First published in 2006. This family saga of a wicked stepmother has been called the world's first novel. Written during the 10th century Heian Era and first translated into English in 1934. It follows the changing fortunes of the heroine, Lady Ochikubo, who is forced to live almost as a servant in her noble father’s house while the stepmother gives preference to her own daughters. The story of the Lady marris a powerful nobleman of the Royal Court and triumphs over adversity is told with emotion, with and humour.
*Note: I'm giving this book five stars as a historical, literary treasure from 10th century Japan. As a book for modern reading pleasure, it would rank only as a 3 star book.
How many novels written before 1000 A.D. have you read ? Not many, I would bet. That might be because there weren't a large number! European nobles left writing and reading to monks and spent their time jousting, feasting, drinking, wenching, and disturbing the peace. Meanwhile, in Heian era Japan, poetry and romantic moods were the occupation of a similarly small class of people. Poems on matching paper accompanied gifts. The elite of Heian society possessed an amazing aesthetic sense, unrivaled almost anywhere else. Religious and political ceremony had developed into arts, ritual took an important place in Heian society. Just reading a novel set in such a society, where one wrote poems on a daily basis and handwriting spoke volumes, will open your eyes to the immense variety of human societies our species has spawned.
In THE TALE OF THE LADY OCHIKUBO people are referred to by their titles rather than by their names. As their status at court changes, they are called by their new titles. This goes for wives too. Thus, reading this anonymous author is even more difficult than the Russian novels where everyone has name, patronymic, family name, and a couple nicknames. "The Lady Ochikubo" is a disparaging nickname for the stepdaughter of a fairly high official whose wife uses and abuses this long-suffering young woman. But, ah, a gallant swain appears, falls in love with her, and ultimately carries her off. A tale of revenge then unfolds, but not at all in the style of samurai movies. That era came a couple centuries later. This is a mild tale, by an unknown author, told in kindness. I think its literary qualities are likely to appeal more to scholars and those interested in ancient Japan than to modern readers. Nevertheless, the emotions and reactions to Fate, shared by us in the 21st century with Japanese in the 10th century, bring home the fact that human beings are similar, no matter the time or place. The ability of some people to answer cruelty with kindness, to forsake revenge, and 'turn the other cheek' has existed throughout human history. This is such a story. It is a real novel with humor, good characterization, unexpected twists, sex and farce. If you are willing to try something very different, this novel could be for you.
The Tale of Lady Ochibuko is less a novel than it is a novella; regardless of this, it was actually written about twenty or thirty years prior to The Tale of Genji, which comes as sort of a surprise to me. What also really stands out to me about Ochibuko is that it's a precursor to the modern Cinderella story. I sort of wonder what has caused this particular work to sink into obscurity, but in another way I actually understand perfectly well why it has.
While Genji is full of beautiful descriptions, vibrant characters and an author with a clear personality and identity, Ochibuko is lacking. For a piece of Japanese literature, I have to admit that I expected more immersion into the culture via character and environment. While I can clearly tell that this work is, in fact, Japanese and possesses the basic traits that make the country's literature stand out from Western literature, it is not a particularly well-written novella in comparison. At least, the translation I read doesn't impress me but I don't think I can really blame the translator if the original was probably just as lifeless.
While Ochibuko is essentially an influence on the Cinderella story, it doesn't follow it all the way. While the Lady does start out very similarly to Cinderella in a bad family situation, her "Prince Charming" comes along fairly quickly to save her; once that story arc is completed there's still about half the novel left, in which a lot of the tedium comes into play. I'm sure that the anonymous author wants the reader to see how the family ends up suffering and I respect that, but it does not come off as interesting because of the aforementioned unpolished writing.
Overall, I was a little disappointed in The Tale of Lady Ochibuko. It is not at all representative of the fantastic writing available for the Heian time period. However, I would recommend it to those who have already read a few Heian works just for its significance of being a precursor and possible influence on Genji.
A Heian Era novel (or monogatari, in Japanese), most likely written between 970 and 1000, considered second only to the famous Genji Monogatari, is an odd book to find oneself liking, especially with its slow pace and names that keep changing with each of the characters' life changes (be promoted, get a new name; be married, get a new name, etc.), but I found it fascinating despite having to keep a pencil list of who was who on the inside front cover. Reading The Tale of the Lady Ochikubo is like dropping invisibly into the highly ritualized world of Heian society with its strict etiquette regarding everything from the layers and colours of one's robes to the number of carriages one travels in. Many reviewers have written of the 'rags to riches Cinderella plot' but ignore the plot. This was one of the earliest pieces of Japanese literature that even attempted a plot and I suspect the unknown author was less concerned with a storyline than the details of each scene. What is a plot other than a device to move one scene to the next? This is a world where a woman's beauty was measured by the length of her hair that trailed behind her on the floor as she walked. Intelligence was measured by an ability to understand silence. Wit by one's poetry. Sincerity by one's humbleness. As I watched the news on TV this morning, I realized how distant and incomprehensible to everything the Heian man or woman knew, our world today has become.
