frugality in this earliest period-our thatched roof, our simple marsh-reed screen enclosures-we long enjoyed the special preferment [of the shogun], and became a prosperous, reputable establishment. Grateful we are indeed that for over two hundred years we have not changed our location, nor altered the nature of our business. Even after we ceased producing kelp on this very spot, the reputation of Asakusa nori only continued to grow. With it, you make the flavors of whitebait come alive once more in the bowl; with it, plain tofu becomes [tasty as] :fishbones; the green of rice wrapped in isona wrack surpasses [in freshness] the voice of a Komatsu warbler; with it, "bay-fried thin-spitted" eel passes for fragrant ''Edo kebab." It is possible that horseradish received the alternate name "'brocade-tree' bride" because of the association with its purple color which, when cured, becomes green. Some relish it with specks of granulated black pepper atop their sheet of nori, and rank it alongside "whirlpool-wrap'' sushi riceballs or Naruto sea bream. And in fertile years, when sleet and snows fall ("Tumble, tumble, gentle snow," the children sing), many of our patrons appreciate it for the touch of sweetness it gives their greens. As a sign of our gratitude for enabling our business to prosper more with every year, [we pledge] we will not tolerate the least negligence. We shall regulate the plucking time, select the right bed, and pay great care during the summer storage, to ensure that its flavor as we present it to you is in no wise damaged. From your New Year's zoni broth to your "blossom-wraps" of buck-

118

"Old Scraps and Pieces"

wheat at year's end, we humbly request that you use our product in all four seasons, unchangingly. · For the proprietor, by Ryntei Tanehiko. 52

The handbill is a far cry from the terseness and "punch" we commonly associate with advertising; it would be difficult to imagine a prospective consumer enthralled by this curiously overwrought monograph-more lecture than commercial exhortation. Indeed, to judge by the allusions to the passing of seasons and to the new year, the text and illustration probably were not handbills as such but "premiums" for faithful customers, and provided no more than a colorful accompaniment to New Year's orders and souvenir shipments. The full panoply of documentary scholarship looms awesomely before us: etymological and geographical discussions, supported by a detailed apparatus of dates and citations; parenthetical bibliographical comments; exhaustive listings of minutiae, here culinary {to the despair of the translator). The tone is similar, and many of the quotations are in fact identical to a formal published discussion on Asakusa nori in Yosha-bako. 53 The author of the handbill only incidentally praises the quality or flavor of the product, or the uniqueness of his patron's concern; more important to him in promoting the product is its value as an authentic vestige of old Edo.

FIVE

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

Had Tanehiko died or forsworn all further composition of fiction in 1828, his name still would be remembered as a gesaku author of secondary importance. It was the phenomenal success of Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {An impostor Murasaki and a rustic Genji) in and after 1829, though, that assured his reputation among future generations of readers. The motive for the unprecedented choice of Genji monogatari as the basis for a gokan work is unknown, but there are numerous suggestions why Tanehiko made the venture at this particular time. The use of classics modernized or brought up to date in clever fashion long had been a thematic staple of kibyoshi and gokan. From the late Bunsei period {the late 1820s), perhaps because of a lack of appealing new dramatic plots, perhaps because of one ·of the inexplicable variations in reader predilections that swept over the kusazoshi world with regularity every five years or so, classics came to acquire a certain vogue as kusazoshi subjects.1 In the preface to his Fuji no suso ukare no cho-chidori (Foothills of Fuji, errant butterfly and plover; 1831), Tanehiko recapitulates the history of akahon (red book, that is, kusazosht) subjects to date: [Since the early days of giJkan] now more than ten years have elapsed. The earlier kabuki craze has yielded, changed to rewritings of Chinese novels, or even to Japanese monogatari tales as akahon fiction. Chapter follows chapter, and yet [these new works] do not come to their conclusions before many years have succeeded in their course.z

120

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

After the passing of the fad for kabuki subjects in the 1810s and the wholesale ransacking of Chinese fiction as inspirational material, now even the monogatari of Japan had become fair game for gesaku writers. One frequently repeated assertion is that the idea of a modernized Genji was urged on Tanehiko by Tsuruya Kiemon (1788?-1834), eager to bolster the dwindling assets of his publishing house, the Senkakudo. Kitamura N obuyo reports this hypothesis in a parenthetical entry to his annals of Edo, Kiki no manima ni (According to hearsay; final entry 1853): The publisher, Tsuruya of Yokoyama-cho, had run his enterprise under straitened circumstances for some time. He hit upon the idea of a kusazoshi based on Genji and commissioned Rymei to write it for him. Fortunately, Tsuruya scored a hit with it, and gained much new capital. As he continued publication and sales, he gradually became able to earn a decent livelihood. Yet, just at this juncture he was forced to forfeit his printing blocks and suffered a sudden collapse.3

The exact state of Tsuruya Kiernan's finances in the 1820s is impossible to determine, but, upon reflection, it does not seem entirely consistent that the firm would advance an experimental work, whose success was a gamble, as an antidote to financial embarrassment. The most likely reasons for the thematic selection, timing, and format of Inaka Genji may be summed up in the cardinal creative motivation behind most kusazoshi: to emulate successful precedents. In 1824, Kyokutei Bakin had published the first installments of his Konpira-bune risho no tomozuna (Life lines of grace from Konpira's boat, 1824-1831), a gokan adaptation of the Ming vernacular novel Hsi yu chi Gourney to the West). Where the usual pattern had been for authors to publish an entire gokan in a single installment and a single publishing season, Bakin attempted to introduce the greater length and scope of the yomihon to the gokan by creating a lengthy serial that would appear annually as long as its readers' expectations would support it. The success of Bakin's Konpira-bune was immediate: In later years, Bakin congratulated himself on the foresight of this enterprise, and claimed full credit for inaugurating the serial gokan. 4 Konpira-bune was published by Izumiya Ichibei/Kansendo, a modest firm that profited greatly by this single bestseller. Undaunted, Tsuruya

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

121

Kiemon/Senkakudo soon commissioned from Bakin a similar serial gokan, also to be based on a work of Chinese vernacular fiction. The resulting Keisei Suikoden (A courtesans' Shui hu chuan, 1825-1835) was an even greater success than Konpira-bune. This all-female version of Shui hu chuan (Water margin), whose 108 doughty woman bandits operate from a base in thirteenth-century Omi, sold in the thousands of copies; so great was the demand, in fact, that copies had to be sold unbound, , the strings for stitching the pages distributed separately to the buyers. 5 The vogue for lengthy serial gokan adaptations of Chinese vernacular novels only accelerated in the late 1820s and 1830s. Bakin led the way with his Konpira-bune, Keisei Suikoden, and Shinpen Kinpeibai (A new edition of Chin P'ing Mei, 1831-1847), but other authors were quick to follow suit. To compete with this growing trend and comply with the new demands of the marketplace, Tanehiko found himself at a relative disadvantage. Though skilled in the composition of shorter works, he had not disciplined himself to compose on any large scale since his final yomihon of 1813. True, his protracted Shohon-jitate series had maintained a certain stylistic unity, and often featured thematic continuity from installment to installment over several years, but the world of open-ended serial gokan was still unfamiliar terrain. In the preface to a single-issue gokan of 1828, Tanehiko comments on the new fashion with nervous amusement: For long things, we have spring sunbeams and autumn midnights, the "Yawning" Dyke and the Yahagi Bridge, an unabridged reading of the Mahaprajnaparamita-satra, Parts One and Two of the ''Wakana'' chapter [of Genji monogatan], the nose hairs of a dolt, a squared-off bonnet for Fukurokuju, a slug's progress to Kyoto-but even longer than all of these are the e-zoshi picture books of today!6

Unaccustomed to the scale of the new serial gokan, Tanehiko equally lacked the compendious knowledge of Chinese literature, ancient and modern, that Bakin lorded as his unassailable domain. Not to be bested, Tanehiko probably conceived the idea of a long serial gokan based instead on a Japanese classic-a classic, moreover, already partially assimilated and modernized in a series of Genroku period works with which he was familiar. Inaka Genji most likely represented a vote of opposi-

122

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

tion to the new flood of fictional offerings based upon Chinese vernacular prototypes, a bid to undermine the hegemony of Bakin's inexhaustible productions. There is no mention of Genji in the compendious inventory of the author's personal library or in his diaries. It is clear, however, that Tanehiko was acquainted with the Heian work from his earliest years as a writer, and that he commanded at least a good layman's knowledge of select passages. Bakin's assumption that Tanehiko had no acquaintance with the Heian original is certainly far from the mark. Certain kyoka poems from the years of his apprenticeship, as we have seen, allude to the wording of Genji. In the yomihon Awa no naruto, the hapless heroine O:Yumi inspects her rescuer's face by the light of fireflies in a cage; the text pauses to consider similar use of fireflies in lse monogatari, or the revelation of Tamakazura to her suitor Prince Hyobukyo by firefly light in the "Hotaru" chapter of Genji. Genji's gallantry and exchange of fans with the coquettish elderly Gen no Naishi inspire a brief allusion in the yomihon Asamagatake omokage-zoshi.7 Allusions to the classical canon in gokan titles are rarer, although the preface to Shin Utsubo monogatari (New Utsubo monogatari, 1823) begins: ''Even if [they are both] heirs to [the tale of] the old ('grafting bamboo onto trees') bamboo cutter, still the mixing of Toshikage and 0-Chiyo is hardly what you would expect to find in the 'E-awase' chapter. " 8 The language here, as well as at other points throughout the preface, echoes phrases from the monogatari contest held in the "E-awase'' chapter. Mere phrases or episodes, it may be argued, are as likely the product of reading epitomes or viewing picture albums as the result of actual textual study. The zuihitsu miscellanies, though undated, provide numerous knowledgeable allusions to far less celebrated features of the Heian text. In the unpublished "Ryuteiki" (Ryfitei records), for example, Tanehiko quotes a passage from "Suma" to exemplify the older meaning of tatami, or phrases in "Tokonatsu" while discussing terminology in the game of sugoroku. In "Ryutei hikki" (Ryfitei notebooks), also unpublished, he alludes to the inappropriateness of the fan flaunted by Gen no Naishi in the course of a long catalog of fan lore. 9 While it is probable that Tanehiko had planned and drafted several initial chapters of Inaka Genji by late 1828, only the first chapter

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842)

123

appeared in the New Year's releases of 1829. Uncertainty about the plausibility of this unusual venture may have prompted the publisher to restrict the first installment to a single chapter, in hopes of minimizing potential losses. The wildfire success of the first chapter dramatically reversed all misgivings, and, from 1830 through 1832, Tanehiko produced at least 2 new chapters every year. Even so, the pace was not quick enough to satisfy the voracious appetites of devoted readers, and, from 1833 through 1841, Tanehiko was obliged to produce no fewer than 3, and on many occasions 4 new chapters at a time for spring publication. The author's severe illness and incapacity during the summer and autumn of 1841 at once ended all hope of sustaining such a frenetic pace of production, but it was imperative for commercial reasons that some further chapter appear on the market by the first days of Tenpo 13/1842. Already rumors had begun to circulate that the strictures of the Tenpo Reform were about to close in about Inaka Genji, that Tanehiko would never complete another chapter. A breakneck effort to meet the New Year's deadline achieved some partial success with the publication of Chapter 38 in the spring of 1842. To reassure the public of the continued unabated production of the work, the publisher boldly proclaimed on the back inside cover of this chapter: FROM 1829 TO 1842: THE FOURTEENTI:AR PICTURE BOOK

After explaining the circumstances of the delay, Tsuruya Kiemon in the accompanying publisher's statement speaks confidently of 5 new chapters for the year ahead in tones suggestive of imminent publication: In CHAPTER 38 the previous Harima ["Suma'' and '~kashi''] chapters come to an end, and the story continues through ''Makibashira'' and "Ume ga e," our publication through CHAPTER 42. Last summer and autumn, Ryutei was ill; his condition, however, has improved steadily, and we shall print the aforementioned 5 chapters immediately following completion of the author's manuscripts. -The Senkakudoto

124

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

The 4 additional promised chapters 39-42 never appeared, however. During the process of revision and the preparation of illustrations, the force of Mizuno Tadakuni's legislation descended with a terrible swiftness on the publisher and his prize author. Midway through the transposition of the "Fujibakama" chapter, the story of Inaka Genji ended abruptly, never to resume. Chapter 39 and the beginnings of Chapter 40, still unpolished, did not see the light of day until Yamaguchi Takeshi's painstaking edition of 1928. Although no synopsis can do full justice to the baroque intricacies of Tanehikds narrative, a sketch of the major episodes allows a rough-andready idea of the whole. ( Genji character equivalents appear throughout in parentheses.) Among the many beauties in his Muromachi palace, the shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa ("Kiritsubd' emperor) above all favors his concubine Hanagiri (Kiritsubo). The affection he feels for Hanagiri, however, makes her the target of envious gossip and spiteful practical jokes. Hanagiri wastes away and dies, but not before having borne a son of preternatural beauty, Jiro no Kimi (Hikaru Kimi). Yoshihisa (Suzaku emperor), the son of Yoshimasa's full consort Toyoshi no Mae (Kokiden), had for many years previously enjoyed an undisputed claim as heir apparent to the shogunal estate; the advent of Jiro no Kimi, however, and the infatuation of Yoshimasa for his latest child cast a cloud over the expectations of an uncontested succession. Even as a boy, Jiro no Kimi is the object of periodic assassination attempts, though happily none successful. As he matures, Jiro no Kimi shows himself to be a paragon of polite and martial accomplishments, a prodigy in formal studies and, above all, a master of discerning judgment. His adult name, Mitsuuji (Genji), suggests by its orthography the radiant beauty of his features. To comfort his father, still distraught after the death of Hanagiri, Mitsuuji arranges for the transfer of Inanoya, a younger sister of the kanrei shogunal deputy Otogawa Katsumoto who closely resembles the late Hanagiri, into Yoshimasa's service. Inanoya for many years had declined the courtship of Yamana Sozen, a powerful vassal to the Ashikaga, of uncertain loyalty. To avert suspicion, Inanoya adopts the alias Fuji no Kata (Fujitsubo). Sozen eventually does learn of the covert arrangement, and

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842)

125

prevails upon agents in the Muromachi palace to smuggle him inside, concealed in a hamper. Mitsuuji catches wind of this stratagem, however, and is prepared: He secretly persuades Fuji no Kata to permit feigned incestuous advances at a moment when he knows Sozen will be eavesdropping. The plan succeeds beyond expectations, for Sozen bursts from his hamper upon hearing the illicit endearments, hurls abuse at Fuji no Kata and her supposed paramour, and drops all interest in her. Shortly after Mitsuuji's genpuku (capping) ceremony in late adolescence, the Muromachi court is visited by a calamity: Under cover of night, a thief has broken in and seized the sword Kogarasumaru, one of the palladia of Ashikaga authority, without which no ceremony of accession to the shogunate is valid. We later learn that two other essential heirlooms-the Jade Hare Mirror and a tanzaku or poem-card inscribed in the emperor's own hand, originally presented to Ashikaga Takauji -are missing or have been abstracted from the Ashikaga treasury. Mitsuuji embarks on a lengthy quest to achieve the recovery of these relics. His methods of inquiry are, to say the least, unconventional. Instead of pursuing the treasures with the full force of his office and unblemished character, he adopts a completely convincing moral disguise: the demeanor of a playboy and behavior of a hedonistic reprobate. A seemingly endless string of irresponsible amours is, in fact, Mitsuuji's means to an end: Each love affair brings him closer to recuperating the treasures, assists him in thwarting the conniving ploys of Yamana Sozen, or provides a pretext for supplying aid to weaker branches of the Ashikaga clan. This rakish behavior fools even Mitsuuji's closest relatives and provokes censure. But this, too, is part of Mitsuuji's plan, for, by displaying evidence of immorality and irresponsibility on every occasion, Mitsuuji forces Yoshimasa to prefer his less talented but more legitimate half brother, Yoshihisa, in the succession to the shogunate. For peace in the realm and a smooth transition of authority, Mitsuuji sacrifices his sterling reputation. The encounters he makes in the course of this quest are numerous and varied. During a visit to the sickbed of his ailing wet nurse in the Gojo district, he encounters by serendipity the charming Tasogare (Yugao). His cordiality toward Tasogare and her widowed mother, Shinonome, increases rapidly until one night, when the lovers seek refuge in

126

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

a dilapidated temple, a terrific demon appears, intent on murdering Mitsuuji. The assassin is none other than Shinonome in disguise. The truth comes out: Shinonome is a daughter of a family exterminated by the Ashikaga, and her seeming courtesy to Ashikaga Mitsuuji has been a wile to lull him into vulnerability. As an agent of Yamana Sozen, it was she, Shinonome confesses, who stole the treasure sword Kogarasumaru. Tasogare commits suicide in mortification, and Shinonome, griefstricken, soon follows suit. Before they expire, however, Mitsuuji coolly informs them that he suspected the particulars of the situation from the :first, and that his association with Tasogare has been a mere expedient to obtain further information about the stolen sword. Other encounters follow a similar pattern: A seemingly lustful encounter or inexplicable selfish action prefaces the revelation of a morally impeccable motivation. Mitsuuji visits, even submits to the advances of the courtesan Akogi (Rokujo lady) in order to secure the healing amulet she possesses-none other than the long-lost imperial tanzaku poem-card. He spirits away an apprentice courtesan, Murasaki (Murasaki), to use her as a hostage and prevent her influential father, Yusa Kunisuke (Prince Hyobukyo), from allying himself with Sozen. Sozen's plans to kidnap Inabune-hime (Suetsumuhana), a forlorn branch on the Ashikaga family tree, come to nothing, thanks to the timely interest Mitsuuji displays in her plight. An aged servingwoman in the Muromachi palace, Mihara (Gen no Naishi), falls victim to Sozen's coercion, and absconds with the Jade Hare Mirror; Mitsuuji endures her distasteful coquetries to retrieve the treasure and other critical documents. He purposely initiates an affair with Katsuraki (Oborozukiyo), a frivolous and entirely unsuitable young woman whom Toyoshi no Mae favors as a bride for Yoshihisa, in order to tarnish Katsuraki's reputation. The affair has repercussions on Mitsuuji's own reputation-these too, of course, calculated in advance. The young man undergoes voluntary exile in Suma, ostensibly to escape the ire of Toyoshi no Mae. His true purpose, though, is to gather intelligence about Yamana forces in the West. No sooner does Mitsuuji set foot outside the capital than the Yamana cohorts rise in open rebellion against the forces of Otogawa Katsumoto, in the first phase of the Onin War. Despite Mitsuuji's

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

127

absence, the insurgent Yamana eventually suffer defeat, and Sozen is beheaded. Mitsuuji passes his days in gloom at Suma; his exile presently becomes more tolerable thanks to the hospitality of Yamana Sonyu (Akashi lay priest), an unaligned brother of Sozen, whose shy daughter Asagiri (Akashi lady) captivates Mitsuuji. The three or four years of exile pass quickly, and Mitsuuji returns to the capital at the urging of the victorious Otogawa Katsumoto. In ensuing chapters, the central figure is engrossed in aiding and supporting figures familiar to him before the exile. He rescues Inabune-hime from dire penury, for example, and champions Isona (Akikonomu), Akogi's orphan daughter, in the shogunal court. Even though Sozen is dead and his partisans scattered, Mitsuuji cannot rest easy: Evil Bishop Denkan makes two attempts against Mitsuuji, one with the aid of a motley peasant rabble. Intrigues around the persons of the successive shoguns Yoshihisa and Yoshitane (Reizei emperor) provide numerous secondary episodes, as do the romances of the hero's son, Yugirimaru/Ujinaka (Yugiri). Court entertainments, like a storybook contest or a Chinese-style floating banquet, enliven the flow of the narrative. The final ten chapters of Inaka Genji are largely consecrated to the story of Tamakuzu (Tamakazura), an illegitimate daughter of Akamatsu Takanao (To no Chujo) by Tasogare. Raised by loyal retainers of her grandfather on the island of Hirado, Tamakuzu has grown into a peerless beauty. Her loveliness is not entirely an asset, however, since it attracts the odious roughshod courtship of Shigaraki Gendayu (Dayu no Gen), the very type of the boorish country samurai. In desperation, her guardians flee with her to the capital, where they hope to reunite her with her father, Takanao. Just when all seems most bleak, Tamakuzu and her entourage fortuitously encounter Yamabuki (Ukon), an aged maidservant now in Mitsuuji's employ, in the vicinity of Hase Tempk Mitsuuji is delighted at the discovery, and installs Tamakuzu in his expansive new Rokujo mansion. Various suitors vie for the hand of the mysterious beauty, who Mitsuuji has announced to the world is his own daughter. Finally, Tamakuzu is united with her father. Shigaraki Gendayu, not to be outwitted, in the interim has traced Tamakuzu to Kyoto, and attempts to abduct her. In a ruse worthy of his father, however, Ujinaka bests Gendayu at his own game, and sends him packing back to Kyushu.

128

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

Plans for introducing Tamakuzu into service at the shogunal court meet with an embarrassing setback when it is discovered that she is carrying the child of one of her admirers, Isshiki Hirokado (Higekuro). Hirokado is overjoyed to accept Tamakuzu in marriage, but the situation is far from satisfactory in the eyes of Shizuhata, his principal wife, whose precarious hold on sanity is seriously undermined by this transfer of affections. Toyoshi no Mae falls ill and dies; on the day of her obsequies, strange prodigies are observed in the heavens. At this point, the narrative continued through 38 published and slightly more than 1 unpublished manuscript chapters comes to an abrupt halt. The ultimate destinies of Mitsuuji and Ujinaka, the shoguns and their entourage, Murasaki and Tamakuzu, were to become the province of popular speculation and sequel manufacturers. Outstanding among the characteristics of Inaka Genji, and undoubtedly a major constituent of its original appeal, is its eclecticism. In a single work, Tanehiko blends elements suggestive of contemporary culture with echoes of the early Edo period, the late middle ages, and the Heian period. The result, while remote from any modern literary category, exercised an unparalleled fascination for contemporary readers long accustomed to the artistic superimposition of modernity on antiquity in ukiyo-e prints and the theater. In briefest definition, Inaka Genji is a hon'an, a translation or transposition of the Tale of Genji into a sekai or "world" of the latter fifteenth century. The introductory paragraph of the first chapter leaves no doubt about this chronological setting: In the Muromachi district of the blossom-bedecked capital rose an edifice adorned with blossoms-the "Blossom Palace," as they called it, in all its storied splendor. With the brilliance of the rising sun [reigned] Higashiyama -the very name suggestive of sunrise-Lord Yoshimasa. 11

The setting is the very palace of the Ashikaga shoguns, established by Yoshimitsu in the Muromachi district in 1378. Historical terms appropriate to the period, like kanrei (shogunal deputy) or shikken (shogunal regent), appear in the text, as do the names of actual historical figuresAshikaga Yoshimasa (1435-1490), his son Yoshihisa (1465-1489), Yamana Mochitoyo/Sozen (1404-1473), and Hosokawa Katsumoto

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842)

129

(1430-1473). The middle chapters contain unmistakable references to the Onin War of 1467-1477, while the jealous machinations of

Yoshimasa's consort, Toyoshi no Mae, to ensure the succession of her son over all claimants to the shogunate do have an historical parallel in the scheming of Yoshimasa's consort, Hino Tomiko (1440-1496), for similar ends. 12 Strict historicity, however, is remote from the author's primary conception. The chronology of the Ashikaga shogunal reigns is altered to accommodate the careers of the emperors in Genji who are their counterparts. Far from the obsessive historical precision of his rival Bakin, Tanehiko takes a leisurely, at times cavalier, approach to all questions of historical fidelity. He notes, even underlines in chapter prefaces, the deliberate anachronisms he has introduced: clocks, telescopes, tobacco, a sort of Greek fire borrowed from "Southern barbarians," and the shamisen, "newly introduced from the Ryukyus."13 The Muromachi setting of Inaka Genji is, if anything, the vague, irreproachably distant Muromachi period of countless kabuki and joruri dramas. The substitution of the clan name "Otogawa'' for the still-powerful Hosokawa, a joruri convention, is just one evidence of the debt the author owes this theatrical recension of history. 14 Tanehiko certainly was not incapable of researching and adhering to fact. Chapters 25 and 26 of 1838, primarily transpositions of the ''E-awase" chapter of Genji, incorporate an unusual amount of fifteenth-century detail: We find mention of renga linked verse, otogizoshi illustrated tales, the paintings of Sesshu (1420-1506) "newly returned from China," and the calligraphy of Iio Sogi (14211502).15 This attention to period detail is exceptional, however, and the Muromachi setting remains a conventional veneer of the most superficial sort. Closer to the author's heart, certainly, and far more important to the spirit of the work are the numerous allusions to Genroku or to early Edo period life, art, and literature. These allusions, while recent enough to be familiar, were at the same time quaint enough to lend an appealing patina of nebulous antiquity to the production. The author's research and devotion to the material culture of the early Edo period bears fruit in text and illustrations alike. Household furnishings, in Yamaguchi Takeshi's opinion, are deliberately archaic in

130

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

design, although he does not hazard a period identification. 16 Takanao's sons sport "wagtail thrush boy-prostitute'' coiffures-surely more the style of seventeenth-century Kyoto than contemporary Edo. The maids in Mitsuuji's Saga mansion don their best holiday finery to welcome their master home after his exile, and dress their hair in the Hyogo, Katsuyama, and oriyanagi styles-typical Genroku coiffures-using "flat binding-twists"-obsolete by the 1750s. Inabune's maidservants, hopelessly behind the times, wear their sashes in the "Kichiya manner," that is, in the style popularized by the Genroku stage idol U emon Kichiya I ( ? -1724).17 Akogi, the equivalent of Genji's jealous lover, the lady of the Rokujo ward, becomes quite naturally a courtesan in the RokujoMisujimachi pleasure quarter of Kyoto. The ascription is entirely anachronistic in a fifteenth-century setting, inasmuch as the RokujoMisujimachi district (superseded by the much more famous Suzaku-no or Shimabara district in 1641) was not even designated a pleasure quarter until 1602. Characteristically, Tanehiko exploits the associations of ''Rokujo' in seventeenth-century Kyoto, not in the Heian capital. 18 Interest in the art and early publications of the period is responsible for a wealth of detail. The ferocious rustic Gendayu, would-be suitor of Tamakuzu, is likened to the superhero Kinpira in a children's akahon picture book; Kunisada in at least two instances deliberately reproduces the flat, angular style of early kusazoshi illustrations. 19 Otsu-e (Otsu pictures), the robust folk art popularly (though probably erroneously) considered the forerunners of seventeenth-century ukiyo-e paintings and prints, figure among the prizes in the chest Mitsuuji delivers to Fuji no Kata's apartments, or as the subject of discussion in the equivalent of the "E-awase'' tale and picture scroll contest. 20 Upon awakening in the Rokujo lady's mansion, Genji, enchanted by the sight of a pageboy amid the dewy grasses of the garden, meditates that the scene is one he "would like to paint in a picture." Mitsuuji, observing the captivating scenery of a garden in the Rokujo pleasure quarter, wishes he could have the entire scene "drawn up in a picture by Hishigawa," that is, Hishikawa Moronobu (1618?-1694). 21 The reference to the father of the ukiyo-e print is grossly out of place in a fifteenth-century setting, yet eminently appropriate for a Genroku version of Genji. The dramatic ascendancy of haikai poetry throughout the seven-

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

131

teenth century finds ample reflection in Tanehiko's work. In an attempt to provide some approximation for the hundreds of tanka verses that long tradition had sanctioned as the very heart of the Tale of Genji, Tanehiko introduces over 140 original haikai verses into his chapters. By turns paraphrases, hybrids, or compositions completely unrelated to their counterpart verses in Genji, the haikai of Inaka Genji serve as a rough equivalent for this quintessential component of the Heian model. The heavily metaphorical, lyric expression of court poetry translates awkwardly at best into the literally descriptive, impersonal idiom of haikai poetry. Tanehiko himself apparently had misgivings about the device, and the incidence of haikai decreases in later chapters. No such difficulties attended the substitution of more popular verse forms of the early Edo period, the kouta ballad or wistful nagebushi song of the Genroku entertainment districts, for the informal saibara ballad of Heian times. 22 Superficial allusions to Genroku-period fiction abound in Inaka Genji: The nise murasaki (mock purple) of the title probably echoes a phrase in the preface to Miyako no Nishiki's (1675-?) ukiyozoshi work Furyu Genji monogatari (An elegant Tale of Genji, 1703), while red tickmarks beside the name of the protagonist in Tanehiko's reference copy of Furyu gozen Gikeiki (Gikeiki told before his lordship, 1700) suggest the likely provenance of the name "Mitsuuji."23 To gauge the deeper influence of the seventeenth-century and Genroku-period fictional and dramatic works, particularly those indebted to Genji monogatari, on the Rustic Genji is a herculean task, however, and requires a knowledge few moderns-indeed few contemporariescould honestly claim. Tanehiko himself leaves clues to intimate that the borrowing on all levels has been great indeed. Most valuable of aU evidence is the preface to Chapter 3, published in 1830.24 Instead of the usual fanciful web of wordplay about the title or content of the work, or a tongue-in-cheek disquisition about the history of some item or custom in the chapter ahead, the preface to the third chapter is a self-styled "complete listing of works cited," its format identical to the bibliography one might find in a published antiquarian miscellany. Of the 15 identifiable items in this bibliography, only Genji teiyo (Outline of Genji, 1432) and Genji kokagami (Little mirror of Genji; ca. 1425?), two

132

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842}

popular epitome compilations, and an unspecific "various no dramas" antedate the period of Tokugawa rule; all remaining items date from the late seventeenth or early eighteenth centuries and reflect the important contributions by Matsunaga Teitoku (1571-1654) and his disciples to the popularization of the Heian classic. Nonoguchi Ryuho's (15951669) synoptic ]ujo Genji (Genji in 10 volumes, 1661) and his children's kanazoshi work Osana Genji (Genji for young people, 1666) are the closest approximation to formal scholarly works on the list, which conspicuously excludes all formal commentaries and expositions. Ukiyozoshi constitute the majority of titles enumerated; most prominent among these in turn are the florid "vernacular" retellings of the early chapters of Genji composed by Miyako no Nishiki and by "Baio' -perhaps the versatile artist and publisher Okumura Masanobu (1686-1764)?-in the first decade of the eighteenth century. Joruri plays-often only very tenuously connected with the realities of Genji-contribute three titles to the list, while two haikai works related by title or by subject to the chapters of Genji complete the enumeration. 25 To prove a direct affinity between Inaka Genji and its self-proclaimed pedigree of Genroku antecedents requires the discovery of coincident episodes or wording too distinctive to be the result of mere chance, or a common reliance on a third source-surely no easy proposition. Yamaguchi Takeshi cites, as one likely example, the unsavory practical joke played by Hirugao's maids in the first chapter. 26 To inconvenience Hanagiri during her frequent nocturnal transits to Lord Yoshimasa's apartments, Kikyo and Kogiku, two scheming maids in the service of the malevolent concubine Hirugao, spread putrefying fish offal along the corridors Hanagiri must use; they also bolt shut the doors to trap their hapless victim in the cold, reeking passageway. The incident is an obvious amplification of a line in Genji which delicately insinuates a number of spiteful pranks played on Kiritsubo: "They performed a number of distasteful deeds here and there along the gangplanks and corridors of her pathway, and there were even disgraceful incidents when the hems of the robes of those escorting her became quite intolerable." The exact nature of the "disgraceful incidents" -Yamagishi Tokuhei suggests booby traps of human excrement- is not specified. 27 In Miyako no Nishiki's Furyu Genji monogatari, however, one of the works listed in

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842}

133

the inventory preface to Chapter 3, we find a distinctive interpretation of the same passage: The spiteful ladies spread liberal quantities of fish guts and refuse water in the corridors. In Miyako no Nishiki's version of the episode, moreover, Kiritsubo is determined to avoid scandal and further retaliation by keeping secret all these indignities. This parallels Hanagiri's rather puzzling insistence that Sugibae, her attendant and confidante, reveal nothing of what has transpired that night. 28 Here the parallel to the Genroku version and the departure from the strict sequence of the Heian narrative are sufficiently satisfying to sanction a conjecture of direct borrowing. Allusions to the contemporary world, while less prominent than references to Genroku attitudes and artifacts, have a decided place in Inaka Genji. Tanehiko accounts for these anachronistic intrusions in the preface to the first chapter, in which he attributes the composition of lnaka Genji to a certain 0-Fuji, a young Edo woman whose knowledge of the past is decidedly limited: In the very heart of Great Edo, in a place not far from Nihonbashi called Shikibu Lane, dwelt a most winsome maid, by the name of 0-Fuji. She always wore a purple [murasakz] ribbon to hold her coiffure-though it was hardly the "first hair-ribbon" of adulthood ceremonies-and so others did not call her 0-Fuji, but gave her the nickname "Murasaki Shikibu." One day upon learning of this, she reflected: "Well now, why don't I try writing a soshi book like that Tale of Genji, since my nickname already links me to it." She brooded on this day and night, but the only books she had read were kusazoshi. When it came to classical uta verses [she thought of uta popular songs, sung to shamisen tunings of] "second string sharp'' or "third string flat." Instead of [archaic] sedoka verses, all she knew were yoshikono and dodoitsu ditties of the day, metrical monstrosities. She had never even bitten a lipvermilion brush to a point [let alone a writing brush]. 29

A pompous and rather pedantic friend (Tanehiko poking fun at himself?) tries to assist her ambitions by recommending standard commentaries and Genroku retellings of Genji: A certain person told the girl about the depth of the Kakatisho], the breadth of the Kogetsu[sho]. '~nd even if you are not that ambitious," [he continued,] "there is the Wakakusa [Genjt], which plucks out the essentials of the story. If you make a comparative study of Kohaku [Genjt], Hinazuru [Genjt], [Genji]

134

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

binkagami, [Genjt] kokagami and the like, they should aid you to fathom something of the meaning. You should begin your readings with ]ajo Genji."

The local bookseller, however, is only slightly less uninformed than she: Thus encouraged, [off she went] with her painstaking, misspelled list of titles. The book dealer, however, found it practically impossible to decipher. "This Hinazuru [Crane fledgling]-must be this," [he said, producing] Okinagusa [Old man grass] (flourish a thousand ages!) [suggestive of the] sanbaso dancegoodness, what a mistake! He then guessed that Wakakusa referred to some Shinnai ballad, that ]ajo Genji was the joruri text Monogusa Taro. He confused ("grafting bamboo onto trees") the Takemoto Uorun] Aoi no Ue with [Kokiden]

uwanariuchi. When she had assembled most of the titles on her list to her satisfaction, she worried about the proper place to produce her very own monogatari. The name of nearby Omi Row had a propitious ring [that is, suggested the province of Omi, where Murasaki began her own work]. But the racket of carts trundling down the main street and the thudding of rice-hulling mortars made it seem more like Yugao's dwelling place. Besides, it was not very well situated for moonviewing purposes. Fortunately, at this juncture, she had an acquaintance in Teppozu ["Cannon Strand'1-an auspicious name for one hoping to "make a big hit" by "shooting off' empty words! The bodhisattva Kannon was not available [in the neighborhood], so she made a pilgrimage to the Hitomaru Shrine, then set up house for the time being on the second floor of a stonecutter's shop [ishiya, cf. Murasaki Shikibu's Ishiyama Temple]. Twas the 15th day of the 8th month. As she gazed at the moon reflected over the ocean [of Edo Bay], she took up her writing brush at Akashi-cho. Then she produced her book: 54 notebooks on vanity tissue, all in a terrible scrawl nobody could make heads or tails of. The Murasaki Shikibu of old was versed in the abstruse mysteries of the Tendai sect. They say she wrote her work on the back of the Lotus Sutra, her heart imbued with the principles of karmic causation and transmigration among the Six Paths. Our current "Shikibu," however, this impostor Murasaki, was a frivolous creature by nature. Commit a murder before her eyes and she would concede it a crime, but she was far estranged from the Way of the Buddha. Talk to her of the Three Views [sangan], the Four Entries [shimon], the Unique Work in Eight Portions [ichibu hakkan], and she would probably mistake you for a moneychanger. Her heart was base, her words were base; the extreme baseness of her Genji is apparent from the ''Rustic" [that precedes it]. Rich and poor, young and old alike, not one failed to laugh at itP 0

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

135

Inaka Genji, then, is represented as the ramblings of a poorly educated but well-meaning kusazoshi enthusiast, her vision devoid of all historical perspective. Allusions to actual contemporary events or personages-common in kibyoshi, yet most unusual in the gokan-are difficult to locate .in Inaka Genji. A sudden pilgrimage "boom'' to Ise in mid-1830 may underlie a quotation from Kawasaki ondo-a popular ballad of the Furuichi entertainment quarter that was the real goal of many Ise-bound pilgrims-in the preface to Chapter 6 (1832). 31 The eruption of countless uprisings during the 1830s, particularly during the height of the Tenpo Famine, may find some reflection in the unsuccessful farmers' revolt fomented by Bishop Denkan in Chapter 27 (1838). 32 Most intriguing is the theory, long endorsed by rumor, that Inaka Genji is in fact a covert description of the shogunal court of its day, or a representation of conditions in the women's quarters of Edo Castle. Evidence on both sides of this argument I shall defer to the following chapter. The most striking modern component of Inaka Genji is undoubtedly its extreme theatricality. The year Tsuruya Kiemon issued the first chapter, 1829, saw the publication of the 11th installment in the Shohonjitate series. After fifteen years of brisk profits from this latter, deliberately theatrical production, it is no surprise that Tanehiko endowed his Inaka Genji with some like characteristics. The preface to Chapter 2, published in 1830, makes the author's intentions explicit: I took up the cart of the ·~oi" chapter [and tilted it]. A picture book, combining kabuki, puppet plays, and monogatari romance-all three together in one.... So now, after the opening act, comes the new play and main attraction. 'Tis the pantomime play, in silence, in silenceP3

The author intends his text to be an amalgam of the monogatari, puppet theater, and kabuki styles (the last two, in any event, already inextricably intertwined since the early eighteenth century). The introduction concludes with an injunction, as if from the lips of a stage announcer, that the "audience'' maintain silence during the pantomime "scene" to follow. In the preface to a chapter the following year, the author protests that his methods are those of the gakuya (greenroom) rather than those of the gakusha (scholar). 34

L36

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

What might loosely be termed "dramatic situations," distinguished by sudden tension and conspicuous resolution, abound throughout rnaka Genji. The first pages, which substitute a fast-paced conspiracy and cruel joke for the leisurely idyll of the emperor's love for Kiritsubo, set a precedent for much of the early portions of the work. Partitions fly back to reveal an unanticipated presence or absence; evidence of crime or collusion is thrust beneath the offender's nose; evildoers burst onto the scene, only to be foiled by an equally potent eruption of heroes. Here, of course, it is difficult to claim that the situation in question is a direct allusion to the stage, rather than the simple manifestation of narrative preferences common to stage and fictional works for decades. Certain situations in Inaka Genji do, however, suggest theatrical conventions with greater specificity. It is impossible to read the account of Mitsuuji's flight with Tasogare to the "old temple in the fields," or see the illustrations Kunisada has drawn to accompany the passage, and not be reminded of a theatrical michiyuki passage to describe a pathetic journey: Mitsuuji, taking advantage of Shinonome's absence, broke a hole through the rear wall of the bedroom. The two made ready to flee. Even though he had disguised his appearance, Mitsuuji still was concerned that his gilt-edged sword might glimmer in the moonlight and attract attention. Tearing the blinds from the eaves, he dropped them quickly about his person to conceal it. Twigs crackled underfoot as he gently carried Tasogare in his arms out of the house. Hand in hand, they hurried whither their feet led them. But there, coming toward them-was it Shinonome? They recognized Shinonome, leading her hulking henchmen, just in time. At that very moment, the moon retreated behind a bank of clouds. Profiting from the dim light, they hid by the side of the road to let their pursuers pass by. They continued on a narrow path through a desolate moor, pushing onward, onward through a tangle of plume-grass and miscanthus. Where could they be? They had no idea. Dimly they heard the sound of the fulling mallets, doubtless beating the white bark cloth; geese cried distantly to each other across the heavens. A slight wind rose up, and, while the moon burned brilliantly, another sudden shower fell. Mitsuuji took the hat from a statue ofthe bodhisattva Jizo installed at the roadside, a stroke offortune, and put it on himself. "See," he showed Tasogare, "the inscription on this hat reads 'Bliss in two worlds; two on one path together.' If only I might give you happiness in this world and the next. Do not be fearful." So he sought to give her strength, but Mitsuuji himself was not accustomed to walking long distances and began to wonder how he could manage.

