The Tale of Genji

Rating:
Summary: The Waley Version is Still the One to Read
Review: Having loved both the Arthur Waley and Edward Seidensticker versions of The Tale of Genji as well as the bits and pieces of Murasaki Shikibu's classical Japanese I had hammered through as a graduate student in the Department of East Asian Languages and Literatures at the University of Hawaii, I was thrilled to hear that someone had done a "stunning" new translation of this book I and so many other Genji fans regard as one of the greatest "novels" ever written. Fortunately, a friend of mine, who is also a Genji fan, had the foresight to forward me some random passages of the Tyler version before I actually shelled out any money. In comparing these quotes to the Waley and Seidensticker versions I found, much to my surprise, that the Tyler translation comes up short in almost every instance, and that even Seidensticker's version, engaging as it is, is rather problem-ridden. Compare their respective translations of this short passage from a scene in Chapter Five ("Murasaki"), where Genji is visiting a Buddhist monastery in the mountains:

Waley's version:
Genji felt very disconsolate. It had begun to rain; a cold wind blew across the hill, carrying with it the sound of a waterfall--audible till then as a gentle intermittent plashing, but now a mighty roar; and with it, somnolently rising and falling, mingled the monotonous chanting of the scriptures. Even the most unimpressionable nature would have been plunged into melancholy by such surroundings. How much the more so Prince Genji, as he lay sleepless on his bed, continually planning and counter-planning.

Seidensticker's version:
Genji was not feeling well. A shower passed on a chilly mountain wind, and the sound of the waterfall was higher. Intermittently came a rather sleepy voice, solemn and somehow ominous, reading a sacred text. The most insensitive of men would have been aroused by the scene. Genji was unable to sleep.

Tyler's version:
Genji felt quite unwell, and besides, it was now raining a little, a cold mountain wind had set in to blow, and the pool beneath the waterfall had risen until the roar was louder than before. The eerie swelling and dying of somnolent voices chanting the scriptures could hardly fail in such a setting to move the most casual visitor. No wonder Genji, who had so much to ponder, could not sleep.

There is no doubt Waley embellished the text, but it was clearly in the interest of conveying a sense of the exquisite poetry of Murasaki's prose. His elevated diction lends just that touch of "class" we would expect to find in an author writing for an aristocratic audience for whom style was everything. Moreover, the sumptuous musicality of his phrasing continually underscores the melancholy atmosphere even as it seems to echo the sound of the waterfall and the chanting. Seidensticker's version has the virtue of concision, but his choice of words is often questionable: "reading," for example, suggests that Buddhist monks read the sutras in private meditation rather than chanted them as a group prayer. His "sacred texts," on the other hand, implies that Genji wasn't very familiar with Buddhism, which could hardly be further from the truth. It was as central to his life and worldview as the Catholicism of the Italian princes of the Middle Ages, as Waley's "scriptures" implies. The phrase "aroused by the scene" is even more ill-chosen, for it suggests that Genji found visits to mountain temples erotically stimulating, when in fact they tended to have the opposite effect, for they reminded him of the "vanity" of his secular pursuits, which were, by and large, erotic. Tyler's version follows Waley's interpretation at this point and thus avoids these particular problems, but he has others that are even worse. His "a cold mountain wind had set in to blow," for example, is dreadfully clumsy and somewhat confusing, as is his "the pool beneath the waterfall had risen until the roar was louder than before". This sentence illogically suggests that it was the increased height of the pool below the waterfall that made the roar louder rather than the increase in the size of the waterfall due to the rain that had passed. A good many phrases in the other passages I sampled from the Tyler volume had similar kinds of problems, which makes me wonder if Tyler's editors ever bothered to read the work they insist is so "stunning." If any version deserves that praise it is Waley's, which may be difficult to find, but it is well worth the effort.

Rating:
Summary: Not what I expected...
Review: Having read a few of the great Chinese works (Three Kingdoms, Outlaws of the Marsh, Journey to the West), I had expected this tale of the Japanese hero-prince Genji to be a tale of swashbuckling gallantry, of great plans and the small intrigues that destroy them. Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed.