L'Ochikubo Monogatari appartiene al filone dei MAMAKOTAN o MAMAKOMONO, Racconti di Figliastre caratteristici della letteratura del Periodo Heian. Sembra che questo tipo particolare di romanzi, oltre ad esser scritto da cortigiani/e, vista l'età delle protagoniste, fosse utilizzato per avvicinare psicologicamente le giovani donne al matrimonio. Alla base di questi monogatari vi erano le vicende della figliastra di turno maltrattata dalla matrigna ( e quasi mai dai fratellastri), e il suo successivo riscatto morale, consistente di solito in un ottimo matrimonio. Per quanto riguarda l'Ochikubo Monogatari, la perfidia della matrigna è ben visibile persino dal nome che le affibbia, "Ochikubo no Kimi". Il termine Ochikubo designava gli ambienti destinati alla servitù, la cui posizione era infossata rispetto alle altre stanze della casa, mentre Kimi era l'appellativo con il quale ci si rivolgeva all'inserviente di più alto rango. Salvo alcune piccole somiglianze, a torto è stato avvicinato alla nostra Cenerentola. I Mamakomono sono notevolmente più articolati nella narrazione degli eventi. Nell'Ochikubo Monogatari, in particolare, sono coinvolti un gran numero di personaggi secondari che arricchiscono il testo di situazioni ed ambientazioni fra le più svariate. Gli unici punti di contatto fra le due fiabe possono essere quelli legati alla base della storia, la figliastra, i maltrattamenti, il matrimonio, e forse se vogliamo, il nome dispregiativo dato alla protagonista. I Mamakomono si mantengono ben saldi alla realtà, non esistono fate come in Cenerentola che miracolosamente risolvono la situazione, ma solo uomini veri che grazie all'astuzia e all'intelligenza riescono a far prevalere il bene sul male. Mentre poi Cenerentola termina con l'incontro fra i due amati e con l’inevitabile " e vissero felici e contenti", il Mamakomono prosegue, ed è proprio a questo punto che la lettura si fa davvero interessante. Tutti i Mamakomono contengono dunque una sorta di formula che consente lo svolgersi della storia: 1. L'immagine della condizione disagiata in cui versa la povera protagonista. 2. L'incontro con l'uomo "saiwai", toccato dal favore divino. 3. Il matrimonio spesso celebrato all'oscuro della sua famiglia. 4. La vendetta consumata dal marito. 5. Il perdono e la riconciliazione. È nella parte a noi mancante, quella riservata alla vendetta, che entrano in scena le lezioni buddhiste relative al principio della retribuzione karmica. L'unica differenza è che in questo caso la matrigna viene punita per le azioni commesse senza dover attendere la vita successiva. La vendetta del marito (consistente per lo più nel creare situazioni di estremo disagio e di imbarazzo), si consuma nella più totale segretezza, non è un caso dunque che l'ignara matrigna continui a considerare la spirale negativa, in cui è improvvisamente stata risucchiata, come una punizione per le colpe commesse in una vita passata non considerando affatto quella presente. Dopo la rivelazione della loro identità, inevitabilmente ne consegue il perdono e la riappacificazione. La storia non può terminare finché tutte le situazioni precarie non si sono stabilizzate e fin quando tutte le sorellastre non trovano un ottimo marito.
Total page turner, read it straight through. Cinderella with great characters, lots of surprise twists, so well plotted, and really funny. Hard to believe this was written more than a thousand years ago, before The Tale of Genji. Last part a bit too saccharine, happily ever after.
Only a few of the 24 extant Heien monogatori have been translated into English. Japanese is hard to learn, but I am now all the more motivated.
Those hoping for a second Genji will perhaps be disappointed by the comparative sketchiness of The Tale of Ochikubo, but it rattles along for all its breeziness (or because of it) and remains consistently charming from start to finish. While the lady herself is never other than a paragon, there is a fair amount of realistic and subtle characterization elsewhere (even in the case of the wicked stepmother). Really quite a satisfying read.
‘The Tale of Lady Ochikubo’ is a tenth century Japanese monogatari, if the translation is fair to the source material, it’s essentially a novel. I know very little about Japanese culture nothing about Heian period, yet I have read other early novels and I found myself surprisingly at home.
