I thought the 13 stories and the 86 songs in this two-part book would have been normally translated from Japanese but it was my misunderstanding because the translated stories were in fact from a French translation by Ken Sato (pp. x, 98) and the 90 songs were “retranslated by E. Powers Mathers from Gaston Morphy's anthology Le Livre des Geisha" (p. xiv) and in his introductory note, the translator said, “I have selected some of my ninety from Le Livre des Geishas of Gaston Morphy, and the rest from Chansons des Geishas by Steinilber-Oberlin and Hidetake-Iwamura” (p. 103). Therefore, this is the first book originally written in Japanese, translated into French then English so I read its L3 version, not L2 as usual.
Having read and written my brief reviews on Saikaku Ihara’s “The Life of an Amorous Man” (Tuttle, 2001), “Five Women Who Loved Love” (Tuttle, 1956) and “The Life of an Amorous Woman” (New Directions, 1969), I instantly recalled comparing this book to the second title above as the characters’ romantic love in which the stories of the five women portrayed “five determined women in their always amorous and usually illicit adventures” (back cover). In contrast, this one in question has focused on “the theme of homosexual love: of samurai for samurai or samurai for court boy bent on becoming samurai” (back cover).
Nearly equally captivating, each story with at least two protagonists has revealed their fate, their renunciation, their pardon/admiration, etc., in other words, each case categorized as “deadly love” or not has depended on the lovers themselves. One of the reasons is that they have their own character as well as motive in which we can see how they have ultimately dictated those involved to a sad or surprising finale. For instance, I found the story (No. 12) on Jinnosuke Kasuda and Gonkuro Moriwaki admiringly touching due to their valor and comradeship. Of course, it was a tale of comrade love between Jinnosuke, a thirteen-year-old boy and his lover Gonkuro, a twenty-year-old samurai. When Jiinosuke was sixteen, another samurai named Ibei Hanzawa fell in love with him and tried to send him love-letters but in vain; so Ibei was so furious that he challenged him for a duel. Jinnosuke wrote a letter to Gonkoro, an excerpt as follows:
‘I have many other things with which to reproach you, but am feeling infinitely sad. And even now I cannot help loving you. I do nothing but weep for my unhappy passion …
‘I have still much to write, but evening is drawing near, and I must cease. To my dear Gokuro from his Jiinosuke. May 26th, in the seventh year of Kuanbun (A.D. 1667).’ (p. 88)
As for the songs, I think they should be ideally appreciated by means of listening to each one sung by a geisha in Japanese since they were primarily meant to be sung to entertain guests, not to be read like the haiku; therefore, knowing Japanese like native speakers is a must to the listeners. Moreover, any song translated into English might be doubly tough when one tries to understand and appreciate it. Again, the extracts from the translator’s note should be helpful in guiding us to see the light, “The following verses are definitely popular ones. They are folk-songs, almost music-hall songs, and are taken solely from the singing repertoire of Geishas. … It should be remembered, too, that practically all the Japanese poems with which we have been made familiar in English are classical and written to one or other of very strict rules, whereas these songs for the samisen are technically free. … ” (p. 103). Considering these three songs as our literary starter, we may eventually try browsing the following and see what we can cherish in mind, that is, identify any line you like and ask yourself why:
21. The Letter
If there were no moon
I would read it by the Winter snow light,
Or in Summer by the fireflies,
Or if there were no moon or snow or fireflies
I would read it by the light of my heart. (p. 112)
25. A Single Cry
A flight of flying cuckoos
Across the moon, a single cry.
Is the moon crying cuckoo?
Night pales slowly. Men are cruel
And women are not.
They weep and say over sorrow
For a small separation. (p. 113)
40. Green Willow
The breeze is so light
That when it soothes the green willow
It seems not to touch her.
Indistinct shadow.
We have set our two pillows
Very close in the bed.
Our mornings and our evenings.
And our useless little quarrels
And then our letters.
Is waiting or parting bitterer?
Let us not separate. (p. 118)
In summary, while reading this 13-love book by Ihara Saikaku, we can see the stories themselves seemingly have limited narration, in other words, they are obviously far less romantic, emotional and adventurous than his “Five Women Who Loved Love” in which we can admire some 17th-century illustrations by Yoshida Hambei, enjoy reading more dialogs as well as a background essay “Saikaku’s “Five Women”” by Richard Lane at Columbia University. Moreover, the songs added in this book could be randomly read, any one you like, as the basic step for some readers so that some might be eventually interested in studying Japanese, then ultimately and blissfully reread each song in its original version.