That's not to say that "Genji" isn't a great book; it just may not be what is expected. Genji is more reminiscent of the evil aristocrats and beaurocratic officials of "Outlaws" than a paragon of princely virtue I expected (to my critics: I understand that probably this isn't what the author is going for, but it is undeniable that his snobbery is celebrated through the first half of the book). Of course, the fault is mine; I tried to impose Chinese culture on a distinctly Japanese book. But, for many of you, this book will fail to satisfy (essentially, Genji tries to get women and boys into bed, but later criticizes them for their poor penmanship). Call me a boor and a clod, but this book was slow and boring (three stars ONLY because SOMEONE must consider it a classic!).

Rating:
Summary: Zzz - Boring!
Review: I shelled out the $30 and found some quiet space to dig into the book, which I was very much looking forward to. After all, this is one of the oldest novels in history. I got about 1/3 of the way in and had to stop reading before I jumped out the window from boredom. What I thought would be fascinating was, well... dull! The reader has to work so hard to follow through this book, interpreting poems and lyrics, and constantly referring to the footnotes -- only to discover that what the writer meant to convey was mind-numbingly boring and repetitive. Sorry - maybe I'm an uncultured toad, but this really did put me to sleep. I still give it three stars, though, for historical appreciation.

Rating:
Summary: best of both worlds
Review: I've read all three translations of The Tale of Genji. For those who don't know there are three translations so far, by Arthur Waley, Edward Seidensticker and this one by Taylor. All of them have their flaws. Waley's translation is known for being a beautifully written, but very freely translated, so free that he left out several chapters. Where Seidensticker's translation is known for being more accurate but the language is not as beautiful. Of all three I think I prefer Taylor's. In addition to the story, he gives an extensive description of the culture and a listing of the Japanese names of the characters which is very helpful for figuring out the intricate details of rank and social position. This may be a bit too much information for those who don't know very much about Heian culture.

For those who don't know much about the plot, the Tale of Genji is divided into two almost completely separate stories. The first part of the story is about Prince Genji, the son of the emperor and a low ranking consort who dies due to her rivals' jealousy. The emperor griefstricken marries another much younger and higher born woman who looks very much like Genji's mother, who Genji falls in love with. Their doomed love affair and its consequences is at the center of this novel. However Genji has many other love affairs some of them with very destructive consequences. Genji's story is both tragic and also light hearted at times as well. Although the story is about Genji, the memorable female characters far outnumber the male ones. Heian Japan was a mostly matrilocal society, where the court was controlled by the grandfather or the father-in-law of the emperor. Women had much more power than in later eras, however, their independence depends on their wealth and social status but the heroines are distinct and have their own thoughts, feelings and personalities.

The second part of the story are the grandchildren of Genji and it takes place after Genji has died. It is the story of the competition between Kaoru, Genji's "son" who is actually the son of Genji's principal wife and her lover, and Genji's grandchild, Niou, and their competition for the love of three sisters. It is very different from the first part of the story, much darker and obsessive. One reviewer described the two parts as Jane Austen and Wuthering Heights in the same novel.

Taylor's translation is well written, informative, and beautifully packaged. I highly recommend it.