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842)

137

Even more anxious about past and future paths was Tasogare; more rapidly than the falling rain did dew bedeck her sleeves; she paused, unable to wring her sleeves dry. In the distance, Mitsuuji spotted a flickering light. "Look-that must be the large temple, the So-and-So Cloister."35

Although this passage lacks the topographical wordplay so essential to Chikamatsu's michiyuki, the language is clearly "exalted," and the diction lapses on occasion into regular metrical segments of 5 and 7 syllables. The stylized, almost ballet-like representation of violence on the kabuki stage was more difficult to translate into static images and mute text, but the following description of the tussle between Shiraito and Sugibae, two maidservants, is almost certainly intended to evoke an echo of on-stage clappers, a mental image of exaggerated attacks and repulsions: Here Shiraito interrupted: ''Never mind about my past! Now I am a lady in close service to Toyoshi no Mae, the consort herself. To let or hinder a messenger of my stature is an insult, to me of course, but to her ladyship no less." "The same applies to me!" retorted Sugibae. ''How can I allow such a slight to Fuji no Kata [my own mistress]?" ''Fine indeed, that you should go.2' ''Before you? Yes! And let me show you how..." But as she tried to advance, Shiraito blocked her path. "Out of my way!" cried [Sugibae], grasping her by the shoulder. As the two pulled and tussled, they dropped their trivets as one. Startled, they stretched out their arms to retrieve them; fingers locked. Shiraito stared fixedly at her rival. "The embroidery on your outer robe is the 'palace oxcart' pattern. But if you force your way past, I will twist, break, tear, and fling aside those 'traces' and their 'resting-stand.' Before you come to grief, madam, withdraw, to show your contrition." Sugibae simply laughed merrily. ''But the pattern on your robes, Shiraito, is the 'blossom-decked oxcart.' You had better step aside, my dear, before your 'blossoms' are scattered and pounded into fine dust!" '~musing, this-a glib mouth [kuchiguruma, lit. "mouth cart'j, twisting right into wrong!" ''No, you're the one who's unreasonable [yokoguruma, lit. "sideways cart"]. This outer robe, in fact, was a gift from my lady, its lining of damask with a figured weir design. Hope for no mercy on my part when you are at fault!" They split, one right, one left, and tightened their sashes, took up their

138

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842)

trivets. Shiraito flew to attack, but [Sugibae] spun around, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and tugged her to her side. Though reeling, [Shiraito] tore at the hem of Sugibae's robe, and sent her sprawling on her back. Shiraito pounced again, but Sugibae was up in a flash, grabbed the end of [her attacker's] sash, and pulled violently backward. ''Let me go!" 'Never!" They struggled back and forth; their sashes came undone, whirled round and round. Heedless of appearances, their shins were exposed. Shiraito tried to go, but could not, and harried Sugibae-who grasped her, pinned her under her knee. Helpless, Shiraito screamed, her voice quavering with tears: "A madwoman! Assailant! Help me, help!"3 6

A typical kabuki scene in which the hero makes light work of repelling a party of hostile attackers finds its textual parallel in Akamatsu Takanao's easy victory over Shinonome's henchmen. The villains chuckle at their intended victim's composure, but soon find themselves flying, head over heels: The two thugs threw down the folding screens in the bedroom-but there was no trace of Tasogare. Instead, a single youth slept soundly and peacefully before them. ''What's this!" [cried Shinonome,] her fists clenched in anger, 'No sign of my daughter? Mitsuuji has flown, and here is some stranger. Look-the wall behind him-broken through. My daughter Tasogare must have let her passion for Mitsuuji overwhelm her, must have revealed our secret plans. Infuriating!" The henchmen, too, seemed disappointed. ''We really worked ourselves up when you promised us a big pot of money for taking him alive. Let's take it out on this guy, tie him up, and make him tell us where Mitsuuji's run off to. Just look at him, snoring away through all this noise; fd like to smash his smug little face...!' The moment he struck out, however, the sleeper sprang to his feet, spun around, sent his attacker flying in a somersault, then tossed the two far from him. 37

Similar acrobatics no doubt underlie Shinonome's speedy elimination of the Muromachi palace guards: Just then the rain ceased, the clouds scattered. In the pale moonlight, none could discern the intruder's features, but the figure's movements were graceful. To judge by her light katabira robe, adorned with pressed foil, it seemed to be a woman. ''You! What's all this?! Grab her! Seize her!"

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

139

But as the guards rushed into the fray, she seized them, left and right, and tossed them afar. She trampled them, sent them flying with an experienced deftness scarce credible in a woman. 38

The danmari or "dumb show," in which the principals of a play move confusedly and wordlessly on a darkened stage, often in a frenzied search for a lost object, is among the oldest stereotyped kabuki performance situations, albeit unfamiliar to most modern theatergoers. 39 In Tanehikds day, danmari scenes were a familiar feature in the conservative kaomise, or inaugural performances of the theatrical year; they provided an opportunity for the audience to assess the mimetic capabilities of the newly hired or retained actors. It is not surprising, then, that a danmari passage should appear in the initial chapters of Tanehikds opus. In the second chapter, Mitsuuji, Fuji no Kata, and Sugibae simultaneously grope about in confusion during a night attack led by Sozen's assassms: Sugibae, standing and listening to Fuji no Kata's words directly behind her, suddenly thrust forward the goblet lantern she had concealed in her sleeve. Faces stared at faces in the sudden light. A gasp of surprise! Mitsuuji knocked down the lantern with the back of his dagger. A secret letter tumbling from a sleeve! Sugibae fumbled to retrieve it. Just at that moment, an agent from the Yamana advanced to join the melee. [Mitsuuji] gently pushed Fuji no Kata to one side. The agent stabbed away-but Mitsuuji caught him and pinned him down. The icy flash of the blade, to pierce him through! Without so much as a cry, the assassin collapsed on the spot. Without a word, the three figures parted company. 4 o

From its title, finally, Inaka Genji claims a special relationship with a fourth era, the Heian world of Genji monogatari. The relationship between the two works, intricate and constantly fluctuating, defies easy characterization, still less cursory description. Clearly, the translation of the acknowledged pinnacle of literary refinement into the humblest of popular vessels, the attempt to satisfy at once readers of sophistication and mere "picture readers" proposed for the author a dilemma of constantly varying aspect and dimensions. The difficulties of transferring the Tale of Genji into a gokan were legion. By kusazoshi standards, the stately tempo of the Heian work was simply too slow, the action deficient in surprise or ingenious twists. Far from providing the variety so highly esteemed by the gokan author, the

140

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842}

early chapters of Genji, particularly, show a certain repetitiousness in rendering a familiar romantic archetype. To remedy this tediousness, Tanehiko resorted to excision, abridgment, and, above all, the insertion of original episodes and intrigues of a familiar dramatic nature, sure to please (or at least placate). Examples of these original interpolations include plots against the Ashikaga, the theft of heirloom treasures, abductions, suicides, religious conversions-heady condiments to liven the stew. Fiendish attempts on Mitsuuji's life are a favorite device of the author: assassins' daggers gleam on the average of once every four chapters. Such assassination episodes have the advantage of not demanding any elaborate build-up in earlier chapters, nor is there any requirement for elaborate justifications; the author simply assumes that Yamana Sozen has an unlimited number of henchmen and underground partisans, who will continue assaults on the Ashikaga periodically. 41 The superabundance of characters was another problem: The total of characters appearing in the Tale of Genji, I am told, exceeds 490. To include each and every member of this huge crowd in a trivial picture book would be awkward if not impossible, and I have eliminated all the inessential ones. ~2

More vexing still was the fact that the many characters of Genji do not maintain a constant presence throughout the work, but appear and vanish unpredictably through the chapters. To bring the situation into conformity with gokan reader expectations, Tanehiko streamlines the number of participants in the text, produces composite characters or characters with multiple identity. Characters are introduced with care: While at the beginning of ''Yugao" Genji's affair with the Rokujo lady suddenly appears as common knowledge, and the reader is unsure how and where the relationship began, Tanehiko provides a full explanation for Mitsuuji's involvement with Akogi. The essential unfamiliarity of the story was another obstacle for the author to overcome. Everybody knew the stories of lzayoi and Yugiri, of the Taiheiki, of Sugawara no Michizane and the slanderer Shihei. For many prospective readers, though, the Heian classic was an unknown quantity. Tanehiko reports one consumer's misapprehensions about this newfangled Genji: "One reader of this book took it to task: 'It is not

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

141

even faithful to the name of the Tale of Genji. There's no Yoshitsune, no Benkei-just how do you explain this?' He was joking, of course-most amusing!"43 For the unenlightened reader who served as the butt of this joke, "Genji" had nothing to do with the world of the Shining Prince, but evoked instead the conflicts of the Genji and Heike clans. Though many readers undoubtedly had some sketchy conception of famous scenes in the work, Tanehiko could not assume detailed foreknowledge of the classic. Thus we find two fairly detailed retellings of Tamakuzu's childhood and discovery near Hase-retellings largely superfluous for the reader knowledgeable about Genji. 44 The knottiest difficulty confronting Tanehiko was not style or pace or unfamiliarity, however, but the uncongenial spirit of the original work. Genji portrays a world where good and evil coexist in a universally sorrowful setting; the gokan, however, demanded a strict segregation of good and evil forces, and presumed an essentially orderly, positive, and benevolent world. The spiritual and irrational elements so prominent in the Heian world view were unpalatable to more pragmatic moderns. Equally unacceptable was the selfish, frequently immoral conduct of principals in the Tale of Genji; a drastic revision of motivations was the compromise required to present recognizably Genji-like scenes and unimpeachable moral orthodoxy on the same pages. Whereas the older, more familiar stories in a gokan writer's repertory already had undergone this moralizing shaping and reinterpretation, Genji was largely virgin territory, and the magnitude of Tanehiko's selfappointed task is impressive. As if the difficulties implicit in the conception were not great enough, Tanehiko was torn, in constructing his work, between two conflicting inner resolutions. Should he, on the one hand, aim primarily at entertaining the reader, and thus discard all qualms about taking liberties with the Genji narrative, or introducing at will assassinations, treasures, and reunions? Or should he, on the other hand, aim at edifying his reader, by making his work reflect enjoyably but accurately the story, text, and tenor of the original? In stylistic terms, should he emphasize the zoku (vulgar) element and include colloquialisms, theatricisms, even catchwords of the day, or should he promote the ga (elegant) element, courtly and archaic, at the expense of ready intelligibility? Com-

142

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

promise between the two antithetical principles was difficult: One large segment of readers was sure to find fault no matter which course he adopted. The dilemma appears most clearly in the preface to Chapter 10, the final installment of 1833, summarizing five years of production: The man who likes his bath water hot saith unto the bathhouse attendant, ''Best to make the water nice and hot. You can always cool it off later by adding cold water." But he who likes his bath water tepid saith unto the bathhouse attendant, ''Best to make the water lukewarm. You can always heat it up later by boiling it." And see, [herein] lies a similar situation. When I first set out to write this lnaka Genji, an elderly friend said to me, "You should alter the plot of Genji as little as possible, and in your writing use as much of the original language as you possibly can. Thus it may serve as some small assistance to children who have not yet read Genji." But a young friend advised me, "Write it up like a jaruri or a kabuki play; transpose the plot of Genji. Can there really be anybody who has not read Genji?" Upon reflection, the old man who told me to write just like Genji is like the man who favors hot bath water, while the friend who urged me to compose in the manner of a stage play is like the advocate of lukewarm bath water.

The metaphor was a vivid one for frequenters of public bathhouses, where tempers flared over the temperature of water in the communal vat. Uncertain which course to follow after this advice, I wrote and rewrote the

draft of the first chapter several times. At first I followed the advice of the young friend, and made the story "lukewarm" by inserting the Dorozo episode and the danmari pantomine scene in the Hitomaru Shrine. But the "Genji" of the title seemed to be evaporating, and the whole was in danger of becoming "cold water." And so I gradually stoked the text with words from the original chapters [makt]. The whole began to "boil" last year, and continues to do so this year.

The original inclination in composing Inaka Genji was to entertain; theatrical elements were welcome and expected. Hence Tanehiko introduced the original story of the failed assassin Dorozo (Chapter 1) and the stagy "dumb scene" in the Hitomaru Shrine (Chapter 2). The entire work was in danger of becoming too far estranged from Genji, however, and the author burned some kindling (maki, a pun on the maki "chapters" of Genjz); in 1832 and 1833 (Chapters 6 through 10), the text approached much more closely the wording and tone of the original.

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

143

Concern for reader reaction, however, remained foremost on Tanehikds mind: perhaps he had overdone the "heating" process? Already fve reached the lOth chapter, but still am not sure of the appropriate "water temperature." There are many words unsuitable for an akahon [for a kusazoshz]. If you find it too "hot" and difficult to read, please come knocking on the door of the Senkakudo, and in the very next chapters, I'll add some kabuki "cold water" to make it "lukewarm." The publisher is just like the owner of a bathhouse, while an author is just like a bathhouse attendant. The larger the clientele, the better, no matter what means may be necessary to the end. [A writer] may put on airs about his masterwork [that is, not take into account the preferences of his public], only to find his cupboards bare and rattling. 45

Yamaguchi Takeshi distinguishes three distinct phases in the composition of Inaka Genji, on the bas~s of the author's shifting attitude toward the use of the Tale of Genji, and his variable allegiance to the conflicting demands of ga (elegant) and zoku (vulgar) composition. 46 In the first phase, from the 1st through the lOth or 11th chapter {the chapters of 1829-1833), the "vulgar" element and its attendant heavy theatricality clearly predominate; Genji elements are subordinate to the requirements of dramatic effectiveness. An overly close representation of the text or episodic sequences of Genji is, in fact, avoided. Chapters 8 through 11 form a patchwork quilt of elements from four chapters of Genji, rearranged as fits the author's new design. Where it suits his purposes, Tanehiko appropriates out of sequence events from much later chapters. The famous kurumaarasoi or "oxcart quarrel" of the '~oi" chapter, in which the escorts of Genji's wife, Aoi, and of his lover, the Rokujo lady, clash with dire repercussions, intrudes as early as Tanehikds 2nd chapter, where it is playfully recast as the tussle between the maids, Shiraito and Sugibae, each of whom bears a large oxcart or wheel pattern on her voluminous robes. In this initial phase, to supplement Yamaguchi's observations, we note the intensive use of theatrical shuko or situational cliches: the search for lost or stolen household treasures, the feigning of profligacy and immoral intentions for impeccable objectives, constant impersonation or substitution to foil an enemy's designs. The conflict between Mitsuuji's mother, Hanagiri, and her rival Toyoshi no Mae, the mother

144

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

of the established heir Yoshihisa, assumes a prominence far beyond the place of the equivalent antipathy of the jealous Kokiden for the lady of the Paulownia Court in Genji-a possible legacy of the succession disputes endemic in o-ie sodo (conflict-in-noble-houses) plays popular since Genroku times, or more specifically, of Chikamatsu's own series of Genji-inspired dramas. 47 An obsession with mathematically exact retribution and prompt punishment in kind, equally, suggests the stern didacticism of contemporary drama: Hirugao, racked by jealousy, falls victim to the assassin she sends to despatch her rival, Hanagiri; Hirugads maidservant, Kikyo, while attempting to avenge her mistress by murdering Mitsuuji, mistakenly kills her own brother Doroz6; K.arukaya, the former Kikyo now a penitent nun, allows herself to be struck down in Mitsuuji's place after betraying his whereabouts to Yamana Sozen's henchmen under duress. Throughout these earliest chapters, we find in all their dark glory the villains who are Tanehiko's most significant contribution to the dramatis personae: nefarious Hirugao, bloodthirsty Dorozo, subtle Shinonome, the blustering, oafish Yamana Sozen. It is probable, as Yamaguchi asserts, that the author initially assumed a run of two or three years at the most for his new offering. His original draft was for a tightly knit, essentially theatrical serial gokan, only superficially reminiscent of its Heian namesake. The startling success of the initial chapters, however, led Tanehiko to reconsider his objectives, and to project the work on a far more ambitious scale. Already by Chapters 6 and 7 of 1832, as the preface to Chapter 10 demonstrates, Tanehiko had attempted to "heat the bath water" and adhere far more closely to the language, sequence, and atmosphere of the prototype chapter ''Wakamurasaki." While the preface solicits readers' opinions on the direction the work should take, in all probability Tanehiko already had resolved to alter the course of his writing. Chapters 11 through 21 (1834-1836), Yamaguchi's second phase, embody at every turn a far more serious attitude to the text of Genji. The eclectic, simultaneous use of elements from several Genji chapters disappears, and the author is at pains to provide some equivalent for even slow-moving portions of the relatively static "Suma'' and '~kashi" chapters. The first of a dozen poems in the orthodox tanka format

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

145

appears amid the haikai verses of Chapter 11. Earlier elements omitted or adopted prematurely in earlier chapters, notably the "oxcart quarrel," here reappear in their correct context, almost as a sort of literary pentimento. Original elements-assassination attempts on Mitsuuji's life, Sozen's rebellion-are not absent, but their episodic nature and distance from the main story line are pronounced. The third and final phase of Yamaguchi's analysis comprises the remainder of the work, Chapters 22 through 38 (1837-1842). While the author's interest in the project had begun to flag, public enthusiasm persisted unabated. By the mid-1830s, Tanehiko boldly enunciates in his chapter prefaces that his new goal is nothing less than to reach the "Uji chapters" -in effect to render the entire 54 chapters of the Tale of Genji in his gokan mold. 48 The chapters of this third segment adhere most conspicuously to the episode sequence of the original, even to the point of mechanical parallel transposition of consecutive Genji chapters into consecutive Inaka Genji half-chapters. From about Chapter 30 (1839) onward, Yamaguchi discerns increasingly frequent attempts at honmondori, the limited incorporation of text from the Heian work directly into Inaka Genji, either verbatim or with minor modifications. While the tense theatrical style of the earliest chapters does surface sporadically, these final, most imitative segments represent the final victory of the "elegant" component, and capitulation of the "vulgar." Whatever the author's doubts about the direction and validity of his enterprise, for the reading public there was no such hesitation: The popularity of Nise Murasaki inaka Genji was immediate and overwhelming. Careful statistics on printing and sales were never a feature of gesaku publication, although a few figures suggest the scale of circulation. Bakin records sales of 5,000 and 8,000 copies for two of his single-issue gokan of 1822; for the 1830 installments of Keisei suikoden and Shinpen kinpeibai, he notes sales of 4,000 to 5,000 in two weeks and 7,000 at the New Year's season, respectively. 49 In a letter of 1830, Santo Kyozan assures Suzuki Bokushi (1770-1842) in the provinces that "5,000 copies is usual for a work by Kyokutei [Bakin], Ryiitei, Kyoden, and the like; if it is a success, they can sell7,000."50 Inaka Genji was in a class by itself: Konta Yoz6 estimates total editions of over 10,000, while Suwa Haruo assumes

146

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

over 15,000. With great precision, Aeba Koson insists on sales of 14,000 to 15,000 copies for Inaka Genji, even at the exorbitant price of 2.5 monme (225-250 mon) the chapter. 5 1 The appeal of Inaka Genji extended to all segments of society. According to Aeba Koson in 1892, Inaka Genji mirrored the life and loves of Ienari. Far from anger or resentment, Koson assures us, Ienari's reaction after perusing a few chapters was one of delight: ''With a broad smile he concluded, 'This is a diverting work; order a full set.' And from that moment onward, the popularity of the work in the palace and private apartments was indeed remarkable."52 The source is not unimpeachable, but for Koson, writing fifty years after the Tenpo Reform, it did not seem incredible that the shogun himself was responsible for popularizing the work. In later years, Matsudaira Naritami {1814-1891), the fourteenth son of Ienari and later daimyo of the Tsuyama fief in Mimasaka, earned a high reputation as a sober and intelligent administrator of his domains. In the late 1860s, he stood as protector to Tokugawa Iesato {1863-1940), the heir to the shogunal family fortune after the abdication of Yoshinobu/Keiki {1837-1913). In earlier years, however, Naritami's behavior frequently bordered on the eccentric. In his castle at Tsuyama, so report has it, he was fond of reenacting scenes from his favorite gokan, Inaka Genji, at great length and himself relished the role of Mitsuuji. 53 Among the most avid readers of Tanehikds work by some accounts were the residents of the Ooku, or "inner apartments," the ladies of the shogunal entourage and their servants. While some of the Ooku elite did perform significant daily chores and duties, for the great majority of Ooku occupants there was little to alleviate the tedium and monotony of a strictly supervised confinement. Kusazoshi, like the yayoi shibai spring kabuki theatricals specifically designed to attract Ooku ladies on their annual leave, were a prime source of entertainment and distraction. Mitamura Engyo {1870-1952), antiquarian and connoisseur of things Edo, relates how his grandmother entered service in the Ooku as an okozo, essentially a young errand girl, during the period when Ieyoshi was shogun and Ienari was living in retirement, that is, between 1837 and 1841. 54 During this time, his grandmother recalled, all the women in the nagatsubone, the central Ooku apartment clusters, read kusazoshi;

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

147

the works were to be found in every room without exception, and were the preferred reading matter of consort and chambermaid alike. Though herself several years the junior of the 13- or 14-year-old girls who constituted the majority of o-kozo, Engyds grandmother was determined not to fall behind them in kusazoshi expertise, and purchased her own copy of Inaka Genji as a vade mecum. At a later period, Engyds grandmother advanced to the ranks of the o-heya-gata ladies-in-waiting. By the late Edo period, service in the Ooku, indeed service in any prosperous samurai household, had become more a glorified finishing school than any hereditary prerogative: Wealthy merchants, even farmers, spurred by expectations that exposure to this cloistered sanctuary of elegance and womanly virtues would enhance their daughters' subsequent prospects as brides, paid to have their daughters registered as assistants in the Ooku. The ranks of the o-heya·gata, in particular, were swollen with these privileged young women, who disposed of considerable free time and pocket money. Among this class, Engyds grandmother assured him, the readership of Inaka Genji was phenomenal. Engyo concludes that the special rarefied atmosphere of Inaka Genji was in fact designed to appeal directly to the women of the Ooku, and to flatter their self-perception as the arbiters of feminine taste. Faithful readers for the serial in these elevated circles did not decline in numbers or lapse in fanaticism in later years. When Tanehiko fell gravely ill in the summer and autumn of 1841, a sodality of devoted ladies in the honmaru innermost perimeter of the Edo Castle complex rendered up prayers and carried out ascetic exercises to beg for Tanehikds restored health and the uninterrupted publication of Inaka Genji. One member of their ranks, a certain Matsue, went several steps beyond her sisters in this vigil. For seven successive days, Matsue commissioned proxy pilgrimages to the Horinouchi Myohoji Temple (now in eastern Suginami ward, Tokyo), a major suburban temple known for its efficacious wonder-working image of the saintly Nichiren (1222-1282). Matsue's pilgrimages and her offerings to the priests to subsidize prayers for Tanehiko were innocent enough, but, to her ultimate undoing, her agent laid each day without fail texts sealed in offertory wrappers before the altar. News of her secret devotions leaked out, and it was whispered

148

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

that the sealed offerings and prayers were in fact some variety of witchcraft or incantation against her enemies, even against the shogun Ieyoshi. Kakure-metsuke, secret intelligence agents of the bakufu, were despatched to investigate the situation, but, upon undoing the incriminating bundles, all they discovered were volumes of Inaka Genji-a secular sutra, in fact, for temple offerings. Matsue was exonerated almost immediately but could not avoid the stern censure of the hiroshiki-ban, the security and supply offices immediately outside the shogun's private apartments. Shortly thereafter she was dismissed from service for her irregular actions. 55 Not only in Edo, but in the provinces as well, Inaka Genji attracted its share of enthusiasts. Kimura Michiaki/Mokuro (1774-1856), a karo senior councilor of the Takamatsu han in northeastern Shikoku, was an eager devotee of kusazoshi fiction. His adulation of and voluminous correspondence with Bakin are well known. But this same ardent provincial partisan of Bakin was in addition a fervent partisan of Tanehiko: When in later years Mokur6 traveled to Edo, he made a special point of visiting Tanehiko and presenting gifts. 56 From Ise province, Tonomura Josai (1779-1847), a wealthy merchant and sometime disciple of Norinaga, wrote repeatedly to Bakin in praise of Inaka Genji, and urged him to peruse it. 57 The Onoya Sohachi/Daiso lending library of Nagoya, largest of its kind, stocked 5 complete sets of Inaka Genji in response to reader demand; no other gokan work required as many shelf copies. (By contrast, only one copy of Genji monogatari and of Kigin's Kogetsusho commentary proved adequate for patrons' needs during more than a century of operation.)5s In Tsuruoka, a commercial center some 270 miles north of Edo, a passing vagrant earned himself a sumptuous meal and full hospitality simply by claiming to be the illustrious author of Inaka Genji. 59 Bakin records a similar anecdote about the town of Matsusaka near Ise, about 250 miles west of Edo. Here, however, the impostor Tanehiko was found out, and in his defense revised his tale to style himself a mere disciple of Tanehiko. The townspeople, far from taking umbrage at this demonstration of their credulity, became all the more cordial in their reception. 60 Since the inhabitants of Ise province had a proverbial reputation for being spinners of tall tales or liars, it is possible that this anec-

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

149

dote is meant to poke dry fun at a local connoisseurship of mendacity. The annals of the Edo period are replete with instances of sincere or fraudulent masters of calligraphy, poetry, and other polite arts who gained an easy livelihood from the avidity of rural pupils for urban culture-in effect one-man chautauquas on perpetual provincial tour. 61 That an impostor Tanehiko should receive such a lavish greeting suggests a contemporary rural perception of gesaku as a manifestation of high urban culture no less than the latest fashions in painting or haikai verse. Such was the popularity of Inaka Genji that it overshadowed, even supplanted upon occasion, knowledge of the characters and story of Genji monogatari. Yoda Gakkai (1833-1909) remarks how Mitsuuji became close to the hearts of many who had never heard of Hikaru Genji, his radiant precursor. Maeda Ai (1932-1987) recalls how, as a child in the 1940s, his grandmother would sometimes tell him stories of "Genji monogatari," when in fact her tales were of Mitsuuji and Fuji no Kata, Lord Yoshimasa and Toyoshi no Mae. 62 Another possible example, closer in time to Inaka Genji but not datable, was related to Mizutani Yumihiko by the kabuki historian and Edo antiquarian Sekine Shisei (1825-1893). In one subsidized communal residence for lower samurai in the rough-and-tumble Hatcho-bori district, the popularity of Inaka Genji knew no bounds and was a favorite topic of conversation among female residents. Encouraged by the potential inherent in the situation for sparking a love of the classics, a certain samurai resident sponsored an aged scholar to offer a series of free public lectures on Genji monogatari. All seemed to be going well on the first day, when 50 to 60 eager participants appeared. The lecturer was delighted and treated his entire audience to tea and cakes. This show of munificence, however, was not in and of itself adequate to ensure a full house: On the second evening, a scant 25 students appeared; the third evening, a paltry 6. Alarmed by this precipitous decrease in enrollment, the aged scholar made the rounds of earlier participants' apartments the fourth night, only to be told his pupils had caught colds or, most regrettably, had previous engagements to attend. The well-intended plan came to nothing. Small wonder, the lecturer concluded sadly to himself, that the vulgarities of kabuki had achieved prominence over

150

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842)

the classical no and kyogen dramas. 63 Some of the attrition can be ascribed to the academic unreceptivity of the would-be pupils, but certainly another probable cause of absenteeism was that participants expected to hear about their own Inaka Genji, and were disappointed at the lectures on what seemed to them quite an alien topic. During the term of its publication, Inaka Genji became the target of extensive commercial exploitation. The preface to Chapter 38 {1842) suggests the extent of Inaka Genji "mania'' and the universal recognition of so seemingly inconsequential a detail as Mitsuuji's hair style: It was Kamedo's [Kunisada's] idea to portray Mitsuuji in this story sporting a "general's topknot" parted in the front like a shrimp tail. At first even I thought it a peculiar hair style, but, as I became accustomed to seeing it reproduced on votary plaques, battledores, and quilted pictures; on offertory articles in temple courtyards at fair time or lanterns hanging from the eaves of the Yoshiwara; on round hand-fans, to be sure, but also in the shape of rice crackers-then even I ceased to think it unusual or bizarre.64

The hair styles of Inaka Genji, unremarkable as they appear to our eyes, caught on with wildfire popularity: In the effort to become a second Murasaki or a Tamakuzu, women dunned their hair stylists relentlessly-or so we may infer from a telling passage in Shunsui's ninjobon, Tamausagi Oade hare; 1830s?), in which two female protagonists, 0Kume and O.:fatsu, pass the time of day in idle "tea klatsch'' chatter: What do you think, 0-Kume-aren't Shohon-jitate and Inaka Genji the most exciting gokan? 0-Kume: Well, when it comes to gokan, Tanehiko certainly is tops for entertainment. O!fatsu: But you know, all the Shimada hairdos in the illustrations are bunched up so high. 0-Kume: I know, but then again there are such a lot of chic topknot and hair styles in Inaka Genji. That reminds me what a friend of mine-a lady hairdresser-was telling me just the other day. She told me that the regular customers on her list take out a copy of Inaka Genji, set it down beside them, and ask her to set their hair just like this or just like that, thank you. It's the death of her! And then this same hairdresser friend, she says to me with a big laugh, "I've just had it with this writer Tanehiko! He goes and writes a fancy book like Inaka Genji-makes life hard even for us poor stylists!" O!fatsu:

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842} O.:r'atsu:

151

But you know, fve heard that this year's brand-new Shokoku mono-

gatari is Tanehikds best ever!6S

The single preface Genji- came to adorn any number of products: Mizutani Yumihiko notes the merchandising of Genji-zushi raw seafood delicacies, Genji-senbei rice crackers, Genji-soba buckwheat noodles. 66 The Genji-ko "Genji incense'' or Genji-mon "Genji crest" S-hand code markings for the chapters of Genji monogatari enjoyed renewed currency as trademarks or decorations. Children, too, shared in the fun. One 1855 sugoroku board-in its Edo period version, a board game equivalent to the English "snakes and ladders," in which landing on certain squares promotes, on other squares demotes an advancing tokenthat took as its motif famous kusazoshi works used Inaka Genji as an agari "promotion" square. 67 In my possession is another relic of the percolation of the work to the very young. Acquired in Shizuoka, this set of Inaka Genji paper dolls was originally printed in Tokyo in 1895. The set portrays the front and back of Mitsuuji, Akashi-hime, Wakamurasaki, and an unidentified lap dog, to be cut out and pasted on either side of a cardboard backing. The glaring chemical reds and purples, heavy black outlines, and smudgy registration could not be at a farther remove from the technical refinement of Kunisada's workmanship, but the cheap set suggests no less vividly than the dog-eared original kusazoshi the enduring delight and general familiarity of Inaka Genji. In the world of graphic arts, the popularity of Inaka Genji received plenary recognition. Themes from Genji monogatari, seriously or lightly intended, had been a staple of illustrators from the earliest days of ukiyo-e. Genji-e "Genji pictures" of scenes from the Heian classic in modern dress or of Murasaki Shikibu's receiving her inspiration to write while contemplating moonlight on Lake Biwa are extant in large quantities from the studios of Hishikawa Moronobu, the patriarch of ukiyo-e prints. The term Genji-e in modern usage, however, refers to the literally thousands of nishiki-e polychrome prints, a whole subgenre of works, based directly or indirectly on Kunisada's illustrations to Inaka Genji and produced between about 1830 and 1890. 68 As much responsible for the success of Inaka Genji as Tanehiko's text were the indispensable illus-

152

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

trations by Kunisada. Bakin, ever acerbic, declared the illustrations the single best feature of the entire work. 69 As the popularity of the work grew, so did the diffusion of Kunisada's graphic conception. Yoda Gakkai reports that the well-to-do had their windows, ceilings, gardens, and balustrades fashioned to resemble those in Inaka Genji, that reproductions of Inaka Genji illustrations were to be found in the patterns of garments, paper watermarks, screens and sliding doors, even in shrines and temple furnishings/ 0 On the occasion of the Kameido Tenmangu Shrine celebration in the spring of 1839, local woodworkers and craftsmen presented a number of votary plaques, among them one with scenes from Inaka Genji. 71 It is likely that Kunisada from his residence in the immediate vicinity of the shrine commissioned or collaborated on the plaque as a thanksgiving offering for one of his most outstanding successes. The duplication of the popular theme in ukiyo-e wood-block prints was inevitable. Other artists in the Utagawa School like Kuniyoshi (1797-1862) and Ando Hiroshige (1797-1858) took immediate inspiration from Kunisada's example and were the first to produce the new style of Genji-e around 1834, but soon the most diverse schools and studios had taken the subject to heart. 72 When the theme was at its heyday in the 1840s and 1850s, there was virtually no ukiyo-e artist who did not produce examples of Genji-e; Mitsuuji and his cohorts retained vitality in prints through the age of Yoshitoshi (1839-1892). The scenes of Inaka Genji challenged the skills of the artist whose forte lay in bijin-ga (portraits of beauties); the subject allowed scope for the artist skilled in the dramatic poses of warriors or actors; it even provided opportunities for the landscape artist. The blend of modernity and stage antiquity implicit in the original Kunisada illustrations set a fertile precedent for artistic anachronisms and confusions of settings in the interests of colorful composition: A Meiji depiction of Mitsuuji shows him as a fashionable enlightened man about town with a jaunty walking stick, while another set portrays him in 1870 driving a carriage and pair, or next to a telegraph.73 Plays, parades, prints, and novelties offer indirect evidence of the popularity Inaka Genji enjoyed during and after its publication. Contemporary critical, or even incidental literary references to the work, though, are woefully few.

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

153

A senryu epigram published in the periodical senryu anthology [Haifu] Yanagidaru (Sake tub in haikai style; initiated 1765) around 1833 takes note of the celebrity of Tanehiko's latest venture: Inaka Genji de Ryatei ga hata wo age

Ryatei [''Willow Pavilion''] hoists his flag with Inaka Genji/4

Since Tanehiko had been active in the compilation of Yanagidaru for several years, however, this flattering accolade probably owes as much to professional courtesy as to general acclaim. Edo meibutsu shi (Poems on famous products of Edo; preface date 1836), a heavily commercial compilation of kyoshi (light Chinese verse) on the notable manufactures of the metropolis, presents the following quatrain to characterize the Tsuruya publishing house in Toriabura-cho: Likenesses [nigao] of actors by Kunisada's brush Reproduce theatrical dramas, are the talk of the Three Cities. And recently, too, there are popular pictures: lllustrations of Inaka Genji, in many chapters/5

The wording is vague enough to leave the reader wondering whether Inaka Genji or derivative Genji-e prints are being extolled. Contemporary fiction alludes on occasion to the outstanding success of the serial. The favorable comments of 0-Kume and O.:fatsu in Shunsui's Tamausagi, already cited, are echoed in a passage from a later Shunsui ninjobon, Shunshoku koi no shiranami (Spring voluptuousness brigands of love; 1838-1841), in which a character comments on her preferred reading matter: "My favorites are books like Harutsuge-dori or Umegoyomi. Inaka Genji, the gokan, is nice, too." 76 The implication of overlapping readerships of long ninjobon and Inaka Genji is intriguing, although we are frustrated not to know more clearly the reasons for the character's opinions. Kimura Mokur6 exemplifies the vagueness of most contemporary criticism in his Kokuji shosetsu tsu (An expert guide to vernacular novels, 1849), during a discussion of the evolution of kusazoshi: Eventually, kusazoshi became the playthings of adults. In the Bunka period [1804-1818], the format was increasingly successful: The number of pages

154

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

increased, "mountain paper" printing[?] became widespread, covers appeared in brilliant full color. The price shot up to 100 and, in some cases, over 120 mon. As if this were not enough, serial works 5 or 10 chapters long appeared. Among all these titles, we may designate Tanehiko's Inaka Genji, Bakin's Keisei Suikoden, and his Shinpen Kinpeibai as "the essence of the gokan kusazoshi."77

The earliest, most extensive, and probably most thoughtful contemporary critiques of Tanehiko's achievement appear in the public and private writings of Kyokutei Bakin. After the repeated triumphs of his serial gokan and voluminous yomihon, Bakin's star was at its zenith during the 1830s. His temperament, however, could not brook a calm coexistence with his rival of twenty years. A grudging acknowledgment of commercial success informs Bakin's characterization of Inaka Genji in Kinsei mononohon Edo sakusha burui (1834): His gokan work Inaka Genji, first published in the spring of 1830 [sic], enjoyed a hearty acclaim. (Printed by Tsuruya.) Kunisada did the illustrations for this work as well-his pictures more wonderful than ever. Already the work has continued through many chapters (but each chapter consists of just 20 pages, in 2 gokan fascicles). They herald it as the supreme kusazoshi masterwork of the day-and Tanehiko himself, they say, prides himself greatly on the accomplishment. He is not a man of extensive learning, but the general consensus of women and children is that he is far superior to other writers by virtue of his "wild genius."7s

Vanity and arrogated learning are charges Bakin levels frequently against Tanehiko in these later writings. His prominence Bakin attributes to kyosai (wild talent), an undisciplined genius, undependable, without the underpinning of diligent scholarship, but occasionally madly successful.79 Such craftsmanship and polish as Inaka Genji does display, Bakin cautions, are largely borrowed, from the multitudes of old joruri texts in the author's library, or from the numerous second-rate vulgarizations of Genji generated since the Genroku period: As I think of it, there have been numerous works since the Genroku period to reduce Genji monogatari into common language, and to make of it a toy for women and children. Among these are Onna gokyo, Akashi monogatari in 5 fascicles (printed text from 1681); Fnryn Genji (old printed text from midGenroku); Wakakusa Genji (printed text from 1706); Hinazuru Genji (sequel to same); Saru Genji (printed text from 1718, a veiled account of the Ejima-

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (1829-1842}

155

Ikushima incident). Doubtless there are others. Inaka Genji secretly traces its "parentage" back to these. It is the common failing of men to grasp at branches while ignoring the root. Just the other day, I heard that a "middlesized book" [chuhon·mono, that is, kokkeibon or ninjobon] entitled Something· something Genji had appeared, that there are even those who ape Tanehikds own quirks. When I consider that there are no authors able to rise even to the level of a Tanehiko, then I am forced to conclude how rare and difficult a thing indeed is true erudition. 80

Bakin's imputation that Tanehiko has relied exclusively on Genroku derivates of Genji is surely in error, and perhaps a willful misrepresentation of the Genroku elements in the work. The detail of Bakin's scowling enumeration of additional possible sources, however, suggests a reluctant fascination with the concept of a "modern Genji." Earlier than Kinsei mononohon Edo sakusha burui, and a more private exposition of opinion, are Bakin's letters and diary entries of 1831. By spring 1831, 5 chapters of Inaka Genji were in circulation; the installments concluded with the sensational confessions and suicides of Shinonome and her daughter. In the first pertinent letter, dated 3 April1831, and addressed to his faithful correspondent Tonomura Josai, Bakin responds to Josai's urgings to read the work: After your frequent reports about how interesting Ryutei Tanehikds lnaka Genji is, I resolved to have a look at it. But I have not enjoyed the leisure to do so, nor read it yet. They say he is a man of talent, and I have heard much favorable report of him.81

The discussion lapses into rumors of Tanehiko's serious incapacitating illness, and the likelihood of a long hiatus in his productivity (see Chapter 6). A second letter some two months later, dated 25 May 1831, reports progress toward the task of reading, but little alacrity: I recently purchased a copy of Inaka Genji from the Tsuruya, that you so often have praised. But because of many other obligations, I have not glanced at a single page of it yet. I am letting my son and daughters read it. 82

About ten days after this second letter, Bakin finally peruses the first two chapters of Inaka Genji. The diary entry for 4 June 1831 includes the reading among other leisure activities:

156

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

Rested from writing all day. Read Chapters 1 and 2 (4 fascicles) of Tanehiko

gokan, Inaka Genji. Had crown of head shaved, rested in evening. 83

Bakin conveys his initial impressions, as promised, in a lengthy letter two days later. 84 Perhaps out of deference to Josai's high opinions of the work, Bakin opens by conceding certain good points: Yesterday I read Chapters 1 and 2 (4 fascicles) of Inaka Genji, which you have had the kindness to mention to me repeatedly. Yes; it does come off well. It is only natural that girls and boys should enjoy it. Kunisada's illustrations [of? and?] the transformed "oxcart quarrel" are great successes. And not to have Fujitsubo commit any real improprieties is very good indeed.

The extreme theatricality of the initial chapters, however, irritates Bakin: But the plot is entirely limited to [the conventions of?] gokan; if one examines every incident separately, only preposterous things remain. Although this is where it most hits the mark, this success is not, in fact, the result of the author's original concepts [ryoken]. Because of the author's serious intent, the work does appear, now and again, to be full of novel conceptions [?]. This is because Tanehiko owns some 200 or 300 examples of gidayfl puppet-theater texts, old and new. For some years now, I have heard that he simply combines and recombines these old gidayfl texts for his purposes. To be sure, this Inaka Genji is merely a foreshortened version of a gidayfl text. It does not conform to the standard aspect of a gokan work at all. One could call this novelty, if one were so inclined.

Tanehiko's learning is not true learning, but a specious counterfeit: His talents are ten times inferior to those of the late Kyoden. If this is the grand master of all contemporary gesaku writers, then I must sigh and lament that there are no men of true talent [any more]. He l.s content to write everything in a perfunctory, sketchy way.

