The Diary of Lady Murasaki (Murasaki Shikibu nikki)

Murasaki Shikibu
Translated by Richard Bowring

London: Penguin Books, 1996; Pages: lii, 92

Review © 2001 Branislav L. Slantchev

If it weren't for the fact that the author is the illustrious Murasaki Shikibu, the woman who penned the famous Genji monogatari, this diary would not have enjoyed nearly as much distinction as it does. It is very brief, and, with its principal section taken up by a description of an imperial birth, largely uninteresting to the modern non-specialist reader.

Lady Murasaki (c. 973-c. 1020) lived at the height of the Heian period (794-1192) the period that Sir George Sansom appositely called "The Rule of Taste." The small, highly inbred, aristocracy enjoyed a respite of unprecedented peace, which it used to develop a highly refined, if somewhat rarefied, outlook on life. The defining rule in this outlook was the concept of beauty and especially its intimate relationship to the Buddhist notion of impermanence. To summarize it rudely, "good" was defined by the ability to appreciate beauty (particularly nature) and the skill to convey this appreciation in tasteful poetry. The idea of morality is notable by its absence. Everything that pertained to beauty was thus fetishized: scenery, clothes, poetry, incense, and even daily interaction. (For an excellent introduction to the period, see Ivan Morris' classic monograph The World of the Shining Prince.)

Perhaps the most famous bequest of the Heian era to the world is the collection of literary works written by various court ladies. Although the monumental Genji monogatari is the most celebrated, many others are also of considerable note (especially my favorite, Michitsuna no Haha's Kagero nikki). Written in phonetic script and free of Chinese characters, these works constitute the early definition of native Japanese prose, all the more remarkable that it is almost wholly due to women, a unique occurrence in the world.

Lady Murasaki (real name unknown) came from a minor branch of the ruling Fujiwara family, and entered court service around 1006, having survived a husband and written substantial chunks of her magnum opus. The diary covers events in 1008-10, if only sporadically. It is a mixture of detailed descriptions and penetrating personal observations interspersed with pungent self-analysis. Structurally, the diary is rather disconnected, perhaps due to lacunae of missing text. It may be a misnomer to call the nikki a "diary" for it is not one in the conventional sense. Rather, it is a collection of observations seemingly written for some unknown, but public, purpose.

The major part of the text covers the birth of Prince Atsuhira to Empress Shôshi, an event of utmost importance to the Fujiwara family, for it meant that now Fujiwara Michinaga could become the grandfather of the next emperor (which he did, solidifying his grip on power). This part may have been produced upon request by Michinaga, although this is uncertain. As it is, the narrative, with the exception of the poetic description of the Tsuchimikado mansion, is rather dull, concerning itself with visual depiction of room interiors, rituals, and positioning of the various (multitude) participants and observers. This may hold some interest for researchers but the detail is overwhelming. The series of ceremonial events following the birth are also quite tedious, it is as if the author herself was little involved with them.

The second part comprises astute, and quite caustic, remarks about the Empress, her immediate circle (including many of Murasaki's own acquaintances), and courtiers in general. This is easily the most engaging section, especially because it offers the literary lady's views on her illustrious contemporaries like Sei Shonagon ("dreadfully conceited"), and Izumi Shikibu (with an "unsavory side to her character"). Starting from looks but then delving into character, Lady Murasaki sadly concludes

We all have our quirks and no one is ever all bad. Then again, it is not possible for everyone to be all things all of the time: attractive, restrained, intelligent, tasteful, and trustworthy.

This passage incidentally defines what a lady-in-waiting considered "good" character. With the exception of trustworthiness, few of these traits will be found on a modern list (although one would certainly wish to see them). The other thing that seems to bother the author is smug people who are full of themselves. In particular, since such people are unable to properly evaluate a person, there is no need to bother revealing one's thoughts to them. This produces a conflict between her public persona and her inner self, which leads Lady Murasaki to the inevitable conclusion that others must "look upon me as a dullard." Still, given her wit and her talent, one suspects she was not one.

Barring significant loss of text (and there is little evidence that the original was much longer), Murasaki's choice of material to record is indeed curious. This is all the more true given her own sentiments

How is it that a little incident like this suddenly comes back to one, whereas something that moved one deeply at the time can simply be forgotten with the passage of the years?

Whileas one might understand the birth of the prince as being worthy of recollection (still, the detail is stunning), it is quite odd that events of more personal nature did not make the cut. Perhaps Lady Murasaki was storing everything for use in her novel?

Richard Bowring's translation is very good and the introductory notes (which, together with the informative appendices, is more than half the length of the diary) are very helpful although not a substitute for a more thorough exposition. He has excellent footnotes and the mansion groundplans facilitate the reading immensely. Finally, there is a short guide to further readings, which is now mostly out of date.

October 10, 2001.

---

@BOOK{murasaki:diary,
    title     = {The Diary of Lady Murasaki},
    author    = {{Murasaki Shikibu}},
    year      = {1996},
    publisher = {Penguin Books},
    address   = {London},
    isbn      = {0-14-043576-X},
    note      = {Translated by Richard Bowring. Pp. lii, 92}
}