It is likely impossible to determine what the first novel is, but many have named Murasaki Shikibu’s (ca. 973–1014/15) eleventh-century Japanese epic, The Tale of the Genji, not least because its depth and complexity were far beyond anything that appeared in the West for centuries to come. Lady Murasaki was a lady-in-waiting in the imperial court during the Heian period (794–1185) and was one of a handful of aristocratic gentlewomen of the time—including the poet Sei Shōnagon—to pen long-lasting works. At the time, Japanese storytelling was saturated primarily with romantic tosh; Lady Murasaki’s Genji offered something altogether different. Rich in poetic language and depth, it has been compared to Middlemarch and even In Search of Lost Time. I daresay it is more sophisticated than the average novel in our time. To this day, it also remains unsurpassed in the realm of Japanese literature, as Shakespeare is in English; every Japanese schoolchild is expected to be familiar with Lady Murasaki’s work.
Now, the book has received a special tribute at the Musée Guimet with the handsome exhibition “At the Court of Prince Genji: 1000 Years of Japanese Imagination.” I may be wrong, but it seems to me that the book is more well known in the English-speaking world than the French, so this is a welcome show. It includes furniture, prints, fabrics, kimonos, sculptures, paintings, and myriad other objects that inspired or were inspired by the text. I was surprised to discover, for example, that a picture I’ve known for much of my life is in fact from a series titled Parodies from Genji: Utagawa Kuniyoshi’s Osono and Keyamure Rokosuke (1843–47), in which Genji seems to be uncharacteristically giving a woman a smack. Here as well is the celebrated illustrator Utagawa Hiroshige, who in 1852 recreated many scenes from the book. Several of these illustrations appear in the show, displaying such characters as Kiritsubo, Hahakigi, Yügao, Utsusemi, and Wakamurasaki. Hiroshige was a wonderful artist, and his use of pastel blues is especially evocative of the Genji stories.
In the eighteenth century, it was popular throughout Asia to depict scenes from Genji in furniture. Marie Antoinette owned one such piece of furniture, a lacquered-wood hexagonal chest, and from the same period comes a wooden sedan chair showing many scenes from the book; gazing on these etchings while being carried through a Japanese landscape of hills and streams must have been pleasant.
But the exhibition’s jewel is the set of brocaded scrolls made by Itarô Yamaguchi (1901–2007) based on Lady Murasaki’s tale. Yamaguchi lived his entire life in Japan’s Nishijin district, which is near Kyoto, where the imperial court was during the Heian period. Nishijin has been famous since the Heian period for its textiles, and Yamaguchi spent almost his entire life in the family business of textile sales. But when he reached the age of seventy, he resolved to create a masterpiece: a series of woven scrolls depicting scenes from Genji. He expected to finish the work by the time he reached eighty, though he wasn’t sure he would even live that long. In the end, he lived to 105, and he worked until he died.
Yamaguchi’s scrolls are the product of a man who spent his life with the medium. They are rich and colorful, and in them Genji’s world comes alive. He began his work with the end of the text and proceeded backward. His figures are almost ethereal and appear to float. Indeed, in some instances a character’s black hair seems to be the only indication that he or she even possesses a body. The settings are richly detailed, as in “The Branch of the Virgin Vine (Yadorigi I),” which shows ornate lacquer furniture and rich murals surrounding a room where the emperor plays Go with his adopted son, Kaoru. Yamaguchi’s characters maintain the same emotional complexity they have in the text. Spurned wives jealously appear over their husbands’ shoulders as in “The Evening Fog (Yoguri),” and innocent children look cheerful in their idyllic outdoor settings, as in “Buddha’s Law (Minori).” These outdoor settings are of special note, detailed and lush. “Guard Post at the Barrier (Sekiya)” depicts one of Genji’s many amorous nocturnal escapades in one of these open-air environments; tiny, closely detailed villages appear in the horizon, and the air seems to hold the same longing as Genji’s heart.
Yamaguchi’s scroll provides an exquisite look into melancholy and mysterious world. There is much of value throughout the rest of “At the Court with Prince Genji,” but these scrolls alone could justify a visit.
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Source: newcriterion.com