Here the text of the letter begins to cite specific shortcomings. The murder of Hirugao, Yoshimasa's sinister slighted concubine, after an exchange of bedrooms, the murder of Dorozo resulting from a similar confusion constitute a reduplication of shuko or plot device within too brief an interval-an· acknowledged defect for gokan authors, who prided themselves on their vast repertory of innovative twists to stories. There are gauche errors in orthography that the joint efforts of Tanehiko and his talented wife apparently have been incapable of detecting

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842)

157

(possibly a reference to the unusually high frequency of simplified characters in the first preface, first edition). There is implicit criticism of the author's abbreviated, 20-page chapters-evidence of standards far less rigorous than Bakin's own. On the positive side of the balance, Bakin is unstinting in his praise for Kunisada, whose brilliance rescues the work from Tanehikds incompetent designs: Kunisada's illustrations, though, are most excellent. Tanehiko is incapable of elementary draftsmanship, so he simply draws a circle where the figures should be placed, and leaves all the rest to the artist's own discretion. (Perhaps, for this reason, the illustrations are ten times better than when I had him illustrate my works., Considering his skill, you would think yomihon illustration would suit Kunisada far better. But when they have him do yomihon illustrations, oddly, they turn out ten times worse.) ... Kunisada must be termed the current grand master of gokan illustration. 85

The majority of Bakin's positive remarks, however, are patromzmg admissions that Tanehiko has a flair for commercial success-and a willingness, by implication, to sacrifice artistic integrity on a copper altar. And since the reputation of this "Genjt" is, as the common saying goes, "exalted and impossible to avoid," I shall not bother to record it here.... But in any event, it is a skilled work, a fine book indeed; it enjoys great esteem, and I am certain the publisher will profit greatly by it. To quibble about this or that small detail might be mistaken for envious backbiting. The men of old had their saying: ''Do not find fault with things at their zenith." All I can say, then, is that I am content, most content.... He appears very anxious lest he be thought to have imitated the works of others, and so in the place of f~ -;r.. ["is modeled after'1 he writes ~t..,:.. _, and he encloses the numbers of his fascicles in little concentric squares instead of circles. The meanings of ~.k and ~~ are certainly not the same, but this, too, is not a point crucial for sales. It is, of course, the realm of gokan to sanction what is silly and absurd-so what choice have we, in fact, but to designate this a masterpiece? ... To win success without really trying-why, is this not additional proof of his ranking as a great author?

The letter concludes with Bakin's assurances that he will peruse the rest, as circumstances allow:

158

Nise Murasaki inaka Genji {1829-1842}

When I have a little more time to spare, I shall read on, through the 5th chapter. But I cannot see well enough to read it by lamplight in the evenings as I lie prone; during the daytime, I have too much business, and no leisure to read it. But then again, even without reading the remainder, I have a pretty good idea of the contents and the author's skill. It has been very enlightening to me; I am most grateful for your great kindness [in recommending the work].

(Undoubtedly Tonomura Josai thought twice before tendering any further book recommendations to his correspondent.)

SIX

The Willow in Autumn

Sketchy as the evidence is for the first half of Tanehiko's life, the latter half is even more baffling to the biographer. The twenty-six years between the conclusion of the diaries and Tanehiko's death constitute a span of dim conjecture, a penumbra only occasionally relieved by a bright fact or a flicker of rumor. One by one, his rivals departed the arena: Kyoden died in 1816, Sanba and Enba in 1822, Ikku in 1831. In the 1820s and 1830s, only Bakin and Santa Kyozan survived the attrition of gesaku authors and posed a challenge to Tanehiko's preeminence in the realm of gokan fiction. Paradoxically, this time of greatest celebrity is the period about which the biographer can say the least. Such documentation as there is clusters around the circumstances of the author's death-an episode ripe for speculation, and fraught with tragically romantic possibilities, certainly, but of little import in understanding Tanehikds background or evolution as an artist. A certain indication of the author's increasing renown after the first installments of the Shohon-jitate series is the ready acquisition of disciples. By 1817, his name appears as the editor of a gokan by the otherwise unknown figure Meikeian. It is possible to enumerate in subsequent years some twenty authors who claimed a direct or mediated contact with Tanehiko; their backgrounds, extremely varied, reflect the broad base of gesaku authorship in the nineteenth century. Among them we note especially members of the samurai class, like Bokusentei Yukimaro (1797-1856), a vassal of the Takada fief (Echigo) residing in Edo, or

160

The Willow in Autumn

Yanagiya Kikuhiko-a gokenin direct vassal, by Bakin's account. 1 The successful dual roles of the senior author's career might have attracted these students. What is more, many provincial hopefuls figure among the disciples-a situation that may betoken a reputation for encouraging rural amateurs. The preface to a gokan of 1832, Hana fubuki en no shigarami (Flower blizzard weir of karma), demonstrates the author's solicitude toward talented unknowns: It would be distasteful to present here a portrait of balding old man Tanehiko making his reverences, so I have borrowed a local girl and presented her here instead. This soshi booklet is the work of an anonymous author in Isobe village, Koza district, Sagami province. Last year, four or five manuscripts were sent to me for my consideration. According to the attached letters, the author was busy with farm labors and had aged parents, and so could not come to Edo for a visit. Might these poor works of mine become kusazoshi? his letters asked. He wrote h,is common name, but I do not know his literary name. I preserved his manuscripts until this year, expecting to learn his literary name, but there has been no subsequent correspondence. I certainly would enjoy meeting this individual, whose attachment to this avocation is so resolute, but I myself am unable to travel to see him. I had no way to ascertain whether I :would do well to publish his common name, and so, quite arbitrarily, I used the name of his village as his literary name. If anyone among my many readers should know this author, let him inform Tsuruya the publisher of the appropriate literary name. 2

Tanehiko christens the literary aspirant Soshu Isobe ''Mr. Isobe of Sagami province" {that is, from lsobe-mura, a village about 25 miles southwest of Edo). At other times, the author's solicitude and literary encouragement might not have been as welcome. In a conversation of 1897, the baku-. matsu and Meiji period political titan Katsu Kaishu (1823-1899) recalled with some apparent dread the visits of "Uncle Tanehiko," venerable litterateur, to the family home in Honjo: My father and he were on the warmest of terms, and Tanehiko would come to visit us frequently. He would grab me and say, "Say, my boy, if you like books, come and have a look at mine; fve got lots of notes and background information [kosho] for novels." Or at other times he would say to me, ''If you've got the time, why not try writing a novel?" and would lend me what seemed to be confidential memos on novel-writing. 3

The Willow in Autumn

161

There can be no question about the welcomeness of Tanehiko's guidance for his principal disciple, Ryiitei Senka (1804-1868}. From an early age, Senka showed little inclination to follow his father's footsteps as an officiant at the Atsuta Shrine near Nagoya; his literary ambitions blossomed in isolation during his twenties. From about 1829 until 1835, Senka cultivated an intense friendship with Tanehiko, by correspondence primarily but also by occasional visits to Edo. Under Tanehiko's sponsorship, Senka's first gokan appeared on the market in 1831. The relationship between the two authors cooled after 1835-possibly after Tanehiko learned, to his hurt, that Senka unjustly suspected him of pocketing some portion of publishers' manuscript payments before forwarding the remainder to Nagoya-but in its initial years, the association sparked the creativity of both parties. 4 The correspondence between Tanehiko and Senka, though extensive, exists today only in fragmentary form. Two complete letters-probably from the spring of 1831-do survive, to suggest the magnitude of the loss. 5 In style choppy and chaotic, in allusion often obscure, the letters offer rare glimpses of the author's life at the zenith of his career. The intimate tone, often disarmingly frank even by modern standards, reveals a very different figure from the solemn, starchy young man of the diaries, or the deliberate whimsical pedant of the gokan prefaces. The longer of the two full letters is also the more intriguing for its detailed remarks on the editorial process and for its portrait of a rather neurotic domesticity: "I received your letter sent by ordinary courier before your letter sent by express service; the latter arrived the afternoon of the 29th. I am writing you this reply on the 1st of the month." The courier service between Nagoya and Edo left much to be desired, as we may infer from the opening of this letter and the next. The date at the end of the letter is the 1st day of the 2nd month, probably Tenpo 2:2:1/14 March 1831: Concerning the text. People say that Master Kyozan's rendition of Shui hu chuan has too many Japanese colloquialisms, and is not true to the manner of the original. From Chapter 7, a competent individual was requested to write a translation [to aid Kyozan?]; some 20 pages of manuscript have resulted. His use of slang is particularly atrocious-as, for example, when he writes Kono hattsuke-yaro (You gallows bird!) and glosses it parenthetically as Kuso de mo

162

1be Willow in Autumn

kurae (Eat shit, you bastard!) The publisher, convinced that he could never sell the work as it stood, sent me [the manuscript] with a small advance, and asked me to rewrite it. I have sent you letters already concerning style, and shall not pursue the matter. I am well aware of slang terms, spelling errors, ... [text illegible] tendencies. Since all corrections must travel back and forth, one hundred leagues in each direction, I shall leave the text as it stands, and only correct the places that jar excessively against the ear, like the use of kaka for "wife."

This paragraph introduces the main business of the letter: a request for Senka to continue a work Tanehiko had begun. In 1829, a consortium of six publishers had issued the first 6 chapters of Yomihon Suikoden (Novel Shui hu chuan), a "translation'' by SantO Kyozan of the great Chinese vernacular romance. The "translation," however, was probably more of an adaptation int~ simple gokan style of one or more existing Japanese vocalizations, translations, or fictional renditions of the work, such as Okajima Kanzan's (1674-1728) Tsuzoku Chugi Suikoden (A vernacular Chung-i Shui hu chuan; published 1757-1790) or SantO Kyoden's Chushin Suikoden (Loyal retainers' Shui hu chuan, 17991801).6 Kyozan's rendition of the work, marred by carelessness and unseemly vulgarity, was unlikely to prove a commercial success. Shui hu chuan mania, meanwhile, stoked by Bakin's serial Keisei Suikoden (Courtesans' Shui hu chuan, 1825-1835) and fanned by Kuniyoshi's hugely successful print series of the ruffian heroes, was at fever pitch: Shui hu figures glowered, ubiquitous, from tattoos, kites, kiseru pipes, even the noren doorway curtains of barbershops/ In desperation, the publishers requested Tanehiko to rewrite the subsequent Kyozan manuscripts, but soon discarded Kyozan's efforts entirely in favor of Tanehiko's independent work. Retitled Kana-gaki Suikoden (Shui hu chuan in kana script), Chapters 7 and 8, by Tanehiko, appeared in 1830; Tanehiko's Chapter 9 debuted in spring 1831. At this point, Tanehiko either wearied of the project, or saw in it a good exercise for his new disciple, Senka. In this letter, he delegates responsibility for the project to the young man, and offers odd scraps of advice. Chapter 10 of Kana-gaki Suikoden, written by Senka and "edited by Ryutei Tanehiko," appeared in the spring of 1832 in Edo; Chapters 11 and 12, similarly ascribed, followed in 1833. From Chapter

The Willow in Autumn

163

13 in 1835 through 20 in 1857, the "translation'' is wholly Senka's, and

there are no further Tanehiko prefaces to the sequel. From Chapter 11 onward, I think a somewhat more formal style would be desirable-but, mind you, not too stiff. You must judge for yourself as you go along. Concerning translations. It is well that one takes pains when occasion demands, but these days almost anything will do, provided the general meaning gets across and it sells. Just make sure it doesn't look like you're rewriting with some tsflzoku colloquial "trot." I am unversed in these matters, and so have been visiting novel-reciters' [shosetsu-yomi ] homes, gratuities in hand, to seek their counsel. Take the phrase "the hua ch'iang that Lin Ch'ung held." One novel-reciter reads this as teyari "hand spear," another as kazariyari "adorned spear." Lin Ch'ung does buy a sword, but there's no episode where he buys a spear. Where'd he get this spear of his? I seem to recall that Master Kyokutei is of the opinion that "they let him purchase the spear at the same time as the sword." But I think Bakin is up a tree, and doesn't have any idea where it comes from. One novel-reciter told me: "The text speaks of an 'adorned spear,' but this does not imply a spear with no shaft. He is set to guard the fodder depot, and brandishes a decorated spear for effect. That is why there is no mention of origins for your spear. In China, positively everyone knows the story, and that is why they do not bother to tell the origin, etc. etc." Maybe he was just making it all up, but it sounded plausible enough, and so I wrote in a passage where Lin Ch'ung gets his "adorned spear" on the basis of this explanation, even though such an incident is absent in the original. There are several other blunders of this sort in the 60 pages I myself have written. I've given wives to bachelors, as I saw fit, or written in, at whim, idle gossip and lies my mother has told me; as long as it's interesting, I'm not too concerned about where it comes from. ''Please redesign the illustrations with affixed correction slips for Kuniyoshi's ease in drawing." Well, manage this however you like. If you work too hard on a translation, you'll end up with phrases like kazeame hageshiku "The wind-rain was raging." And even if you leave it as)tLGfu it still will come out as amekaze (rain-wind} when you render it in kana script. Most important is to feel you are creating a work in the spirit of Shui hu chuan [Suiko no i wo ukete saku wo suru]. In my 60 pages, in the section ''Yang Chih Shoots his Bow," I've written: ''His left arm straining, taut enough to bear a great mountain, ... He drew the string tenderly in the grip of his right hand, as if cradling an infant. The bow arched like the waxing moon; the arrow sped more swiftly than a shooting star." This much fits well into the compass of a translation, but what follows is

164

The Willow in Autumn

my own original creation [saku], not pure translation [yaku]. You cannot simply write out Shui hu chuan as it is, in kana. It won't sell as it's written. You will not find "See, here are Lin Ch'ung's bones. Come, then, and gather them" in the original Shui hu chuan: It is my own creation. I shall be glad to request explanations of points for you from the novel-reciters and convey them to you, but opinions differ from person to person, and I doubt that you can rely on them for much. 8

Kana-gaki Suikoden is the only project of its kind Tanehiko undertook, and it is obvious that he found it more than usually trying. His natural inclination to ascertain precise details, manifested here by the query about a minor textual point addressed to several "authorities," was frustrated by his lack of background in Chinese matters, as well as by the ignorance of his informants. Fidelity to the original Chinese narrative, however, was the least of the publisher's requirements, while swashbuckling adventure and excitement were at a premium. Some of the blatantly cynical, devil-may-care attitude Tanehiko displays in these paragraphs toward fidelity-a casualness wholly out of keeping with his fundamental literary tenets-must be read as sublimated anger or exasperation that his own high code of literary ethics counted for so little in the endeavor. In a vindictive mood, he even tosses in chitchat and gossip supplied by his aged mother to "sabotage" the odious manuscript. He has attempted to justify the liberties of his adaptation by assuring himself that a literal translation or close rendition (yaku) cannot stand on its own merits, and that, to gain any sort of readership, the finished product must include generous underpinnings of original material (saku) in the traditional vein. This mental compromise he urges on Senka, but the exhortation is somewhat lacking in conviction. The changes in level of diction in the allusion to Kyokutei Bakin suggest that Tanehiko is quoting a letter from Bakin, or perhaps a critical work. A similar shift in formality when mentioning the illustrations sounds like a quotation of a publisher's memorandum. If this is, as seems likely, a cover letter to accompany manuscript drafts, then it is also likely that Tanehiko would forward a copy of the publisher's specifications or recommendations. Of the Yoko[te?] surname ... [text obscure]. Others may laugh at such matters, but I do not find them at all amusing.

The Willow in Autumn

165

I dislike sumo wrestling, and never write of it. As a samurai from Kai, I do not write ill of Lord [Takeda] Shingen, nor do I award points in grading sen· ryn to verses disparaging of Lord Shingen. In recent years I have become a believer in the Suitengll Shrine, and have made a vow not to write of the Heike. Such foolishness!

Here the import of the text alters abruptly, and changes to a discussion of favored or avoided topics in writing. (The first sentence, garbled in the transcription, is omitted.) Tanehiko's ancestry and Takeda Shingen have appeared already in the first chapter. The Suitengu Shrine mentioned here was at first a small shrine set up on the grounds of the Kuki fief (Arima) mansion, just behind the Zojoji Temple. Dedicated to the deified child-emperor Antoku {1178-1185, r. 1180-1185) and to other members of the Taira clan who perished at Dan-no-ura in 1185, the Edo shrine was opened to the general public in .1818, and immediately became the object of a ferocious cult following. The amulets sold by the shrine (efficacious against fire, flood, difficult parturition, and foreign bodies lodged in the throat) were in extreme demand. An observer in 1819 describes horrendous mob scenes outside the mansion on the one day every month when pilgrimages were permitted. Lines "so dense one cannot even insert a fingernail" formed in all directions before dawn, and injuries from jostling were not uncommon. Some more daring pilgrims would strip, partially or totally, at teahouses in the vicinity, and take advantage of the shock their undress created to dash through parted masses of pilgrims to the amulet dispensaries. 9 I have written some indications at the outset; please handle the remaining 40 pages. I can offer you about 1 monme at present. I have completed the editorial revision of your 'Jake ni suzume and sent it to the artist. I shall tell you more of this by ordinary courier.

Tanehiko returns again to Kana-gaki Suikoden. One monme, a few dollars at most, seems a paltry reward for the work involved, and was probably a token payment. The real boon to Senka was, of course, the implicit promise of publication through Tanehiko's "pull" at a major Edo publishing house. Take ni suzume is probably the working title of Senka's individual giikan man1:1script, Sato suzume take no yoasobi (Sparrow in the gay quarter, night frolics amidst bamboo), published with a

166

The Willow in Autumn

preface by Tanehiko through the Senkakudo in the spring of 1833. "The artist" is Kunisada. The topic changes abruptly, again, to the fear of thunder. Out of deference to Senka's feelings or perhaps out of superstitious dread, Tanehiko avoids all explicit use of the word kaminari "thunder": My wife, too, has been afraid of that which you fear from her early childhood, when she would hide in the closet, pull the quilts over her head, and become violently upset. Somebody told her that a good cure for this fear was to become a "disciple of Dr. T-r." The method was to prepare red-bean rice, oblatory rice cakes, bean curd, and sake, make an offering on the 1st day of the 6th month, and pray: "I beseech thee, that thou make me thy disciple." Then you must eat all four items yourself, and not let anyone else partake of them. After conducting this ritual, she gradually lost her fear of it to the point where now, on the very hottest days, she will turn to me and say calmly in a soft voice (soft, out of deference to Mother, who also is frightened of it, as well as because it is unseemly for women to be overly placid, I suppose): ''Wouldn't it be nice to have a good downpour right now?" Before she became a "disciple of Dr. T-r," she told me, her fear verged on hysteria or total frenzy. To be quite honest, I myself am not fond of it, but I control myself and affect an expression of nonchalance, since it is unbecoming for a samurai to show fear.

It is hard to say which aspect of this paragraph is most startling: the morbid fear of thunder, the "cure," or Tanehikds heroic posture. Astraphobia was widespread in the Edo period, indeed is not entirely extinct in modern Japan. Charms and talismans against thunder or lightning damage were popular, among the less likely of which figured stalks of red Indian corn trafficked at the summer festival in Asakusa. Tanehikds personal fear of thunder surfaces in several early diary passages, as in September 1816, when he makes a hurried departure from a performance of comic rakugo recitation to avoid an imminent storm. 10 Tanehikds mother is still alive at the time of writing, and a member of the household. The earlier reference to preparing the manuscript of Sato suzume for publication might suggest a date in the spring of 1832 for this letter, since the work appeared on the market early in 1833. According to her grave marker, however, Tanehikds mother died Tenpo 2:8:6/11 September 1831; spring of 1831, then, seems the most likely date for this letter.

The Willow in Autumn

167

Again, concerning Shui hu chuan. When it comes down to it, readers of Chinese books don't read e-zoshi picture books, and even if there are some who have, they are not more than one in a thousand. Just play [your readers] along, make them think, "So that's what Chinese books are like." This applies to otoshibanashi humorous anecdotes as well as to e-zoshi books. Mocked by one reader, praised by nine: Dreadful it may be, but profit's thine. Mocked by nine readers, praised by one: A splendid work! Yet profit's none.

With the recrudescence of thoughts about Kana-gaki Suikoden, Tanehikds tone suddenly becomes sharp and cynical once more. The comment about the chasm separating gokan readers and readers of Chinese books (it is impossible to know if tohon in this context means "serious works," "books imported from China," or "the original Chinese version of Shui hu chuan") is intriguing, but, again, it sounds like a rationalization for free adaptation that Tanehiko has failed to internalize. H, indeed, there could be no possibility of criticism from a reader of more faithful versions of Shui hu chuan, why would Tanehiko need to worry about Lin Ch'ung's enigmatic spear? The pair of mercenary apothegms approximates the rhythm of kyoka verses or rakushu lampoons; the metrical character somewhat mitigates the bite of their message, and the business portion of the letter terminates on an astringently humorous note. From the 21st of the 1st month, my recovery from the illness has been rapid and dramatic. On warmer days, I go for walks around the neighborhood. I have no more need for a cane, but I am afraid that my swords, which now feel so heavy, are something of a nuisance. For the moment I have had a smaller pair of swords refitted, but for permanent use I prefer the large ones. Of late fires have become infrequent, and if the wind would only stop blowing, it would seem like spring.

The illness mentioned here must have been fairly serious, even incapacitating. We know that in the late 1820s and early 1830s, Tanehiko suffered from increasingly poor health. The preface to the 1st chapter of 0-atsuraezome Toyama·ganoko (Toyama dappled design dyed to order), prepared for publication in the spring of 1830, alludes to a severe illness

168

The Willow in Autumn

in autumn 1829. Bedridden, the author wrote nothing; it was only after the ample fulminations of an anxious publisher that Tanehiko turned to the work at hand.ti Another evidence of health problems at this period is a letter Bakin addressed in April1831 to Tonomura Josai in M~tsusaka: You favor me with reports in your every letter of how fascinating a work Tanehiko's Inaka Genji is. In truth, I have intended to read it, but recently have had no leisure, and have not yet done so. They say he is a master of his art, and he enjoys increasingly favorable appraisals, but I hear also the rumor that his fund of inspiration is blocked, and that he can produce little as a consequence. They say he has become a frequent invalid in the writing of gokan, and that, as a result, he will take a three-year respite, beginning this year. All the publishers of that ilk [kusazoshi publishers] are as one in their consternation. and lamentations but, for all their pleas, the fact is that he has run out of inspiration. All this I heard by rumor when I paid a visit to Izumi-Ichi [the publisher lzumiya lchibei/Kansendo] early this year.t2

There is little attempt to camouflage the gloating as his rival stumbles on the threshold of his greatest triumph. Bakin even makes a sour pun on Tanehiko's pen name by remarking that his inspiration- in the original, his tane (seeds), the germs of new plots and inventions-have been choked or become exhausted (tane tsukae nite ... tanegire no yoshi). The illness mentioned in 0-atsuraezome must have continued, with recoveries and relapses, through 1830 and into 1831. The swords mentioned here are, of course, the daisho, the two swords that were Tanehiko's prerogative as a samurai. Fires and high winds were unfortunately frequent tandem harbingers of spring, especially common in late February and March. Memories of the disastrous fire of February 1830, which destroyed along with the Tsuruya a good quantity of the original printing blocks for Inaka Genji, could not have been far from the writer's mind. 13 In your Sato suzume work, you write ojo-zukume (forced oath) with the spelling wa-u. I wonder if you assume some connection with the word ojo (demise)? I used to think so myself until recently, and was treated like a prize fool.

J£ ::1.-K

[characters for ojo as in

ojo-zukume]

The Willow in Autumn

169

"To make someone write out a document of refusal under duress." This explanation, Sir, from the Seisuiki. I shall send out a letter by ordinary courier in a day or two. This much for now.

Tanehiko corrects a possible spelling error in Sen~a's manuscript: Senka should write the ojo of ojo-zukume as a-fu-ji-ya-u, not wa-u-ji-ya-u. This attention to minor detail, as well as a corroboratory quotation from the medieval Genpei seisuiki (Chronicle of the rise and fall of the Minamoto and Taira), show us Tanehiko in a more reassuringly conventional humor. A second complete letter from Tanehiko to Senka, preserved in the National Diet Library, is much shorter. It bears only a partial date"night, the 4th day of the 4th month''-but internal features suggest a date of Tenpo 2:4:4/15 May 1831. The superscript, "provisional reply," implies that the note served as a postscript to an earlier message. Haste, negligence, or illness again figure in the writing, and certain portions are indecipherable. There is no salutatory opening. I sent you another letter separately, which may arrive before this. Although I shall not go so far as to say that I have recovered completely from my illness, I now feel much better, and have been up and about for the last four or five days. I haven't been writing any letters at all recently, just living idly for my own amusement.

The dramatic recovery of March has yielded to a relapse, then a second convalescence. Despite his chronic ailment, the patient seems cheerful. Five chapters of Inaka Genji are on the market, the manuscript of the 6th is complete, and publishing deadlines are still months away. [Your Kana-gakt] Suikoden turned out fairly well. Chapter 12, which you sent out by express courier on the 5th [of last month], was held up by the suspension of ferry service, and only arrived here after the 20th. When you finish other works, please send them to me right away.

Senka had begun the task of revising and continuing Kana-gaki Suikoden, as Tanehiko had requested in March, and was making good progress. Tanehiko reviewed and rewrote these Senka chapters as they arrived, one by one, from Nagoya. Chapter 12 was published in Tenpo 4/1833, and one's first reaction is to assign this letter to the spring of Ten-

170

The Willow in Autumn

po 3/1832. On the letter date in 1832, however, Senka was himself in Edo, and there would have been no cause to compose this letter. Tenpo 2/1831 is again the latest and most likely date. A new regulation here in Edo-against female joruri. It goes without saying that works like my Kikyf5 [ga] tsuji take Koharu of years past, or like the illustrations at the end of Chnshin-gura, must be avoided.

Female chanters of puppet-joruri texts-a harmless enough novelty, one would think-were a pernicious development in the eye, of authorities, and were the target of repeated interdictions before and during the Tenp6 Reform. The edict mentioned here is probably from the 2nd month of Tenp6 2, i.e. March-April1831.14 Tanehiko refers to his 1820 gokan, [Koharu ]ihei] Kikyo ga tsuji chigusa no katabira (Koharu and Jihei: Bellflower crossroads pale green unlined robe), which had featured a female chanter as its main character, and alludes to illustrations of a lady gidayu prominent in his 1828 [Chushin-gura hon~n] Iroha-biki terairi setsuyo (Transformation of Chushin-gura: The schoolboy's dictionary in alphabetical order). The paragraph imparts a piece of news and at the same time, discusses the likely future repercussions of social legislation on literature. It was Tanehiko's duty as a mentor to transmit these delicate fluctuations in the social climate to his provincial disciple. The man to whom I have entrusted this letter is Tsukudajima Tazukuri, an acquaintance of yours and [associated with] Yanagidaru .. . [illegible] Please announce ... [illegible] He intends to visit Ise, tour Yamato and Shikoku, and return in early autumn. In the time left [?] I find it difficult to hold a brush because of the chronic pains in my hands. Here fve only touched briefly on the essentials.

Senryu IV dominated the production of }(magidaru from 1824 until 1837, when official disapproval of his dual life of senryu and doshin "police constable" duties forced him to resign. Senryu V, "in office'' from 1837 until1858, was in real life Mizutani Kinzo (1786-1858), a fish dealer from Tsukuda Island in Edo Bay (hence an alternative name, "Tsukudajima Tazukuri"). Tanehiko, less and less familiar with the developments in the Yanagidaru elite after 1828, is not positive of the identity of Tsukudajima, future leader of the movement: The name is written offcenter from the line of script in which it appears, evidently as a later

The Willow in Autumn

171

addition. The years 1830 and 1831 were peak years for pilgrimages to lse: One estimate places at 4 million the number of pilgrims who took authorized or unauthorized leave of their daily occupations, and converged on the shrine complex. 15 Senka himself had made the pilgrimage in the summer of 1830. Here the senryu poet turned sightseer and pilgrim acts as a private courier between Edo and Atsuta, some 230 miles distant. Among the few events we can date with certainty during the 1830s is Tanehikds move from his kumi-yashiki apartments in the vicinity of modern Ueno Station to a private home of his own, some three-quarters of a mile away, in 1835. The reasons for the move from his address of fifty-odd years are not clear, although the irritation of cramped quarters and communal existence must have been a factor. A gokan preface from the summer of 1819 begins by enumerating the disadvantages of a rustic life in the mountains, but soon turns to discussing the noisiness of "some back street rented place."16 Emulation of his artistic collaborator also may have provided an impetus: Around 1834, Kunisada had moved into his Kochor6 ''Fragrant Butterfly Mansion" in Kameido, a more capacious residence befitting his enhanced artistic stature. Tanehiko makes no secret of the move in his works. The preface to Chapter 19 of Inaka Genji (published in 1836) is totally obsessed with the event. (Here my own additions to the text are in square brackets, while parentheses denote ornamental "skew" elements in the original): When I had completed 10 pages of the manuscript for this chapter, I left for certain reasons the Shitaya district where I had lived for over fifty years (over fifty-like the number of chapters in Genjt) and established a new residence in Asakusa. A fine coincidence, you must agree, to make such a move at the very juncture Mitsuuji moves from Suma to Akashi. The distance is "only such as one might reach in crawling," and yet I am a good deal farther now from the hill of Ueno. Before my eyes is the text "the mountains of his past lay afar, in the spring mist," and I miss my old neighborhood. But here there is a sort of garret, fine for gazing at the moon. As I watched the moon on the garden pond, I reflected that this was my Ishiyama Temple. In this frame of mind, I completed the remaining 10 pages. It is a house [small enough] for a snail ("spread your horns apart, snail!"), and there is, regrettably, no storehouse (Kuramachi) in which to store the autumn harvest, but at least it is far brighter than the place I lived in for many

172

The Willow in Autumn

years. In this, at least, it conforms to the thoughts of this chapter ['~kashi'j. To the south, across the road that ends in the Racetrack, there is a bamboo grove, from the edges of which Fuji's lofty crest doth shine most white, and Mt. Afuri most green. Far to the right I see Yushima [Tenjin] Shrine; close by on the left is the pagoda of the "Nutty Yew Temple." But if I go on like this in every direction, it will sound as if I am singing the praises of the view from my own second floor. Stand next to the Kinryilji temple where [Toda] Mosui, author of Murasaki no hitomoto (Nise Murasakt), is buried, and take the road below its grove to the south; come to the intersection of three corners. This in place of an address for the home to which I moved, at the end of autumn, year of the sheep and younger brother of wood [1835].17

Leaving aside for the moment the intricate allusions of the text (though in fact this qualifies as one of the more straightforward prefaces in Inaka Genji), we find in this preface clear indications of the chronology and geography of the move. The new location is in Asakusa-a term whose meaning had expanded from the immediate vicinity of the Asakusa Kannon temple to include a large band of the low-lying riverfront area between Asakusa proper and the Kanda River. Tanehiko mentions a number of landmarks in the neighborhood. Close by, along the river, tower the imposing snow-white shogunal granaries, popularly known as Kuramachi. Farther inland and parallel to the Sumida River is the long oblong Racetrack, primarily a parade ground for equestrian exercises. The second-floor garret faces south, and affords a wide panorama of sites with genial literary associations. Far to the west, on the right, lies the Yushima Tenjin Shrine, auspicious for writers and scholars; closer, to the east, stands the Kayadera or Shokakuji, a temple containing the grave of Tanehiko's kyoka mentor, Ishikawa Masamochi. The Kinryiiji temple in its precincts held two monuments to native literary scholarship: the grave of Kada no Azumamaro {1669-1736) and, in Tanehiko's day, a stele erected by Toda Mosui {1629-1706) to the memory of his son. 18 The preface to Chapter 20, also published in 1836, concludes with an even more precise street address: "This [composed] in my new house. Go left from the 0-Umaya ferry embankment, cut across the Racetrack, and you will recognize it immediately."19 Much of the topography of the neighborhood has altered during modern reconstruction: but, to a surprising extent, the configurations 0f earlier canals and hous·

The Willow in Autumn

173

ing blocks remain unaltered in the Tokyo of today. By comparing contemporary against modern maps, we may situate Tanehikds new home close to the intersection of Kokusai-dori and Kasuga-dori (Kotobuki 1-and 3-chome, Kuramae 3- and 4-chome in Tait6 ward). More important than the physical site of the new house, though, is the symbolic position it occupied in Tanehikds mind. After decades in the kumi-yashiki, he was master of his own domain in a quiet neighborhood of temples and smaller hatamoto residences (although Bakin, in a letter of July or August 1842, describes the Asakusa location as "rented land"). 20 His pride in the house is self-evident in the prefaces already quoted, which sound like nothing so much as open invitations to his readers to pay him a social call. Soon after the move, Tanehiko dubbed the modest two-story dwelling the Ganjiro or Genjiro~ ~ (Mansion of Nise Murasaki). The epithet appears in a number of works, among them the preface to Chapter 28 of Inaka Genji (published 1838), in which he ascribes his dwelling to "the grace of Kannon's incarnations."21 In light and scholarly works alike, Tanehiko mentions the building: The prefaces to his solitary ninjobon, Enmusubi gekka no kiku (Matchmaker chrysanthemums in the moonlight; preface date 1839) and Tttkao nendaiki (Takao annals; preface date January 1842), a monograph on the celebrated dynasty of courtesans named "Takao," are both addressed "from the Ganjiro."22 The question of finances at the time of the move has exercised most biographers. A frequently repeated assertion is that the accrued manuscript fees from his most profitable works, particularly Inaka Genji, provided the capital to build or refurbish the new location; the Ganjiro, then, was a tangible monument to the success of Inaka Genji. This is not impossible, although a devil's advocate might argue that manuscript fees, even for a highly successful work like Inaka Genji, rarely exceeded 5 ryo per chapter, and 3 ryo was not an uncommon figure. It is impossible to know how much of this income was discretionary, and how much essential for everyday needs. Moreover, why would Tanehiko choose to move in the middle of a severe inflationary period, when consumer prices were 12-50 percent higher than they had been ten years earlier?23 Hayashi Yoshikazu severely doubts that revenue from legitimate works alone could underwrite such a move. The sudden apparent affiu-

f

174

Tbe Willow in Autumn

ence of Tanehiko is in fact the crux of his argument that Tanehiko, in collaboration with Kunisada, generated several lucrative pornographic works in the 1830s.24 A third possibility, which seems most reasonable, is that Tanehiko supplemented his income by additional chapters to Inaka Genji {1835, 1836, and 1839 are the years of "peak production'') on the one hand, and by small commissions for friends and admirersinscribed fans, original poems, even autographs. Of this latter, informal activity there is scanty documentation, and yet it cannot be discounted. We know, for example, that early Meiji gesaku authors of note depended on a fairly extensive system of anonymous patronage from highly placed admirers, and it is not unreasonable to suppose that Tanehiko enjoyed some similar form of covert support. 25 The earlier anecdote of the generous rural admirer, whom Tanehiko asked to provide ready forces for an emergency muster, was probably no isolated incident. On 24 September 1836, Kyokutei Bakin held a shogakai to celebrate his 70th birthday. 26 The shogakai, literally "calligraphy and painting meet," had developed into a monstrous commercial institution bearing only a nominal resemblance to the cozy gathering of connoisseurs its name implied. The organizer of a shogakai would rent a large banquet room in a restaurant, and hold a dinner for his friends, guests of honor, and the general public. In return for "congratulatory offerings" of a pecuniary nature, each participant would receive some painting or inscription extemporized by the sponsor or ancillary celebrities. Terakado Seiken's Edo hanjoki, in its enumeration of contemporary follies, provides a scathing account of the practice in its first installment, of 1832.27 Much to be pitied, Seiken remarks, are the friends or .dupes of the organizers gulled into attending the shogakai; their behavior in the banquet halls is lamentable, as they cluster around the organizer at his desk and gawk, or carry on disgracefully with the hired geisha. More pitiful are the organizers of the crass affairs, who prostitute their talents so blatantly or, worse still, arrogate. talent by holding these functions while still nonentities. Bakin himself disliked the practice. In a letter of 1818 to a literary friend in Echigo, he fumes: I am ashamed to sound so vituperative in saying so, but of late all authors or artists hold these shogakai affairs at the slightest provocation-conspiracies to

The Willow in Autumn

175

scrape up some ready cash. Few indeed are the invited guests who attend gladly; most participate, faces set in a "grin and bear it" expression (as the colloquialism has it). The perpetrators strip you of one nanryo [1/8 of a ryo]why, it is almost an elegant sort of robbery! They may be great figures, "Master This" or ''Professor That," but few fail to resort to this expedient for a livelihood. I have resolved, Sir, that I will never do such a thing.2s

Pressing financial needs, however, forced Bakin to reconsider his stance. He had decided to move from Kanda to a new house in Shinanosaka that would require much rehabilitation. More important, he was determined to assure a secure future for his grandson and scions by the (technically illegal) purchase of a samurai post on his grandchild's behalf. Despite galloping famine and rice riots in the streets, the shogakai banquet went as planned. By Bakin's account, more than 700 guests crowded into the Manpachiro restaurant in Yanagibashi (a favorite locale for these functions, according to Edo hanjoki); over 1,180 meals were served. Tanehiko figured prominently among the celebrities in attendance, as did Watanabe Kazan {1793-1842), Yashiro Hirokata {1758-1841), the Confucian scholar Tojo Kindai {1795-1878), Hiroshige and Hokusai, even Bakin's deadly enemy, Tamenaga Shunsui. 29 Two months after the frenetic conviviality of the shogakai, Tanehiko was visited by tragedy: Jinnosuke, his son and only child, died on the morning of 10:10/18 November. Contagious disease, the inevitable companion of malnutrition, had become more common in Edo since the onset of nationwide famine conditions in 1833; waves of wretched refugees from the provinces further accelerated the spread of infection. In August 1836, a virulent measles epidemic erupted in Edo. Two boys from Kyushu, either red-headed by birth or outfitted with red wigs, danced on the Ryogoku Bridge in hopes of dispelling the contagion. 30 Jinnosuke, like Bakin's only son, Sohaku, dead in 1835, may have succumbed to such a disease. On 2 November, Tanehiko had begun the composition of Chapter 22 in Inaka Genji, a chapter based on episodes from ''A.kashi" and ''Yomogyu." According to Yamaguchi Takeshi, who examined the holograph manuscripts, a tersely worded draft of Jinnosuke's death certificate appears in the manuscript itself:

176

The Willow in Autumn

Son and heir Takaya Jinnosuke Said party succumbed to illn~ss, 8 A.M., lOth day of present month Mourning confinement from the lOth until the 19th day of the lOth month, Tenpo 7 Mourning garments from the lOth day of the lOth month until the lOth day of the 11th month, Tenpo 7 I submit this to inform you of proposed mourning observances during the dates specified above. I shall submit a second report at the conclusion of the mourning period. Tenpo 7:10:10

Takaya Hikoshiro31

The document, probably tendered to his kobushin-gumi regimental supervisor, seems excessively cold and bureaucratic, although Yamaguchi assures us that on the reverse side of the page there are tear splotches where Tanehiko has written of Aoba Biwanosuke, Katsuragi's father: ''But Aoba Biwanosuke-only he has not sent a messenger to welcome me back. What could be the reason?" wondered Mitsuuji. Blinking away the tears in his eyes, Kunisuke replied, ''Biwanosuke fell ill, my lord, in the spring of this year, and passed away at the end of the 6th month. Tomorrow, I believe, is his 49th-day observance."32

A second possible tribute to Jinnosuke within the text of Inaka Genji is the frontispiece to Chapter 23 (also published 1837). Two unspecified young women loiter on a veranda, while the ghostly, unidentified figure of a young samurai with noble features observes them sadly from the left. To his side, as a caption, is the poem addressed in ''Yomogyu" by a grieving Suetsumuhana to her late father, Prince Hitachi: Naki hito wo kouru tamoto no hima naki ni aretaru noki no shizuku sae sou

To my ceaseless weeping for one who is no more the dripping from ruined eaves adds its voice. 33

Neither the poem nor the illustration is entirely suited to the ensuing chapter, and it is likely that this is more a literary memorial than a part of the text proper. Tanehiko's physical appearance in maturity or his demeanor engages none of the biographers. In early youth, contemporaries saw in him the

The Willow in Autumn

177

very image of Bando Mitsugoro III/Shuka-a vivid description for theatergoers of the 1810s and 1820s, but hardly satisfactory for moderns. The playful practice of depicting the author or using his features in illustrations to his works may offer some clues. On the last page of Soga mukashi kyogen (Soga kabuki play of yore; 1817), Kunisada shows the mature author poring over an illustrated text at his desk. At his feet, two overfed cats gambol, while, in a "dream cloud" above, the spirit of Chikamatsu hovers to provide inspiration. In Yonde Miyagi-no Shinobu mukashi (Upon reading, the longed-for past of Miyagi moor; 1837), Mukai Nobuo finds nigao likenesses of Tanehiko, his wife Masako, the deceased Jinnosuke, as well as Kunisada, but does not explain the rationale for the attribution. 34 Only one intentional portrait of Tanehiko exists. The several variants, paintings and woodcuts, all clearly derive from an original prototype whose origins, however, are obscure. The best of these, and possibly the "parent" illustration, is preserved in a manuscript copy of Gesakusha ko hoi, by Kimura Mokur6. 35 It depicts Tanehiko in a seated position. In his right hand is a kiseru pipe; his left hand reaches into a tobacco pouch. The sitter's expression is pensive and refined, the complexion pallid. Despite the masculine coiffure, immaculately dressed, the thin eyebrows and tiny features give an almost feminine allure to the portrait. A courtly overgarment, tied at the shoulders, covers four layers of garments beneath it. Mizutani Yumihiko, more nearly a contemporary, declares the portrait that of a man about 50. The wrinkles between the small eyes suggest to him a quick temper, but the overall impression is of a gentle disposition, "poor in authority, lacking in solemnity."36 This much is known of Tanehiko's life; all further biographical information concerns his death. Before discussing the circumstances of his end, however, we must consider the political and social circumstances of the 1830s and 1840s, which bear heavily in the matter. 37 After more than three decades of relative prosperity, the 1830s were a time of increasing urgency and alarm throughout Japan. External no less than internal crises underlined the inefficient, ossified operation of the national economy and administrative structure. The putative heads of state, the shoguns, demonstrated an almost total lack of initiative in responding to national difficulties, and relegated power now to one,

178

Tbe Willow in Autumn

now to another faction among the roju senior councilors. The attempts of one such councilor to stem the tide of disasters from 1841 to 1843, grandiosely labeled the "Tenp6 Reform'' after the year-period during which its programs took shape, had little real efficacy in curing the fundamental cancers in the national polity. The shortsighted and short-term policies had severe implications for the arts and letters in Edo, however, and occasioned many victims-among them, directly or indirectly, Tanehiko. Famine was the dominant factor in the internal crisis. Poor harvests throughout the country in the summer of 1833 initiated a four-year period of starvation and extreme inflation unparalleled since the Tenmei Famine of 1782-1787. The immediate sufferers were in the provinces, but soon urban centers felt the panic: By 1837, the price of staple commodities was 170 percent higher than in 1832, while rice prices in the same interval more than doubled. 38 A ring of grim encampments around the periphery of Edo harbored refugees from all provinces, whose sole hope of subsistence was a shrinking dole. Even as Bakin planned his shogakai banquet in 1836, at least 1,000 "hungry ghosts" huddled every morning before the offices of the city magistrates in hopes of aid. Death became a commonplace. A physician to the shogun recalls in his memoirs that, on one day in 1837, in a single quadrant of Edo, there were over 30 corpses discovered unburied on the streets. 39 An odd footnote to these scenes of surpassing horror is that, even at the height of the famine, in 1836-1837, costly new chapters of Bakin's Hakkenden sold well, and the kabuki theaters were packed to capacity. 40 Rioting and unrest were inevitable results of the famine. Theft and uchikowashi (smashings) of wealthy homes and granaries proliferated in urban and rural areas. A major riot in the province of Kai in 1836 involved tens of thousands of participants whose massed forces, by one account, formed a continuous line over 20 miles long. The disturbance was suppressed only with great difficulty. In Edo, irregularities and profiteering by authorities in charge of the dole aggravated malcontent. Because of the local relief efforts, rioting was limited in Edo itself, although the anarchy of the city-wide rice riots in 1787 cannot have been far from memory. 41 A near-normal harvest in 1837 alleviated much of the suffering. It was not until 1839, however, that retail rice prices subsided to their 1832 level.

