Thursday, April 16, 2015

Cherry Blossoms and Memories



In Cincinnati with warm weather and under spectacular blue skies, the cherry blossoms graced our parks and hillsides this past weekend.  The Japan America Society of Greater Cincinnati held an Ohanami, Cherry Blossom Festival, in the grove of cherry trees in Ault Park.  We’ve never been in Japan for April, but our home stay students have sent us many photos of their Ohanami parties.  Here it looked just the same - families gathered under the trees with their picnic baskets on gaily colored blankets.  Children played as parents visited one group of friends after another.  It was a lovely afternoon.

This post connects again to the Masterpieces of Japanese Art exhibit at the Cincinnati Art Museum.  Two artworks were donated by Etsu Inagaki Sugimoto.  Ms. Sugimoto wrote A Daughter of the Samurai and my husband found a 1934 edition of the autobiography for me.  It’s a fascinating book, as Etsu was born in 1874 and lived in Echigo, a province far from the Western influences flooding Japan at that time.  Reading about her childhood, I’m gathering more research for my Tokaidō stories.

Through an arranged marriage, Etsu arrived here in Cincinnati in 1898.  Her new husband managed a store that sold Japanese goods.  My mother was quite proud that the Sugimotos had lived in our neighborhood, College Hill, until Mr. Sugimoto died and Etsu went back to Japan with their two daughters.  She eventually returned to America so that her daughters could complete their education here.  Etsu taught Japanese literature and history at Columbia University while also writing novels and newspaper stories.  She died in 1950.

The cover of my copy of A Daughter of the Samurai is a delicate watercolor of an old cherry blossom tradition inspired by Etsu’s introduction. 

“Our cherry blossoms never wither.  They fall while still fresh and fragrant.  Because of this, centuries ago the cherry blossom was chosen as the symbol of samurai spirit – willing to die while young and vigorous, rather than to live and fade.  The uniforms of both Army and Navy have a conventional cherry blossom on the badge.

In the spring-time, a favorite game of Japanese girls is to gather the fragrant petals and weave them into chains; and the little girl on the cover, in trying to make a frail, floral chain with the fallen petals, is emblematic of little Etsu-bo who gathered fragments of samurai spirit and wove them into a tale for the readers of today.

It was a daring thing for her to do, but in these later years, the petals of samurai memories are falling fast and the twilight is gathering. It ached me that they should be lost forever in the darkness of the past.”

Thank you, Etsu Inagaki Sugimoto, for shining your light on the samurai spirit while helping us understand the life of a samurai girl who became a modern woman.

Thursday, February 26, 2015

An Imperial Court Poetess

Ono no Komachi by Kano Tan'yu, 1648

Ono no Komachi by Yoshitoshi Tsukioka, 1886

Masterpieces of Japanese Art opened at the Cincinnati Art Museum this month.  It’s a fabulous exhibit with over 100 artworks from the tenth to the twentieth centuries, including hanging scrolls, folding screens, ceramics, metal works, armor and a spectacular Friendship Doll.

On March 18 Dr. Gergana Ivanova and I will present a program at the museum, Art and Japanese Court Life.  We’ll illustrate our talk with the fifteen artworks from the exhibit that are based on the imperial court life of the Heian Period (794-1185).  Courtiers were expected to be excellent poets.

Translations from a foreign language are always a challenge.  One poem of Ono no Komachi (843-880) is a perfect example.  She was renowned for her beauty and is counted as one of the “Six Great Poets,” the only woman among them.  Below I quote from Hokusai One Hundred Poets (Hokusai created prints to illustrate the great poets) by Peter Morse, George Braziller, Inc. Publishers, 1989.

Color of the flower                             Hana no iro wa
Has already passed away                Utsuri ni keri ni
While on trivial things                         Itazawa ni
Vainly I have set my gaze,                 Waga mi yo ni furu
In my journey in the world.                  Nagame seshi ma ni
Ono no Komachi                                 (translated by MacCauley 1917)

“This is among the most famous poems of all times.  A great deal of its meaning comes from wordplay, which renders it difficult to translate.  No fewer than thirty-six English translations have been found. (Below are two of those thirty-six from the book’s appendix.)  This totals perhaps more different translations of a text from another language into English than any work except the Bible.  It provides poetry lovers with an unparalleled chance to understand a poem better by seeing it through different eyes.”

“The poet sets her scene in early summer, the time of rains.  Iro means not only “color,” as in flowers, but also a woman’s facial beauty.  Furu means “passing through,” but also “to fall” or “to grow old.”  Nagame means “to gaze for a long time” but also “long rains.”  This whole poem is an intricate comparison of fading flowers’ color in the rains and the poet’s sense of her own fading beauty in old age.”  Another translator, Noguchi, suggests a lament for a lost love.  Ono no Komachi continues to be a frequent subject for Japanese artists.

The flowers and my love                         As the constant rain
Passed away under the rain,                  Fades the color of the cherry blossoms
While I idly looked upon them;                I reflect time’s beating
Where is my yester-love?                       On my beauty.
                  Noguchi (1914)                                   Myerscough (1984)

For more information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ono_no_Komachi

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Selected Japanese Poems


While compiling the research for my Tokaidō stories, I’ve developed a deep appreciation and love of Japanese poetry.  This month I finished the forty-first of the fifty-seven stories that I’ve planned.  All are historical fiction based on events and politics of 1830s Japan.  Most open with a poem that captures the spirit of the story or the main character.  A few open with lyrics from a popular song, a Shinto prayer or in one case, a speech from a Kabuki play.

For the past week we have been nursing, Yuki, our very sick older cat.  Last night I relaxed in great-grandmother Mary’s rocking chair while Mariko, our younger cat, curled up in my lap for some snuggle time.  My choice of reading?  The Poetry of Zen translated and edited by Sam Hamill and J. P. Seaton.  Let me share with you a few of the poems which brought me comfort.

            How mysterious!
            The lotus remains unstained
by its muddy roots,
delivering shimmering
bright jewels from common dew.
                        Sojo Henjo (816-890)

            I’d like to divide
myself in order to see,
            among these mountains,
            each and every flower
            of every cherry tree.
                        Saigyo (1118-1190)

            Quite the contrary
to what I’d thought, passing clouds
are sometimes simply
the moon’s entertainment,
its lovely decoration.
                        Saigyo (1118-1190)

            Culture’s beginnings:
from the heart of the country
rice-planting songs.
                        Matsuo Basho (1644-1694)

            The distant mountains
are reflected in the eye
of the dragonfly
            Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827)