The Tale of the Heike (Heike monogatari)

Translated by Helen Craig McCullough

Stanford University Press, 1988 [1371]; Pages: 489

This is the most complete, and perhaps best, translation of the classic Japanese war tale, Heike monogatari, which narrates the rapid decline and tragic downfall of the mighty Taira clan during the fateful five years after 1180. McCullough's translation is based on a text recorded in 1371 by Kakuichi, who grouped together various extant texts into what has now become more or less the standard version. This is the chronicle that begins with the famous paragraph:

The sound of the Gion Shôja bells echoes the impermanence of all things; the color of the sâla flowers reveals the truth that the prosperous must decline. The proud do not endure, they are like a dream on a spring night; the mighty fall at last, they are as dust before the wind.

And indeed, THE TALE OF THE HEIKE is just that, the story of transience and of pitiful fate, as well as a record of honor, deceit, bravery, and cowardliness. It is a story of human frailty, and the vicissitudes of Fortune, who bestows her gifts now on the Taira, and then on the Minamoto. The sense of mono no aware pervades the narrative and along with the exploits of warriors, there are poignant recitations of touching poetry, and frequent "drenching of sleeves" with crying.

The fate of the Heike (Taira) deserves a lot of tears. Having risen under the skillful leadership of Kiyomori after the Hogen and Heiji disturbances, the Taira succeeded in reducing their arch-rivals, the Genji (Minamoto) to political impotence. The clan enjoyed unprecedented prosperity, and its chieftain became the most powerful man in Japan. The Heian nobles vied for favors, the imperial family bestowed rank after rank on Kiyomori and his relatives. This prosperity, however, did not last long. After two decades, the Taira had become embroidered in court politics, and have become refined in the arts of poetry to such degree, that they started to neglect their warrior roots.

If there was one identifiable weakness, it was their propensity to spare the lives of their enemies. One such person, whose live they did not take when they should have, was Yoritomo, the son of the rebellious Yoshitomo of the Genji, who had sided with ex-Emperor Sutoku during the Heiji disturbance, and who lost to Kiyomori. What is usually considered a noble act requiring gratitude, however, turned out to be a grave mistake for Yoritomo, banished to the east, eventually took arms against the Heike, rallied his relatives and other disaffected elements to his side, and defeated the Taira in a series of battles over a five year period, known as the Gempei War (1180-1185). He did not make the mistake that had saved his own skin, but proceeded to mercilessly hunt down and exterminate every single offspring of the enemy clan. He also did not shy away from killing his own blood relatives, like his uncle Yoshinaka and his brother Yoshitsune, both of whom had rendered him invaluable service in defeating the Taira.

The chronicle only briefly mentions Kiyomori's rise to power in alliance with Emperor Go-Shirakawa. Instead, it focuses on the latter years of his life, when he found his family's position constantly challenged. Although he managed to marry one of his daughters off to an emperor and become Emperor's Antoku's grandfather, the prosperity he enjoyed did not survive him. The clan suffered a lethal blow when his son, the talented and wise Shigemori, died early, relegating leadership to his brother, the cravenly and incompetent Munemori.

The narrator is careful to trace each and every purported iniquity that the Taira have committed, predicting their downfall for at least seven years. However, one cannot help but be moved by the tragic loss of life, and the senseless destruction that accompanies their miserable fate. Although doubtless valiant, Yoshitsune's military exploits pale in comparison with the movingly sad experiences that Koremori, the Imperial Lady, Shigehira, and various lesser characters have to suffer during their flight from the capital, and subsequent wandering throughout Japan.

The story combines three prominent elements that serve as the unifying thread of the narrative. First, the impermanence of things, a very Japanese notion, echoes on just about every page. That the proud must fall, and that everything in this world will perish regardless of how long it lasts or how high it climbs, is evident even without the frequent explicit assertions of the author. Second, the Buddhist notion of karma is also a strong device, for these fleeting lives are all preordained, by the good or evil deeds in prior existence. There are also frequent conversions from lay to religious life, when characters seek enlightenment or atonement for their grievous sins. Thus, Koremori takes the tonsure before committing suicide, and the Imperial Lady lives out the last years of her life as a nun. Amidist Buddhism complements the idea of transience by insisting that one should forsake the pleasures of this world for the harshness of the quest for enlightenment.

The third element is somewhat at odds with the other two, and can be called the sense of honor and duty. This manifests in the deeds of warriors, retainers loyal to their lords to the vary last, captives, who trick their captors and murder them (no one can serve two masters; deceit being an acceptable method of fulfilling one's duty). But the sense of duty, to sovereign, to heaven, to father, and to other living beings, a very Confucian doctrine, also inspires acts worthy of admiration. This is the stuff of heroics. Combined with the premium placed on individual bravery, these traits produce vivid accounts of battles, and spectacular adventures involving every trick in the book.

The translation is superb and although the tempo slows down from time to time so that the author can list names of participants or describe their attire, most of the tale is brisk and engaging. There is some potential for confusion when the occasional Chinese or Japanese legend or story sidetracks the author, but they all form a coherent whole, and serve as establishing precedents or providing allusions to what is to come. As a story, THE TALE OF THE HEIKE should be read for enjoyment and edification.

McCullough also supplies us with a good introduction, which gives some of the necessary background (although one should consult a standard historical reference for details on court organization and the various aspects of life during the Heian period). There is also a rich set of appendices that include maps, genealogies, and a brief account of the Hogen and Heiji disturbances. There is also a chapter on the tale as literature, which I did not find very interesting. There is a glossary, but, regrettably, no index.

By the way, since this is the story of the Taira, the author neglects to mention the ultimate destiny of Yoshitsune, who disappears after being chased out of the capital by his brother. For the moving story of this talented hero, read the 15th century YOSHITSUNE, also in McCullough's translation.

August 15, 2001.

@BOOK{mccullough-88:heike,
    TITLE     = {The Tale of the Heike},
    AUTHOR    = {},
    YEAR      = {1988 [1371]},
    PUBLISHER = {Stanford University Press},
    ADDRESS   = {Stanford},
    ISBN      = {0-8047-1803-2 (pbk.)},
    NOTE      = {Translated by Helen Craig McCullough, Pp. 489}
}