There’s something about this book which is not a million miles away from late seventeenth century or early eighteenth century literature. There is the same focus on money and prestige, the difficulty of matching money and manners, a character who has all the noble qualities and is not treated such contrasted with an ignoble character who has a high position. Japan in the tenth century was far more like modern Europe than Europe in the tenth century was - we were telling each other Beowulf and sagas of century long feuding - these people have traffic jams, conspicuous spending and snarky poems.
There was also something very like eighteenth century novels in how the central figure of Lady Ochikubo was a relatively uninteresting, blemish-free character but the characters who surround her are really interesting. Her maid was a particular delight, snarky, sassy and very in control, she was essential in improving the lady’s life with her ingenuity. I also loved the maid’s relationship with her husband, they argued, shared common jokes, teased each other and loved each other - it felt like a real relationship.
The story has equivalence in ‘Cinderella’, Lady Ochikubo is a stepdaughter who is constantly under a barrage of indignity and commands from her stepmother. She lives in a tiny room where she does everyone’s sewing but gets little to wear herself. She of course finds her prince charming and marries him - but that’s only at the midpoint. From there, her husband keeps rising in power and status, using that power to revenge himself on the family who so badly treated his one love. He gets an influential man to pull out of one marriage, engineers a fool to marry another and constantly gazumps and one-ups them at every turn. When he has done this and gained even more power, he then uses it to help the family who spurned Lady Ochikubo, find good positions for them and ultimately make them sorry they were ever horrid to her.
The best part of the book was the middle section. Where the first felt like a Eliza Haywood-esque improbable romance, the second had a more Fielding-esque feel. The little snubs and big power plays that Lady Ochikubo’s husband has with her former family are mostly satisfying and funny, making them look silly rather than any outright violence. Although the details of tenth-century Japanese life and early eighteenth-century European life were different, the values were eerily similar and made the text pretty easy to navigate.
The main difficulty in following the text came from the lack of names. Except in times of extreme emotion, most of the characters were simply not named at all, only appearing under their titles. This meant that as the characters moved up and down in the social hierarchy, their names changed and although the text tried its best to keep things straight, it still took a bit of following.
Another huge difference between this text and what I’m used to is the institution of marriage. There seems to be a ‘try-before-you-buy’ system, where the couple sleep together three times before making a decision. It also seemed that marriage was pretty easy to back out of and it was possible to have multiple wives. In some ways this lessened the tension I’m used to in early European novels, in those you can only get married once so it had better be the right one. In other ways it heightened it because it seemed very possible for a man to abandon a wife without much censure.
I was also unsure about the existence of lucky or unlucky days, years and even directions. Religion was treated as something of a joke in this text, people who were unhappy declared their intention to become nuns and religious life seemed a choice suited to old people who had nothing better to do. Add to that, the travellers on pilgrimage elbowed each other out of the way to get to the shrines and took each other’s rooms, almost coming to an all out brawl. Whereas people seemed to hold dignity very high in personal and professional life, there didn’t seem to be much in religious life.
Ultimately, I was surprised how much I enjoyed this text and how much I felt like I was following it, given my utter ignorance of the culture that produced it. It seems there are similarities in novel-producing cultures, a sense of social order and the individual’s position in it, a certain mercantile greediness and a love of the witty putdown. I might even seek out ‘The Tale of Genji’.
Meet Lady Ochikubo, a Cinderella in a particular time of Heian period for #JanuaryinJapan book 6. She grows up in a prestigious family with cruel step mother who constantly treats her as nothing but 'Ochikubo no Kimi' - The Lady of the Lower Room. So-like-Cinderella, she lives in a very tiny room. From that room, she keeps sewing for everyone but she does not have any decent outfit to wear. She later of course finds her prince charming and marries him - after both of them exchanging some letters, poem and the guy keeps sneaking into her room several times. After the wedding, her husband gets a rise in status and power. He tries to use that power on Ochikubo's family particularly the step mother who treats her badly. He gets somebody influential to pull out of one marriage; the engineers a fool to marry another and constantly breaking this family into pieces. He later returns to the family pretending to be their white knight just to make them sorry for treating his wife badly. Ah, a little bit like this Drew Barrymore's Ever After movie tho!
I know that I look like an old lady who keeps complaining just because I have never ever been into a Cinderella story tho. I always hate a heroine who experiences Cinderella syndrome. Yet I wish I could see a little bit of development in our Lady Ochikubo. Her character to me is just so flat and relatively uninteresting. Her maid is more interesting than her. She is delight, cheerful and has very sassy mouth. I love how Ochikubo's maid argues, teases and shares common jokes with her husband. Their relationship is more lively than our hero and heroine's relationship. It feels like a real relationship tho.
It is an interesting book but it is just okay - in my opinion.