The Willow in Autumn

179

External pressure, too, cast a baleful shadow over the decade. U nauthorized foreign vessels from Russia, Great Britain, and the United States repeatedly intruded into Japanese waters, even landed on Japanese soil from the 1790s onward, in complete contravention of the natio~al policy of seclusion. The outbreak of Opium War hostilities on the continent in autumn 1839 further exacerbated Japanese distrust of foreign intentions, xenophobia, and isolationism. Intellectual response to the crisis was not wanting, but was little heeded. Watanabe Kazan, perhaps one of the most gifted and genial figures of his day, advocated a more liberal use of men of talent in government, regardless of social condition; stronger national defenses; and a more pragmatic attitude towa.rd the West to replace the unconstructive, unreasoning hysteria of his day. He and several of his disciples fell victims to that hysteria in a suppression of their teachings in 1839. When faced with an accusation on obviously contrived charges, Kazan committed suicide in early 1842. Oshio Heihachiro (1793-1837), the son of a yoriki (police subaltern) in Osaka, translated the tenets of an intense personal philosophical credo into action, and led the citizens of Osaka in rebellion against corrupt local officials and venal merchants who allegedly wrung profits from the famine. The quixotic uprising, on 25 March 1837, was foredoomed. Where Oshio had expected indignant masses rallying spontaneously in support of his righteous initiative, only about 300 citizens, few of whom had any idea what was transpiring, acted in concert with his band of disciples. By comparison with the major famine uprisings in Kai or Mikawa provinces, the Oshio uprising is numerically insignificant; its emotional impact, however, was much greater. Edo could not dismiss a movement led by one of its own officials as a simple riot instigated by bad elements. Revolts claiming inspi111tion from Oshids inflammatory gekibun (emergency declaration) arose throughout the country. In Edo, handbills signed only "an Osaka ronin" echoed the phrasing of the gekibun in calling for "brave souls" to commit the entire city to flames and purge its corruption. 42 Serene in the eye of the storms were the shogun and his entourage. Ienari (1773-1841), 11th Tokugawa shogun, occupied the position far longer than any other member of his dynasty. Following his accession

180

Tbe Willow in Autumn

in 1787, he had maintained a conscientious interest in the administration of national affairs. After the turn of the century, however, he became increasingly distant from the concerns of state, and proportionately more devoted to the voluptuous pleasures and intrigues of castle life. The profligacy of Ienari assumes almost mythic proportions in many accounts; the anecdotes are quoted with relish by moralist historians eager to bolster a viewpoint of "dynastic decline." Some sources attribute 40 or 50 concubines to him; the actual figure is probably closer to 20. Beginning at age 17, he fathered at least 53 live children (although fewer than half of those survived measles and smallpox to reach age 15). The castle required over 1,300 pounds of refined sugar each day, writes one chronicler, to supply the shogunal brood with confectionery. The rice consumed in the shogun's private apartments, a good 350 bushels a day, allegedly was scrutinized grain by grain for quality. 43 During the 1820s and 1830s, the true focus of administrative authority was Mizuno Tadaakira (1762-1834), supreme among the roju senior councilors from his appointment in 1818 until his death. The Tadaakira regime, little hampered by scruples, retraced the paths of venality blazed more heroically by Tanuma Okitsugu (1719-1788) fifty years before. At the height of the Tenpo Famine, in May 1837, Ienari retired from his office as shogun, perhaps as an act of expiation; his second son, Ieyoshi (1793-1853), succeeded him in October. Ienari continued to dominate his son's decisions from retirement, however, until death overtook him in 1841. Mizuno Tadakuni (1794-1851; no immediate relation to Mizuno Tadaakira) rose to prominence during the 1830s. After an eventful early life during which he was now daimyo, now civic magistrate, now castle superintendent in Osaka, the prime mover of the Tenpo Reform achieved a central post on the council of roju in 1834, soon after Tadaakira's death. His initiatives were countermanded by the favorites of Ienari, however, and it was not until the aged shogun's demise that Tadakuni wielded power without obstruction. Tadakuni's Tenpo Reform of 1841-1843, the last of the three major reactionary movements of the Edo period, was the least comprehensive, and arguably the least successful of the three. Unlike Yoshimune (1684-1751; r. 1716-1745) and Matsudaira Sadanobu (1758-1829), the

The Willow in Autumn

181

architects of the two earlier reforms, Mizuno Tadakuni was neither a charismatic figure nor heir to an imposing lineage. Even his fellow roju councilors opposed many of his policies. It is perhaps unfair to judge Tadakuni on the basis of works halted before full fruition. Even in the short run, however, it was clear that few if any of his administrative policies achieved their desired effect, and that the social and artistic legislation he inspired ultima~ely harmed more citizens than it elevated to virtue. Tadakuni had proposed a few reform measures after Ieyoshi's accession in 1837. It was not until Ienari's death in March 1841, however, that his plans could proceed unimpeded. Like Sadanobu, his confessed model, Tadakuni began by dismissing the late shogun's right-hand men, and instituted drastic reductions in the personnel of the shogun's inner apartments. Before a special convocation in Edo Castle on 3 July 1841, Tadakuni announced the essentials of his reform; by late summer, dozens of edicts and proclamations embodying the new policies streamed from Edo Castle and the Edo magistracies. S~mptuary measures against extravagance and ostentation condemned fancy cooking and confectionery, collections of iris roots, overdecorated swords, battledores encrusted with precious metals. No conceivable indulgence was neglected: Edicts regulated pipes and tobacco pouches, the height of dolls, the opulence of dollhouse furniture. Western lettering was prohibited on shop signs and advertisements. Extravagant entertainments were curtailed or forbidden. Female gidayu chanters were subject to arrest; all but 15 of the more than 200 yose vaudeville houses that had sprung up throughout Edo were forced to close their doors. 44 In November 1841, two of the three premier kabuki playhouses burned (like conflagrations of the Yoshiwara, a regular occurrence). Instead of allowing the theaters to rebuild, however, the magistracy insisted that all three licensed theaters move entirely from their traditional central locations in Nihonbashi to a special enclave created northeast of the Asakusa Kannon Temple compound. There, on an analogy with the nearby Yoshiwara quarter, all theatrical activities and actors were to be hermetically contained. The economic measures of the Tenp5 Reform attempted to bolster the economy of metropolitan Edo and gave little attention to nation-

182

Tbe Willow in Autumn

wide consequences. By law, prices of common commodities and services were fixed. Two successive moves in January and April1842 diminished and finally dissolved the power of ton'ya wholesaler cartels and kabu-nakama chartered guilds, whose limited autonomy the bakufu had tolerated, ironically, as a means toward greater regulatory power. A forced repatriation of migrants, from Edo to the countryside, had some success in the spring of 1843; an ambitious swamp drainage project near Edo, though, had to be abandoned. Tadakuni's initiative in October 1843 to expand the urban boundaries of Edo and Osaka, and thus enhance bakufu revenue at the expense of neighboring fiefs, enjoyed even less success. Even tozama (outsider) daimyo had acquiesced meekly to escheating and relocation on a grand scale in the seventeenth century; now, two hundred years later, even fudai (house) daimyo waxed indignant at the prospect of impingement on their domains. Mizuno Tadakuni was dismissed on 4 November 1843; his residence was confiscated. Thousands of townspeople massed outside the manor that evening, and suppressed hatred for Tadakuni erupted into an all-night riot. Like Yoshimune's Kyoho and Sadanobu's Kansei Reforms before it, the Tenpo Reform promulgated new edicts on publishing as one pillar in its comprehensive program. The principal edicts were two in number, on Tenpo 13:6:3/10 July 1842 and 6:4/11 July. 45 The first of these adopted much of its tenor and phrasing directly from the earlier major edicts: All publications, regardless of content, must avoid incorporating "heterodox teachings and delusive theories"; there must be no equivocal discussion of "lineages and ancestors"; books must bear the author's and publisher's true names in a colophon. To the existing interdiction on koshokubon (amatory books) the bakufu added a prohibition of works containing "the manners of the day or criticism of individuals, and so forth." The prohibition on any mention of Ieyasu or members of the shogunal dynasty was relaxed: Limited mention in strictly historical writihg was permissible, but the old rules were to remain in effect for frivolous works in kana script. Finally, the 10 July edict substituted an external, official process of censorship for the hitherto primarily internal, autonomous censorship of the publishers' guilds-the latter system inoperable since the disbanding of the guilds in April. All works were to pass the office of the machi-doshiyori (ward officer) and magistrate for

The Willow in Autumn

183

review; the magistrate and Shoheizaka Academy must receive a definitive presentation copy of all works published. If a work was published secretly or irregularly, the printing blocks were to be seized and burned, and the perpetrators subjected after due investigation to severe penalty. The rules applied retroactively as well, to works "stored" on blocks in publishers' warehouses. The edict of 11 July addressed itself to prints and e-zoshi picture books, whose lavishness challenged the puritanical ideals of the Reform. Prints were not to depict geisha or actors; gokan must not contain nigao caricatures of actors, nor display excessive color on covers or "wrappers." Further edicts in 1842 prohibited the selling or lending of ninjobon; the manufacture of connected prints larger than triptychs; the depiction of adult or adolescent females. Legislation fixed the number of colors permissible in a print (8) and, more significantly, limited the maximum price of a print (16 mon). All gokan were subject to review during the manuscript stages as well as during publication. The only forms of publication to benefit from positive legislation were official editions of Chinese classics produced under the aegis of the Shoheizaka Academy and the official feudatory colleges. Reaction to the multiple edicts was confused and panicky. On the morning of 6:10/17 July, Bakin's associate Seiemon read the blind author a transcript of the recent decrees. The legislation against serial works and "elaborate yomihon" was particularly worrisome to Bakin, who had just published the final installments of Hakkenden, but whose Kinse-setsu bishonen roku (Chronicle of comely youths, explained for moderns; 1830-1834) and Shinpen Kinpeibai (Chin P'ing Mei, in new edition; 1831-1847) remained unfinished. ''In consideration of the above," Bakin records with formal detachment, "we must give careful thought to the abandonment of gesaku writing forthwith." 46 In the spring of 1842, before the promulgation of the fateful edicts, 37 new gokan had appeared on the market; the following year, a mere 3 braved the withering new climate, and quantities did not recover to 1842levels until1848. Conversely, yomihon, stalwart and sententious, increased from 1 in 1842 to 5 titles in 1843, although the covers featured indigo as their only color. Ninjobon (dated ones, at least) disappeared entirely until1846Y Legislation against publishing proceeded vigorously during the sum-

184

The Willow in Autumn

mer of 1842, but the persecution of individual authors had begun months earlier. Among the first victims was Echizen'ya Chojiro, alias Tamenaga Shunsui (1790-1844). 48 The foremost author of ninjobon and a sponsor of numerous disciples, Shunsui was an obvious target for harassment; Suwa Haruo even suggests that the action against Shunsui was a test case during which the bakufu explored the viability and methods of literary prosecution. 49 Shunsui in fact was the object of two separate prosecutions, one before and another after the edicts of July 1842. Without forewarning, the northern city magistrate Toyama Kagemoto (?-1855) summoned Shunsui and 7 or 8 ninjobon publishers into his office for interrogation during the last month of Tenpo 12/JanuaryFebruary 1842. On Tenpo 12:12:29/9 February 1842, the day after Torii Yozos (1815-1874) installation in the southern magistracy, Toyama issued orders to confiscate for judicial scrutiny "five cartloads" (the figure is probably rhetorical) of printing blocks for chuhon (that is, ninjobon) and koshoku e-hon (amatory picture books). A confidential report by a marketplace superintendent to the Edo magistracy demonstrates that the repression of late Tenpo 12 was not conducted on the spur of the moment, but was the culmination of careful weeks of planning. 5° The report, tendered between 12:11/22 January and 12:29/9 February, enumerates 91 objectionable works for suppression, primarily ninjobon and pornographic shunga albums, but including Inaka Genji; 7 publishers' names appear on the disreputable roster. Blacklist in hand, the magistrate's agents moved swiftly to execute their mission. The raid occurred, probably by design, immediately before New Year's, the busiest season for publishers. Chojiya Heibei/Bunkeido, Bakin records in a letter, had many ninjobon blocks ready to print in his shop, and large printed stocks for sale or distribution; the confiscation of blocks was a ruinous blow. 51 Uncertain of the government's next move, Chojiya Heibei withdrew the terminal installment of Ba,kin's Hakkenden from the market. It, as well as many other yomihon and gokan, lingered in limbo. On 2:5/16 March, the magistrate reached his verdict: Shunsui was condemned to wear manacles, and the publishers were sentenced to yanushi-azuke, remanding into the custody of their landlords. For the publishing industry, it was a welcome relief: The magistrate, it appeared,

1be Willow in Autumn

185

intended punitive action only against ninjobon and their publishers. The final chapters of Hakkenden went on sale 2:9/20 March. The 7 ninjobon publishers cited earlier were released on their own recognizance in late April, while Shunsui alone remained in shackles. These incidents, however unpleasant, were a mild foretaste of the repression to come. Mere days after the promulgation of the major publishing edicts, on 6:9/16 July, Shunsui and his publishers answered a second indictment. After two days of examination, a new sentence emerged. The 7 publishers, the artist Kuniyoshi, even the 3 block engravers would each pay a fine of 5 kanmon (4,800-5,000 mon), and 7 gold ryo in restitution of estimated profits; Shunsui would wear manacles 50 days; the offending printing blocks would be splintered or broken, and the works printed from them shredded and incinerated. Bakin lingers over a gloomy picture of Shunsui in his last years, heartbroken and bedridden, bereft of all companionship or will to live. 52 In fact, however, Shunsui lived nearly two years after his sentence, and continued his literary career (or at least his livelihood) by a number of circumspect kyokun-ehon, "educational illustrated books."53 As a chonin, Shunsui was entirely subject to the whimsical adjudication of the Edo magistrates. His treatment, even by the standards of Tokugawa justice, seems cruel and capricious. Inequity in prosecuting the other defendants, too, struck observers. In a letter of July-August 1842, Bakin remarks with some resentment that Kunisada and Shigenobu are both just as culpable as Kuniyoshi of illustrating ninjobon, but, since Shigenobu is a gokenin direct vassal and Kunisada lives "in a remote area'' (in Honjo ), only Kuniyoshi has suffered the brunt of the fines of 18 July.54 The prosecution of Terakado Seiken (1796-1868), a samurai (from a family of auditors for the accounts of Mito domain in Edo), was far more difficult than that of Shunsui, even though his transgressions were more blatant. 55 After a frustrating early career of sporadic teaching and unsuccessful attempts to penetrate the Mito bureaucracy, Seiken turned to writing. The first chapter of his satirical panorama of Edo, Edo hanjoki, pleased a cynical readership in 1832. The popularity of this and subsequent installments met with official disapproval: After soliciting the opinion of no lesser an authority than the dean of the Shoheizaka

186

The Willow in Autumn

Academy, the magistracy banned sale of the work in 1835. Seiken, under the suasion of his rapacious publisher, Chojiya Heibei, generated further clandestine chapters. In July 1842, however, Seiken received a summons from Magistrate Torii Yoz6. The publisher's weak defense, that he had lent the printing blocks as collateral to a certain provincial ft:iend whose whereabouts he did not know, made little impression on the formidable Torii: The fact remained that Chojiya had published in knowing violation of an explicit ban. Edo hanjoki, composed in a fantastic hothouse strain of literary Chinese, was hardly likely to corrupt the public at large; even a well-educated reader might struggle with it. This baroque mix of tag lines from the classics and Sinified street jargon only offended the dean of the Academy further, however, when Torii requested a second expert opinion. The verdict came down on 8:23/27 September: All printed copies and printing blocks in the Chojiya were confiscated; Chojiya Heibei himself, already in bad odor after the Shunsui affair, was banished from his home (and subsequently moved to another neighborhood in Edo); the distributor forfeited all revenue from sales, and paid a fine of 10 kanmon (9,600-10,000 mon); the block carver, similarly, forfeited payments on the job and suffered 3 kanmon in fines. Seiken himself was sentenced to hoko-kamai, discharge from his current place of service and ostracism from any other. The punishment, in effect a demotion to ronin status, was indeed severe, though not fatal: Ever resilient, Seiken embarked on a peripatetic life for over twenty more years, and composed even more caustic sequels to his Edo hanjoki. We may note other, lesser victims of the persecution. Ichikawa Danjuro VII/Ebizo (1791-1859), a patriarch of the kabuki world, is a case in point. In Bakin's account, Ebizo appeared before Magistrate Toyama in April-May 1842 and suffered the humiliation of manacles during interrogation. Bakin notes the charge as "unbecoming extravagance," and mentions rumors of three mistresses and costly antiques, including two suits of armor. 56 Another account imputes the indictment to Ebizos failure to don on one occasion the special distinctive hat newly prescribed for all actors. The sentence, on 6:22/29 July, was harsh: The performer was forbidden to live within a 25-mile radius of Edo. (Amnesty for Ebizo came only in 1850, after several years of touring the

1be Willow in Autumn

187

provinces and Osaka. In 1845, however, possibly as a covert indemnity, the magistrate awarded his son Ichikawa Danjilr6 VIII/Sansho [18231854] 10 kanmon "for filial piety.") 57 One may also recall here the forced resignation ofHitomi Shusuke {1781-1844), alias Senryil rv, from the editorial direction of Yanagidaru in 1837 -an event earlier than the Reform proper, but consonant with its methods and philosophy. 58 These prosecutions, though varied in direction and intensity, have certain common features. First, they were directed primarily against individual creative artists, not entire schools or disciples. The individuals prosecuted were all well into middle age (Seiken 47 in 1842, Shunsui and Ebizo in their fifties), and of modest backgrounds (middle- to upperclass chonin, lower samurai). Most significantly, however, these victims had each of them acquired a visible, almost symbolic preeminence in an artistic field of endeavor, be it ninjobon or senryu, theater or Chinese gesaku. There is no way to divine the true motives for the Tenp6 literary purges; perhaps the effort is futile. In my opinion, though, the magistracy chose to prosecute, in an arbitrary manner, not so much individuals as figurehead scapegoats for each undesirable type of literature. An outright universal ban on ninjobon would only encourage an underground press, enhance devoted readers' demand, or even attract new readers among those previously indifferent. A protracted, obscure, and ignominious treatment of Shunsui, however, would terrify publishers and those who regarded themselves as Shunsui's disciples. History, as we have seen, testifies to the soundness of the concept. In support of this contention, we may also remark that there is no mention of specifically offensive works in the records and rumors of these prosecutions. In the action against Kyoden in 1791, the official citation of offenses, as we have it, explicitly designates the three offending sharebon by title. 5 9 In Bakin's account of the action against Shunsui, by contrast, there is no mention of any specific title; blocks and books are burned indiscriminately. Nor does the text of the sentence against Shunsui allude to any single work. Edo hanjoki, it is true, is the grounds for punishment against Seiken; after Seiken's punishment, however, another publisher printed a pirate version of Edo hanjoki, and apparently encountered no objection from the magistracy. 60 Moreover, the magistracy made no attempt to recall and destroy circulating copies of

188

The Willow in Autumn

works by the authors on its Index. Impracticable as such a measure may sound, there were precedents. The persecution was primarily of symbolic personalities, not of works or individual misdeeds. Tanehiko was the third major victim of the Tenpo literary purge. There are no eyewitness accounts of his death, but several sources command a high degree of credibility. These accounts, moreover, do not vary much in major points from one another and disagree primarily on details. In discussing Tanehikds death, I have chosen to consider first sources prior to the Meiji period, where direct personal knowledge is likely to figure at some point in the transmission; second, sources later than 1868, where rumor and reconstruction are common. The preMeiji sources appear in a rough decreasing order of the authors' familiarity with the Takaya family, that is, the most intimate first, least familiar last. RyUtei Senka was 39 at the time. Since 1837, he had been independent of Tanehiko and submitted manuscripts for consideration and publication directly from Nagoya. For sentimental or economic reasons, however, he continued to describe himself as "a disciple of Master RyUtei" in his productions. On 18 April 1842, Senka embarked on his third journey to Edo. A detailed travel journal enables us to follow his progress. 61 After his arrival in Edo on 26 April, Senka enjoyed Tanehikds hospitality for luncheon on 30 April. If there had been a quarrel or estrangement, there had also been some reconciliation by 1842. This is the last indisputable date in Tanehikds life. The following day, Senka met Tanehikds disciple Ryu.katei Tanekazu (1807-1858) and "Shunba'' -probably Santei Shunba (? -1852), a minor disciple of Shikitei Sanba and Jippensha Ikku. 62 The trial and punishment of Shunsui, the arrest of Ebizo, and the general disarray of the publishing world after the abolition of the guilds no doubt dominated discussions. On 2 May, Senka writes of another social encounter in Edo: Shun'o is an adopted son of KatO Josen (lives in Ichigaya). He told me that Ryutei had been condemned without warning to perpetual house confinement on charges of authoring Gekka no kiku, and this to cover the fact of Shunsui's troubles with authorities. But it was all a foul lie. This is not the first instance of his vileness. 63

The Willow in Autumn

189

Senka's informant is Tamenaga Shun'o, a countryman from Nagoya, who had moved to Edo and entered Shunsui's ninjobon "factory."64 The ambiguous wording leaves us in doubt whether Shunsui ga o-togame ni aishi wo owan tame ni (to cover the fact that Shunsui met with official censure) applies to the motives behind Shunran's gossip or to the actions of the authorities in sentencing Tanehiko. Shunran's story is of definite value as an indication of the rumors current in Edo that uneasy spring: Tanehiko, who had only the one ninjobon to his name (and not a very successful one at that), nonetheless was deemed likely to suffer censure in the general repression of the genre. Senka left Edo two weeks later, and arrived home 26 May with a full complement of souvenirs, among them packets of Sanba-brand tooth- and face powder. Oddly, Senka's personal journal Yoshinashigoto contains no entry about the death of Tanehiko, either in the portions devoted to 1842 or subsequent chapters. Mori Senzo suggests that the failure to include even a short eulogy or poem on so crucial an event may indicate a purposeful silence on a sensitive or traumatic topic. 65 For those seeking to prove an unnatural death for Tanehiko, Yoshinashigoto offers an argumentum ex silentio. In August 1834, Senka had compiled a poetic catalog of all Ryfitei works to date. 66 In the margin to this manuscript, however, we find a peculiar laconic inscription. Senka records Tanehiko's posthumous name and inscribes his two death poems under the date Tenpo 13:7:19/24 August 1842. His personal comment consists of four Chinese characters only: ~~ 4 ~ A, kanashiki kana (Alas, how sad!). The terseness and distance of this notation, again, suggest that Senka is concealing much. If Tanehiko did die on 7:19/24 August, it is unlikely that the news would have reached Senka in Nagoya before the last days of the 7th month. On 7:28/2 September, Senka completed a copy of Enomoto Kikaku's (1661-1707) guide to Yoshiwara courtesans, Yoshiwara Genji gojushi-kun (54 courtesans of a Yoshiwara Genji, 1687).67 His base manuscript, according to the subscription, was one Tanehiko had made in 1839, and had emended against a fortuitously discovered original edition in 1840. There is no mention of Tanehiko's death in the dry textual discussion Senka appends. Could this very recopying, however, be a memorial effort, undertaken after hearing the sad report?

!

190

The Willow in Autumn

Where Senka is reticent, Ogino Baiu is verbose. His Ryutei sensei den of 1843 contains the most detailed (though not necessarily the most accurate) account we have of the author's last days: From the beginning of 1842, Tanehiko felt that he would return to the mount of the immortals that very year, and was in every way apprehensive, yet his spirit remained robust until the middle of the 6th month. He sensed that the following month would be the conclusion to his earthly term and so, while still he had the strength to use a brush, he asked his wife for a poem-slip, and wrote on it in his own hand: Chiru mono to sadamaru aki no yanagi kana

Its leaves fated to scatterthe willow in autumn.

Most of the characters in Genji die in the autumn. and then: Ware mo aki rokujitcho no nagori kana

I, too, in autumnmy sixty chapters for keepsake, for regrets.

This he wrote joyfully-indeed I doubt you would find similar [composure] among learned and reverent monks. He met his end tranquilly on the 19th day of the 7th month. He had achieved the age of 60 years. The Master was born the 12th day of the 5th month in the 3rd year of enmei, but this year, before the calendrical cycle had come full circle, he became mortal clay. Too early have Mokubo's leaves scattered! They laid him to rest in the Jodoji Temple of Hitotsugi-cho, Akasaka, beside the tombs of his ancestors. His posthumous name is Hokan'inden Yuyoshin Zenkoji. This by his friend, Ogino Socho [Baiu]. 68

Baui's entire sketch has a decided apologetic bias, and this passage is no exception. The biographer is at pains to stress the lucidity of his subject, the peaceful resignation of his slow capitulation to the inevitableall of which leads one to wonder if the reality was not quite so graceful. Alternatively, Baiu here may be exorcising the rumors of an unnatural end by a somewhat embroidered version of Tanehikds terminal illness. The two deathbed verses-quoted with minor variations in virtually all obituary accounts-remain among the most affecting legacies of the author. 69 The inevitable decline of the willow in autumn was a natural

The Willow in Autumn

191

metaphor for the master of the ''Willow Pavilion'' as he succumbed to mortality. Autumn- by a play on words the time of "satiation'' or of "weariness" -was an appropriate season for the conclusion of efforts, or for wistful reflection on the limits time imposes on man's delights and enterprises. Many of the most moving deathbed scenes of Genji-of Kiritsubo, Yfigao, Aoi, the Rokujolady, Murasaki-occur in that melancholy season. Behind him, Tanehiko leaves his own "60 chapters," his own Genji, at once a monument to his existence and, in its incomplete form, a source of lasting regrets. Bakin, though far from fond of Tanehiko, followed the reports of his troubles with a personal interest: H Tanehiko, a serious and cautious writer, could suffer harassment, then Bakin's own position was far from invulnerable. We find mention of Tanehikds demise in Bakin's diary, letters, and personal notebooks. Partially blind since 1834, Bakin had lost all sight in his good left eye by 1840. All subsequent writings Bakin dictated to his devoted daughter-in-law, 0-Michi {1805-1858). The awkwardness of the procedure meant that only events and sentiments of the first magnitude could be recorded. Limited in quantity, Bakin's comments are nonetheless of paramount importance as the observations of a man with close connections to the highest echelons of the publishing world. Moreover, despite his personal animosity, Bakin displays an objectivity and discrimination in his reports that have no parallel. Bakin began his diary-actually more of a household chronicle than a personal journal-in 1826. The extraordinary detail of the diary in early years is in sharp contrast to the skeletal entries of later years: The whole of 1842, a case in point, merits only 10 entries. Bakin comments on Kazan's suicide, the Shunsui and Seiken affairs, the July publishing edicts, his own publications. Two entries mention Tanehiko: Concerning Tanehiko: a kojunin, a kobushin regiment member, Mr. Takaya Hikoshiro. Was told he has a criminal as a lodger in his home. Consequently, he has been sent to the Detention Hall, and guards have been posted at his home. Heard this from Seki Tetsuzo yesterday in the course of conversation. Details not yet clear.... (Tenpo 13:6:26/2 August 1842)7°

To harbor -qndesirables was strictly forbidden by the codes governing samurai conduct. The "Detention Hall" or Agariya was a special sector

192

The Willow in Autumn

of the Kodenma-cho holding prison, reserved for gokenin, hatamoto retainers, priests, and other categories of privileged prisoners. Tanehiko was in custody, rumor had it, and the rest of his household were under house arrest. The previous day, Bakin had heard the unhappy verdict in the Shunsui affair, and had sent a letter of sympathy to his publisher, Chojiya Heibei. The Seki Tetsuzo mentioned here may be the bearer of those bad tidings. The 6:26 entry concludes with a mention of Ebizos condemnation and banishment four days earlier. There are no entries for the 7th month. The next diary entry refers exclusively to Tanehiko: Heard today that Tanehiko died of illness in the last decan of the 7th month, on the 27th or 28th. This rumor heard today, at Izumi-Ichi's. Taro heard it and told me. They said it happened on the same day the magistracy impounded the printing blocks of Inaka Genji. Tanehiko must have been about 60 at his death. (Tenpo 13:8:7/11 September 1842)71

By this account, Tanehiko died of natural causes on 7:27/1 September or 7:28/2 September, the same day authorities confiscated the blocks of Inaka Genji-presumably, the first step in a literary prosecution. "Taro' is Bakin's 15-year-old grandson, 0-Michi's child, who heard the report from the publisher Izumiya Ichibei/Kansendo. The report is hearsay, but not from an unreliable source. Bakin's letters from the period constitute another invaluable contemporaneous account. A few lines in a letter to Tonomura Josai, the correspondent who had urged his reading of Inaka Genji ten years earlier, intimate the clouds of rumor gathering about Tanehiko in the spring of 1842. The letter is dated Tenp6 13:4:1/10 May 1842: Perhaps the rumors that Tanehiko has been forbidden to write gesaku are, in fact, only idle fabrications. According to Cho-Hei's [Chojiya Heibei's] conversation the other day, blocks for the 13th-or was it the 40th?-chapter ~f Inaka Genji have been cut at Tsuruya, the publisher's. I have ordered them for you, to set your mind at ease. 72

A long letter dictated no earlier than 6:16/23 July and no later than 6:29/5 August, addressed jointly to both Matsusaka correspondents, Tonomura Josai and Ozu Keiso, mentions various rumors concerning

The Willow in Autumn

193

Tanehiko midway through a lengthy description of the literary edicts and purges: Someone announced to me as a certainty that Tanehiko (a kojunin, in the kobushin regiments, Mr. Takaya Hikoshiro) had been transferred to duty in the Kofu garrison in the middle of the 5th month, and that his entire family had moved to Kofu. The assertion, however, was intermingled with obvious fabrications. To ascertain the truth, I despatched Seiemon to the Tsuruya as well as to the other book dealers in the Asakusa area with whom Tanehiko maintained close relations. Despite his inquiries, the details of the matter remain unclear. Tanehikds family estates are in the Komatsugawa area of Honjo, some 5 miles from the Ryogoku Bridge. For this reason, he lives on rented land in Samisen-bori. Seiemon told me that he was ordered this spring to return to his original mansion, since this [new residence] was in violation of the law. In the first five months of this year, more than 30 lesser hatamoto have been sent down to Kofu. Is Tanehiko one of them or is he not? I have yet to learn the true facts of the matter, but, in light of the recent prohibition on serial gokan, it seems doubtful that the Tsuruya will be able to print chapters 39 and 40 of Inaka Genji, even though the blocks have been prepared. Seiemon told me that all publishers of prints, to say nothing of Tsuruya himself, are white with terror.73

The reasons behind Tanehikds punishment, indeed the punishment itself, are subjects for open speculation. Bakin records a number of rumors his agent Seiemon had collected during a tour of Asakusa. The "Kofu garrison" (Kofu kinban) was a supplementary garrison of direct retainers to the bakufu, stationed in Kofu Castle instead of Edo. Established in 1724, the Kofu regiments were in fact punitive posts for unruly or troublesome gokenin and hatamoto, the polite equivalent of banishment from Edo. Another lengthy letter to Matsusaka, this one dated Tenpo 13:9: 23/26 October 1842, contains a briefer reference to the Tanehiko affair: On the 15th day of the 9th month [18 October], I received the customary gift of sweet wine from Izumi-Ichi, resident of Shinmei-mae in Shiba. In his letter, [he mentioned that] publication of Inaka Genji has been banned, that the publisher Tsuruya has been summoned repeatedly by the authorities, and that the investigation has not yet reached a conclusion.

194

The Willow in Autumn

Here follows an interpolation, pasted into the body of the letter: I have heard that Tanehiko wasted no time in appointing an adoptive heir. Immediately after the approval of [his survivors'] petition to request validation of the adoption, [his family] submitted the death certificate. They conducted the obsequies for him the other day at his family temple in Azabu. [Kimura] Mokuro of late had become a close friend of Tanehiko, had even visited him two or three times and sent him occasional gifts/4

After a wistful lament for the gokan works stillborn in 1842, Bakin concludes his paragraph: "Be that as it may, anyone who composes gesaku in this day and age must be an idiot, ignorant of the trends of the moment. I laugh at such fools." At the annual Iikura Shinmeigu or Shiba Shinmei Shrine festival, conducted from the 16th day of the 9th month, it was customary for parishioners to manufacture sweet mulled sake in their own homes, and offer it as a gift to friends and passers-by; one of Bakin's publishers so favors him.7 5 We learn from this letter that the investigation of Tsuruya Kiemon still had not reached any conclusive resolution two months after Tanehiko's death. After Jinnosuke's death in 1836, Tanehiko had adopted an heir, Yajuro. Bakin has heard, though, that there were irregularities in formalizing the adoption: Tanehiko's family delayed reporting the author's death until the adoption and family succession were secure, and there could be no challenge to the continuity of title and property. It is curious that Tanehiko, usually so punctilious, would be so casual about his family interests. Perhaps his widow discovered a moot point in the papers already submitted, and had the documents corrected after his demise. Contemporary bureaucratic custom, in fact, allowed a degree of official tolerance for misrepresentations of dates and ages, in order to expedite paperwork and transactions for all involved. 76 In the current era of instantaneous news and communication, it is difficult to conceive how an event like Tanehiko's death could have been concealed. In Edo, however, reports of death were casual and often delayed. An extreme case was Ota Nanpo, whose demise in May 1823 was made public only in June 1825.77 Bakin's Chosakudo zakki (Notes from the Chosakudo Studio) miscel-

The Willow in Autumn

195

lany, finally, is his third important contribution to our documentation. One entry, undated, differs minimally in its information from the diary entry for Tenpo 13:8:7, although its style is more polished: Tanehiko died around the 27th or 28th day of the 7th month, according to a report my grandson Taro heard from lzumiya Ichibei during a visit to his home on 8:7/11 September. 78 In the diary, Bakin mentions that Tanehiko's death occurred the same day authorities seized the blocks for Inaka Genji; in Chosakudo zakki, there is no mention of blocks, but the date of Tanehiko's death is made to coincide with that of Tsuruya Kiernan's arrest and summons before the magistracy. An entry in the notebooks dictated to 0-Michi on 13:8:7/11 September 1842-apparently hours before Bakin learned for certain of Tanehiko's death-summarizes the entire case to date, and also provides a valuable glimpse into Bakin's own psyche: During the 6th month of 1842, Tsuruya Kiemon, the publisher of the

gokan e-zoshi picture book Inaka Genji, was summoned to appear before the civic magistrate. Yoriki constables conducted an interrogation, asking him exactly how much money he had given in payment to Tanehiko, the author of Inaka Genji. He was ordered thereafter to surrender every existing printing block of Inaka Genji. Tsuruya had experienced of late increasing numbers of misfortunes in his affairs, and had entrusted blocks for 39 chapters of Inaka Genji to three different creditors as collateraL He redeemed the blocks with great difficulty, and presented them as directed to the magistrate's offices. The case, however, has not reached a verdict. Rumor has it that this work, too, will be banned. For what they are worth, I record the reports here as an aid to my memory, just as I heard them, although doubtless there are facts here that I have misunderstood. The gesaku author Ryutei Tanehiko is a member of the kojunin escorts and of the kobushin regiments, Takaya Hikoshiro by name. He rents a samurai residence near Hottahara in Asakusa. (They also say that he lived first in Samisen-bori, Shitaya, but left the rented property for various reasons and moved to Negishi. I do not know the details.) His family estates are near Komatsugawa in Honjo. Around the 5th or 6th month of this year, he was under indictment. One report has it he was accused of complicity in lodging an extremely evil man in his home, and that he was confined to his domicile while a guard was stationed around it. It is not yet clear how much of this is true or false, but it is likely that this incident brought about official comment on Inaka Genji, and precipitated the summons to Tsuruya Kiemon as well as the confiscation of the blocks.

196

The Willow in Autumn

For fifty-three years now, since 1791, I have made my living writing gesaku, but it has been my great good fortune never to have suffered any official reprimand, nor to have experienced the prohibition of any of my works. But inasmuch as the authorities now see fit to execute their inquisition of newly published soshi booklets and the like with the severity demonstrated in the above incident, I have no choice but to forswear, from fear and caution, all composition of gesaku works for the remainder of my life. Even if [these restrictions] had not been imposed, my old eyes have grown progressively weaker during the past four years, to the point where I have been unable to write. Since the winter of the year before last [winter 1840-1841], I have had my daughter-in-law write for me, and so have managed to get along, though with difficulty. This cessation of writing, then, is my most fervent desire- but my constant concern is for my wife and daughters, who will suffer from perpetual need, day and night. My descendants, when and if they read this record, should consider the times/9

In this account, Bakin inclines toward considering personal malfeasance the motivation for official action against Tanehiko; the harassment of Tsuruya Kiemon and prosecution of Inaka Genji are secondary developments. New to this account is the embarrassment of the publisher, Tsuruya Kiemon, when asked to produce the blocks of Inaka Genji. It is not impossible that Tsuruya had lent out his printing blocks as securities on loans, but it is also possible, as the Edo hanjoki prosecution shows, that the publisher's protestations were a diversionary tactic. Who was this mysterious criminal entity lodged in the bosom of Tanehikds home? A valuable clue comes from Kitamura Nobuyds chronicle, Kiki no manima ni. Kitamura was no personal associate of Tanehiko, yet his account seems well informed of particulars. After a discussion of the publishing edicts of 1842, Kitamura continues: Tamenaga Shunsui, author of the "middle-sized books" known as ninjobon, was put in prison. Ryatei Tanehiko (Takaya Hikoshiro) was summoned by his [regimental] supervisor (Nagai Goemon?), who told him: ''You are harboring an individual by the name of 'Ryatei Tanehiko.' It is not good that the aforementioned party should write gesaku. You should expel him and tell him to stop right away.'' Ryatei's Inaka Genji, no less than Shunsui's works, was banned.

