Paper short abstract:

This paper explores how Nativist scholar Murata Harumi (1746-1811) viewed Sagoromo. He compared the 1654 printing and other texts, adding his own interlinear notes. I argue that he was both aware of the tale's variants and interested in them; indeed, creating a variorum was his goal.

Paper long abstract:

This paper examines how Edo-period Nativist scholar Murata Harumi (1746-1811) researched The Tale of Sagoromo. Kyoto University owns Murata's text of the tale's 1654 printing. It reveals Murata's research into Sagoromo's diverse textual corpus.

Murata's book contains numerous interlinear and marginal notes, written in black or red ink. All of these comments are annotations to the tale, but only some of them are in Murata's handwriting. Why did he annotate the printed text? One reason is surely the special nature of his book. Murata's text also includes notes by the poet-priest Keichu (1640-1701), sometimes considered the founder of Nativist scholarship (kokugaku). Today, Keichu is known for his groundbreaking research on the poetic anthology Manyoshu (ca. 759). Murata's text of Sagoromo bears Keichu's seal. This means that Keichu owned this book first. It also means that Murata, having acquired Keichu's book, decided to add his own thoughts to this century-old book. Keichu's notes probably inspired him to do this.

Murata presumably also added his notes for another reason: his strong interest in Sagoromo's diverse corpus. Some passages of the tale vary wildly across manuscripts. Murata's notes often quote from alternate versions of the tale. He did not collate these texts to create a new manuscript, as did other scholars—including Satomura Joha (1524-1602), whose groundbreaking commentary on the tale was bound with the 1654 printing. Instead, Murata tried to clarify the relationships among several texts of Sagoromo, using comparing them to the 1654 printing. As a way to compare different versions, juxtaposing them like this is extremely effective. Moreover, by placing these competing versions next to the exegesis, Murata made it possible to view all of this material in one place. In short, he created a variorum, which preserves fragments of versions of the tale that are now lost.

Paper short abstract:

The Tale of Sagoromo (ca. 1070) stars a forlorn courtier. Even on the throne, he is gloomy; even his name signals loneliness. Still, the tale's 1654 printing is cheerful; pictures stress the hero's retinue and wealth. The paper ties these tropes to a social change: respect for power, not descent.

Paper long abstract:

The Tale of Sagoromo (Sagoromo monogatari, ca. 1070) stars a forlorn courtier, the commoner-born son of a former prince. With uncles for emperors, his father now chancellor, and his mother a princess, Sagoromo enjoys high status; he is also acclaimed for his good looks and talents. Still, he is gloomy—even when he miraculously takes the throne near the tale's end. Sagoromo loves women he can't have; even his name (from a verse rejecting a marriage) signals loneliness. Still, the tale's 1654 printing is cheerful; its pictures, breaking with earlier illustrations of Sagoromo, stress the hero's large entourage and great wealth. The entourage spans male servants (drawn in greater numbers than described in the narrative) and groups of admiring female attendants, the latter working for women who reject him. Sagoromo's wealth shows in his conveyances: well-staffed boats and carriages, and an imperial palanquin.　

Like its crowds, the 1654 printing's luxe conveyances contradict most extant Sagoromo-themed art: illustrations for the so-called 'Sagoromo stories' (Sagoromo no sо̄shi), a cycle of late medieval and early modern works inspired by one of the original subplots. Like the tale, these stories sparked numerous variants, but the plots do not change much. The stories (prose and pictures) use crowds and conveyances to flatter and create sympathy for the hero. People associated with him ride in 'small' boats (kobune) or walk barefoot. Antagonists ride in 'big' 'Chinese' boats (о̄bune, Morokoshi no fune) or formal carriages—at least until they see their superiors walk. All of the crowds flank Sagoromo and his allies.　

The paper ties these new tropes to a social change: an early modern respect for raw power, which displaced a traditional emphasis on noble descent. While medieval and early modern warriors borrowed aristocratic symbols, they also made their dominance clear. Sagoromo's medieval readers, largely aristocrats, thus identified with the hero's solitude and grieved for their shared weakness over centuries of war. The early modern audience, greatly expanded by print, wanted something else: to celebrate peace and success, in this case tied to effort and (nominally) merit. The 1654 pictures gave them a Sagoromo that fit.

Paper short abstract:

This paper examines the reception of Sagoromo's Asukai subplot by Kenreimonin Ukyo-no-daibu, a late Heian or early Kamakura period poet. Lady Daibu experienced the Gempei War (1180-1185). I consider how she used fiction (Asukai's attempted suicide) to describe suicides linked to the war itself.

Paper long abstract:

Kenreimonin Ukyo-no-daibu was a female poet active from the late Heian to early Kamakura periods. This means that she lived through the Gempei War (1180-1185). In fact, as an attendant of Kenreimonin (Taira no Tokuko, 1155-1213) and someone who socialized with members of the Taira clan, Lady Daibu was arguably a participant. Her poetic memoir takes as its main subject the death of her lover, Taira no Sukemori (1161-1185), who drowned himself at Dan- no-ura—the war's last battlefield.

Since much of the fighting took place on or near the Seto Inland Sea, some of the losers—other members of the Taira clan—drowned themselves like Sukemori. We know from her memoir that Lady Daibu heard about these deaths in the capital. Earlier court tales often feature fictional suicides of this kind. This paper will consider how Lady Daibu responded to these episodes, based on her experience.

When one thinks of fictional suicides by drowning, two examples come to mind: Ukifune, from The Tale of Genji, and Asukai, from The Tale of Sagoromo. We know from her memoir that Lady Daibu was a devoted reader of Genji, but Sagoromo seems to have captured her imagination in this case. Consider the case of Kozaisho, a woman who drowned herself after learning of the death of lover Taira no Michimori (?-1184). Lady Daibu tells the story with language borrowed from Sagoromo: in particular, the phrase "seaweed in the depths" (soko no mokuzu). That expression comes from a poem composed by Asukai, recited just before she tries to drown herself. Since Kozaisho, like Asukai, was pregnant at the time, the pairing probably came naturally. Alternatively, Lady Daibu may have admired Kozaisho's fidelity to her lover, and so deliberately identified her with the popular heroine.

This is not the only description of actual suicides by drowning in the memoir. By comparing these passages and the allusions they contain, I hope to shed light on how Lady Daibu read Sagoromo.