Rating:
Summary: A world that's gone
Review: The "Tale of Genji" was written one thousand years ago at the court of the Emperor of Japan. It has to be said, this book will not appeal to everyone. It's very long, it has a huge cast of characters, it's loaded with poetry, and the setting is extremely different to probably anything you've encountered before. There's not much in the way of action or excitement. But if you like human dramas at a gentle pace and are willing to tackle something out of the ordinary, you may find a lot to enjoy here.
Set in tenth-century Japan, it's a bizarre world to us, where a person's worth is measured by their handwriting, their ability to match the colours of their clothes, and their ability to spout just the right poem at the right moment; where women hide themselves away for fear of being seen and are completely dependent on men for support and survival; where men can carry on as many romantic affairs as they please and are thought strange if they don't, and shed tears frequently to demonstrate their sensitivity; where ceremony, music and banquets are given far more prominence in the lives of the nobles than their official duties; where exile a mere thirty miles from the capital is a fate worse than death; and where everyone is continually being struck by the transcience of life and how sad everything is, and how they should devote themselves to religion as a result (and almost never do).
Genji is the beloved son of the Emperor of Japan, but because his mother is of low rank there is no future for him in remaining a prince of the imperial family. When he comes of age his father makes him a commoner, which frees him from the constraints of imperial dignity and allows him to serve in government. Genji is the hero for about three-quarters of the book. The main focus of the story is his love life, with the joys it brings him and the problems he brings upon himself through his behaviour. After his triumphant return from exile, his power and prestige grow and grow until, with the death of his beloved Murasaki, he grows tired of life, retires to a monastery and vanishes from the story. While Genji is beloved and admired by all in the story for his many outstanding qualities he is far from perfect, and the narrator, who intrudes herself with the occasional editorial comment, makes this clear. On the other hand, just when you are disgusted by something Genji has done, he will do something else that once again makes it clear that, in kindness at least, he is a cut above the rest of his male contemporaries.
For the last part of the story, the hero of the story is Kaoru, Genji's putative son. The sensitive and religious-minded Kaoru engages in romantic rivalry with his best friend (and Genji's grandson) Niou for the love of Ukifune, with tragic results. The book ends abruptly and unsatisfactorily, but that's not unusual for such ancient literature where unanswered, and often unanswerable, questions about the survival of documents and authors' intentions always arise.
As a human drama, with psychological insights into the characters that seem so very modern and understandable, this is a really good story (particularly in the Kaoru chapters, to my mind). I also really enjoyed the setting, which is so different to how we live today and therefore so fascinating. I have absolutely no knowledge of whether Royall Tyler's translation is a good one in academic terms, but it reads very easily and has a lot of atmosphere. The character lists at the start of each chapter aid understanding, as do the footnotes, maps, house designs, and various glossaries.
It has to be said that, by our standards, many of the men in the "Tale of Genji" behave cruelly and reprehensibly in their relationships with women. If you can work through that, and the other difficulties so unique a story presents, you will hopefully find your persistence satisfactorily rewarded.

Rating:
Summary: Good Study Volume
Review: The strength of this translation is the introductory information that provides necessary background of both the text and the world that Genji inhabits. Much more than either the Waley and the Seidensticker versions and the footnotes are copious as well. Which makes this translation good for students and classroom study. I would still recommend Ivan Morris' book, _The World of the Shining Prince_ as supplemental information about Heian Japan but Tyler has provided a very good start with his work including very useful genealogical charts.

The illustrations are generous and found throughout the book. Seidensticker had larger illustrations but slightyly less of them whereas Tyler has opted for smaller. One of the flaws of this particular version is the fact that the illustrations are not done as well as the Seidensticker 2 volume set or even the one volume Knopf version. This flaw I place more due to the publisher who has not printed the text as cleanly e.g., ink blots and slight blurring of illustrations and incomplete pressing, as I would have expected. This flaw is found in the more expensive 2 volume hard back set as well. Another thing to consider in the paperback version is the the binding is not the best and will not stand to brutal backpack/book bag wear.

The more useful study volume is definitely Tyler's with his chronology, geneaology charts, informative introduction, footnotes, clothing and color background, offices and titles, and summary of poetic allusions.

It is a very good addition to the collection but do give a swing through both the Waley and the Seidensticker translations as well. Waley for the beautiful language (missing various chapeters) and the Seidensticker (obsessively correct). The rare 19th century partial translation done at Oxford by a Japanese student is a moot issue though interesting for the collection.

Rating:
Summary: All things must pass.
Review: The thousand-year-old TALE OF GENJI unfolds slowly over the course of more than a thousand pages, requiring patience on the part of a modern reader. The author, Murasaki Shikibu, was a lady of the Heian Court of Japan, and her poetic story paints a memorable portrait not only of the "vanished world" (p. xi) of medieval Japan, but of the impermanence of all life. "In this fleeting world where no dewdrop can linger in the autumn wind, why imagine us to be unlike the bending grasses" (p. 759)? Through Royall Tyler's excellent translation, Shikibu's characters remain as relevant as ever in all their worldly passions.