Kitamura then describes parenthetically how Tsuruya, bedeviled by financial worries, had hit upon the idea of a Genji-based gokan; the

The Willow in Autumn

197

work proved to be a great success. Just when Tsuruya was able to rectify his financial situation, however: (... he lost the printing blocks and collapsed immediately. Ryutei, too, profited from this work, and was able to purchase a house far superior to the one in which he had lived. The episode followed a major illness. When this incident occurred, he felt even worse, and finally passed away.) 80

Summoned before his kobushin regiment superiors, Takaya Hikoshiro was commanded to expel the parasitic miscreant ''Ryutei Tanehikd' from his household. This legal fiction, which dissociated the respectable samurai from his frivolous artistic alter ego, was in fact an ingenious means to an end: Once Ryutei Tanehiko had been exorcised, all improprieties imputed to Takaya Hikoshiro would be at an end. The testimony gains credibility by the allusion to Nagai Goemon, who figures as one of 8 kobushin regiment shihai (commanders) in an 1838 official directory. 81 It seems altogether possible that a misunderstood version of this dispensation was the nucleus of Bakin's "criminallodger" rumor. I know of no kako-cho "death registry" or ninbetsu-cho "registry of parishioners" from the Takaya family temple. The grave marker, of unknown date, records the date of death as Tenpo [1]3:7:19/24 August 1842-what we may term the "official" date. There is no indication of the manner of death on this simple marker. 82 Gesaku rokkasen gives the date as 7:18/23 August, as do all other texts of the same manuscript family; none of these, however, elaborates on the particulars. On the basis of these brief references in contemporary accounts, it is possible to sketch a tentative reconstruction of Tanehiko's final months during 1842. Despite the terror engendered by the sudden crackdown on ninjobon at the old year's end (February 1842), the publication of Inaka Genji, Chapter 38, proceeded much as usual. Further chapters, 39 and 40, were also in the works; some blocks were cut {May). Although the main thrust of the persecution seemed to be at an end after Shunsui's first conviction (March), rumors flew freely. To Shun'o, Tanehiko seemed a likely candidate for punishment, although Senka dismissed the idea as so much malicious gossip (May). Bakin heard rumors of Tanehiko forbidden to write gesaku {May), of Tanehikds demotion

198

1be Willow in Autumn

and exile to Kofu Qune). In June and July, the tempo of literary purges greatly increased. During these months, it seems likely that Tanehiko received a confidential warning or reprimand from an immediate supervisor, although there is no way of knowing when and where the initiative for this reprimand arose. Magistrate Torii Yozo conducted the trial of Ebizo, the second trial of Shunsui, and initiated proceedings against Terakado Seiken in the 6th month Quly-August) under the mandate of the Tenpo publishing edicts. Tanehiko, another highly conspicuous literary figure, warranted investigation. Rather than begin proceedings directly against Tanehiko, however, Torii initiated action against the far more vulnerable person of his publisher, Tsuruya Kiemon. Bakin's long summer letter to Matsusaka, which must date from the latter half of the 6th month, makes no mention of any irregular situation at Tsuruya's firm; his long Chosakudo zakki memorandum of 8:7/11 September, however, makes it clear that Tsuruya did receive a summons to appear before the magistrate during the 6th month-a summons we may therefore assign to the end of the month (early August). The yoriki (police constables) in charge of the interrogation were particularly eager to know the amount of money paid to Tanehiko in manuscript fees-a customary pretext for initiating proceedings against the author, who thereby became an accessory to the publisher's crime. 83 At this session, Torii instructed Tsuruya to produce all the printing blocks for Inaka Genji, including the unpublished chapters. For whatever reason, Tsuruya could not comply with this request until late August or early September. Tanehiko remained apart from this action, but he could foresee the prosecution and banning of the work, as well as a series of exemplary punitive fines. His health, never very good, had been weak since the previous summer. Taxed by the strain of the situation and the unusually violent heat of the summer, he died of natural causes (possibly some form of tuberculosis) around the middle of the 7th month (around 20 August). 84 After rectifying irregularities in the adoption papers for Yajuro, Takaya Hikoshiros widow Masako submitted an official death certificate to the proper authorities, on which 7:19/24 August appeared as the date of death. News of the Master's death may have reached Senka by the beginning of September; Bakin heard of it on 11 September. The

The Willow in Autumn

199

case against Tsuruya continued, however, well into the autumn, and still was not at an end 18 October, when Izumiya Ichibei sent his gift of sweet sake to Bakin. It was to be expected that the lack of definite information about a celebrity's death should prompt many rumors and theories, some sensational. Accounts of Tanehiko's death during and after the Meiji period often contain such hypotheses; frequently what is mere conjecture to one writer becomes an established fact to his successors. Prominent in these later biographies is a concern to discover what, in fact, was the true nature of Tanehiko's "crime," the ultimate source of his undoing. If, as seems likely, the author was earmarked as a scapegoat or exemplary victim, almost any charge would provide a suitable pretext for harassment. In the 150 years since Tanehiko's death, however, interpretive accounts have isolated now one, now another feature of his career as the decisive factor in his downfall. One category of hypothetical charges emphasizes irregularities in Tanehiko's personal conduct. A common assertion is that gesaku authorship was not suitable for a member of the samurai class, was an unseemly avocation. 85 In the motley ranks of gesaku authors, members of the samurai class were a decided minority, to be sure, but far from unknown. Among the most celebrated gesaku authors of samurai background were Hoseido Kisanji (1735-1813), Koikawa Harumachi (1746-1789), Umebori Kokuga (1750-1821), Ikku, Bakin, Horai Sanjin (fl. 1780), and Gabi Sanjin (1787-1864). Even the austere Watanabe Kazan, oddly enough, produced a sharebon. 86 The majority of authors in this select group were vassals to provincial feudatories or to collateral branches of the Tokugawa. Only a very few, like Hakurikan Boun, Hakurikan Boun II ( ? -1830), and Ota Nanpo were, like Tanehiko, direct vassals to the bakufu. Tanehiko was probably the highest-ranking of all samurai gesaku authors, in terms of protocol if not in terms of stipend. Contemporary documentation gives little reason to suppose, however, that samurai status and gesaku composition in the abstract were fundamentally inimical. Some writers designate "unbecoming opulence" as the primary charge against Tanehiko. Bakin, in his notebooks and correspondence, raises this possibility when discussing Tanehiko's new residence in Asa-

200

Tbe Willow in Autumn

kusa. Charges of extravagance or profligacy-almost universally applicable and impossible to refute-were much favored by the bakufu. Charges of immoderate magnificence, as we have seen, precipitated the downfall of Ichikawa Danjuro VII. The purchase of a new house at a time when edicts discouraged samurai from maintaining multiple dwellings might have paved the way for charges of extravagance. 87 An essential flaw in this argument is that Tanehiko made no effort to conceal his move, indeed advertised the fact prominently and extensively. If such a move was illegal or objectionable, it is hardly likely that pride, however brash, could banish prudence. A second set of theories stresses the objectionable character of Tanehikds Inaka Genji in the eyes of authority, and contends that this most celebrated work won its author both glory and final ignominy. A common weakness of these theories, equally, is the sheer conspicuousness of Inaka Genji from its inception in 1829. How could dubious or objectionable elements go unremarked a full thirteen years, in a work circulated in unprecedented numbers? To take another tack, there is nothing in Tanehikds earlier career or compositions to suggest any interest in challenging the limits of official tolerance. On the contrary, his letters to Senka display a keen awareness of morally sensitive issues, even during a relatively relaxed era. It seems highly improbable that obscenity, sedition, or elements in poor taste would have escaped internal censorship by the publishing guild, official comment, or Tanehikds ingrained professional caution for more than a decade. By some accounts, the excessive luxuriance of the printing and artwork was reason enough for unfavorable comment under the Tadakuni regime, which frowned on all flamboyance. The first paragraphs of the confidential "blacklist" of ninjobon, submitted to the magistracy in January or February 1842 before the New Year's raid, do in fact cite Inaka Genji as a example of objectionably lavish serial gokan publication: Re: Illustrated publications known as gokan e-zoshi and ninjobon I have discussed ninjobon already in my report dated the tenth of the month instant. Preparations are underway to sell gokan e-zoshi during the spring of the coming new year. Despite indications to decrease the number of colors printed on covers and to restrict the number of chapters, in fact there

The Willow in Autumn

201

is no sign of any significant reduction in the number of chapters. Moreover, in recent times a work in small fascicles entitled Inaka Genji has been printed and sold over a number of consecutive years. 88

(Omomuki [indications] is difficult to interpret, but in this context probably denotes publishers' previous assurances to the magistracy that ~xtravagant practices would be curtailed.) Inaka Genji here is reprehen:ible for its showiness; significantly, the paragraph makes no mention of he book's content or style. The gorgeous exterior of Inaka Genji was its most memorable attribute to a dispassionate contemporary observer, who equally has very little to say about the intrinsic merits of the text: The illustrated covers required some 12 or 13 color impressions, and were executed with meticulous precision; such beauty never had been seen before. All modern gokan, of course, have illustrated covers, but none could equal this in beauty and perfection of detail. ... This is the work they mean when they talk about "not inferior to the text of Murasaki herself." ... Although sequel works appeared, and their artists and overall presentation were not inferior, the authors' conceptions were clumsy, and the works did not resemble Tanehiko's at all. Posterity does not know it yet, but for our times, Inaka Genji must be termed the preeminent gokan. 89

Other biographers have stressed the possibility that Inaka Genji was objectionable on grounds of indecency. Amorous adventures do play a large part in the work, but little in the text or illustrations would strike the modern reader as risque. "Coy" and "coquettish'' are the upper limits of the work's erotic content in our eyes. There is almost no contemporary indication of how scabrous the work appeared to its first readers. Bakin, predictably, lambasts it in 1845 as "an evil book, an inducement to lust and a teacher of licentiousness, certain to damage morals."90 Later indications suggest an increasing notoriety. In 1910, Yoshikawa Kobunkan printed the first 10 chapters of the work, including miniature reproductions of the original illustrations. The first volume and its intended serial sequel were banned. As late as 1927-1928, Yamaguchi Takeshi felt compelled to tamper slightly with the text and illustrations to avoid censorship. 91 A government document from 1841 proposes, in fact, that obscenity would be a valid charge against Inaka Genji. In a memorial addressed to

202

The Willow in Autumn

the bakufu in 1841, Odagiri Seijur6, an official Confucian "advisor in residence" to the shogun, observes: Particularly [detrimental] are the e-zoshi picture books, whose circulation increases daily. The majority of these works imitate the kabuki stage, and skillfully include what are called nigao "face likenesses" of actors. Among them, I have heard, is one Inaka Genji, which reworks the 54 chapters of that other work. NowIse and Genji monogatari are nothing but lascivious writing from beginning to end, works certain to pander to license and disorder. Wise men of old have admonished us that young boys and girls should be forbidden to read them. To be sure, these works enable us to discern vividly the governmental offices and functions of antiquity, the clothing and appurtenances; their economical use of pure Japanese phrasing is most praiseworthy. But to rewrite these works in common and colloquial language to facilitate easier comprehension seems to me a deed far more reprehensible than that of the proverbial painter who draws a tiger and calls it a cat.... I earnestly beseech you, Sir, to ban the licentious and improper soshi works I have designated above, as well as poems or songs containing improper wording. 92

There is no new cloth in Odagiri's arguments against Ise and Genji monogatari: The works are pernicious, but have historical and stylistic value. Inaka Genji, however, has neither redeeming feature: It presents only the morally objectionable elements, and in an eminently accessible form. Uesato Shunsei proposes that this very memorial eventually triggered the 1842 edicts and literary purges. 93 Whatever its audience or impact, the document does suggest the plausibility of moral allegations against Inaka Genji. The scandalous reputation of Inaka Genji was probably more the result of Kunisada's illustrations than Tanehiko's text. Bakin, in a lette; of November 1835, reports rumors of friction in the publishing indus try long before the promulgation of Tenp6 Reforms: I have heard that the supervisory censor expressed his displeasure at the great quantity of indecent features in the artwork for Inaka Genji, but that [the publisher] Tsuruya, by spending quite a lot of money, was able to put the matter to rest.... The current rumor ... [text damaged] ... that certain publishers are making Inaka Genji into pornographic shunga prints, and selling them surreptitiously for [as much as] 2 bu 2 shu. Some insist that, sooner or later, it will go hard by them. Clearly, those topics closest to depravity are now, and always have been since earliest times, those most likely to win the public fancy-a fact one can only deplore.H

The Willow in Autumn

203

Tsuruya's bribe to silence the guild censor's objections is only rumor, but the shunga print collections Bakin mentions are real enough: From the mid-1830s and in subsequent decades, dozens of opulent albums derived either titles or subject-matter from the bestseller. 95 These underground publications, illicit from every perspective, inevitably tainted Inaka Genji by association, and prejudiced any examination. The allegation that Inaka Genji is in reality an extended satire on political conditions of its day, a caricature of scandals or excesses in the shogunal court, has won many adherents. Indeed, certain sources treat this hypothesis as a long-established fact. Ohashi Shintar6 (1868-1901), the editor of the most important Meiji edition of Inaka Genji, quotes the redoubtable Katsu Kaishu's explanation for Tanehiko's expertise in portraying state secrets: "Tanehiko was a hatamoto with a stipend of 200 hyo; his original name was Takaya Hikoshiro. He was an intelligent man, capable in both Chinese studies and Japanese literature, and so was able to penetrate at some depth the private shogunal apartments-a tactful man, like a taiko·mochi professional entertainer. He was extremely fond of old-fashioned things, and was always making a fuss about how Chikamatsu said this or Saikaku said that .... That famous Inaka Genji of his-he's writing about the Ooku inner apartments in that. At the time, the Cloistered Shogun [Ienari] was so extravagant, he had 40 concubines and 60 children. Tanehiko used him as a model, and created his "Genji," Mitsuuji, on the pattern of the Cloistered Shogun. Some details of the illustrations, some patterns are modeled exactly on those of the Hama Goden Palace. Since he was a hatamoto, by nature tactful and discreet, he could come and go through the chambers of the Ooku. His work is so entertaining precisely because he was conversant with things as they actually were; everything he's written comes alive on the page."

In tones reminiscent of the fawning ministers in the fable who heaped extravagant praise upon their emperor's nonexistent new clothes, Ohashi follows suit and quite unequivocally declares Inaka Genji to be a satirical depiction of Ooku conditions: Just as [Kaisha] said, the satire is extremely artful: Not even the slightest crudity or heavy-handedness can be detected. For this reason, readers are convinced that they are reading no more nor less than an imitation of Genji monogatari-yet what a heedless lot they are! 96

204

The Willow in Autumn

Whether Kaishu was serious or joking in this reported conversation is difficult to determine; certainly he of all people would have been aware of the Draconian proscription of any male beyond the solemn "cedar doors" to the Ooku quarters, with the sole exceptions of physicians, roju senior councilors, and, of course, the shogun .himself. Mitamura Engyo summarily dismisses the idea that Tanehiko might have seen the Ooku with his own eyes, and stresses the fact that no male 10 years or older had common access to the Ooku chambers, that not even closest blood relatives of inmates were permitted entry. "Leaks" from female relatives or acquaintances in Ooku service, too, he disallows: All personnel from the most exalted to the most menial were obliged to take oaths of the strictest secrecy upon entering service. Moreover, the structure of the Ooku hierarchy, like a set of nesting Chinese boxes, prevented all but a select number of administrators in the most privileged apartments or the intimates of the primary consort from sharing intelligence about affairs on the most elevated planes. Recently, he continues, writing in 1928, some :researchers on conditions in the Ooku attempted to garner firsthand information by interviewing former ladiesin-waiting. The results met with only limited success, for even in the Taisho period, fifty years after the dissolution of the bakufu regime, several of the potential informants refused to break their vows of confidentiality and to speak openly of things as they had been. 97 In an effort to determine from expert authority whether or not Inaka Genji depicts Ooku conditions faithfully, Engyo conducted a series of conversations during the 1910s with a certain Murayama Mase, who had served as o-tsuke churo "lady in perpetual attendance" to Tenshoinden, the primary consort of the 13th shogun, Iesada (1824-1858; r. 1853-1858). Over the course of five or six years of conversations, this same Murayama Mase repeatedly expressed surprise at the extreme paucity of Tanehiko's knowledge of Ooku conditions manifested in Inaka Genji, or, more charitably, at the extent to which Tanehiko concealed whatever inside information he might have possessed, out of deference and discretion. When Engyo showed his informant the original text and Kunisada illustrations of Inaka Genji, in an attempt to jog her memory back over the decades and to stimulate discussion, he discovered that, apart from one or two distinctive hair styles affected by the characters

The Willow in Autumn

205

of Tanehikds voluminous work, the graphic aspects of Inaka Genji were of no help whatsoever in eliciting memories. Even these minor details of hair style, he learned, were not exclusive to the Ooku, and could have been observed in any well-to-do quarter of Edo during the Tenp6 period. His informant was adamant in her insistence that conditions in the Ooku could not have been known to the world at large, even to a diligent researcher like Tanehiko, and that, even if Tanehiko had gained some knowledge of the Ooku by exceptional means, it was in the highest degree unlikely that he would have compromised himself by revealing his intelligences in so public a medium as kusazoshi. 98 A preliminary consideration of the early chapters of Inaka Genji reveals few parallels to the outstanding features of the political situation in 1829, the year of initial publication. 99 We would expect to find a voluptuary retiring shogun in his late fifties (Ienari), a feckless second son and heir in his thirties (Ieyoshi), and a venal minister or chief councilor in his sixties (Mizuno Tadaakira). Yoshimasa, the shogun in the first chapters of Tanehikds work, is perhaps not the ablest administrator, but he takes an active interest in government and hands down wise adjudications. Aside from his infatuation with Hanagiri, he is not depicted as lascivious or extravagant beyond the limits custom and his station condone. Mitsuuji, far from feckless, is a pillar of the state. There is no evil councilor or usurping minister in the Ashikaga shogunal administration to correspond to Tadaakira. When viewed as a whole, Inaka Genji in fact is highly favorable to the institutions and figures of the Ashikaga bakufu: Unaltered perpetuity of the regime constitutes the summum bonum in the moral scheme promoted throughout the work. Far from a critical or revolutionary document, Inaka Genji is, if anything, nostalgic and reactionary in its political orientation. How much of this sentiment is real and how much ironic is, of course, a matter for interminable debate. Outwardly, though, antagonism or defiance never make an appearance. While it is doubtful that Inaka Genji alludes to specific historical figures, it cannot be denied that its plot is preoccupied with the intrigues of ladies and servants in a shogunal court. If popular or Castle opinion linked Inaka Genji with the Ooku, it is possible that this general association, rather than any specific satirical overtones, incurred the

206

The Willow in Autumn

wrath of Tadakuni's watchdogs. Among Tadakuni's first moves after Ienari's death in 1841 was to purge the Ooku of more than a thousand women and attendants, and thereby diminish the entrenched political power of the women's quarters. Tadakuni, one supposes, might have welcomed an allegorical attack on Ienari; a work preoccupied with the women's quarters, or consulted as a favorite text by Ooku inhabitants, however, might well fall victim to a political purge. In other opinion, the principal charge against Tanehiko was not the composition of Inaka Genji at all but the authorship of one or more specifically pornographic, anonymous titles. Hayashi Yoshikazu attributes no fewer than five enpon "glossy books" to the closing seven years of Tanehiko's life. Of these, the most notable and the work most likely to be by Tanehiko himself is Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho (Brothel-ledger courtesan's tale of spring passions, 1836?). 100 The full-color illustrations are ascribed to ''Fukiyo Matahei," possibly a pseudonym for Kunisada; the anonymous text bears no date. The short work contains a plot familiar to readers of Shunsui's Shunshoku umegoyomi (Spring voluptuousness plum blossom almanac, 1832-1833): A young prostitute and her youthful lover, forbidden to meet in the brothel itself, must pursue their affair in secrecy. The thin story, however, is only a tenuous framework for a number of fairly explicit sexual encounters. At the conclusion the author promises a sequel to resolve the action, but the continuation apparently never materialized. According to "old man Otsuki" (possibly Otsuki Fumihiko, 1847-1928, a lexicographer of note), this Shunjo gidan was the key factor in Tanehiko's condemnation. 101 In Otsuki's reconstruction of Tanehiko's last days, the author made a first appearance before the northern magistrate, Toyama Kagemoto, on charges of impropriety in composing Inaka Genji. Toyama, however, dismissed the charges against Takaya Hikoshiro after ordering him to expel Ryutei Tanehiko from his home. Later, when informers linked Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho to Tanehiko, the hapless author received a second summons. Unable to think of a suitable defense, Tanehiko first sent a notice of illness and requested an extension. When the extension was denied, he committed suicide; his family claimed death from illness the next morning. Otsuki offers no documentation for any segment of this account.

The Willow in Autumn

207

This recension of events, imparted in conversation and first published by Miyatake Gaikotsu {1867-1955) in 1911, is not wholly sound. There is no evidence for any direct action by the magistracy against Tanehiko (as distinct from his publisher, Tsuruya), and Otsuki misplaces the dispensation Kiki no manima ni unambiguously ascribes to Tanehiko's regimental supervisors. The suicide theory and the theme of multiple summonses-neither of which is supported by any extant preMeiji source-reappear in many subsequent discussions, however, with numerous variations. Yamaguchi is undecided about the suicide theory, but supports the theory of two summonses before the regiment commander; Hayashi holds a similar theory, but emphasizes the damning discovery of an entire series of pornographic works. Engyo, on the other hand, inclines toward suicide, and argues that a second summons by the authorities was tantamount to an order to destroy onesel£. 102 By committing suicide, Tanehiko was able to ensure that his family would continue to receive its annual stipend. Had he confessed to writing Shunjo gidan, Engyo contends, the punishment surely would have entailed a disastrous diminution of his hereditary stipend, if not the complete disentitlement of his family. He draws an analogy between the demise of Tanehiko and that of Koikawa Harumachi in 1789. Harumachi, a senior vassal of the Ojima fief (Suruga) and "resident ambassador" of the fief in Edo, was at the same time a gifted ukiyo-e artist and gesaku author. After fifteen years of composing kibyoshi, Koikawa's Omu-gaeshi bunbu no futamichi (Rote repetition of the literary and the martial ways, 1789), a lukewarm spoof of Sadanobu's ethical injunctions, incurred official displeasure. When ordered to appear and answer charges, Harumachi pleaded illness, and died soon thereafter-perhaps a suicide. Did Tanehiko face dire consequences from a full government inquiry, as Engyo contends? The answer can never be more than speculative. I think it unlikely that the discovery of a single pornographic work would have meant the severe punishment meted out to Terakado Seiken. If, on the other hand, the bakufu intended to make a conspicuous example of Tanehiko, it is likely that the examination would have been protracted and eminently unpleasant. In the case against Kyoden, as well as in the cases against Shunsui and Seiken, we note as a general principle that the publisher was the primary defendant, while the author, artist,

208

The Willow in Autumn

and engraver (in rough order of culpability) were treated as accessory figures. Punishments reflected this perspective. Apart from Engyo, who mentions a light 5-kanmon (4,800-5,000 mon) fine for Tsuruya-hardly a crippling amount for one of the nation's primary publishing concerns-there is no record of the final punishment for the publisher of Inaka Genji. Despite the assertion of "immediate collapse'' in Kiki no manima ni, the Senkakudo publishing house did in fact remain solvent for ten years after 1842; there is no evidence that Tsuruya himself was imprisoned or banished; nor is there any record of the harassment of Kunisada, whose part in the 'production and success of Inaka Genji was at least equal to that of the author. 103 The relative criminality of Inaka Genji (if one may speak of guilt and innocence quantitatively), was thus inferior to, or at most equal to Shunsui's ninjobon-certainly not a capital offense. Tanehiko's legacy in the quarter-century between his death in 1842 and the Meiji Restoration was first the patrimony of his disciples. Unlike the followers of Shunsui, the students of Tanehikds style never constituted a cohesive group, nor did they achieve great eminence: Ryiitei Senka, who claimed the epithet ''Ryrrtei Tanehiko IT" around 1860, and Ryukatei Tanekazu (1807-1858) were the most commercially prominent, though their reputations were, by comparison with that of their mentor, only modest. In the end, Tanehikds works were his most enduring monument. The triumphs of Inaka Genji, in particular, inspired a whole generation of gokan loosely based on works from the classical corpus, or elaborate "costume piece'' serials in dozens of chapters. 104 Sequels and pastiches of Inaka Genji-the surest contemporary testimony of popular acclaimbegan to appear in 1847, once the aura of danger had faded from the original. Throughout the 1850s, two rival serials commended themselves to readers as the sole authorized sequel to Tanehikds unfinished masterwork, while Tanekazu's Usumurasaki Uji no akebono (Light purple, dawn at Uji; 1850-1855) transposed the four initial "Uji chapters" to a late medieval setting. The boundless appetite of readers for romances of Heian gallantry and Muromachi intrigue found its ultimate expression in Senka's Muromachi Genji kocho no maki (A Muro-

The Willow in Autumn

209

machi Genji, ''Kocho' chapter) which, in its :final chapters by Sansantei Arindo {1832-1901), perpetuated the mania for "Genji works" through 1881.1°5 Following the Meiji Restoration, the survival of Tanehiko's reputation depended less on the outpourings of self-styled successors like Takabatake Ransen/Ryutei Tanehiko ill {1838-1885) and his Ryutei-ha "Tanehiko school" of serial writers for the sensational press than on continued public enjoyment of original works. 106 Throughout the Meiji and Taisho periods, Inaka Genji held its own, although never as popular as less "theatrical" classics like Umegoyomi and Hiza-kurige. Reprintings provide a rough-and-ready gauge of popularity. Suzuki Juzo mentions the existence of an inferior wood-block reprinting of some 20 chapters, produced in or around 1882. 107 This garishly colored edition well may be the :first attempt to reproduce the work for a new public, forty years after the Tenpo interdiction. Including this cheap facsimile, Suzuki enumerates 16 reprintings of Inaka Genji (9 complete, 7 partial) between 1882 and 1953. Not surprisingly, eleven of the reprintings antedate the beginning of the Showa period in 1926, although it is curious that nearly half of all reprintings date from the single brief period 1910-1918. Among the devoted modern readers of Tanehiko's :fiction were authors who, in turn, :figured among the foremost literary names of a new age. Tsubouchi Shoyo (1859-1935)-like Tanehiko, of samurai stock but captivated by the artistic tastes of the townsman-cultivated a fondness for Tanehiko during endless hours in the moldering vaults of local circulating libraries. The exordium to his epochal essay on Japanese literature past and future, Shosetsu shinzui (The essence of the novel, 1885-1886), lists the author of Inaka Genji prominently in the pantheon of national literature. In latter portions of the essay, Shoyo repeatedly reproduces passages from Tanehiko's works as examples of his "kusazoshi compromise style," a language midway between "elegant" and "common" diction. Of all existing styles, he proclaims, this is the one most amenable to reform and adaptation into a suitably versatile medium for the new novel.1°8 A few months after the completion of Shosetsu shinzui, in April1886,

210

Tbe Willow in Autumn

young Shoyo published a critical essay devoted entirely to Tanehikds works, most particularly Inaka Genji. 109 Using terminology forged and tempered in the pages of Shosetsu shinzui, Shoyo deplores the lack of monumentality or stirring qualities in Tanehikds works, the lack of believable ninja (human sentiment) throughout lnaka Genji. The author's slavish adherence to the idiom of kabuki, Shoyo insists, renders his works equally superficial; his reliance on older plays or plots violates the cardinal duty of the true novelist to present in original manner a new segment of human experience. Shoyos deep admiration for the author, though, shines brightly from the opening lines of the discussion: Ryutei Tanehiko is a very prince [taikun] of kusazoshi, the supreme object of adulation for modern gesaku authors. The wondrousness of his style is, true to his name, like a willow in the wind: its form supple and gentle, its branches graciously plain, not twisted or ugly-all most felicitous. Even those who have never read grave and imposing Chinese prose, even ignorant women and children all appreciate and eagerly read Tanehikds prose works in kana script-no doubt because of their easy intelligibility. Even educated adults and men of intelligence will, on occasion, recite the words of this author and praise him, stating that modern authors are not his equal. This, too, must result from their delight in his exalted elegance.11°

The two twentieth-century authors most deeply affected by Tanehikds "exalted elegance," significantly, stood back from the mainstream, even took a certain pride in their anachronism. Izumi Kyoka (18731939) from youth devoured the works of Kyoden, Sanba, and Tanehiko in quantity. The eerier scenes of the early Ryutei yomihon were especially to his liking, but his critical remarks demonstrate a wide familiarity with the range of Tanehikds compositions. 111 Nagai Kafu's (18791959) attraction to Tanehikds work culminated in his Chiru yanagi mado no yubae (Shedding willows evening glow at the window, 1914), an album of fictional scenes from the last month of Tanehikds life.l 12 Against a bright backdrop of Edo at its zenith-bustling, cruel, splendid, above all unsuspecting as the dark forces of authoritarian repression envelop it-Kafu draws the solitary figure of the gesaku author, his own alter ego. Tanehikds conversations with publishers, disciples, household members alternate with hallucinations or reveries about his youthful gal-

The Willow in Autumn

211

lantries as a page in the Ooku, his devotion to Inaka Genji and fears that "the beautiful quiet dream of gesaku" soon may be broken. 113 Kafu's own recent experiences with Meiji censors no doubt kindled his sympathy for Tanehiko and his literary martyrdom. Tanehiko's love for antiquities equally attracts Kafu in Chiru yanagi, as the analogue to his personal flight from lifeless modernity to the paradoxical vitality of a dead or dying past. Today, two hundred years after his birth, interest in Ryutei Tanehiko and his achievements is almost entirely the province of a subset of specialists. Unlike the works of Akinari, Issa, or Ryokan, praised for their reflection of universal no less than contemporary values, Tanehiko's work has never achieved canonization as a classic, and consequently has languished in obscurity. What place, ultimately, may we grant Tanehiko in the broader spectrum of Japanese literary history? It is clear that his genius was not that of a great innovator, like Saikaku or Kyoden, but rather found expression in the sensitive refinement and synthesis of elements already at hand. In the crude vitality of the earliest gokan, he recognized a voice that, with training, could be coaxed into eloquence. His surprisingly successful graftings of theatrical elements, of "elegant" diction and even high classical allusions demonstrated the latent potential of the originally unprepossessing popular medium. The gokan tradition, thanks to Tanehiko, acquired an academic dimension far beyond its eighteenthcentury pulp antecedents, as it readily incorporated elements of Genroku-period material and literary culture. His firm rejection of lurid and sensational elements, his attention to detail and insistence on superior artwork-all attest to the author's high standards for his craft. While the production and publication of gokan persisted for more than forty years after Tanehiko's death, few would dispute the contention that his gokan works, in quality and acclaim, define the golden age of the genre. Tsubouchi Shoyo, in his 1886 appraisal of Tanehiko's works, comes close to considering him a "virtuous pagan," a man cursed by fate never to see the Meiji enlightenment: "If Ryutei Tanehiko were to be reborn in this age of cultural flowering, no doubt he would compose true novels of sublime beauty, far superior to his many soshi works." 114 Clearly,

212

The Willow in Autumn

it is not possible to draw a linear connection between the gokan of Tanehiko and the novels of an entirely new age. Yet in his striving for popular appeal, simplicity of expression, color and intricacy of detail without, at the same time, compromising the gracefulness and dignity of his endeavor, Tanehiko set a precedent Shoyo and his audience found admirable, and that we too can admire.

Notes Bibliography Glossary Index

Notes

1. TAKAYA HIKOSHIRO 1. Senka's biographical sketch, from Chapter 4 (1829) of his personal notebook Yoshinashigoto (Silly gossip; extant portions 1827-1861), appears in Mori Senzo, "Rytitei Tanehiko (sono ichi)," pp. 507-508. Ogino Baiu's biography, first discovered by Mori in the Ise Shrine archives in 1930, appears in Mori Senzo, ''Rytitei Tanehiko (sono ni)," pp. 515-517. 2. Gesaku rokkasen biography in Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, pp. 371-407. References to Tanehikds works appear frequently throughout Hasegawa Kinjiro, Kaku ya ika nino ki, pp. 1-50 (e.g. sections 2, 3, 12, 36-42, 72-73). On the authorship and origins of this latter work, see Sata Satoru, "Kaku ya ika nino kino shuhen," pp. 41-54. A substantial number of the comments about Tanehiko titles in Kaku ya ika ni no ki may reflect Tanehikds own notes or marginalia since, according to Sata, Hasegawa inherited a large share of Tanehikds personal library collection. 3. The Takaya family, both Tanehikds primary branch and a collateral branch, appears in Chapter 345 of Hayashi Jussai, ed. Takayanagi Mitsunaga et al., [Shintet] Kansei chojil. shokafu, VI, 140-142. (See Figure 3 for the Takaya family tree through Tomohisa/Rytitei Tanehiko.) 4. Letter text transcribed in Ichijima Shunjo, ''Rytitei Tanehiko no tegami," pp. 210-218. Hiraga Gennai (1729-1779) was another gesaku author who took pride in a descent from Takeda Shingen and his scattered bands of confederates; see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), [Kinsei] Mononohon Edo sakusha burui, pp. 111-112.

5. Takaya family devices from Hayashi Jussai, VI, 141. On Takeda crest, see Numata Raisuke, Nihon monshogaku, pp. 1140, 1125-1126. (Consult also depictions in Figure 2). 6. Baiu designation of birth date in Mori Senzo, ''Rytitei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 516. On the cold summer of 1783, see SaitO Gesshin, [Zotet] Buko nenpyo, I, 212 (Tenmei 3). Eruption of Mt. Asama and b~.ieful effects in ibid., I, 211 (Tenmei

216

Notes to Pages 10-13

3); additional natural disasters of the year enumerated in John Whitney Hall, Tttnuma Okitsugu, 1719-1788, p. 122. 7. Bakin records the visit in Kyokutei Bakin, ed. Teruoka Yasutaka, Eakin nikki, IY, 63 (entry of Tenpo 5:3:17/25 April 1834). Letter reference to the site of the dwelling, probably addressed to Ozu Keiso as well as to Tonomura Josai, in Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokansha, p. 185 (dated 6th month of Tenpo 13, i.e. July-August 1842). 8. Baiu assertion of Yamanote birthplace in Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 515. Engyo's designation of Yoshida-cho neighborhood in Mitamura Engyo, "Inaka Genji no sakusha," p. 205, and in his Edo buke jiten, p. 180. Koppatamoto in Koda Rohan, "Gendan," included in Koda Rohan sha, p. 371 (piece originally published in 1938). 9. Quotation from Edo bungaku chimei jiten, s.v. ''Yoshida-cho'' (Suzuki Kuranosuke). The author, Ukiyo Henrekisai Doroku Sensei, is probably a pseudonym assumed by the multifaceted Hiraga Gennai. Irie-cho, on the west bank of the Yokogawa Canal in Honjo, was noted for its time bell and its inexpensive prostitutes; see ''Irie-cho'' (Suzuki Kuranosuke) in ibid. 10. Terakado Seiken, ed. Asakura Haruhiko and Ando Kikuji, Edo hanjoki, ill, 241. Sudo Yoshizo, ed. Minami Kazuo, Fujiokaya nikki, p. 297, cites the text of a machifure general edict of the 3rd month of Tenpo 13 (April-May 1842) against excessive "hospitality'' and overt prostitution in unlicensed areas; Yoshida-cho figures near the very top of this list of notorious districts. 11. On functions of the Osakite-gumi, see Mitamura Engyo, Edo buke jiten, p. 101, and Inagaki Shisei, ed., Buke hennen jiten, p. 215. 12. Painting instruction in Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 401. Variant text emendation in Iwamoto Hiroshi and Iwamoto Kattashi, "Gesakusha ryakuden," p. 278. 13. Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 515. 14. Ryutei Tanehiko, Yosha-bako, p. 109. A more legible version of this same preface appears in Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Kishigami Masao, ''Yosha-bako," Onchi sosho series edition (1891), part 3, p. 3. 15. Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 515. On sodoku, the unthinking parroting of the received reading tradition for classical texts, see R. P. Dore, Edu· cation in Tokugawa japan, pp. 127-136. An interesting parallel use of San kuo chih yen-i as a gauge of literacy appears in an anecdote concerning the boyhood of the scholar Asaka Gonsai (1791-1860); see Kitamura Kojo, Samidare-zoshi, p. 97. 16. This version of the poetic reproval from Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 401. The version in Kimura Mokuro's Gesakusha ko hoi (Supplement to "Thoughts on gesaku authors"; ca. 1845) begins Kaze nite atama; see Kimura Mokuro, ed. Yumani Shobo, Gesakusha ko hoi, p. 241. 17. Ryutei Tanehiko, ''Ryuteiki," p. 355 (segment I:33).

Notes to Pages 14-19

217

18. Ibid., p. 348 {segment I:24). The same song, designated a kouta ballad, surfaces in the text of a yomihon work of 1809; see Ryutei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omo· kage·zoshi, p. 186. 19. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Yamada Seisaku, "Ryutei joruri-bon mokuroku," p. 417. 20. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, pp. 146-147 {entry for Bunka 7:3:16/19 April 1810). 21. Ibid., p. 144 (entry for Bunka 7:2:25/29 March 1810). The sprightly 7-7-5 meter possibly contains memories of the Genroku nagebushi lyric, which typically conforms to a 7-7-7-5 meter. 22. The earliest mention in the diaries of a wife is Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, p. 117 (entry for Bunka 5:8:24-28/13-17 October 1808), in connection with obtaining medication for rogai-a vague term for acute chest pains or possibly tuberculosis. On the marriage, see also Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, p. 74. (See Figure 4 for a genealogical chart of Tanehikds immediate family and descendants.) 23. Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 516. 24. On KatO Umaki and Kokugaku pursuits, see Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, pp. 62-63. 25. Kamo Mabuchi, ed. Kamo Momoki, "To Motoori Norinaga" (letter 67, dated Meiwa 4:11:18/17 January 1768), in Kama Mabuchi zenshu, p. 520. 26. Kamo Mabuchi, ed. Kamo Momoki, "To Motoori Norinaga'' (letter 68, dated Meiwa 6:5:9/12 June 1769), in Kama Mabuchi zenshu, p. 549. 27. Preface to ''Kada-shi kundoku Saimeiki doyo/wazauta zongi" (Residual doubts concerning the vocalization advanced by Master Kada for the children's song in the chronicles of the Empress Saimei), in Ueda Akinari, ed. Hayakawa Junzaburo, Ueda Akinari zenshu, p. 7. The enigmatic poem appears in Nihongi XXVI:23 (passage for Saimei 6:12:24/29 January 661), in the description of commissioning a vessel to aid the allied kingdom of Paekche against a joint SillaT'ang attack; see Nihon shoki (II}, ed. Sakamoto Taro et al., pp. 348-349. On the relationship between Akinari and U maki, see Blake Morgan Young, Ueda Aki· nari, pp. 33-35, 69-70, 94, 127; discussion of Akinari's meeting with Zenzo on pp. 92, 152 of same source. 28. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshu shui, p. 31 (letter of Tenpo 2:4:26/6 June 1831). 29. On copy of Ugetsu monogatari, see Hasegawa Kinjiro, Kaku ya ika nino ki, p. 40 (segment 70). On copy of Kogetsusho, see Mizutani Fuw, ''Ryutei Tanehiko," p. 302. 30. Mitamura Engyo, Edo buke jiten, p. 112. These figures and the relative proportions of hatamoto to gokenin are close to the figures obtained during a census in the Kyoho period {1716-1736); see Noda Hisao, Kinsei bungaku no haikei, p. 177. 31. Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, pp. 17-19.

