Paper short abstract:

This presentation traces the development of the word “furusato” in Heian poetic language and explores the sexual politics that played out in its gendered spaces, through the unifying notion of a “presence of absence.”

Paper long abstract:

In the poetic language of the Heian period, the multiple meanings of “furusato” differ markedly from its use in modern Japanese. From its purported original meaning of “old village,” the word came to implicate the old capital and, later, the residences of women. After the capital was relocated to Heian, and in a society where duolocal marriage (tsumadoikon) was prevalent, courtiers compelled to move to the new capital would sometimes have to leave their wives or lovers behind in the old capital, the “furusato.” In Heian, the poetic associations of the old capital—bleak, countrified, abandoned—were evoked whenever women’s homes were called “furusato,” as they experienced a similar kind of abandonment by courtiers in the wake of the lover’s departure. The Tales of Ise and other Heian literary works helped consolidate this parallel between the deserted, countrified environment of the “furusato” and women’s homes as the backdrop for the courtly (miyabi) pursuit of erotic thrills (irogonomi). The pervasive literary figure of the neglected woman, languishing in her ramshackle house—the pinnacle of erotic conquest for the amorous courtier—also emerges amidst this development. The dilapidated “furusato” is not always portrayed as a site of successful sexual conquest, however; frequently, the word is invoked after stifled attempts at romantic interaction. For example, the unnamed female poet of Gosenshū poem 1006 rebuffs the greeting of a former lover who neglected her for years, cynically comparing her own residence to a crumbling, forgotten “furusato:” “wasurarete toshi furusato no hototogisu nani ni hitokoe nakite yukuran [Why would the cuckoo pass by this old, forgotten village uttering but a single cry?]” Notably, while male poets often imbued their poems on “furusato” with longing and regret, women tended to avail themselves of the word’s sardonic, self-deprecating connotations.

This presentation maps the sexual politics that played out in these gendered spaces onto the emergent poetic associations of the word “furusato” in Heian poetic language. I will argue that, in all its significations, the cohesive notion underlying the poetic associations of “furusato” is the presence of absence; that is, the (often gendered) absence of someone who was once present.