THE TALE OF GENJI is actually two stories in one. Roughly the first 800 pages follow the life of "the Shining Prince" Genji, the son of Emperor Kiritsubo no Mikado and a low-ranking Intimate, Kiritsubo no Koi. The Emperor marries another woman (Fujitsubo), who closely resembles Genji's mother. Genji falls in love with the Empress, and they produce a son. While their impossible love affair is central to the novel, Genji has many other lovers, and many of his affairs end with unfortunate consequences. Ultimately, Genji discovers the love of his life in Fujitsubo's niece, Muraski, whom he eventually marries. Both characters die unexpectedly two thirds the way through Shikibu's novel, at which point the tale turns to Genji's grandchildren for the remaining 300 pages or so.

Despite the fact that the TALE progresses at a gentler pace than modern novels, and despite the fact that digressions, parallel plots, and shifting viewpoints are common to Shikibu's TALE, THE TALE OF GENJI is nevertheless a real pleasure to read for its sustained ability to reveal what it means to live an impermanent existence with rather heroic passions.

G. Merritt

Rating:
Summary: All things must pass.
Review: The thousand-year-old TALE OF GENJI unfolds slowly over the course of more than a thousand pages, requiring patience on the part of a modern reader. The author, Murasaki Shikibu, was a lady of the Heian Court of Japan, and her poetic story paints a memorable portrait not only of the "vanished world" (p. xi) of medieval Japan, but of the impermanence of all life. "In this fleeting world where no dewdrop can linger in the autumn wind, why imagine us to be unlike the bending grasses" (p. 759)? Through Royall Tyler's excellent translation, Shikibu's characters remain as relevant as ever in all their worldly passions.

THE TALE OF GENJI is actually two stories in one. Roughly the first 800 pages follow the life of "the Shining Prince" Genji, the son of Emperor Kiritsubo no Mikado and a low-ranking Intimate, Kiritsubo no Koi. The Emperor marries another woman (Fujitsubo), who closely resembles Genji's mother. Genji falls in love with the Empress, and they produce a son. While their impossible love affair is central to the novel, Genji has many other lovers, and many of his affairs end with unfortunate consequences. Ultimately, Genji discovers the love of his life in Fujitsubo's niece, Muraski, whom he eventually marries. Both characters die unexpectedly two thirds the way through Shikibu's novel, at which point the tale turns to Genji's grandchildren for the remaining 300 pages or so.

Despite the fact that the TALE progresses at a gentler pace than modern novels, and despite the fact that digressions, parallel plots, and shifting viewpoints are common to Shikibu's TALE, THE TALE OF GENJI is nevertheless a real pleasure to read for its sustained ability to reveal what it means to live an impermanent existence with rather heroic passions.

G. Merritt

Rating:
Summary: The Greatness of Genji
Review: This novel is, quite simply, my favorite of all books. It has sparked a love for Japanese culture that has persisted from my first reading of it in the mid-1970s.

I have read the entirety of all three of the complete English translations. To my mind, Royall Tyler's is clearly the best of the lot. Even though I can't compare it to the original, given what I know about Heian culture and the other reading I've done, this version somehow seems to capture the spirit of the age beyond what the others achieved. I vastly prefer the way Tyler has approached the matter of identifying the characters, for example. He uses their courtly titles, even though those change during the course of the story. He manages to keep the reader oriented by the straightforward listing of characters that appears at the beginning of each chapter.

Combined with Tyler's other strategies, I feel closer to experiencing the story the way I imagine it was experienced by Murasaki Shikubu's contemporaries. To me this suggests an approach to translation that strives to come to terms with what the text demands; it better conveys the inherent nature and complexity of the prevailing style. Yet Tyler's fluency as a writer nonetheless draws one deep into a character-based story.

I could go on and on, as this novel is one of my great loves. But I'll simply say it's an essential read and that this is the essential translation.