218

Notes to Pages 20-28

32. Ibid., pp. 14-16. 33. Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 156-157. 34. Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 517. 35. Ibid. 36. Mitamura Engyo, "lnaka Genji no sakusha," pp. 205-206 (originally published in the August 1924 issue of Shin shosetsu). To my knowledge, there is no nineteenthcentury parallel or original version. The anecdote derives much of its piquancy from Tanehikds dismal failure to live up to the stereotype of the kobushin member-rowdy, haughty, and aggressively high-handed. An illuminating contrast with this pusillanimous vision of Tanehiko is the character of Katsu Kokichi (1802-1850), a more notorious member of the kobushin ranks, whose autobiography, Musui dokugen (Musui's solitary ramblings, 1843), proudly traces his swaggering scapegrace career and small-scale racketeering in contemporary Honjo. 37. This discussion is largely a compression of Tanba Motoji, "Hatamoto ni tsuite," pp. 310-313. Tanba sets the equation at 4 to to the hyo; 3.5 to is the figure used in Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, p. 159. 38. Ikari Akira, Ryntei Tanehiko, pp. 21-22. 39. Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 159-160. There are some typographical errors in the transcription of the arithmetic, but the final figures are accurate. 40. Moriyama Yoshimori, Ama no taku mo, p. 48. 41. See Oshids household budget in Mitamura Engyo, Edo buke jiten, pp. 226-227. 42. Tables of remuneration in ibid., pp. 437-462. 43. Fukuzawa Yukichi, ed. Konno Washichi, Fukuo jiden, p. 179. English version in The Autobiography ofYukichi Fukuzawa, tr. Eiichi Kiyooka, p. 186. 44. Aeba Koson, ''Bunka Bunsei-do no shosetsuka," Shikai 13:51 Gune 1892). The 5 gesaku authors under consideration in the article are Kyoden, Bakin, Ikku, Sanba, and Tanehiko. 45. Mizutani FutO, ''Ryutei Tanehiko," in Retsuden-tai shosetsu shi, p. 269. 46. Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 133-134; see also his "Ryutei Tanehiko no Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho," p. 141. 47. Kitamura Kojo, Samidare-zoshi, p. 100. On problems for samurai occasioned by low exchange rates, see Yoshihara Ken'ichiro, Edo no johoya, pp. 36-37. 48. On Ikku's ability to survive on the proceeds from his writings, see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 88. On Rokitsu's economic independence, see Kyokutei Bakin, [Mizunoe inu] Kiryo 'manroku, p. 263 (segment III:104). 49. Seikine Masanao, Shosetsu shiko, pt. 2, p. 69. 50. Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 24. Many of the characters in this 1808 yomihon seem decidedly ad hoc, and it may be that there is some encoding of young Tanehikds literary friends and associates among the figures of the work. Hanagata Motojiro, possibly a Tanehiko figure, serves as narrator for much of the work, and is among the few principals not stricken by 0-Sawa's terrible fury during her vindictive rampages.

Notes to Pages 29-35

219

2. LITERARY BEGINNINGS 1. Quoted in Tosa Ryo, "RyUtei Tanehiko no kyoka to senryii," p. 46. 2. Omagari Komamura, ed., Senryu daijiten, s.v. "kai," 1939-1941 ed.

3. This poem and above from Sugiura Seiichiro, "Tanehiko jihitsu no Ryutei kashn soko-hon (II)," pp. 28 and 30, respectively. 4. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, p. 117 (entry for Bunka 5:8:17/6 October 1808). This unpromising beginning to a poem might have been inspired by dozing over the line Fusu i miyo (Lo, the recumbent boar) in the fourteenth-century miscellany Tsurezuregusa. See Yoshida Kenko, "Tsurezuregusa," ed. Nishio Minoru, Hojoki; Tsurezuregusa, p. 100 (section 14); English version in Yoshida Kenko, Essays in Idleness, tr. Donald Keene, p. 13 (section 14). 5. Sugiura Seiichiro, "Tanehiko jihitsu no Ryntei kashn soko-hon (II)," p. 28. Further discussion of Tanehiko's possible affiliation with Magao's circle in Tosa Ryo, p. 46. Magao, the only kyoka poet to make a living from his grading and instruction, charged dearly for his expertise; ~ee Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), P· 21.

6. Both poems cited in Sugiura Seiichiro, "Tanehiko jihitsu no Ryntei kashn sokohon (II)," p. 34. 7. Haiwataru hodo from Murasaki Shikibu (pseud.), ed. Yamagishi Tokuhei, Genji monogatari (II), 46 (line 6); English version in Tbe Tale of Genji, tr. Edward G. Seidensticker, p. 242. Masamochi's work on the classics includes Genchn yoteki (Excess droplets from the Genji commentary), a painstaking compilation of errors and omissions from Kitamura Kigin's 1675 Kogetsusho, left unfinished at Masamochi's death in 1830. Mizutani Fute, ''Ryutei Tanehiko," p. 302, suggests that Tanehiko's knowledge of Genji originally derived from attending Masamochi's lectures. 8. Rymei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 141 (entry for Bunka 7:2:2/6 March 1810). Various schemes existed to introduce Chinese meter, rhyme, and schemes of thematic development into Japanese prosody-a Procrustean exercise pioneered by Kagami Shiko (1665-1731) and promoted by his ''Mino School" in the early eighteenth century. More an erudite game than a dynamic innovation, however, the kana-shi (kana-poem) movement soon sputtered out. This party effort of 1810 seems to be on the order of an experimental revival. 9. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, pp. 111. 10. Ibid., p. 115. 11. Ibid., pp. 116 and 117, respectively, for these two citations. 12. Kyorai passage in ibid., p. 129. Several travel diaries bear the unexceptional name Tsukushi kiko; Tanehiko here may be referring to a recent account by Yoshida Shigefusa, completed in 1802 and published in 1806. On madosen, see

220

Notes to Pages 36-38 Ryntei 7Jmehiko nikki, pp. 132-133. Further discussion of this term and passage

appears in Hinotani Teruhiko, "Sakuhin kenkyu kara sakka-ron e no tenkai," pp. 49-51. 13. Mitamura Engyo, "Inaka Genji no sakusha," p. 207. Tanehikds use of the demonstrative qualifier ano further offends by implying that Roko is thoroughly familiar to the partner in conversation. The most likely subjects of the reference are Segawa Kikunojo III/Roko {1751-1810) or Segawa Kikunojo V/Roko {1802-1832). Tanehiko commemorated the sensational consecutive deaths ofBando Mitsugoro III {29 January 1832) and Segawa Kikunojo V {8 February 1832) with his hastily composed gokan, Tsuizen Mitsusegawa jobon-jitate {A requiem for Mitsugoro and Segawa at the ford of the underworld, done up in form of the highest paradise; 1832)-the title an obvious allusion to the Shohon-jitate series. 14. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 111 {entry for Bunka 5:interc. 6:23/14 August 1808). Ihara Toshiro, ed. Kawatake Shigetoshi and Yoshida Teruji, Kabuki nenpyo, V, 418-419, gives the opening date of performance as Bunka 5:interc. 6:8/30 July 1808. On Shoroku's ostentatious requiem services at the Ekoin memorial, see SaitO Gesshin, [ZOtet] Buko nenpyo, IT, 39-40 {Bunka 5), and Yamazaki Yoshishige, Kairoku, p. 85 {segment III:49). Responsible in part for the success of the stage work was the popularity of its inspiration, Kyoden's yomihon "hit" [Fukushn kidan] Asakanuma {Strange tale of revenge: Asaka Marsh; 1803), whose terrifying version of the Koheiji story sold "by the hundreds"; see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 125. 15. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 125 {entry for Bunka 6:6:24/5 August 1809). On this production of Nippon furisode no hajimari, see Ihara Toshiro, V, 437, where the opening date appears as Bunka 6:6:16/28 July 1809; p. 438 of the same source chronicles the greater good fortune of the pedestrian replacement. 16. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 150 (entry for Bunka 7:4:27/29 May 1810). According to Ihara Toshiro, V, 453, the production Yaemusubi ]iraiya monogatari (Eightfold knotting tale of Jiraiya) began production Bunka 7:4:5/7 May 1810; though a critical success, it did poorly at the box office. 17. Moriyama Takamori, Shizu no odamaki, p. 253; cited in Ikari Akira, Ryntei Tanehiko, pp. 54-55. 18. The third Bando Mitsugoro was close to being Tanehikds contemporary; the second Bando Mitsugoro was over 30 years older than Tanehiko, and seems an unlikely candidate for a "double." Still, an association with Bando Mitsugoro II/Shuka {1750-1829) is advanced in Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 402, and in Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," p. 343. On the great contemporary acclaim for Bando Mitsugoro, see Shikitei Sanba, Shikitei zakki, pp. 64 and 62 {observations from 1811).

Notes to Pages 38-44

221

19. Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 402. 20. Variants of popular lyrics in Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikk~ p. 154. Kyoka on the "three greats" from ibid., p. 106 (entry for Bunka 5: interc. 6:3/25 July 1808). 21. See Figure 5 for a reproduction of this device. 22. ''Ryutei shujin'' signature in Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimayo no hoshi," p. 7; kanbun preface by Hakuan Gyokushi, dated Bunka 4:10:1/31 October 1807, on pp. 3-5 of same source. 23. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Yamada Seisaku, Agemaki monogatari, p. 1; preface dated 4th month, Bunka 4/May-June 1807. 24. Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 401. 25. Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 515, and Sekine Masanao, pt. 2, p. 59. 26. Nobuhiro Shinji, "Zekko bungei to bundan-Ryutei Tanehiko wo chushin ni," pp. 174-179. 27. Ibid., p. 175, and Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 27, where the eponymous Bakin is designated a gunsho-yomi "war-tale reciter." 28. On ''Kokoro no Tanenari" theory, see Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 516. Text of the "Kana Preface" in Kokinwakashn, ed. Saeki Umetomo, p. 93. For ''Kokoro no Tanetoshi" derivation, see Iwamoto Sashichi and Darnmaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, pp. 401-402. 29. Encounters with Enba in Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, pp. 145 and 147. 30. Ibid., p. 139 (entry for Bunka 7:1:21/24 February 1810) for attendance at hanashizome. ''Muraku," another celebrity in the enumeration, is Asanebo Muraku (1777-1831), a disciple of the influential Sanshotei Karaku (?-1833) and a close associate of Hayashiya Shozo (1781-1842). On these personalities, see Okitsu Kaname, Rakugo, pp. 87-88. For the hanashizome revival, see ibid., pp. 66-71; a discussion of Enba's "celebrity strategy'' to lend cachet to the institution appears in Nobuhiro Shinji, ''Hanashi no kai," Kokugo to kokubungaku 43.10:148-165 (October 1966). 31. Enomoto Kikaku, Yoshiwara Genji gojnshi-kun, p. 93. Use of Enba's features remarked in Ikara Akira, Ryntei Tanehiko, p. 190. 32. On Hokusai's later work for Tanehiko, see Jack Hillier, The Art of Hokusai in Book Illustration, pp. 184-185, 196-197, 272-273, 276-278, and Richard Lane, Images from the Floating World: The Japanese Print, pp. 272-274. On Tanehiko's prefaces and prose contributions to Hokusai's albums, see the preface to Book 11 of Hokusai manga (Hokusai's cartoons; published 1814?-1878?) in James A. Michener, The Hokusai Sketchbooks, p. 27, and preface to Book 1 of Fugaku hyakkei in Katsushika Hokusai, ed. Henry D. Smith, One Hundred Views ofMt. Fuji, p. 194 {translation by Haruko Iwasaki). 33. Saito Gesshin, [Zotet] Buko nenpyo, II, 85 (Tenpo 3). A letter from Hokusai to

222

Notes to Pages 45-51

Tanehiko alludes gratefully to assistance of an unspecified nature rendered by the author to Shigenobu; see the anonymously contributed "Ukiyoe-shi no tegami (I): Hokusai yori Tanehiko e," Ukiyo-e 15:28-29 (August 1916). 34. Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), pp. 135-136; p. 13 of the same source repeats Nishimuraya's family history. 35. On the publication of Sendai joruri, see Inoue Kazuo, [Keicho irat] Shako shuran, p. 68. Tanehiko comments on Oku-joruri, and discusses 6 or 7 specimens he encountered while rummaging through the "morgue'~ of the Eijudo, in Yoshabako, pp. 193-194 (segment III:3). Ryutei Tanehiko, Kankonshiryo, p. 232 (segment I:7), earlier notes the discovery of blocks from the Genroku period in the Eijudo, originally used to print "Pure Land sugoroku," a religious board game. 36. Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 136. Immediately afterward Bakin contrasts this servility with his own proud behavior, and asserts his firm personal rule never to beg favors from a publisher. 37. Tabulation of titles in Yamazaki Fumoto, ed., [Kaitei] Nihon shosetsu shomoku nenpyo, pp. 70-108. On the abrupt Bunka period (1804-1818) yomihon "boom" and equally dramatic subsequent "crash," see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), pp. 149, 175. 38. Publishing history of Nanso Satomi hakkenden (The eight dog-knights of the Kazusa Satomi, 1814-1842) analyzed in Mizuno Minoru, "Sosetsu" Introduction, Akinari; Eakin, p. 194. On early publishing difficulties with Hakkenden, see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 170. 39. 0-Sawa's homeliness "like the wintry moon'' or like "cosmetics on an old woman'' in Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 27. I have not been able to locate a comparable passage in Makura no soshi. On odd numerical groupings of crows, see Ryutei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage-zoshi, p. 187; the corresponding passage is Sei Shonagon (pseud.), ed. Ikeda Kikan et aL, "Makura no soshi," p. 43. No text incorporated into Ryiitei Tanehiko, Osha shujaku monogatari, pp. 344-346, especially Osha's description of the bridge on p. 345; compare with Yokomichi Mario and Omote Akira, ed., "Shakkyo," in Yokyoku shu (II), pp. 358-360. On the setting at the village of Mano, see Ryutei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage-zoshi, p. 176, which justifies the location by an obtrusive citation of Man'yoshu ill:396, by Kasa no Iratsume. 40. Ryutei Tanehiko, Yakko no Koman, p. 728. 41. On the use of fireflies to reveal rescuer's identity, see Ryutei Tanehiko, Awano naruto, p. 128; the passage also alludes to a celebrated incident in Ise monogatari in which the gallant Minamoto Itaru illuminates a lady by a :firefly he introduces into her carriage. A kitten as the accomplice to adultery :figures in Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 33. On Genji monogatari as an inspiration for the flashback technique, see the author's note in Ryutei Tanehiko, Osha shujaku monogatari, p. 269.

Notes to Page 51

223

42. Gabun terms tarachime in Ryutei Tanehiko, Awano naruto, p. 131 (the more conventional tarachine appears on p. 95); kazoiro and kamitsueda on pp. 95 and 131, respectively, of the same source. The characters of the early yomihon are themselves not free from bookish preoccupations. In [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 28, 0-Hana's unsuspecting note requesting the loan of a copy of Sumiyoshi monogatari-a romance either of the Heian period or thirteenth century-provides Ihei with startling evidence of her existence when he had supposed her dead; 0-Hana's subsequent message to Ihei, knotted to her kitten's collar, is a lengthy archaic choka poem of her own devising (p. 33). Most improbable is the first encounter of Natsukusa/Nadeshiko and Asama Tomoenojo Yoshiharu on the shores of Lake Biwa in Asamagatake omokage-zoshi. Her proffered fan contains the first half of a tanka poem, whose sequel the coy lady requests from the handsome traveler. Not only does Yoshiharu place the poem correctly, in the Shuishu third imperial waka anthology, he also traces it farther back to the second book of the Man'yoshu, and comments on its place in the Hitomaro corpus; see Asamagatake omokage·zoshi, p. 203; the poem itself (slightly simplified in Tanehikds citation) is Man'yoshu 11:140. 43. In Ryo.tei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage-zoshi, p. 183, the narrator remarks: "In the Mencius, I believe its name is, the text praises those who are in harmony with one another as 'lesser and greater zithers [kinshitsu],' while the I ching berates those who are discordant as 'gazing with averted eyes [hanmoku]."' SatO Satoru, "Kana-gaki Suikoden wo megutte," p. 60, cites the probable source of the I ching quotation as the commentary on the third line of hexagram 9, Hsiao ch'u "The Lesser Accumulation'': "The carriage strap has come loose; husband and wife gaze on one another with averted eyes." He notes, however, that the compound "lesser and greater zithers" does not appear in standard texts of the Mencius. The ultimate source of the metaphor, SatO points out, is the ode Ch'ang yang "Flowers of the Cherry Tree" in the "Lesser Elegancies" of the Shih ching (Mao number 164). (One may also note the citation of this same ode inCh. 15 of Chung yung "The doctrine of the mean.") I have not been able to locate a juxtaposition of these compounds comparable to the sequence in Asamagatake

omokage-zoshi. Ryutei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage·zoshi, p. 187, imperfectly renders a line from Ts'en Shen: "The cocks cry out; the light of dawn is cold." The source is the poem "Composed in harmony with Imperial Secretary Chia Chih's poem ~ttending early morning levee in the Ta Ming Palace'"; see Takagi Masakazu, ed., Toshisen [Tang shih hsttan] (IV), 36-37. An English rendition of the full poem appears in Witter Bynner, The Jade Mountain, p. 109. 44. Use of Yu-yang tsa-tu and Langyeh tai tsui p'ien for information on foxes in Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 61. Citations from Sou

224

Notes to Pages 52-55

shen chi and Pao p'u tzu on the value of mirrors to reveal sorcerers appear in Ryutei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage-zoshi, p. 189, and Osha shajaku mono· gatari, p. 355. In the modern printed edition, the titles of both latter miscellanies are consistently miswritten with homophonous characters. 45. Ryutei Tanehiko, Osha shajaku monogatari, pp. 365-366. Oborozome dyeing appears on p. 260 of the same source; hyakuiro-zome on p. 325. 46. See Ryutei Tanehiko, Awa no naruto, pp. 122-123, for prostitutes' lives and adornments; p. 139 of same source for nautical terminology during OYumi's voyage. On kaicho temple fair attractions, see Ryatei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 47; street vendors' cries recorded in Osha shajaku mono· gatari, p. 313. 47. Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, pp. 47-49, for digression on manners of the Yoshiwara; for Tsushima, see p. 58 of the same source. A frontispiece to the original1808 Yamazaki Heihachi edition reproduces a specimen of Tsushima's epistolary calligraphy on p. Sb, facing the beginning of the text proper. 48. Field-planting songs appear in Ryiltei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage·zoshi, p. 169; kouta ballads in Asamagatake omokage·zoshi, p. 186, and Osha shajaku monogatari, pp. 252 and 328; imayo "modern-style" performances in Awa no naruto, p. 105, Asamagatake omokage-zoshi, p. 177, and Osha shajaku mono· gatari, pp. 244, 326. [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 53, contains a nage· bushi lyric, while pp. 47 and 49 of the same source introduce the musical form non'yare-bushi. 49. Existing kouta interpreted as the orphaned daughters' lament for Dan no Issai in Ryutei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage·zoshi, p. 194. On ballad as origin of the name Fudo no Kichisa, see Rylltei Tanehiko, Moji-tezuri mukashi ningyo, pp. 452, 476. The same lyrics are interpreted with reference to Kichisa's special predicament on p. 560, as he heads off into exile to conduct a vendetta. The song in full form appears in the third book of Matsunoha as the hauta (ditty) San'ya-gaeri (Coming home to San'ya); see Shashoken, ed., Matsunoha, p. 470. The discrepancies between Tanehikds citation and the original are considerable and suggest quotation from memory or a variant text of Matsunoha. 50. Hell screen sermon in Ryutei Tanehiko, Moji-tezuri mukashi ningyo, pp. 517-519; Yadokari's sung account of Osha's murder in Osha shajaku mono· gatari, pp. 327-329. 51. Jirokuro's performances, his old-fashioned repertoire, and a sample of the recitation appear in Ryutei Tanehiko, Awano naruto, pp. 129-130. 52. Ryutei Tanehiko, Moji-tezuri mukashi ningyo, p. 452. The gauze barrier, Tanehiko demonstrates by a contemporary quotation from Kinbunrytl's (fl. 1700) Karanashi daimon yashiki (Karanashi manor of the great gate, 1705), also appeared for the premiere of Chikamatsu's Tora ga ishi, i.e. Soga Tora ga ishiusu (Tora Gozen's stone mortar, 1710).

-----------------------------------.

Notes to Pages 56-61

225

53. Ryutei Tanehiko, Seta no hashi Ryunyo no honji, p. 370. The explanations in parentheses are Tanehiko's own. 54. Ryutei Tanehiko, Moji·tezuri mukashi ningyi5, p. 452. 55. Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 70. 56. Ryutei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage·zoshi, pp. 222-227. This particular episode bears a strong similarity to the semeba {torment scene) in Kagamiyama ko· kyo no nishiki-e (Mirror mountain brocade print of the hometown, 1782; kabuki version 1783), in which the vicious Iwafuji taunts, then slaps mercilessly with her sandal the innocent Onoe. Following the incident, Onoe retires to her own chambers and "ommits suicide to protest her humiliation. Following her disgrace at the hands ofNadeshiko, Hototogisu also retires to write a final letter and commit suicide, but the intervention of Yoshiharu restrains her hand at the last moment. 57. Ryutei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage-zoshi, p. 233. 58. Ryutei Tanehiko, Seta no hashi Ryunyo no honji, p. 370. 59. Sanba's work is his Daijin-mai kuruwa no hajimari (Millionaire's dance, the beginnings of the pleasure quarter; 1810); see Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Tanehiko kenkyu," p. 471, and his "Ryutei Tanehiko no omoide," p. 516. Bakin's work is his Bakekurabe ushimitsu no kane (Contest of the ghosts, midnight bell; 1800); see Tenri Toshokan, ed., Eakin, catalog item 53 for photograph of the original · title page. 60. Mie stage directions in Ryutei Tanehiko, Seta no hashi Ryunyo no honji, p. 394; oroshi on p. 373; uta on pp. 411, 437, 439; hyoshi maku (curtain) on p. 406; encouragement to reader to insert cantillation markings on p. 446. 61. Polygons for dialogue in Ryutei Tanehiko, Seta no hashi Ryunyo no honji, pp. 407-421; Nishimuraya postscript to beg readers' indulgence on p. 445. 62. On association between the play and Tanehiko's work, see Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, pp. 101-102, 106. Tanehiko's version of the story-which ultimately goes back to a legend of the 1660s-considerably enlarges the complexity of 0Hana's (Nanboku's 0-Ume) past life, and emphasizes the demonic, not the pathetic features of 0-Sawa (Nanboku's 0-Iwa). 63. Kyokutei Bakin, "Oko no susami," p. 307. This critique, possible dating from 1813, is one of a trio of works composed to enumerate faults in the yomihon of three major rivals (Kyoden, Sanba, and Tanehiko).

3. GOKAN AND RENOWN 1. Ozaki Kyuya, "Tanehiko Shunsui no kenkyu," p. 135. Of the 80 fictional titles considered in this survey, 70 {87 percent), are gokan. 2. This figure is based on extrapolation of Yamazaki Fumoto, ed., [Kaitei] Nihon shosetsu shomoku nenpyi5, pp. 374-516. By "unit" I intend all discrete titles or

226

Notes to Pages 62-67

separate chapters of serial titles marketed in a single year. A count by titles alone necessarily would yield a lower figure. 3. Kajima Manbei, Edo no ynbae, p. 166. In a similar vein is a lament from 1927, that even well-educated modern youths find a page in a Western language more accessible than a page in standard kusazoshi script; see Mishina Rinkei, "Kusazoshi gokuseiki to ishin-go," p. 129. 4. Kimura Mokuro, Kokuji shosetsu tsfl, p. 253. The listing of Kansai authors appears in Kimura Mokuo (Mokuro), Kei-Setsu gesakusha ko, pp. 258-283. 5. Ishida Motosue, Gokan-mono no kenkyn, p. 369; see also his Kusazoshi no iroiro, p. 134, for early instances of the term. 6. It should be stressed that the tidy periodizations and designations common in modern treatments of kusazoshi evolution are the product of a later age. Frequently Tanehiko uses the terms akahon or aobon to designate the entire spectrum of kusazoshi production, historic and modern. To contemporary eyes, certainly, the differences in the phases of kusazoshi were less important than the fundamental unity of the productions. 7. Ryusentei, Kyowa zakki, p. 133. The date of the text is unclear, but 1805 is a reasonable guess. Moriyama Takamori, Shizu no odamaki, pp. 251-252, notes that, during his childhood in the 1740s, flying kites was primarily a diversion for children, but now (ca. 1802) it has achieved popularity among adults; similarly, the juvenile and appropriately didactic children's kusazoshi of his youth have become the province of adults, full of matters incomprehensible to the young. 8. Tozuisha, [Kokon zatsudan] Omoide-zoshi, p. 98. The author is perhaps Kurihara Nobumitsu (1794-1840). 9. Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 147-148. The work in question is Musume katakiuchi kokyo no nishiki (The maiden's vendetta, hometown brocade)-earlier thought to be the creation of Shiba Zenko (1750-1793). 10. Shikitei Sanba, Shikitei zakki, pp. 44-45. 11. Readers may refer to Ishida Motosue, "Gokan-mono no kenkyu," pp. 373-374; Suzuki Juzo, Gokan ni tsuite, pp. 6-7; and Takagi Yoshitsugi, "Kibyoshi yori gokan e no tenkai," pp. 41-46, for other terms and rival claimants for the distinction of "first gokan." Tanehiko's diaries allude on two occasions to the acquisition of gohon (combination books), though the term here probably connotes only a composite rebinding of older works; see Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, pp. 132 and 165 (entries for Bunka 6:12:23/28 January 1810, and Bunka 13: interc. 8:25/16 October 1816, respectively). 12. Quoted in Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, p. 6, from Mazu yonde Mikuni Kojoro (First read it, Kojoro from Mikuni; 1811). Ishida dates the work to 1812. 13. Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 166-167; see also his "Gokan-mono no kenkyu," pp. 374-375. 14. On higher quality of paper, see [Kyokutei Bakin], !wade mono ki, p. 186. Ikari Akira, Ryntei Tanehiko, p. 149, mentions color printing on covers as early as 1807.

Notes to Pages 67-75

227

Suzuki Juzo asserts that true printed covers date only from 1809, but notes that the practice had become universal by 1810-1811; see his Gokan ni tsuite, pp. 9-10. 15. Kyokutei Bakin, "Chosakudo zakki," pp. 411-412 (entry dated Bunka 5:9:20/8 November 1808); cited in Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, pp. 154-155. 16. Santo Kyozan, clearly partisan in his opinions, attributes the first use of nigao caricatures to his brother Kyoden's ingenious 0-Roku-gushi Kiso no adauchi (0Roku combs, vendetta in Kiso; 1807); see SantO Kyozan, Kumo no itomaki, p. 592. Additional information on nigao depictions appears in Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, pp. 179-180, and in Mizuno Minoru, ''K.usazoshi to sono dokusha," p. 107. On the modifications of nigao in reissues of Tanehikds works, to keep abreast of fluctuations in actors' popularity, see Saw Satoru, "Ryutei Tanehiko kusazoshi shomoku ko," pp. 79, 84, 86, 87. On ghostwriting for actors, see Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 52-56, and Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), pp. 54-55. 17. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, pp. 139-140. 18. Detailed biography in Nakayama Usho, ''Nishihara Shunko shoden," pp. 34-55. 19. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, p. 147. 20. Ibid., pp. 147-148, for the drafting of further titles. The entry for Bunka 7:3:21/24 April1810 notes a new start on Ageya tsuzura tsubasa no monbi (Teahouse clothes hampers winged crest holiday)-a title without close correspondence to any subsequent published work. Six days later, on 3:27/30 April, the author records a beginning to Kakesu no kuchimane (The jay's mimicry)-very possibly the beginnings of his comic kokkeibon in gokan format, [Hijo kowairo] Kakesu no saezuri (Unfeeling mimicry: Warbling of the jays; 1815). 21. SaitO Gesshin, [Zotet] Buko nenpyo, II, 26 (Kyowa period summary). 22. Ryutei Tanehiko, Ukiyo Ikkyu kuruwa mondo, p. 475. It is very likely that the cluttered gokan work Mushiken (''Bug fist," 1819) was also, in its preliminary stages, planned as a yomihon; see SatO Satoru, ''Ryutei Tanehiko kusazoshi shomoku ko," p. 78. 23. See opinions in Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, p. 175, and Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, p. 90. 24. Engeki byakka daijiten, s.v. "shohon" (Yamamoto Jiro), for examples of the multiple applications of this term. 25. Description of these Genroku synopses in Suwa Haruo, Shuppan kotohajime, pp. 135-136. 26. Shikitei Sanba, Shikitei zakki, p. 45. 27. A full account of the artistic genesis of the work appears in Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 98-100; plates 123 and 124 of this source reproduce two of the decisive triptychs. 28. These remarks do not appear in printed transcriptions of the integral Shohonjitate #1, but are transcribed in Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 100-101. 29. On Chikamatsu's presence, see Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, p. 200. Shohon-

228

Notes to Pages 75-81 jitate #5 bears the alternative tsunogaki title Kunisada Naniwa no iezuto (Kuni-

sada's souvenir from Osaka); see Saw Satoru, ''Ryiitei Tanehiko kusazoshi shomoku ko," p. 80. 30. Audience chatter before play in Ryutei Tanehiko, Shohon-jitate #2, p. 631, and #4, pp. 720-721; the peddler of sushi, umi-hozuki (marine whelk egg capsules), and chocho ("butterflies"-a toy or a snack?) makes his rounds in Shohon-jitate #4, p. 724. 31. Ryutei Tanehiko, Shohon-jitate #2, p. 641. 32. All examples are from Ryutei Tanehiko, Shohon-jitate series. Kono mie yoroshiku appears on p. 604 (#1); chon chon etc. on p. 896 (#9); ori kara tsuguru passage on p. 745 (#4). 33. As above, all examples are from Ryutei Tanehiko, Shohon-jitate series. Kotouta on p. 700 (#3); kangen nite tsunagi on p. 680 (#3); joruri recitation style on p. 674 (#3), pp. 745 and 753 (#4), and extensively on pp. 921-924 (#9). Utai "no chanting style" on p. 634 (#2); uta-zaimon ballad style on p. 822 (#7). 34. August Pfizmaier, "Uber den Text eines japanischen Drama's" (1870), p. 115. 35. Citation in Suzuki Jiizo, "Kaidai" explanatory booklet to facsimile version of Ryutei Tanehiko, Shohon-jitate: dai-jnni-hen (installment #12), pp. 15-16 (the date here is Bunsei 13:10:3/17 November 1830). See also IshikawaRyo, "Shodai Ryutei Senka nenpu ko (I)," p. 29 (date given as Bunsei 12:10:3/31 October 1829). 36. Ryiitei Tanehiko, Shohon-jitate #3, p. 671. 37. Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), pp. 44-45. 38. Suzuki Juzo, "Kaidai" explanatory booklet to facsimile edition of Ryutei Tanehiko, Shohon-jitate: dai-jnni-hen (installment #12), p. 9. 39. Ryiitei Tanehiko, original Shohon-jitate #7 (1824), pp. 1a-4a for depictions of actors and villas. See also Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, p. 101, and his ''Ryutei Tanehiko no Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho," p. 138. 40. Biography of Kunisada derives from Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, pp. 406-407; Tatsutaya Shukin et al., [Shin zoho] Ukiyo-e ruiko, pp. 228-229; Ikari Akira, Ryntei Tanehiko, pp. 206-216; and Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 91-98. 41. Shikitei Sanba, Shikitei zakki, p. 45. 42. Banzuke discussion in Ikari Akira, Ryntei Tanehiko, p. 213. This, or a comparable banzuke listing of 1813 is reproduced in Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," Nihon meicho zenshii ed., p. xxxvii. Here Tanehiko shares fourth place, maegashira status, with Santo Kyozan and Shinrotei (?-1815). 43. Hana-yashiki stroll in Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 153 (entry for Bunka 13:8:12/3 September 1816); frustrated visit in same source, p. 160 (entry for Bunka 13:8:30/21 September 1816). 44. An excellent exhaustive bibliographical enumeration of all Ryutei gokan titles appears in Saw Satoru, ''Ryutei Tanehiko kusazoshi shomoku ko," pp. 73-88.

Notes to Pages 82-85

229

On the displeasure of Magistrate Nagata Masanao in 1818, see this same source, p. 77, as well as Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 59. Several Tanehiko texts scheduled for publication in 1818 apparently were withheld by the publishers until1819, when Nagata's death brought an easing of tension. 45. Catalog of Kyoden gokan production in Mizuno Minoru, ''Kyoden gokan no kenkyu josetsu," pp. 177-182; Bakin's single-installment gokan productions in Mizuno Minoru, "Bakin no tanpen gokan," pp. 260-266. 46. Ryutei Tanehiko, E-ayatsuri nimen-kagami, pp. 222-223. Koman, the peddler and itinerant book-lender, also acts as go-between and mediator in the tumultuous relationship between 0-Natsu and Seijaro-a dual role that suggests the preface to Kyoden's yomihon Sochoki of 1813 in which the author equates gesaku works with brides, publishers with the nervous family of the bride, the readers with hesitant bridegrooms, and the kashihon'ya with the nakodo matchmaker or mediator, able to ensure the happy alliance of all parties; see SantO Kyoden, Sochoki, pp. 875-876. 47. Kyoden further insists that careful artwork is of critical importance, even in yomihon, the so-called "books for reading"; see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 129; see p. 138 of this same source for Torai Sanna's (1749-1815) testimony on Kyoden's habitual methods of composition. 48. See the transcription and discussion of directions for the artist in Suzuki Jazo, ''Kaidai" booklet to facsimile edition of Ryutei Tanehiko, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji: dai-shi·hen (Chapter 4), pp. 40-46. Tanehiko's comments range from prototype no drama figures or familiar kabuki types on which to model certain characters, to clothing patterns, hair styles, details of the text that must figure in illustrations, and developments projected for future installments. A few comparison examples of the preliminary cartoons and of Kunisada's faithful final renditions appear in Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," pp. 396-400. 49. The anecdote is related by an elderly former disciple, Yomo Umehiko (1822-1896), in Ihara Seiseien, ''Umehiko-o danpen," p. 78. Journey to Utsunomiya appears in Mizutani Futo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko," p. 302. 50. All the above quotations from Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 402. The reasoning and train of discourse do not seem entirely consistent throughout. Is this a conflation of several comments into one? A passage in Sugi Kuhei's Butai hyakkajo (One hundred observations on the stage), a brief work possibly from the mid-seventeenth century and anthologized in Yakusha rongo (The actor's Analects; preface date 1776), notes the parallel importance of attention to cosmetics and costumes for the actor and for the courtesan, and stresses the danger of careless habits during the early phases of a career. See Charles J. Dunn and Bunzo Torigoe, ed. and tr., The Actors' Analects, pp. 35-36, 101. Given the prevalence of mental (and frequently more tan-

230

Notes to Pages 85-89

gible) associations between the world of the theater and the prostitution quarters, this sort of analogy probably suggested itself to many writers independently. Tanehiko was sufficiently interested in Nakazo to compile a volume of extracts from his lengthy personal diary and stage memoirs, Tsukiyukihana ne· monogatari (Bedtime story of moon, snow, and blossoms; before 1790); see Nakamura Nakazo, ed. Engei Chinsho Kankokai, Tsukiyukihana ne·monogata· ri, pp. 1-71. 51. Ryutei Tanehiko, Kawazu no uta haru no no dote-bushi, p. 837; for a fuller description of this work, see Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," pp. 375-377. In Tajin-wage ima-Kokusen'ya (Chinaman's topknot, a modern Coxinga, 1825), a character openly debates in a monologue where to conceal money-for he is determined to avoid duplicating the shuka used in last year's crop of publications; see Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Tanehiko kenkya," p. 477. 52. Head on table in Ryutei Tanehiko, Mushiken, p. 977; skull transformation in Ona-moya inazuma-zome, p. 956; ascent via toad in Asamagatake keburi no sugata·e, p. 929. 53. Ryutei Tanehiko, Ukiyo-gata rokumai byabu, p. 997. The "disclaimer" is not entirely true, since a fortuitous letter from the mother of Sakichi, the romantic hero, functions as a "token," and enables Sakichi to realize that his current beloved is his long-lost fiancee. The conventional devices promoting reunions of old lovers or sworn enemies, however, are largely absent from the conclusion of Ukiyo-gata rokumai byabu. 54. An allusion to Confucius' insistence that he "hates to see purple usurping the place of vermilion'' (Analects XVII:18; see also Mencius VII (B):37), exceptionally, underlies an episode in E-ayatsuri nimen-kagami, p. 206, in which the maidservant Murasaki ("purple'') "usurps" or steals the cloak of her fellow maid Kurenai ("crimson, vermilion''). Readers unfamiliar with the Analects, however, might have recognized the passage from Tsurezuregusa #238, Yoshida Kenko's "seven articles of self-praise" (the source, in fact, specified on p. 210 of the Tanehiko gokan). 55. The poem itself is Shinkokinshfl XVII:1599: Hito sumanu The board roof Fuwa no sekiya no of Fuwa Barrier itabisashi where no man dwellsarenishi nochi wa dilapidated now, tada aki no kaze only the autumn wind frequents it. See references in Ryutei Tanehiko, E-ayatsuri nimen-kagami (1820), p. 214, and in the earlier Ona-moyo inazuma·zome (1816), pp. 935 and 947. 56. All above from Ryutei Tanehiko, Ukiyo-gata rokumai byobu, pp. 999-1000. The Saigyo poem is Sankashfl #470 and Shinkokinshfl IV:362. 57. Tanegashima muskets in Ryatei Tanehiko, Mushiken, p. 979; Onin War and Chashin-gura together in Karigane kon'ya-saku no hayazome, pp. 760, 762.

Notes to Pages 89-91

231

58. New Year's bustle in Ryiltei Tanehiko, Asamagatake keburi no sugata·e, pp. 920-921; jtJruri passage and illustration of the female puppeteer Hitachi Kohagi in same source, pp. 912-913 and 938-939. 59. Enumeration of Genroku-style tables of contents in SatO Satoru, ''Ryiltei Tanehiko kusazoshi shomoku ko," p. 76. The glowering Kinpira appears on the

inside cover of the initial fascicle of Musume Kinpira mukashi e-zlJshi; both fascicles of this original 1821 Senkakudo edition have archaic, Torii-style actor depictions as one element of their intricate "composite" covers. 60. Ryiltei Tanehiko, E-ayatsuri nimen-kagami, pp. 221 and 231; religious kaeuta variant version of the song on p. 244. 61. The work is Musume Kinpira mukashi e-zlJshi (1821), developed around a verse possibly by Kanno Tadatomo (1625-1676): Shirasumi ya White charcoalyakanu mukashi no from some snowy branch of oldyuki no eda uncharred. See Ryiltei Tanehiko, Musume Kinpira e-zlJshi, p. 245 for prefatory presentation of conflicting attributions. For a full discussion of this text and its plot, see Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 250-258. 62. Hasegawa Kinjiro, Kaku ya ika nino ki, p. 27 (segment 39) and p. 16 (segment 22). Additional examples of Hasegawa's literary "sleuthing" to discover Genroku precedents in Tanehikds works are segments 2, 3, 12, 16, 22, 35-42, 46, 51, 53, 54, 56, 62, 65, 72, 73, and 77. 63. On derivation of title from Kigin verse, see preface to Ryiltei Tanehiko, Omi· naeshi tatoe no Awashima (1823), p. 577; use of Nanshoku tJkagami in Nanshoku ume no hayazaki (1820), p. 782. Use of Jisho work in Futatsuwari teboso no murasaki (1820) is discussed in Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Tanehiko kenkyil," pp. 448-453. On Tanehikds role as a precursor, perhaps as an inspiration to Awashima Kangetsu's (1859-1926) epochal rediscovery of Saikaku in the middle Meiji period, see Saw Satoru, "Kaku ya ika nino kino shuhen," pp. 51-52. 64. According to a laconic entry in Yamazaki Yoshishige's (1797-1856) zuihitsu compilation Kairoku (1820-1837), Tanehiko paid Yamazaki a visit on Bunsei 4:11:27/21 December 1821, and in the course of the conversation, mentioned his intention of composing a jtJruri text for a production at the Ichimura-za the following New Year's season; see Yamazaki Yoshishige, ed. Hayakawa Junzaburo, Kairoku, p. 107 (section IV:16). The best known examples of nineteenth-century gesaku authors who composed for the theater as well are Jippensha Ikku and Hanagasa Bunkyo (1785-1860). It is far easier, however, to find names of playwrights who composed gesaku works as a sideline, e.g. Segawa Joko II (1757-1833) and Namiki Gohei ll (1768-1819). 65. Ryiltei Tanehiko, Mumesakura furisode nikki (1812), p. 1. 66. Writing desk as stage in Ryutei Tanehiko, Tl5jin-wage ima-Kokusen'ya (1825),

232

Notes to Pages 92-98

p. 681. Mankind likened to actors in preface to Musume kyogen san-Katsu banashi (1821), p. 405. 67. In his letter to Tonomura Josai of Tenpo 2:4:26/6 June 1831, Bakin assumes Tanehiko draws extensively from a collection of "two to three hundred joruri plays" to manufacture his patchwork productions; see Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshu shui, pp. 29-30. In his Edo sakusha burui three years later, however, he only attributes "several dozen'' joruri texts to Tanehiko's arsenal; see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 45. 68. The conventional "Ichimura-za" becomes ''Ichimura Uzaemon-za"-the hereditary name of its zamoto impresarios since the purchase of "stock" by the original Ichimura Uzaemon in 1652-in Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, pp. 125 and 129 (entries for Bunka 6:6:24/5 August 1809, and 6:7:5/15 August 1809, respectively). There may be a note of irony in the designations, since both occur in connection with the failed revival of Chikamatsu's Nippon furisode no hajimari (see Chapter 2, note 15). 69. Text is transcribed as furoku appendix to Chikamatsu Monzemon, ed. Takano Tatsuyuki, Chikamatsu kabuki kyogen shu, IT, 489-514; preface on p. 493. On Mizuki Tatsunosuke, apparently a special favorite ofTanehiko, see the zuihitsu discussion in Ryatei Tanehide (Rymei Senka), Orokaoi, pp. 129-132 (segment II:2). 70. See suggestions of benign fraud advanced in Saw Satoru, ''Ryutei Tanehiko kusazoshi shomoku ko," p. 77. 71. See prefaces to Ryutei Tanehiko, Mukashimukashi kabuki monogatari (shonichi), p. 575, and Mukashimukashi kabuki monogatari (futsuka-me}, p. 598. An excellent discussion of these works, and of Tanehiko's keen interest in contemporary oral narrative arts, is Saw Satoru, "Kusazoshi to zekko bungei," pp. 92-101. 72. Ryutei Tanehiko, Kaya-san mannen-soshi, p. 149. 73. Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, p. 114 (entry for Bunka 5: interc. 6:28/19 August 1808). This same play appears in the inventory of "works used" in the preface to Chapter 3 (1830) of Inaka Genji; see Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Yamaguchi Takeshi, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji, I, 85. 74. Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, p. 67. . 75. Four titles are cited by the author in the preface to Futatsuwari teboso no murasaki (1820); see Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Tanehiko kenkya," pp. 448 and 453, for a transcription of the preface and a discussion. 4. «OLD SCRAPS AND PIECES"

1. Mori Senzo, ''Ryatei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 517. 2. Hand-washing basin in Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, p. 128 (entry for Bunka 6:6:28/9 August 1809); Chinese writing kit in same source, p. 149 (Bunka 7:4:7/9 May 1810); sword description on pp. 162-163 (Bunka 13:interc. 8:6/27 September 1816).