I didn't like it as much as I recognize its cultural value. Many aspects of Heian Japan are charming and intriguing; many are uncomfortable. Particular among that latter element are prevalent themes of male strength opposed to female weakness. Not only were women powerless in the social field, where their only means of enacting change was hen-pecking and moody silence; but in the physical field, female vulnerability (weeping, protesting) was seen as erotic, and non-consensual relationships are presented as the matter-of-fact norm with startling regularity and with no blemish left on the man's moral standing. The main romance fluctuates between moments of affection and of abrasive male domineering. That being said, the cultural impact of this story is considerable. It offers a fascinating, cohesive and humanly-portrayed snapshot of life in 10th-century Japan that meshes with the other literature of the era to round out a detailed picture of the times. Designated part of the UNESCO Collection of Representative Works for good reason, its at times unpleasant nature does not invalidate its significance.
Instead of feeling immersed in Japanese culture as I usually do when reading classic tales, this time I felt like I was watching a telenovela. Most Heian novels were written by women; it is said the author of this tale was a man, and the differences in the style and narrative make me inclined to agree. The story is repetitive, and most of the emphasis is on what the Lord did and said and thought, with the Lady in the background weeping or smiling, writing poems or gently advising. It may be the Tale of the Lady, but the Lord is most definitely the main character. The only cultural titbit I picked up this time is that apparently Heian Japanese noblemen snapped their fingers when annoyed! We are treated to what may be the first ever written-out Japanese poop joke, but even that is repeated far too many times in the space of two or three pages to be amusing. Even the author seemed to get tired of his tale by Book Four, as he repeatedly says things like "but I won't go into detail about that, as it would be too boring." There's plenty of poetry, but judging by the quality of the translation, Sei Shonagon and her sisters had nothing to worry about. By the time I reached the end, I was glad I had. I doubt I will read this again.
A light reading, Cinderella-style novel from the late 900s that would be a good introduction to Heian literature and culture for those who are unfamiliar with this period. It does not contain as many references to other works, poems, or cultural allusions that new readers of Heian literature may stumble over and the translation is generally clear and easy to read. However, it does have a very simple story structure without surprises or twists, flat characters, and lacks the focus on poetic and natural beauty that you find in works from later in the Heian period. It can be difficult to keep the characters straight, as they are referred to by their titles, which change many times throughout the work.
One of the few "complete" Heian era (794 to 1185) novels that exist today, its a very simple page-turner with timeless humour on the whole song and dance of tradition that amuses me whenever I read older works of fiction. Whatever happened to quoting poems at our beloved? Very enjoyable read, even with little character development— I can't blame them this was literally the year 999, though if you'd told me it was 500 years older I'd believe you. The classic Cinderella story where every interaction is rich with information about the life and times in a foreign nation thousands of miles a way and a thousand years ago that makes you think about how amazing it is that this is so accessible.
A delight to reread after teaching classes on the Tale of Genji for many years. Did I really finish reading the book when I bought it in the 80s, with so many other translations from classical Japanese literature. In any case, this time I read with care and enjoyment, doing spot checks with the original and a modern Japanese translation. This English translation stands up well.
Читал с большими перерывами - сложно пробираться через заросли банальностей, передаваемых в виде сериала о сложной судьбе нелюбимой падчерицы, ставшей в итоге счастливой придворной госпожой. Но потраченного времени не жаль: параллельно изучал историю Японии, так что книга была своеобразной иллюстрацией жизни знати средних веков.
Цікава інтерпретація винагороди за страждання від японців. Добре серце і стоїчна витримка здатна схилити на свій бік навіть наймогутніших, але за умови, що в тебе є свій непримиримий буллі. Інакше нікому не цікаво буде тебе рятувати *** Вітра безжальний порив Зриває цвітіння кульбаби Та не відає поки Ще більше стане квітковий тріумф Як і падчерки доля
Realized I read this before and didn't really think of it as a book - though I guess it could almost be the length of a novella. In terms of style and content is far removed from it's contemporary writings, though I could give it credit for potentially helping to spur the late 10th century feminine writing movement.
As for it being the Japanese, 'Cinderella' story, it isn't. they share vague similarities, but the comparison is weak. They share a similar fatalism, but then most pre-modern works, in general, fall back on fatalism. The Buddhist sentiments of "The Tale of Lady Ochikubo" offer no parallel to the 'hard work and suffering get rewarded' Christian backdrop of the Cinderella story.
Worth the read if you're running the Heian period gauntlet of Lit.
I devoured this book. I found it wonderfully exotic and entertaining, but I fear my reading of it -and my understanding! - was pretty superficial. This was my first exposure to 10th Century Japanese culture and history, and so I'm afraid I had no reference point from which to take a more substantial meaning. Still, it did spark in me an interest of doing further research on the subject, and perhaps when I become a little more knowledgeable I'll pick up the book again and be amazed at what -and how little! - I took away from it the first time.