Notes to Pages 99-100

233

3. ''Weasel-slashes" (kamaitachi)-a sort of cyclonic welts?-in Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 119 (entry for Bunka 6:5:29/11 July 1809); ghostly rider over Ryogoku Bridge on p. 160 (Bunka 13:8:27/18 September 1816). A parallel sighting of the ghostly rider appears in Ota Nanpo, Hannichi kanwa, p. 384. 4. Prisoner's rosary in Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 123 (entry for Bunka 6:6:4/16 July 1809); tablet-producing machine on p. 127 (Bunka 6:6:27/8 August 1809); Igakkan decoration on p. 150 (Bunka 7:4:22/24 May 1810). 5. On kuchi ga suku natta, see Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 111 (entry for Bunka 5:interc. 6:15/6 August 1806). The etymology proposed here, from kuchi no su ga naku natta (mouth vinegar disappeared), appears in "classicized" form in a yomihon text published in 1809; see Ryatei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage-zoshi, p. 205. Names for woman's bald spot in Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 124 (Bunka 6:6:8/20 July 1809); pokonpokon toy on p. 125 (Bunka 6:6:17/29 July 1809). 6. Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, pp. 160-161 (entry for Bunka 13:interc. 8:2/23 September 1816). The primer is Shinsen ruijn orai (Newly selected correspondence arranged by categories). 7. Ibid., p. 131 (entry for Bunka 6:12:20/25 January 1810). 8. Ibid., pp. 128-129 (entries for Bunka 6:7:1-2/11-12 August 1810). On possible identification of Tsukushi kiko, see Chapter 2, note 12. Hasegawa Kinjiro, Kaku ya ika nino ki, p. 11 (segment 14) points out that this description of Muronozu was incorporated thirty years later in the ''Hari~a'' installment to Tanehikds Kantan shokoku monogatari (1840-1841). 9. Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, pp. 163-165 (entry for Bunka 13:interc. 8:18/9 October 1816). Chirizuka no dan is a zuihitsu compilation of 1814, by Ogawa Kendo (born 1737). 10. Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 111 (entry for Bunka 5:interc. 6:23/14 August 1808). Nakamaro no toki mo irubeshi in the original poses problems of interpretation, for it might imply "One should include him in tl:ie same era as Nakamaro." The Man'yoshn poems in·question appear in Man'yoshn (/), ed. Takagi Ichinosuke, Gomi Tomohide, and Ono Susumu, pp. 43 and 41. Is it possible that Tanehikds interest in the Manyoshn was stimulated by the recent 1805 reprinting, Man yo waka-shn, edited by Tachibana Tsuneakira and Yamada Korefumi? Or was it simply background reading for Asamagatake omokage-zoshi (see Chapter 2, note 42)? 11. Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryntei Tanehiko nikki, p. 113 (entry for Bunka S:interc. 6:25/16 August 1808). The allusion may be to Manyoshn I:71 (Ytlmato koi) by Osakabe no Otomaro; see Manyoshn (/), ed. Takagi Ichinosuke, Gomi Tomohide, and Ono Susumu, pp. 44-45. 12. From Obayashi Utaki, Tanehiko receives the gift of an antique saiken, "whds

234

Notes to Pages 101-104

who," directory of Yoshiwara personnel of the 1750s; see Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, p. 131 (entry for Eunka 6:12:12/17 January 1810). On Eunka 13:8:11/2 September 1816, the author records a loan of 5 titles from Utaki, including Koshoku ichidai atoka (Life of an amorous man; edition not specified), the rare Hachimonjiya publications [Keiset] Utajamisen (Courtesan's tuneful shamisen, 1732) by Jisho and Kiseki, and Keisei Taiheiki (Courtesan's Taiheik~ 1744); see Ryutei Tanehiko nikki, p. 153. Utaki remained a lifelong friend of Tanehiko and, in the postscript to his personal waka collection of 1849, extolls the virtues of the author while relating how, after Tanehiko's death, his widow presented him with an antique Genroku wakashu ningyo (minion doll) much prized by her late husband; see Asakura Haruhiko, "Kaidai" afterword to Ryutei Tanehiko, Rymei Tanehiko nikki, p. 172. 13. [Kyokutei Eakin], !wade mono ki, p. 191. 14. Ibid., p. 194. The quotation appears in almost identical form in Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Eakin), p. 140. 15. [Kyokutei Eakin], !wade mono k~ p. 197. The comment is an ironic reference to the San tu fu (Rhapsodies on the three capitals) by Tso Ssu (fl. 300)-a work so popular that the demand for copies allegedly sent the price of paper soaring in metropolitan Loyang. 16. The work, entitled Kottoshu horikai-possibly meaning "Shells dug up from the Kottoshu"-appears on pages 11:16a-30b in the holograph manuscript notebook Ryutei-o zatsuroku/Miru koto nakare-preserved in the Kaga Collection, Tokyo Central Metropolitan Library. 17. Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," p. 346; see alsop. 343 for reproduction of the seal. 18. Mori Senzo, ed., ]inbutsu itsuwa jiten, II, 439. The anecdote originally appeared in Tsunoda Chikurei, "Zogon," in the May 1916 issue of Mina omoshiro. 19. Asakura Haruhiko, ''Ryutei Tanehiko kyuzo-hon kanken," p. 8. 20. Tanaka Seibi, "Tanehiko no shutaku-bon," p. 36. This article of 1915 is particularly important for its references to volumes from Tanehiko's library subsequently lost in the Great KantO Earthquake of 1923. 21. "Hassui zuihitsu," ed. Nihon Zuihitsu Taisei Hensha-bu, p. 144. The subscription date is the 5th month of Eunsei 13, i.e. June-July 1830. 22. Enomoto Kikaku, Yoshiwara Genji gojushi-kun, pp. 93-94. 23. See Tenna shoishu, ed. Hayakawa Junzaburo, p. 139. Musashi abumi (Musashi stirrups, 1661) is an account of the devastating Meireki Fire of 1657, and is ascribed with some uncertainty to Asai Ryoi (1612-1691). Edo-banashi (Edo stories, 1694) is a straightforward geographical survey of Edo in the Genroku period; Murasaki no hitomoto (A single shoot of lavender, 1683) is a more poetic survey of the city compiled by Toda Mosui (1629-1706); Tanehiko refers frequently to its contents in his zuihitsu compilations. On Tanehiko's great stoke of luck in locating both halves of the original Genroku edition, in 1818 and in 1825, see

------------------------------------------------------------------------m

Notes to Pages 105-110

235

Asakura Haruhiko, ''Ryutei Tanehiko kyuzo-hon kanken," p. 9, and Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 526. 24. Tanaka Seibi, p. 36. The date of the inscription presents some uncertainties, and may be 1819 or 1821, depending on the interpretation of a problem character in the sexagenary year designation. 25. Ibid., p. 37. Here as elsewhere, intervening years are computed inclusively. The Kyoto publishing firm of Izutsuya Shobei/Asuiken, founded by a disciple of Matsunaga Teitoku, was best known for its editions of haikai works. See Inoue Kazuo, p. 7. 26. Ibid., p. 37. Moichi (also Moichi, Moitsu; 1586-1643) is also responsible for Mo· ichi senku (A thousand verses by Moichi), published in Ise.:Yamada in 1649. 27. Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ichi)," pp. 512-513. This inscription presents the same dating problems mentioned in note 24 above. Torinoko·gami, here rendered "chick paper," is a glossy, high-quality, and especially durable variety of Japanese paper. 28. Shiranshitsu Shujin, ed. Ichijima Kenkichi, Edo chiribiroi, p. 172. 29. Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 521. See alsop. 520 of this source for Tanehiko's postscript, in which he details his efforts to produce a scrupulously accurate facsimile of the 200-year-old autograph manuscript in his private library. Tanehisa kiko (Tanehisa's travel journal) is a poetic diary kept by Tokunaga Toemon Tanehisa (also, Hisatane) to record a journey undertaken in 1617 from Yanagawa in Kyushu to Kyoto and on to old Edo. 30. The inventory is reproduced and discussed in Matsumoto Ryushin, "Shodai Ryutei zosho mokuroku," pp. 180-201. 31. On Bakin's library, see Leon M. Zolbrod, Takizawa Eakin, p. 35. 32. Yoshiwara bibliography appears in Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Ichijima Kenkichi, ''Yoshiwara shoseki mokuroku," pp. 173-184; koshoku title bibliography in Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Ichijima Kenkichi, ''Koshokubon mokuroku," pp. 145-171; haikai bibliography in Mizutani Futo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko haisho bunko mokuroku kaidai," pp. 293-320. 33. Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Ichijima Kenkichi, ''Koshokubon mokuroku," p. 156. 34. Reprinted in Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Yamada Seisaku, ''Ryutei joruri-bon mokuroku," pp. 405-437. A large reference collection of joruri scripts, for inspiration, imitation, or textual appropriation, was perhaps not unique to Tanehiko among gesaku authors: In 1904 or 1905, an auction of rare books contained a lot of some 500 joruri scripts allegedly preserved from Shikitei Sanba's library; see Mizutani FutO, ''Kosho no kenkyu," p. 271. 35. See author's addenda to main text, Ryutei Tanehiko, Kankonshiryo, p. 303. 36. Hillier, pp. 196-197, points out the antiquarian cast of many illustrations, some of them scrupulously detailed reproductions of Moronobu e-hon picture books. 37. On peddlers of cheap sukigaeshi paper, see Kitagawa Morisada/Kiso, Kinsei fazoku shi, I, 158. On the use of sukigaeshi paper in early kusazoshi, see Suzuki

236

Notes to Pages 111-115

Toshio, Edo no hon'ya, I, 126; Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Eakin), p. 417; and the preface to Ryatei Tanehiko, Karigane kon'ya-saku no hayazome (1826), p. 757. On the requiem use of the paper, see Kyokutei Eakin, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 417, for an early instance of the practice, at the funeral rites for Emperor Seiwa (d. 880). 1: 38. The title orthographyffi~%-j~ is homophonous with:%-~k~B The former refers to a sort of "in-box/out-box" organizer for documents with two compartments: one for papers of possible use, the other for papers already handled. 39. Nihon koten bungaku daijiten, s.v. "Yosha-bako," (Watanabe Morikuni). 40. Ryatei Tanehiko, Yosha-bako, ed. Nihon Zuihitsu Taisei Henshu-bu, p. 109. 41. Ibid., p. 110 (jugen prefatory remarks). Later editions of Yosha-bako, ironically, deleted the bold display of Tanehiko's name from the cover-very probably in response to the undesirable connotations the name had acquired during the Tenpo Reform. See Mizutani FutO, ''Ryatei Tanehiko," p. 283. 42. Ryotei Tanehiko, ''Rytitei hikki," p. 317. 43. Rare exceptions to this general principle of excluding personal reflection or reminiscence might be the lyrics to a song about sweet-potato prices, remembered from youth, in Ryatei Tanehiko, ''Ryateiki," p. 331 (segment I:3); or a mention of the author's wife's relatives and their family tradition of offerings to Inari in same source, p. 342 (segment I:17). 44. See, for example, the preface to SantO Kyoden, Kottoshn, p. 256, in which the compiler remarks on his editorial principle of providing full yomikudashi expansions for all Chinese quotations, and cautions that "intellectuals will find much to mock in these pages." 45. Ryatei Tanehiko, Yosha-bako, p. 110 (jugen prefatory remarks). 46. Ryatei Tanehiko, Karigane kon'ya-saku no hayazome (original Senkakudo edition), p. 16a. 47. Reproduced as Ryatei Senka, Ytmagi no itokuzu, reprinted with Ryatei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko et al., Ryntei Tanehiko nikki (zoku), Mikan bungei shiryo, 1st series, rv, fasc. 2, pp. 1-32. 48. From Ryatei Tanehiko, ''Kogetsu o-araiko," in Ryatei Senka, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ytmagi no itokuzu, pp. 30-31. There is some similar wordplay in the advertising text for Genji chazuke (Genji rice congee), reproduced on p. 16 of this same source. 49. Gunji Masakatsu, ''Ryatei Tanehiko no zuihitsu to shosetsu," pp. i-ii. 50. Text of advertisement reproduced in Masuda Tajiro, Hikifuda; e-bira; nishiki-e kokoku, p. 102. Takezawa Toji's initial top-spinning performances occurred in 1844 and 1849, and precipitated a "top mania" throughout Edo; see SaitO Gesshin, [Zotei] Buko nenpy15, II, 103-104 (Koka 1) and II, 117 (Kaei 2). Crowds jamming into a yose theater to watch a performance in 1850 caused the theater gallery to collapse; see Yoshihara Ken'ichiro, Edo no joho-ya, p. 102. On "grafting a Takezawa to a tree," see Chapter 5, note 8.

Notes to Pages 116-121

237

51. Kagurado, ''[Tanehiko saku; Hokusai ga] Asakusa nori no hojo," pp. 26-27. 52. Text reproduced in Masuda Tajiro, pp. 101-102. The scholarly references in the text are too numerous for individual exposition here, but some brief mention of the sources may illustrate the range of Tanehiko's inquiries. Azuma monogatari (Tales of the eastland, 1642) is a poetic prose discussion of famous sites around Edo, and especially informative for its description of the Old Yoshiwara. Shikineron {also, Shikionron; Discourse on sounds and appearances, 1643) provides a metrical account of a journey from the vicinity of modern Fukushima to Edo. The author is probably Tokunaga Tanehisa {see note 29 this chapter). Kyorai kon may be an orthographic or typographical error for Kyorai bun {Kyorai prose texts; published 1791) or for Kyorai gin (Kyorai lyrics, 1733)representative anthologies of Mukai Kyorai's {1651-1704) compositions. Ryori monogatari (Tales of cuisine, 1643) is one of the oldest and most widely quoted of all culinary studies; its chapters include a survey of regional delicacies. Pure Jure koyuki, lines from a children's song at least as old as the twelfth century, occur in Sanuki no Suke nikki (Diary of Sanuki no Suke, ca. 1110), though Tanehiko probably encountered the passage in section 181 of the much more generally familiar Tsurezuregusa. 53. Ryutei Tanehiko, Yosha-bako, pp. 137-138 {segment I:11).

5. NISE MURASAKI INAKA GENJI {1829-1842} 1. Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 61-63. 2. Ryutei Tanehiko, Fuji no suso ukare no cho-chidori, p. 947. Also cited in Ikari Akira, Ryu.tei Tanehiko, p. 270. Akahon fiction here designates kusazoshi fiction more generally {see Chapter 3, note 6). 3. Kitamura Nobuyo, Kiki no manima ni, p. 224 (Tenpo 13). 4. Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 14. Bakin claims Konpira-bune and Keisei Suikoden as the first serial gokan; Shohon-jitate he disqualifies as a claimant, on account of its numerous different stories. On Konpira-bune, see also Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no inoiro, pp. 77-78. 5. Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, p. 103. The recurrence of this situation suggests in fact some sort of commercial "gimmick" or "humbug" to stimulate sales by simulating excessive demand. Bound copies were lacking for the kibyoshi hits Bunbu ni-do mangoku-doshi (The twin literary and martial ways 10,000-koku winnow, 1788) by Hoseido Kisanji {1735-1813), Tenka ichimen kagami no umebachi {Potted plum crest on the mirror of the entire realm, 1789) by Torai Sanna {1749-1815), and Omu-gaeshi bunbu no futamichi {Parrot repetition of the twin literary and martial ways, 1789) by Koikawa Harumachi {1744-1789), and purchasers were provided with threads to sew their own copies; see [Kyokutei Bakin], !wade mono ki, p. 187, and Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 395. On Keisei Suikoden more generally, see Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 72-74.

238

Notes to Pages 121-129

6. Ryutei Tanehiko, Shinobugasa jidai maki-e {1828), p. 877; in a similar vein, see the preface to Ryutei Tanehiko, Fuji no suso ukare no cho-chidori (1831}, p. 947. The various versions of the Mahaprajfiaparamita sutras (Dai-hannya (mitta} kyo) are among the lengthiest in the Mahayana canon, although the term tendoku (revolving reading) usually refers to an abbreviated symbolic reading of the start and finish of a sutra, and so does not seem entirely appropriate for this listing. The two "Wakana'' chapters are among the very longest in the Tale of Genji, even when counted individually. A nage-zukin squared-off bonnet is incongruous on Fukurokuju, one of the "Seven Gods of Good Fortune," customarily depicted with a long beard and an enormously elongated head. 7. Gen no Naishi fan exchange mentioned in Ryotei Tanehiko, Asamagatake omokage-zoshi, p. 222; fireflies to show features in Awa no naruto, p. 128; see also the protestation in Awa no naruto, p. 102, that young Tsuru is only barely able to write out the elementary Naniwa-zu ni poem in detached kana characterssurely an echo of similar claims made about young Murasaki by her protective grandmother in "Wakamurasaki." See Murasaki Shikibu, ed. Yamagishi Tokuhei, Genji monogatari (I}, p. 204; English version in Ibe Tale of Genji, tr. Edward G. Seidensticker, p. 97. 8. Ryutei Tanehiko, Shin Utsubo monogatari, p. 613. Toshikage is the hero of the first segments of Utsuho or Utsubo monogatari (Tale of the hollow tree; late 10th c.?), a work reflected in the Tanehiko gokan. 0-Chiyo is the principal female role in Chikamatsu's Shinjfl yoi-goshin (Love suicides on the eve of the koshin vigil, 1722), another plot source. The idiom ki ni take wo tsugu (grafting bamboo onto trees)-apparently a favorite with Tanehiko-denotes an improbable juxtaposition or forced association of disparate elements. 9. Tatami matting discussed in Ryutei Tanehiko, "Ryuteiki," pp. 352-353 (segment I:10}; the quotation is from the "Suma'' chapter. Sugoroku appears in the same ''Ryuteiki," pp. 355-356 (segment I:33}; quotation on p. 356 is from the "Tokonatsu" chapter. Fan lore appears in Ryutei Tanehiko, ''Ryotei hikki," pp. 332-343 (segment III:6), Genji citation on p. 341. In "Momiji no ga," Genji laughs at Gen no Naishi's inappropriately youthful choice of fans, and exchanges her fan for his; see Murasaki Shikibu, ed. Yamagishi Tokuhei, Genji monogatari (I), p. 291; English version, Seidensticker, p. 144. 10. Publisher's announcement reproduced in illustration to Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," p. 341. 11. Ryutei ·Tanehiko, ed. Yamaguchi Takeshi, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji, I, 10. (Abbreviation NMIG in subsequent notes to this chapter denotes this standard Nihon meicho zensho series edition.) 12. George Sansom, A History ofjapan, 1334-1615, p. 220. 13. Telescopes in Ryatei, NMIG, I, 782-785, and II, 220-221; striking clocks in II, 688, 733, 735, and illustration to I, 324-325; shamisen on I, 150; kiseru pipe on

Notes to Pages 129-132

239

I, 187 and 220; "Southern barbarian fire arts" in II, 281; exposition of deliberate anachronisms in preface to Chapter 16 (1835), on I, 617. 14. Nihon bungaku daijiten, s.v. ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genjt'' (Yamaguchi Takeshi). 15. Renga linked verse in Ryatei, NMIG, II, 202; otogizoshi tales and Kunisada's pictorial imitation of e-makimono scrolls, II, 202-206; references to Sesshu and Sogi, II, 205. 16. Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Tanehiko to kohon Inaka Genji," p. 442. 17. "Wagtail thrush'' coiffure in Ryutei, NMIG, II, 456; maids' archaic hairstyles, I, 533; sashes "in Kichiya style," I, 383. See also discussion of this actor and his trend-setting fashions in the posthumously edited Ryutei Tanehiko, ''Ryutei iko," pp. 326-328. 18. General history of the many moves of this quarter in the early seventeenth century in Ono Takeo, Yoshiwara; Shimabara, p. 35. 19. Gendayu likened to Kinpira in Ryutei, NMIG, II, 448. Illustrations in Genroku style include Mitsuiji's scolding by his stern grandmother, in I, 88-89; the cover of Chapter 14a (1835), which reproduces the akahon nursery booklet Nezumi no yomeiri (The mice's nuptials, 17th c.); and the book cover of Chapter Sa (1831), in which Genji consoles a terrified Yugao while the phantom of the Rokujo lady hovers nearby-an illustration possibly copied or modeled from an original work by Okumura Masanobu (1686-1764). 20. Otsu-e contained in chest in Ryutei, NMIG, I, 64; Otsu-e advanced as prototypes of ukiyo-e, II, 210-211. See also the inside cover to the original Chapter 2a (1830), which portrays a youth and his falcon in the robust, unmannered style of Otsu-e. (Otsu-e or Oiwake-e also appear prominently in the author's earlier gokan work Ona-moyo inazuma-zome [1816], where they are clearly intended as an archaic counterpart to modern ukiyo-e paintings and prints.) 21. Ryutei, NMIG, I, 164. The model passage, from the ''Yugao'' chapter, is Murasaki Shikibu, ed. Yamagishi Tokuhei, Genji monogatari (I), p. 133; English version, Seidensticker, p. 63. 22. Kouta in Ryutei, NMIG, I, 255, 593, 812, and II, 120, 574; nagebushi in NMIG, I, 150, and II, 326-327, 424-425. 23. Nise murasaki in Miyako no Nishiki, Furyu Genji monogatari, p. 485. On derivation of "Mitsuuji" from Furyu gozen Gikeiki, see Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Tanehiko to kohon Inaka Genji," p. 436, and his ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," p. 362. Yamaguchi treats this as his own discovery, but the same observations and deductions had been made fifty years earlier in Hasegawa Kinjiro, Kaku ya ika nino ki, p. 4 (segment 2). 24. Ryatei, NMIG,I, 85. (More extensive discussion of individual titles in this list appears in note 30 below.) 25. Of the joruri titles on this list, the most important may be Chikamatsu's Kokiden u no ha no ubuya (Kokiden and the parturition hut thatched with cormorant feathers, 1712) and Aoi no ue (The lady Aoi, 1679?), a piece possibly by

240

Notes to Pages 132-134

Chikamatsu. For descriptions, see Imai Takuji, Genji monogatari hihyo shi no kenkyn, pp. 346-348. 26. Episode in Ryutei, NMIG, I, 14-18; general discussion of precedents in Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," pp. 367-368. 27. Murasaki Shikibu, ed. Yamagishi Tokuhei, Genji monogatari (I}, p. 29 n.38; English version, Seidensticker, p. 4. 28. Miyako no Nishiki version of prank, in Fnryn Genji monogatari, pp. 497-498. Hanagiri's insistence in Ryutei, NMIG, I, 17-19. 29. Ryutei, NMIG, I, 3-4. Shikibu Lane (Shikibu Koji) was a side alley in Nihonbashi; the designation derives from the name of a physician, Kushimoto Shikibu-no-kyo, and has no intrinsic connection with Murasaki Shikibu. Sedoka is an archaic form of waka poetry, distinguished by a repetitive pattern of 38 syllables in the sequence 5-7-7-5-7-7. Yoshikono refers to ditties with the meaningless refrain yoshikono, popular for about fifty years after their origin around 1820. Dodoitsu, similarly, refers to popular ballads linked eponymously to Dodoitsubo Senka (1796-1852); though frequently in a 7-7-7-5 meter, there was much variation. The 0-Fuji frame story, it must be noted, disappears almost without a trace after this preface; the only subsequent allusion is an isolated mention in the preface to Chapter 35 (1841); see Ryutei, NMIG, II, 577. 30. Ryatei, NMIG, I, 3-4. Kakaisho (Rivers and seas commentary) is a formal commentary possibly by Minamoto no Yoshinari (1326-1402), composed around 1390; KogetsushiJ (Lake moon notes) is Kitamura Kigin's celebrated variorum commentary, published in 1675. Kogaisho synoptic works mentioned are Genji kokagami (Small mirror of Genji) from the early fifteenth century and Nonoguchi Ryuho's ]njo Genji (10-volume Genjt), composed for young readers in 1661. Several partial colloquial renditions in ukiyozoshi format by Baiopossibly a pseudonym of the artist-publisher Okumura Masanobu-figure on the list: Kohaku Genji (Red and white Genji, 1705), Wakakusa Genji monogatari (Young grasses Genji monogatari, 1707); Hinazuru Genji (Crane fledgling Genji, 1708). Genji binkagami (Genji sidelocks mirror, 1660) is a haikai-oriented work, which provides appropriate verses for the subject matter of each chapter. Wholly unrelated is MonogusatariJ (Lazy Taro, 1749), a joruri play depicting a rise to success against a background of Akechi Mitsuhide's (1526-1582) conspiracy to assassinate Nobunaga. The tsunogaki subtitle to the play is ]njo Genji (Genji in 10 volumes)-hence the bookseller's confusion? Kokiden uwanariuchi (Kokiden's vengeance against a new bride) may be a punning reading of Chikamatsu's Kokiden uno ha no ubuya (see note 25 above), which includes Aoi among its characters, or may be an entirely independent kabuki production of 1724. Numerous shrines or sanctuaries existed to honor the deified Hitomaro

Notes to Pages 135-141

241

(more frequently, Hitomaru), the patron divinity of waka poetry. Such a shrine appears prominently in the second chapter of Inaka Genji, as the trysting place for Mitsuuji and Fuji no Kata; see Ryfitei, NMIG, I, 65ff. In her ignorance, 0-Fuji mistakes religious terms for near homophones from the vocabulary of the marketplace. Sangan (3 views of the reality of the phenomenal universe) suggests sangan (3 strings of cash); shimon (the "4 entries" or 4 attitudes to the nature of existence) suggests shimon (4 copper cash); ichibu hakkan (the Unique Work, or single copy [of a sutra] in 8 books) sounds like ichibu (one-quarter ryo in gold) and hakkan (8 strings of cash). This substitution of the profane or commonplace for the .sacred or refined echoes the earlier instances in the preface of massive confusion at the bookseller's. 31. Ryfitei, NMIG, I, 207. 32. in Chapter 27, published in 1838 and probably composed in December 1837, the religious demagogue Denkan stirs up a grotesque rabble to riot; Mitsuuji, though initially surprised by the attack, calmly incinerates the mob with a sort of Greek fire. See Ryutei, NMIG, IT, 272-281. Might this intrusive episode, at considerable variance from the author's usual intimate scale, in fact be an echo of the Oshio Heihachiro rebellion in Osaka, in March 1837? 33. Ryfitei, NMIG, I, 43. 34. Ibid., I, 170. See also the parody of scholarly genealogy charts in the chart constructed entirely from ichimon·ningyo clay "penny dolls," in the preface to Chapter 5 of 1831; Ryutei, NMIG, I, 170-171. 35. Ibid., I, 177-181. The passage demonstrates a strong metrical element, of alternating 7- and 5-syllable segments. 36. Ibid., I, 60-61. Shiraito provokes the quarrel by boldly carrying an amulet against thunder, for the use of the shogun, on a sanbo offertory or presentation stand. 37. Ibid., I, 176-177. 38. Ibid., I, 106-107. 39. On danmari acting and its importance in early kabuki, see James R. Brandon, ''Form in Kabuki Acting," pp. 66-68. 40. Ryutei, NMIG, I, 71-72. 41. An interesting parallel is the 1951 Daiei film version of Genji monogatari, directed by Yoshimura Kozaburo. Faced with an analogous requirement for fastpaced action and visual impact, the film introduces an attempt on Genji's life to accelerate the tempo of events at Suma. See Oka Kazuo, Genji monogatari jiten, pp. 442-443. 42. Preface to Chapter 5 (1831); Ryutei, NM/G, I, 167. 43. From preface to Chapter 29 (1839?); Ryfitei, NMIG, IT, 331. The association of "Genji" with members of the Minamoto/Genji clan prominent in the late Heian period probably was strong for Tanehiko, too. The elaborate associations and parallels that follow in the preface to Chapter 29 (IT, 331-332) suggest that

242

Notes to Pages 141-148

an historical setting in the late Heian or Genpei-Wars period, and not the Muromachi period, might have been the original conception for Inaka Genji. 44. Ryutei, NMIG, II, 430 (in Chapter 31), and II, 546 (in Chapter 34). 45. All "bathhouse'' quotations above from Ryutei, NMIG, I, 371 and 374. 46. Exposition of three phases most clearly enunciated in Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," pp. 333-338 and 367-371. 47. In Kazan'in kisaki arasoi (Quarrel between the empresses of Retired Emperor Kazan, ca. 1678), for example, the murderous rivalry of Fujitsubo against Kokiden leads to civil war. On Chikamatsu's freewheeling adaptations of Genji for joruri performance, see Imai Takuji, pp. 342-348. 48. The author enunciates the idea laughingly in the preface to Chapter 18 (1836); considers attainment of the "Uji chapters" an enticing possibility in the preface to Chapter 29 (1839?); and announces his distant goal with quixotic bravura in the preface to Chapter 36 (1841). See Ryutei, NMIG, I, 699; II, 332; and II, 617, respectively. 49. Suwa Haruo, pp. 198-199. On printing and sales figures for yomihon and gokan titles, see also the helpful tabular discussion in Hamada Keisuke, "Bakin ni okeru shoshi, sakusha, dokusha no mondai," pp. 234-238. Most yomihon averaged, in all printings, 300-500 copies; even the very successful Hakkenden only merited 700-750 copies. Gokan, typically, appeared in editions of 5,0008,000-fully 10 times the size of the typical yomihon edition. 50. Quoted in Suwa Haruo, p. 199. 51. See Konta Yozo, Edo no hon'ya-san, p. 144; Suwa Haruo, p. 197; and Aeba Koson, p. 47. According to Hamada Keisuke, p. 235, Yamazaki Yoshishige (1796-1856) in his Kairoku (Ocean-vast chronicle, entries 1820-1837) claims a total circulation of 10,000 for Inaka Genji-but I have not been able to locate such a passage in Kairoku. Bakin in 1834 estimates that the maximum potential market, in all printings, for a successful kusazoshi is 15,000-16,000 copies-a saturation figure perhaps first realized or approached by Inaka Genji. See Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 58. The fact that kusazoshi works appeared in several ordinary as well as deluxe editions makes it difficult to state with precision what were typical prices. A Kyozan work of 1819 suggests that the ordinary kusazoshi cost around 60 mon, a deluxe edition around 200; see Saw Satoru, "Ryutei Tanehiko kusazoshi shomoku ko," p. 77. This correlates well with [Kyokutei Bakin], !wade mono ki, p. 187, which in 1820 offers a typical price of 72 mon. Kimura Mokuro, Kokuji shosetsu tsil, p. 252, in 1849 mentions prices of 100-120 mon for kusazoshi of the Bunka period (1804-1818) and later. 52. Aeba Koson, p. 36. 53. Mitamura Engyo, "Inaka Genji no sakusha," pp. 212-213. 54. Mitamura Engyo, "Fukushd' appendix to Ryutei, NMIG, pp. ii-iii. 55. The earliest recounting of this anecdote seems to be Mizutani FutO, "Ryutei

Notes to Pages 148-151

243

Tanehiko," pp. 301-302, in 1897. Horinouchi Myohoji, suburban at the time, now stands in the eastern portion of Suginami ward in modern Tokyo. 56. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshn shni, p. 98, in addendum to a letter of Tenpo 13:9:23/26 October 1842, to an unknown party. 57. See Bakin's responses to urgings in Kyokutei shokanshn, pp. 50 and 62, from letters of Tenpo 2:2:21/3 April and 2:4:14/25 May 1831, respectively. 58. Nagatomo Chiyoji, Kinsei kashihon'ya no kenkyn, p. 159. The Daiso operated as a lending library from 1767 through 1899. The library apparently maintained a standard policy of ordering multiple copies of new kusazoshi and ninjobon titles from Edo publishers. At 5 copies, however, /naka Genji was the best represented among all kusazoshi titles in the holdings. Second best represented among all kusazoshi titles in this same Daiso collection were ]iraiya goketsu monogatari (Tale of Jiraiya the hero, 1839-1868) andSegawaJokoiifs(1806-1881) Yo wa nasakeukina no yokogushi (Pity our companion, combs of rumor; 1853-1855), both available in 4 sets. 59. See Mori Senzo, ''Jinbutsu zakko: Sakata hoshoroku," p. 248. Upon closer examination, the impostor reduced his claims and merely represented himself as ''Ryutei Tanehiko II." This observation ultimately derives from a zuihitsu miscellany compiled by Ikeda Gensai (1775-?), a native of Tsuruoka and a retainer to the Sakai family of Shonai han. 60. Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 37. Might this incident in fact be a garbled version of Ryutei Senka's pilgrimage to Ise in May-June 1830, conveyed by Ozu Keiso in Matsusaka to his Edo correspondent Bakin, and further distorted by Bakin for epistolary effect? 61. For a catalog of frauds and impostors, see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), pp. 36-37. 62. Yoda Gakkai, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji hyo," p. 446; Maeda Ai, "Meicho zenshu to watakushi," p. viii. Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, p. 244, remarks that many readers came to assume that Mitsuuji was the central character in Genji monogatari itself. 63. Mizutani Futo, ''RyUtei Tanehiko," p. 302. 64. Ryutei, NMIG, II, 699. 65. Tamausagi passage quoted as an appendix to Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, p. 306. The allusion to Tanehiko's "latest installment" of Kantan shokoku monogatari suggests a date for the passage between 1835-1841, inclusively. On the novelty of female hairdressers (onna-kamiyut), see the disapproving edict of 1795 reproduced in Yamazaki Yoshishige, Kairoku, p. 191 (segment VII:7). 66. Mizutani Yumihiko, ''Ryutei Tanehiko," p. 302, and Sekine Masanao, pt. 1, 70. 67. Reproduced in Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, p. 162, plate #178. The creator of the game is the well-known poster designer and commercial artist Baiso Gengyo (1817-1880); the artist is Toyokuni III/Kunisada II (1823-1880), Kunisada's son-in-law.

244

Notes to Pages 151-155

68. For a general discussion of early Genji·e, see Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 81-83. An excellent inventory of major nineteenth-century examples appears on pp. 178-184 of this same source. 69. Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 45. 70. Yoda Gakkai, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji hyo," p. 446. 71. SaitO Gesshin, [Zotei] Buko nenpyo, II, 93 (Tenpo 10). See also Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, p. 178; reproduction of prints modeled on this votary plaque on p. 69 of the same source, plates #72 and 73. 72. The earliest examples of Genji-e inspired directly from Kunisada's work in Jnaka Genji may date from 1833 or 1834; discussion of origins in Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 121-122. 73. Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 123 and 184. 74. Quoted in Edo bungaku chimei jiten, "Jodoji" (Ichikawa lchiro), 1973 ed. 75. From integral transcription in Ozaki Kyuya, ''Hogai Dojin-cho no Edo meibutsu shi," p. 236. 76. As quoted in Mizuno Minoru, ''Kusazoshi to sono dokusha," p. 110. The quotation is from the 2nd chapter of Shunshoku koi no shiranami (Spring voluptuousness brigands of love), published in 1841. 77. Kimura Mokuro, Kokuji shosetsu tstl, pp. 251-252. "Mountain paper printing'' (yamagami-zuri) is obscure, and may very well be a typesetter's error for joshi-zuri (superior paper impressions)-the deluxe editions for the most affiuent echelons of the kusazoshi market. On prices for kusazoshi, see note 51 to this chapter. 78. Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 45. 79. The term kyosai (crazy genius or wild genius) occurs repeatedly in Bakin's unflattering characterizations of Santo Kyoden, where it implies an erratic talent whose startling successes are the results of flukes or happy coincidences, and not the product of disciplined study and ascetic exertion. See, for example, [Kyokutei Bakin], !wade mono ki, p. 190. In Kyokutei shokan sha, p. 50 (letter to TonomuraJosai, dated Tenpo 2:2:21/3 April1831), Bakin remarks that Tanehiko, like the late Kyoden and Sanba, has great quantities of gesaku sai (talent, flair)-a quality in opposition to gakumon (formal learning), which, conversely, is anathema to the successful gokan. The contrast between hard-won learning and erratic sai also occurs in Bakin's discussion of Sanba in [Kinset1 Mononohon Edo sakusha burui, p. 35. 80. Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), pp. 45-46. Onna gokyo (The lady's Five Classics, 1675) is a didactic kanazoshi work; Akashi monogatari (The tale of Akashi, 1681) is in fact a reissue of this same text under a different title. Bakin may have in mind Genji Akashi monogatari (Tale of Akashi [in] Genji, 1686), on which see Imai Takuji, Genji monogatari hihyo shi no kenkya, p. 304. Saru Genji iro no shibai (Monkey Genji theater of lust, 1718) is an ukiyoz(Jshi inspired by the Ejima-lkushima theater scandal of 1714. (For the identification of other titles, see note 30 above.) The subject of "Genroku Genji" was of some interest to Bakin, who mentions in addition a vernacular version of the first 3 chapters of

Notes to Pages 155-161

245

Genji, Shibun ama no saezuri (Muras~ki's work, the "chirping" of the fisherfolk; 1723), on p. 104 of [Kinsez] Mononohon Edo sakusha burui. 81. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshu, p. 50 (letter dated Tenpo 2:2:21). 82. Ibid., p. 62 (letter dated Tenpo 2:4:14). 83. Kyokutei Bakin, ed. Teruoka Yasutaka, Eakin nikki, IT, 344 (entry for Tenpo 2:4:24). 84. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshu shui, pp. 29-32 (letter dated Tenpo 2:4:26/6 June 1831). 85. Bakin does not allow Tanehiko due credit as a draftsman. For examples of Tanehiko's far from inartistic shita·e, or preliminary layout cartoons for his works, see the drawings for Chapters 4 and 8 of Inaka Genji, reproduced in Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," pp. 396-400, and in Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, p. 97. 6. THE WILLOW IN AUWMN

1. Bakin claims that the disciple Bokusentei Yukimaro is a kashin (household vassal) of Takada fief (Echigo); see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 48. On Kikuhiko's identity as a gokenin retainer, see p. 71 of this same source. Bakin identifies the disciple and part-time woodblock engraver Tanemaro with the gokenin Yagi Yakichi on pp. 66 and 71 of this same source. 2. Quoted in Hisamatsu Sen'ichi et al., ed., Nihon bungaku shi (Kinsei}, p. 567. 3. Otowa Sei (pseud. of Ohashi Shintaro), ''K.aidai" preface to Ryatei Tanehiko, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji (Hakubunkan, 1898), pp. i-ii. Tanehiko and Katsu Kokichi (1802-1850), the colorful father of Katsu Kaishu, would seem to be antithetical characters and most unlikely candidates for friendship, if Katsu Kokichi's confessional biography Musui dokugen (Musui's solitary ramblings, 1843) is any guide. Possibly the two shared an interest in joruri performances and street chanters; see Katsu Kokichi, Musui's Story, tr. Teruko Craig, p. 118. 4. Information on Senka primarily from detailed chronology in Ishikawa Ryo, pt. 1, pp. 25-37, and pt. 2, pp. 1-15. The earliest mention of the "manuscript-fee incident" seems to be in 1890; see Sekine Masanao, pt. 2, pp. 76-78. Ihara Seiseien, ''K.ansei irai no shosetsuka no seikaku," p. 110, in 1910 claims the disputed amount was 5 ryo. 5. Lengthy excerpts from the first letter appear in Mizutani Futo, ''Ryfitei Tanehiko," pp. 274-275; a full transcription appears in lchijima Shunjo, pp. 210-218. The second letter is in the archives of the National Diet Library; a partial transcription appears in Sato Satoru, ''K.usazoshi to zekko bungei," p. 100. I am greatly indebted to Mrs. Hamako Chaplin for her assistance in deciphering the obscure passages of this document. A third significant letter, probably from 1832, appears in fragmentary form in Hasegawa Kinjiro, Kaku ya ika ni no ki, pp. 11-12 (segment 15).'

246

Notes to Pages 162-164

6. On the history of Shui hu chuan adaptations, see Aso Isoji, Edo bungaku to Chagoku bungaku, pp. 69-87, 337-346. Particularly important in popularizing the exotic work was Kyoden's Chashin Suikoden, which Bakin also credits as one of the prime factors in the yomihon resurgence of the Bunka period; see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 125. SatO Satoru, "Kana-gaki Suikoden wo megutte," p. 52, suggests that the lingering aura of Kyoden's success played a large part in the original decision of the publishing consortium to seek out Kyozan, his brother, as the author of their newly projected Shui hu chuan in gokan form. 7. On the ubiquitous presence of Shui hu chuan characters, see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 26. Tanehiko alludes to Shui hu chuan themes in a preface of 1826; see Kawazu no uta haru no dote-bushi, p. 837. The strong public interest in the Chinese work at the time of the early chapters of Inaka Genji is obvious from the okuzuke or publisher's prospectus in the back of the 1st fascicle of the 1st chapter of Inaka Genji: Of 7 featured titles, fully 6 include the magical compound Suikoden in their titles. See reproduction in Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, p. 112. The extent of Tanehiko's personal knowledge of Shui hu chuan is unclear. In the pompous Chinese preface contributed by Hakuan Gyokushi to Shimoyo no hoshi in 1807, the senior litterateur asks the young author whether certain points in the manuscript at hand are not in fact modeled after episodes in Shui hu chuan. Tanehiko responds in the affirmative-although the entire passage is ambiguous and difficult to punctuate. See Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 4. 8. Letter passage in Ichijima Shunjo, pp. 212-214. Lin Ch'ung is a major figure in the early chapters of Shui hu chuan prior to the entry of Sung Chiang. In the 120-chapter version of the novel, however, he remains alive and quite active until his death from illness at the very end. His transfer to guard a military fodder depot in Chapter 10 is part of an unsuccessful assassination attempt; see Shih Nai-an and Lo Kuan-chung, Shui hu ch'uan chuan (I), p. 152 ff. This same lOth chapter alludes repeatedly to his hua ch'iang "flowery" or "adorned spear" (e.g. pp. 152, 154, 155). The passage ''His left arm ... " derives from the 13th chapter, in which Yang Chih, a fugitive from the law, competes in a sort of jousting tournament to demonstrate his prowess before a benefactor; see Shui hu ch'ilan chuan (I}, p. 189. I am indebted to Ms. Laura Hess for her kind assistance in locating and interpreting these passages. Tanehiko's advice to Senka on the rendition of individual terms in the base text is certainly one of the more obscure portions of the letter. A possible interpretation is that Tanehiko sees a choice in rendering the compound feng-yu (wind and rain, stormy weather) in two manners: the pedantic character-bycharacter native calque kazeame on the one hand, and, on the other, the erudite on vocalization fau-which in any case will receive the furigana gloss amekaze in the printed text, thus nullifying all such graphic niceties.

Notes to Pages 165-171

247

Utagawa Kuniyoshi illustrated all phases of the work, from Kyozan's initial installments of 1829 and Tanehiko's chapters in 1830-1831 through Senka's and Shotei Kinzui's chapters in 1832-1841 and 1847-1851, respectively. 9. Edo bungaku chimei jiten, s.v. "Suitengu" and ·~rima yashiki" (both Ishikawa Ichiro), 1973 ed. On mob scenes, see the anonymous Edo shayo, pp. 183-184. 10. Indian corn as an amulet in SaitO Gesshin, [Zotet] Buko nenpyo, IT, 56 (summary of Bunka period). On the "lightning-prevention charm" presented by Shiraito and Sugibae in the 2nd chapter (1831) of Inaka Genji, see Ryutei, NMIG, I, 59 (partial translation in Chapter 5). Early leave-taking from a rakugo performance in Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. Asakura Haruhiko, Ryatei Tanehiko nikki, p. 152 (entry for Bunka 13:8:10/1 September 1816). See also mention of the fear of thunder in Ryutei Tanehiko, [Kinsei kaidan] Shimoyo no hoshi, p. 12. 11. Ryutei Tanehiko, 0-atsuraezome Toyama-ganoko, pp. 513-514. Here Tanehiko whimsically attributes his indisposition to bolting down half-chewed, excessive portions of Shui hu chuan and Inaka Genji. Sato Satoru, "Kana-gaki Suikoden wo megutte," p. 54, posits that this health crisis was the primary reason for the delegation of responsibility for Kana-gaki Suikoden to Senka. 12. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshll, p. 50 (letter dated Tenpo 2:2:21/3 April 1831). 13. In fact, two fires in rapid succession might have damaged the Senkakudo and its holdings: the first in April1829, the second ten months later, in February 1830. On the former fire, see Saito Gesshin, [Zotet] Buko nenpyo, IT, 78-79 (Bunsei 12), and Kyokutei Bakin, ed. Teruoka Yasutaka, Eakin nikki, IT, 78-79 (entry for Bunsei 12:3:21/24 April 1829), for origins and likely extent of the disaster. On the second fire, of Bunsei 13:1:19/12 February 1830, see Suzuki Juzo, ''K.aidai" explanatory pamphlet to Ryutei Tanehiko, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji: daishi-hen (facsimile edition of Chapter 4), p. 23. See also Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshll shai, p. 20 (letter to Tonomura Josai, dated Tenpo 1:1:28/21 February 1830), and the observations on fire damage to the individual printing blocks of Inaka Genji in Saw Satoru, ''Ryutei Tanehiko kusazoshi shomoku ko," p. 83. 14. For the text of this fussy edict against flower arranging, hanafuda (flower cards), and female joruri performances, see SatO Satoru, ''K.usazoshi to zekko bungei," p. 99. Persecution of female joruri performers at the time of the Tenpo Reform in SaitO Gesshin, [Zatei] Buko nenpyo, IT, 97 (Tenpo 13) and IT, 102 (Tenpo 14). The Fujiokaya nikki devotes several long entries to the repression-a treatment far more detailed than it accords any of the literary persecutions of the Tenpo Reform. See Sudo Yoshizo, p. 265 (entry for Tenpo 12:10:27/9 December 1841, on arrests), and pp. 270-274 (entry for Tenpo 12:11:27/8 January 1842; long inventory of those arrested, and satirical lampoons). On the unabated cult of female gidayll chanters in Meiji times, see Edward Seidensticker, Low City, High City, p. 163. 15. On pilgrimage surge, see Miyamoto Tsuneichi, Ise sangll, pp. 196-205; and

248

Notes to Pages 171-174

Kitamura Nobuyo, pp. 181-182 (Tenpo 1). On identities of Senryu IV and V, see Hamada Giichiro, Senryn; kyoka, p. 250. 16. From 1819 preface to Ryutei Tanehiko, Nanshoku ume no hayazaki (1820), p. 781. 17. Ryutei, NMIG, I, 741. Among the more important literary allusions, "only such as one might reach in crawling'' (haiwataru hodo naredo) derives from the "Suma'' chapter of Genji; see Chapter 2, note 7. "The mountains of his past" (kana koshi kata no yama wa kasumi haruka nite) also occurs in the "Suma'' chapter, immediately after Genji's arrival at his residence in exile; see Murasaki Shikibu, ed. Yamagishi Tokuhei, Genji monogatari (II), p. 30; English version, Seidensticker, p. 230. "Spread your horns apart, snail" (Tsuno furiwake yo, katatsuburi) closely echoes a Basho verse from the second book of Sarumino (Monkey's raincoat, 1691); see Matsuo Basho, ed. Nakamura Shunjo, Basho shichibusha, p. 186. (The prose preface to this Basho verse also alludes to the Genji phrase haiwataru hodo.) 18. Edo bungaku chimei jiten, s.v. "Kinryuji" and ''Kayadera'' (both Kasuya Hiroki). On the stele erected by Toda Mosui, in remembrance of the premature death of his only son in 1682, see Saito Yukio et al., Edo meisho zue (III), 444 and 450. Discussion of the precise location of the Ganjiro and a reconstructed map of the vicinity appear in Hayashi Yoshikazu, "Ryutei Tanehiko no Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho," pp. 168-170. 19. Ryutei, NMIG, I, 781. 20. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokansha, p. 185 (letter from 6th month of Tenpo 13/July-August 1842, probably intended for Tonomura Josai and Ozu Keiso). 21. Ryutei, NMIG, II, 290. 22. Ryutei Tanehiko, Enmusubi gekka no kiku, p. 2a; and Ryutei Tanehiko, Takao nendaiki, p. 2a (hanrei introductory remarks). 23. See tables of "consumer price indices" in Kozo Yamamura, A Study of Samurai Income and Entrepreneurship, pp. 54-60. 24. Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 154-161, and his ''Ryiitei Tanehiko no Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho," pp. 136-137. 25. On informal patronage extended to Kanagaki Robun (1829-1894) and other Meiji period authors of gesaku, see N ozaki Sabun, Watakushi no mita Meiji bundan, pp. 132-134. See also Senka's anecdote about Tanehikds complying with a request for an inscription on a cheap fan, quoted from Yoshinashigoto in Ikari Akira, Rytltei Tanehiko, pp. 39-40. No reimbursement is recorded, but some form of remuneration was probable. 26. Bakin's diary entry for the day is rather skeletal, and shows every sign of exhaustion; see Kyokutei Bakin, ed. Teruoka Yasutaka, Eakin nikki, IY, 293-294 (entry for Tenpo 7:8:14/24 September 1836). Far richer is the account in a letter to Tonomura Josai several months later; see Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokansha shai, pp. 78-83 (letter dated Tenpo 7:10:26/4 December 1836). An excellent

Notes to Pages 174-178

249

paraphrase of the description is available in Zolbrod, pp. 121-123. 27. Terakado Seiken, I, 96-109. 28. Kyokutei Bakin, "Suzuki Bokushi ni atOru fumi," p. 383 (letter dated Bunsei 1:10:28/26 November 1818). 29. On meals, guests, see Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokansha shai, pp. 78-83 (letter dated Tenpo 7:10:26/4 December 1836) to Tonomura Josai. The enumeration of gesaku authors (p. 81) is far from the beginning of the list of guests of honor, and takes a subordinate place to listings of masters of kyoka comic verse and hikko text copyists. Tanehiko heads the list of gesaku authors, however. Following him are Utei Enba II (1792-1862), Bokusentei Yukimaro (1797-1856), Bokusentei Umemaro (fl. 1830), Tori Sanjin (1790-1858), and, finally, Tamenaga Shunsui (1790-1848). Santo Kyozan, ever mindful of Bakin's ingratitutde to his brother Kyoden, declined the invitation to attend. 30. On the boys' dance, see Saito Gesshin, [Zotei] Buko nenpyo, II, 91 (Tenpo 7); Jinsaio, Kogai zeisetsu, pp. 252-254; and Terakado Seiken, III, 285-286. 31. Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Tanehiko to kohon Inaka Genji," pp. 434-435. 32. Ryutei, NMIG, II, 78-79. This passage seems closest in intent to the version Yamaguchi cites in "Tanehiko to kohon Inaka Genjt''-a preliminary manuscript version, apparently, and at variance with the final printed version. 33. Ryutei, NMIG, II, 86-87. The Genji poem appears in Murasaki Shikibu, ed. Yamaguchi Takeshi, Genji monogatari (II), p. 153; English version, Seidensticker, p. 298. 34. The illustration, from Soga mukashi kyogen, is reproduced in Mizutani FutO, Kusazoshi to yomihon no kenkya, p. 393. On further likenesses, see Mukai Nobuo, "Tanehiko no asobi," pp. i-ii. 35. Kimura Mokuro, ed. Yumani Shobo, Gesakusha ko hoi, facing p. 244. A reproduction appears in the photographic frontispieces to Ikari Akira, Ryatei Tanehiko. A woodcut version appears in Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 401, and in Mizutani Futo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko," facing p. 268. (See frontispiece reproduction.) 36. Mizutani FutO, "Ryutei Tanehiko," p. 272. 37. The ensuing discussion is primarily a compression cf Dohi Noritaka, Kaikaku no kyozlJ, pp. 160-199; Yoshihara Ken'ichi, pp. 58-83; and George Sansom, A History of japan, 1615-1867, pp. 207-242. 38. Yamamura Kozo, pp. 52 and 55, for annual price fluctuations of rice and staples. 39. Kitamura Kojo, p. 102. The work was composed by Kitamura Kojo (1805-1876) while besieged at Otsuka, in August or September 1868. 40. On Hakkenden sales, see Zolbrod, p. 109; on vigorous theater attendance, see Yoshihara Ken'ichi, p. 70, and Kyokutei Bakin, Bakin shokansha, p. 260 (letter #50, addressed to Ozu Keiso, dated Tenpo 6:3:28/25 April 1835). 41. Situation in 1787 in SaitO Gesshin, [Zotet] Buko nenpyo, I, 219 (Tenmei 7). On dole in Edo, Kitamura Kojo, p. 102.

250

Notes to Pages 179-185

42. Background, course of uprising in Dohi Noritaka, pp. 177-180; Yoshihara Ken'ichi, p. 71; and Ivan Morris, The Nobility of Failure, pp. 180-216. 43. lenari's profligacy in Ikari Akira, Ryutei Tanehiko, pp. 305-306, and in Inagaki Shisei, pp. 520-521. On sugar consumption, see Kitamura Kojo, pp. 89-90. 44. On sumptuary legislation, see Ikari Akira, RyUtei Tanehiko, p. 322, and Yoshihara Ken'ichi, p. 75. A contempoary record of the oppressively fussy edicts is Sudo Yoshizo, pp. 264-265 (entry for Tenpo 12:10:25/7 December 1841). Page 284 of the same source (entry for Tenpo 13:2:14/25 March 1842) describes the forced closing of all but a handful of the 213 yose vaudeville halls currently in operation in Edo. "Improving" categories of presentation, i.e. public recitations of ShintO doctrine, of Shingaku "Heart Learning," fairy tales, and martial tales, however, were immune from the proscription. 45. On the edicts themselves, see Suwa Haruo, pp. 175-177, and Ikari Akira, "Tenpo kaikaku to Ryatei Tanehiko no hikka," p. 60. On the execution of the edicts, see Maeda Ai, "Tenpo kaikaku ni okeru sakusha to shoshi," pp. 260-262. 46. Kyokutei Bakin, ed. Teruoka Yasutaka, Bakin nikki, IV, 318 (entry for Tenpo 13:6:10/17 July 1842). 47. Consult Yamazaki Fumoto, pp. 117, 202, 464, for publication figures. Another statistical tabulation is Maeda Ai, "Tenpo kaikaku ni okeru sakusha to shoshi," pp. 269-270. Interestingly, a reprint of Tanehikds early yomihon of 1807, Edo murasaki sannin kyodai (Edo purple three brothers), figured among the yomihon issued in 1843-a possible ploy to dupe unwary buyers into thinking they were obtaining a sequel or companion volume to Nise Murasaki inaka Genji? 48. General overview of Shunsui prosecution in Suwa Haruo, pp. 177-178; Maeda Ai, "Tenpo kaikaku ni okeru sakusha to shoshi," pp. 259-260 and 263; and Kyokutei Bakin, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 476. 49. Suwa Haruo, p. 177. 50. Ibid., p. 178. See also Jinbo Kazuya, "Edo kinsho kaidai," p. 216. 51. Bakin letter of Tenpo 13:1:12/21 February 1842 to Tonomura Josai, quoted in Maeda Ai, "Tenpo kaikaku ni okeru sakusha to shoshi," p. 259. 52. Kyokutei Bakin, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 511 (passage dated Tenpo 14:12:23/11 February 1844). Relations between Bakin and Shunsui had been particularly vitriolic since the 1820s, when Bakin accused Shunsui of blatant plagiarism; see Kaiko Sanjin (Kyokutei Bakin), p. 47. 53. On Shunsui's final years and productions, see Maeda Ai, "Tenpo kaikaku ni okeru sakusha to shoshi," pp. 279-281. Shunsui's new line of kyokun e-hon (didactic picture books) suggests his sobriquet Kyokuntei (Pavilion of moral instruction), already in use before the Tenpo Reform; see Kyokutei Bakin, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 511, and Iwamoto Hiroshi and Iwamoto Katwshi, Gesakusha ryakuden, p. 308. 54. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshu, p. 187 (letter of 6th month, Tenpo 13/JulyAugust 1842, probably intended for Tonomura Josai and Ozu Keiso).

Notes to Pages 185-190

251

55. On Seiken's case, see Suwa Haruo, pp. 178-180; Maeda Ai, "Tenpo kaikaku ni okeru sakusha to shoshi," pp. 264 and 274-275; and Kyokutei Bakin, "Chosakudo zakki," pp. 476-477 and 508. 56. Prosecution of Ebizo noted in Kyokutei Bakin, "Chosakudo zakki," pp. 507-508. On the opulent furnishings of Ebizo's private home, see the itemized listing in Sudo Yoshizo, p. 315 (entry for Tenpo 13:6:22/29 July 1842). The same source also mentions that Ebizo was arrested in mid-performance-no doubt to enhance the impact of Tadakuni's own grim public morality play. Iseki Takako (1785-1845), the foremost female diarist of late Edo times, records Ebizo's punishment with evident satisfaction; see Donald Keene, Travelers of a Hundred Ages, p. 380. 57. On Ebizo's tours, to Narita and later more permanently to Osaka, see Kitamura Nobuyo, p. 225 (Tenpo 13). Awards to Danjuro Vill in Kyokutei Bakin, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 513, and SaitO Gesshin, [Zotei] Buko nenpyo, IT, 106 (Koka 2). 58. Hamada Giichiro, "Ryutei Tanehiko no senryu," p. 6; also, Hamada Giichiro, Senryu; kyoka, pp. 25 and 250. 59. As quoted in Suwa Haruo, p. 161. 60. Makino Zenbei, Tokugawa bakufu jidai shoseki ko, p. 158 (modern reprint edition pagination); on 1868 reference to recent reprinting of work, see also Kitamura Kojo, p. 106. 61. This diary is Omoi no mama no nikki hoi (Supplement to the "Thoughts-justas-they-occurred-to-me Diary"); see Ishikawa Ryo, "Shodai Ryutei Senka nenpu ko (I)," p. 36. 62. Yamazaki Fumoto, p. 751; also Iwamoto Hiroshi and Iwamoto KattOshi, Gesakusha ryakuden, p. 311. 63. Quoted in Ishikawa Ryo, "Shodai Rymei Senka nenpu ko (I)," p. 36. 64. Yamazaki Fumoto, ed., p. 784. 65. Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ichi)," p. 512. 66. Ishikawa Ryo, "Shodai Ryutei Senka nenpu ko (I)," p. 33. The full catalog, which weaves 37 distinct titles into a kasen linked-verse sequence, appears in Suzuki J11zo, "Tanehiko shiryo danpen," pp. 4-5. 67. Ishikawa Ryo, "Shodai Ryutei Senka nenpu ko (I)," p. 36. For the postscript itself, see Enomoto Kikaku, p. 95. 68. As quoted in Mori Senzo, ''Ryutei Tanehiko (sono ni)," p. 516. By convention, the 7th month marked the beginning of autumn, though most of this particular lunar month fell during August 1842. On the epithet ''Mokubo," see Chapter 2, note 25. The reference to the "scattering of Mokubo's leaves" echoes the author/willow metaphor central to the deathbed poems, and reconstitutes the elements in the character ryu (willow) contained in broken form in ''Mokubo." A tanzaku or poem-slip inscribed with the ware mo aki poem in what is alleged to be Tanehiko's own fading hand is reproduced in Mizutani FutO, "Inaka Genji," p. 35.

252

Notes to Pages 190-197

69. SaitO Gesshin, [Zotei] Euko nenpyo, II, 99 (Tenpo 13), and Sudo Yoshizo, p. 320 (entry for Tenpo 13:7:19/24 August 1842) begin their version of the first verse

Chiru mono ni/kiwamaru aki no. The sadamaru version, however, appears in most other sources, and on the gravestone inscription. Iwamoto Hiroshi and Iwamoto Kattashi, Gesakusha ryakuden, p. 278, and Iwamoto Sashichi and Darumaya Goichi, Gesaku rokkasen, p. 401, are typical of the majority of early sources, which render the second poem ~re mo akilrokujitcho wolnagori kana. These slight variants, however, do not affect the English translation. For Bakin's negative reaction to the poems, see Kyokutei Bakin, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 509, and Eakin shokanshu, p. 592 (letter #139, addressed to Ozu Keiso, dated Tenpo 14:6:1/28 June 1843). 70. Kyokutei Bakin, ed. Teruoka Yasutaka, Eakin nikk~ rv; 318-319. 71. Ibid., p. 319. 72. As cited in Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji·e, p. 127. The curious imprecision of Bakin's enumeration-if not the result of an error in transcription-may reflect a magisterial lack of concern for such a trivial work. 73. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshu, p. 185; see also Eakin shokanshu, p. 570 (letter #135). 74. Kyokutei Bakin, Kyokutei shokanshu shu~ p. 98. 75. On the custom of offering mulled sake, see SaitO Gesshin, Toto saijiki, II, 262-263. (This compilation of daily observances and festivities around the metropolis first saw publication in 1838.) 76. On the curious practice of nayboen, i.e., naibun (confidential) handling of minor discrepancies in paperwork, as remarked by Dutch observers, see H. and B., ed., Manners and Customs of the Japanese in the Nineteenth Century, pp. 48, 137, 207, and especially 29. An example from an indigenous record is Katsu Kokichi, p. 12. One can only marvel at the contrast between this laissez-faire attitude and the extreme punctilio characterizing all Japanese bureaucratic transactions today. 77. Kyokutei, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 489; date of Nanpds death in Saito Gesshin, [Zatei] Euko nenpyo, II, 71-72 (Bunsei 6). 78. Kyokutei, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 507. 79. Ibid., pp. 506-507. 80. This quotation and the quotation immediately preceding it are from Kitamura Nobuyo, pp. 223-224 (Tenpo 13). The omitted portion of the parenthetical remark, here indicated by an ellipsis, discusses how Tsuruya Kiemon sought to redress the declining fortunes of his firm by publishing Tanehikds innovative Inaka Genji; see Chapter 5, note 3. Kitamura's account tallies closely with Bakin's own impressions of the rise and fall of the Tsuruya. '~t present," Bakin writes his Matsusaka correspondent Tonomura Josai in 1833, "Tanehiko would seem to be supreme in the field of gokan. Although the readership is quite dif-

Notes to Pages 197-200

253

ferent [from the readers of my current yomihon productions], buyers mob the Tsuruya day after day. I hear that the proprietor now crows and revels in the fact that, just when his finances looked bleakest, after a succession of disastrous fires, he was able to recoup his assets, thanks to Inaka Genji." See Kyokutei Bakin, Eakin shokanshn, p. 182 (letter #32, dated Tenpo 4:7:13/27 August 1833). Even the extraordinary success of Tanehiko's work, however, could not compensate for chronic mismanagement: "Tsuruya recently has been in dire financial straits," Bakin remarks six years later to Josai, "and has been reduced to alienating his stock [kabu] and selling his entire inventory of printing blocks; they say he can barely claim his noren shop-curtains to his name-most careless! And painful to me, personally, that this should happen to a firm familiar [to me?] through three successive generations of ownership. Tanehiko, the star author of the firm, has been ill since last year [1838]; word has it that he shuns rice, and subsists exclusively on a diet of buckwheat noodles. What, then, will become of [Inaka] Genji this spring? I have yet to hear a single rumor on this account. Enough: Let us set aside this idle and profitless chatter ... "See ibid., p. 443 (letter #96, dated Tenpo 10:1:3/16 February 1839). 81. Suharaya Mohei, ed., Tenpo bukan, 3:18b. Nagai Goemon also figures in Katsu Kokichi, p. 92. 82. The grave, on the grounds of the Heikazan Jodoji Temple, formerly stood in the Hitotsugi district of Akasaka; in or shortly after 1908, it was moved with the temple to its current location, Ebara 1-1-20, Shinagawa ward. The date 7:19 also appears in the disinterested, near-contemporary chronicle, Fujiokaya nikki; see Sudo Yoshizo, p. 320. 83. Compare the eagerness of interrogating officers to ascertain the exact amounts and sequence of payments made to Kyoden, as recorded in the "verdict" statement; see Suwa Haruo, p. 161. 84. On the unusually torrid summer and autumn, see SaitO Gesshin, [Zotet] Buko nenpyo, IT, 99 (Tenpo 13). I am indebted to Dr. Nakauchi Hiromitsu of Yokohama University for his analysis of Tanehiko's medical history, and his suggestion of a long-term tubercular condition. 85. See, for example, the assertions in Sobokuen Shujin (Hori Sutejiro), [Edo jidat] Gikyoku shosetsu tsilshi, p. 428. 86. See enumeration of gesaku authors of samurai background in Okitsu Kaname, Saigo no Edo gesakusha·tachi, p. 6. The sharebon attributed to Kazan is Tsuzure no nishiki (Patchwork frippery, 1836); the preface to this work is said to be by Kazan's prominent disciple Takano Nagahide/Choei (1804-1850). See Yamazaki Fumoto, pp. 187, 702. 87. See, for example, Katayama Ken, Nenu yo no susabi, p. 181, a miscellany perhaps compiled in the late 1840s, for the prohibition of multiple dwellings. On the excessive opulence of a mansion belonging to the eccentric Osaka brewery heir

254

Notes to Pages 201-207

and gesaku author Akatsuki no Kanenari (1793-1861), and the negative response this magnificence provoked in the Tenpo period, see Naniwa hyakuji dan, ed. Hayakawa Junzaburo, pp. 431-432. 88. As quoted in Jinbo Kazuya, p. 216. 89. Kitagawa Morisada/Kiso, IT, 322. The portions omitted from the quotation here discuss the unusual innovation of paper dyed or printed with crests and used as back covers to fascicles of Inaka Genji-a device later widely imitated by other authors-and the painstaking artwork found in Kunisada's illustrations to the title. 90. Kyokutei, "Chosakudo zakki," p. 522. 91. Suzuki Juzo, ''Kaidai" booklet to accompany Ryutei Tanehiko, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji: dai-shi-hen (facsimile edition of Chapter 4), pp. 32-33 and 37. See also the anonymous article in Shomotsuai, the official newsletter for subscribers to the Nihon meicho zenshu series, "Konkai haihon no Inaka Genji no koto," p. 1. It is possible that the year of national austerity following the death of the Taisho Emperor on Christmas Day 1926 compelled an even greater degree of caution on the publishers in bringing out a work of mixed reputation. 92. As quoted in SuzukiJuzo, ''Kaidai" booklet to accompany Ryutei Tanehiko, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji: dai-shi-hen (facsimile edition of Chapter 4), pp. 11-12. 93. Uesato Shunsei, Edo shoseki-sho shi, p. 126. 94. From letter to Ozu Keiso dated Tenpo 6:9:16/6 November 1835; quoted in Sato Satoru, "Tanehiko no shi >Ya jisatsu ka," p. 79; full text in Kyokutei Bakin, Eakin shokanshu, pp. 296-297 (letter #57). 95. Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 132-154. A descriptive catalog of some 20 Genji-theme enpon works appears on pp. 163-177. 96. This quotation and above from Otowa Sei (pseud. for Ohashi Shintaro), pp. i-ii. 97. Mitamura Engyo, "Fukushd' appendix to Ryutei Tanehiko, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji, pp. iv-v. 98. Ibid., pp. v-vi. 99. Ibid., pp. ii-xiii, on possible but improbable parallel contemporary events. 100. Discussion of this title in Mitamura Engyo, "Inaka Genji no sakusha," pp. 214-215; Hayashi Yoshikazu, Genji-e, pp. 125-132; and full article, by Hayashi Yoshikazu, "Ryutei Tanehiko no Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho," pp. 133-171. Alone of all works by or attributed to Tanehiko, curiously, Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho boasts a fully annotated edition, with modern-language parallel text; see Ryutei Tanehiko, ed. and tr. Irie Tomohide, Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho, in Shunjo gidan mizuage-cho; Ikuyo monogatari (Nichirinkaku, 1975), pp. 17-143. 101. This scenario appears in Miyatake Gaikotsu, Hikka shi, pp. 142-143. 102. 1928 opinion in Yamaguchi Takeshi, ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," pp. 405-407; 1930 opinion of death before second summons in Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Ryutei Tanehiko no omoide," p. 513; Engyds opinion that second summons was a command for self-destruction in Mitamura Engyo, Edo buke jiten, pp. 328-329.

Notes to Pages 208-209

255

103. On the liquidation of the Senkakudo and distribution of remaining assets in 1852, see Maeda Ai, "Tenpo kaikaku ni okeru sakusha to shoshi," p. 268. A less reliable source, but nearly contemporary, is Sudo Yoshizo, p. 442 (entry for Koka 1, 4th month/May-June 1844), which asserts that Inaka Genji and the Shohon-jitate series are both banned, and that the Senkakudo has collapsed as a consequence in 1844. The reliability of the reference is questionable, however, since the same source in an entry for Tenpo 13:10:13/15 November 1842 speaks of official reprimands against ''Ryutei Tanehiko, the author of /naka Genji; Tamenaga Shunsui, the author of Shosetsu inaka Genji; and the ninjobon author Nansensho Somahito If'- mistakenly assuming that there are two different versions of Inaka Genji while erroneously supposing Shunsui and Nansensho Somahito II to be two distinct individuals. See ''Fujiokaya nikki," p. 328. 104. Among the lavish late Edo and early Meiji serial gokan bestsellers partially inspired by the success of /naka Genji figure Jiraiya goketsu monogatari (Tale of Jiraiya the hero, 1839-1868?), Shiranui monogatari (The tale of Shiranui, 1849-1883?), [Hokusetsu bidan]Jidai kagami (Uplifting tale of northern snows: Mirror of the ages; 1855-1883), and most notably, Mantei Oga's (1818-1890) enormously lengthy Shaka basso lamato bunko (The eight phases of Shakyamuni's life, in Japanese edition; 1845-1869?), whose early illustrations and characterizations especially show unmistakable overtones of /naka Genji. On ''classicizing" gokan based on the native canon, see Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 66-70, and his "Gokan-mono no kenkyu," p. 382. 105. The primary sequel, based partially on Tanehiko's own manuscripts and his drafts for subsequent chapters, is Sono yukari hina no omokage (Its fate the likenesses of rustic youth, 1847-1864), begun by Ippitsuan Kako/Keisai Eisen (1790-1848), and concluded by Ryukatei Tanekazu and Ryutei Senka; like Inaka Genji, it was illustrated by Kunisada and published by the Senkakudo. On Sono yukari and other gokan sequels, see Yamaguchi Takeshi, "Nise Murasaki inaka Genji ni tsuite," pp. 412-416, and his "Tanehiko to kohon /naka Genji," pp. 419-428. The rival sequel, Ashikaga-ginu tezome no murasaki (Ashikaga silk, hand-dyed purple; 1850-1861), was initially by Ryurei Senka and later became the product of Shotei Kinzui {1794-1862). The uninspiring squabbles among publishers of rival sequels in the 1850s appear in some detail in Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 245-250; Nihon bungaku daijiten s.v. ''Nise Murasaki inaka Genjt'' (Yamaguchi Takeshi); and in Maeda Ai, "Tenpo kaikaku ni okeru sakusha to shoshi," pp. 267-268. Muromachi Genji kocho no maki, first published in 1864, is discussed in Ishida Motosue, Kusazoshi no iroiro, pp. 249-250. 106. Discussion of Takabatake Ransen/Ryutei Tanehiko III in Okitsu Kaname, Tenkan-ki no bungaku, pp. 229-259. See also earlier references in Suzuki Gyozo, "Takabatake Ransen no koto," pp. 16-17, and anecdotal material in Nozaki Sabun, pp. 128-130 and 228-234.

256

Notes to Pages 209-211

107. Enumeration of Meiji and subsequent editions of Inaka Genji in Suzuki Juzo, "Kaidai" booklet to accompany Ryntei Tanehiko, Nise Murasaki inaka Genji: dai-shi-hen (facsimile edition of Chapter 4), pp. 29-39. 108. See chogen (exordium) in Tsubouchi Shoyo, ed. Nakamura Kan, "Shosetsu shinzui," p. 40. English version appears in Donald Keene, Dawn to the "West, I, 100. On the "kusazoshi style," one variant of the "elegant and common compromise style" (ga-zoku setchfl buntat) favored for a modern novelistic idiom, see Tsubouchi Shoyo, pp. 123-124. Shoyo illustrates his remarks with a quotation from Chapter 4 of Inaka Genji (Muraogi's conversation with the maid Nasuno; I, 134-135, in Nihon meicho zenshu edition), and from another Ryntei work (possibly Kantan shokoku monogatari?). 109. Harunoya Shujin (Tsubouchi Shoyo), ''Ryntei Tanehiko no hyoban," Chao gakujutsu zasshi 34:43-51 (10 August 1886) and 39:29-31 (25 October 1886). I am grateful to Mr. Saw Satoru for bringing this article to my attention, and assisting me to obtain a reference copy. 110. Harunoya Shujin, ''Ryntei Tanehiko no hyoban (I)," p. 43. 111. On Kyoka's early reading and admiration for Tanehiko, see his "[Danwa] Iroatsukai" (1901), pp. 653-660, especially p. 659. Other significant references to Tanehiko's works appear in "Kana jizai" (1906) and in "Kana-gaki Suikoden" (1905), pp. 382-387 and 349-357, respectively. 112. See Nagai Sokichi/Kafu, "Chiru yanagi mado no ynbae," pp. 5-59. Discussion and translated excerpts from this work appear in Edward Seidensticker, Kaftl the Scribbler, pp. 58-61. A much shorter preliminary version of the piece, Gesakusha no shi (A gesaku author's death), appeared in 1913; greatly expanded, the work appeared under its new title and accompanied by companion pieces in 1914. Transcription of this preliminary version in Vol. VI of Kaftl zenshfl (Iwanami Shoten, 1962), pp. 416-423. 113. Nagai Sokichi/Kafu, "Chiru yanagi mado no yubae," p. 34. 114. Harunoya Shujin, ''Ryntei Tanehiko no hyoban (TI)," p. 29.

Bibliography All sources cited in the chapter notes, regardless of original language of publication, appear in the consolidated listing below. Primary classification is by author or editor, or by title for anonymous works, works of uncertain ascription, and items best known by title; secondary classification is by title. Subordinate words or phrases prefixed to main titles (e.g. shinpan, zotei, Kinsei kaidan) do not affect the classification. In the absence of any indication to the contrary, all Japanese-language publications originate in EdoJTokyo.

The Actors' Analects [Yakusha rongo] f~1!Hiffi~]%. Tr. and ed. Charles J. Dunn and Bunzo Torigoe. New York, Columbia University Press, 1967. Aeba Koson ~JMi!;j:;J". "Bunka Bunsei-do no shosetsuka" X:ft)CiEJ()jtO) /j' ~#.~(Novelists of the Bunka and Bunsei periods), Shikai ~ i4Ji: 13: 42-51 (1892), and 14: 35-44 (1892). Asakura Haruhiko ¥J:It.tri/~. "Kaidai" fg~JH! (Afterword), Ryiitei Tanehiko nikki ;fPD~l~~ 8 ~c (The Ryiitei Tanehiko diaries), pp. 169-177. Ed. Asakura Haruhiko. Akiyama Shoten, 1979. - - . "Ryiitei Tanehiko kyiizo-hon kanken" WD~~~ 1Biililt*1i 5t (A personal survey of items formerly in the library of Ryiitei Tanehiko), Nihon kosho tsiishin 8 *J'Sr!tJm.f§ 23.8 (no. 349): 8-9 (15 August 1958). Aso Isoji Jff1:.JiJ;§(. Edo bungaku to Cht7goku bungaku ii?X:2f. J:j:lffii)C2f. (Literature of the Edo period and Chinese literature). Sanseido, 1946.

c

Brandon, James R. "Form in Kabuki Acting," Studies in Kabuki, pp. 63-132. Ed. James R. Brandon. Honolulu, University Press of Hawaii, 1978. Bynner, Witter, tr. The Jade Mountain: A Chinese Anthology [T' ang shih san pai shou] Jl!fi%'.:=.s§. Garden City, Doubleday, 1964; reprint of1929 edition. Chikamatsu Monzaemon 3l[ 1~ F5 E: fri;j F5. Chikamatsu kabuki kyogen shii 3l[ 1~ l:fli:~f~~f. j3 ~ (Collected kabuki dramas of Chikamatsu). Ed. Takano Tatsuyuki i\1lj !llf HZ z. 2 vols. Rinsen Shoten, 1973; reprint of 1927 edition.

258

Bibliography

Dohi Noritaka ±Hf3iii:~. Kaikaku no fryozo c)ClJO)m1~ (The figment of "reform"). Shiiei Shuppan, 1977. Dore, R[onald] P. Education in Tokugawa Japan. London, Athlone Press, and Ann Arbor, Center for Japanese Studies, University of Michigan, 1984; reprint of 1965 edition.

Edo bungaku chimei jiten ~I p X:'*- :f:-1!!. ~~'¥:Jill.. (A dictionary of place names occurring in Edo literature). Ed. Hamada Giichir6 ?~ffi~-!1~. T6ky6d6 Shuppan, 1973. Edo shi?Jif ~I?t\%~ (Gleaning the leaves of Edo). Reprinted in Mikan zuihitsu lryakushu series, II, 1-190. Ed. Mitamura Engyo. 23 vols. Rinsen Shoten, 1969; reprint of 1927 edition. Engeki lryakka daijiten ?~m;tlsf-+*$:J!ll.. (Great encyclopedia of the theater). Ed. Waseda Daigaku Tsubouchi Hakase Kinen Engeki Hakubutsukan !f.;fffiffi*'*-:l:fPH:f.±~c~?~m;tlt:f.!f'l,l]j'@,". 6 vols. Heibonsha, 1963. Enomoto Kikaku ;fJ 7.js: ;It jEj. Yoshiwara Gef?}i gojiishi-kun Jjj{i)J .!3(; 1i. 129 ~ (Fifty-four courtesans of a Yoshiwara Genji). 1687. Reprinted in Zoku Ensekijisshu II, 70-95. Ed. Ichijima Kenkichi. 2 vols. Kokusho Kankokai, 1909.

a

+

Fukuzawa Yukichi 1i~JU!fua. The Autobiograplry of Yukichi Fukuzawa [Fukuif jiden] 1M %lJ § {:~. Tr. Eiichi Kiyooka. New York, Schocken Books, 1966; reprint of 1960 edition. - - . Fukuif jiden fi%li §{:L; (Autobiography of Old Man Fukuzawa). Ed. Konno Washichi ffi!llf;fO-t. Kadokawa Shoten, 1975. Gunji Masakatsu

~ P.] IE H~.

"Ryiitei Tanehiko no zuihitsu to sh6setsu" (Ryiitei Tanehiko's zuihitsu miscellanies and his novels), Nihon zuihitsu taisei furoku 2.20: 1-3 (October 1974). f~P~f.i~ 0) ll)1[~

c ;J~~#.

H. and B. [Harper and Brothers?], ed. Manners and Customs of the Japanese in the Nineteenth Century. Rutland, Charles E. Tuttle, 1973; reprint of 1841 edition. Hakubunkan Henshii-kyoku t:f.X:jUJTii~,F.ij, ed. [Kiftei] Kanti:tn shokoku monogatari .f3aT · itBll!~Millil!fm~l% ([Revised and corrected] Han-tan tales of the various provinces), by Ryiitei Tanehiko and Ryiitei Senka. Zoku Teikoku bunko series, XXIII. Hakubunkan, 1900. Hall, John Whitney. Tanuma Okitsugu, 1719-1788: Forerunner of Modern Japan. Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1955. Hamada Giichir6 ?~ffi~-!1~. "Ryiitei Tanehiko no senryii" ;f9P~f.i~O) Jll;fPP (Senryii verses of Ryiitei Tanehiko), Bungaku 38: 1-9 (March 1968). - - . Senryii; kyifka Jll;fgp • 3.I¥.JJ( (Senryii and kyifka poetry). Kyoikusha, 1977.

Bibliography

259

Hamada Keisuke 7~ EB i@:1r. "Bakin ni okeru shoshi, sakusha, dolusha no mondai" .~~ t::lj~ lt 0 1!=~, {'F:tf, Mt:tf 0) r"'~£§ (The question of booksellers, authors, and readers in relation to the works ofBakin), Bakin .~~' pp. 233-246. Ed. Nihon Bungaku Kenkyii Shiryo Kankokai. Nihon bungaku kenkyii shiryo sosho third series, IX. Yiiseido, 1974; reprint of 1953 article. 0) -'(='.±.A (pseud. for Tsubouchi Shoyo ;!:Sf li'l ~ ;ii). Harunoya Shujin "Ryiitei Tanehiko no hyoban" ~#P .r :f.l~ 0) ~lJl.~tl (The reputation of R yiitei Tanehiko), Chiio gakujutsu zasshi if'~"i-{ifrr~!Ht; 34: 43-51 (August 1886) and 39: 29-31 (October 1886). Hasegawa Kinjiro *~JIJ'ilt;j(J!l~. Kakuya ika nino ki iJ' g-. "Kakuya ika nino kino shiihen" II iJ' ~ P iJ' t: 0) ~C.!! 0) ffl.l 321 (The circumstances surrounding Kaku ya ika ni no ki), Kokugo to kokubungaku 61.6: 41-54 (June 1984). - - . "Kana-gaki Suikoden wo megutte" 1100¥7J