Beginnings (18)—The World of the Shining Prince

Click here for the introduction to Round and Square's Beginnings theme.

[a] Shining RF

Ivan Morris was one of the finest scholars of what we might call the "second generation" of Japanese studies in the United States. Born in Britain in 1925, he was a student of the venerable Arthur Waley, under whom he did his doctoral studies at the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London. Morris wrote well, and he knew it. Even his most academic works have a richness of style and language rarely seen among "professionals." His works for general readers—perhaps because of the influence of his mentor, he regarded these as vitally important—are as elegantly written as they are well-researched. 

One of the books that never get dull for me (I treasure them and reread them every few years) is Morris's The World of the Shining Prince: Court Life in Ancient Japan. Originally published in 1964, it was republished with a memorable introduction by one of his graduate students, Barbara Ruch, who gives a sensitive interpretation of Morris's sources, analytical approaches, and even areas (such as matters Morris calls "superstition") that might be viewed through a different lens today.

[b] Blossoming RF

Ivan Morris died in 1976 at the age of fifty. Thirty-five years later, it is well worth reading the beginning of The World of the Shining Prince, which describes life in and around the Heian Japanese capital (today's Kyoto) as well as the era's greatest narrative, The Tale of Genji. As Barbara Ruch notes in her introduction, it is as though Morris set out to write his own work of literature in these opening lines. I would agree that it is exactly what he did. Academic work can be beautifully written. Like literature—which is precisely what it is, or course.

Finally, the old Penguin edition of The World of the Shining Prince had a description of Morris's career that was as inspirational as it was creative. The faulty editing captured my imagination in a way that no ordinary biographical information could, and—to this day—gets me thinking about the wonders of Quantum Leaping into the past for research. Here is the back cover blurb to that edition:

                 Ivan Morris was one of our most accomplished translators from the 
                 Japanese. He wrote widely on modern an ancient Japan, where he 
                 lived for four years...

Sign me up, I thought. I'd give up a few rungs on the academic ladder for the chance to spend a little time with Ivan Morris and Prince Genji on the streets of Heian Kyō.

Ivan Morris
The World of the Shining Prince
In 784 the emperor gave orders that his capital should be moved from the temple city of Heijō (Nara), where it had been for most of the century, to Nagaoka, some thirty miles to the north. Like Heijō the new centre was to be modelled on the Chinese capital of Ch'ang-an; but, in accordance with the increased wealth of the island kingdom, it was to be on a far larger and grander scale than any previous town in Japan. Elaborate and expensive plans were drawn up for the construction of the new buildings, and these were carried out under the supervision of Tanetsugu, a member of the growing Fujiwara family.

[c] Wind-water RF

The court and the government offices were duly moved to Nagaoka. Tanetsugu appears to have been a vigorous and efficient organizer, but he had acquired many enemies. Among these was the emperor's brother, Crown Prince Sawara, and members of certain rival families which resented the rise of the Fujiwaras. The taint of scandal soon attached itself to Tanetsugu: it was rumoured (perhaps quite correctly) that a certain rich family of Chinese descent had offered him the land on which the new capital was built in return for future favours that he might procure for them at court. These rumours were fanned by his enemies and only one year after the move to the new city Tanetsugu was attacked by a group of bravos and murdered. The real culprits were believed to be members of rival families, instigated by Prince Sawara. With typical acumen the Fujiwaras turned the murder to their advantage by removing these families from the scene. There were several arrests.

Some of the suspects were executed, but most were sent into exile, which under the kindly influence of Buddhism had become the more normal form of punishment. Among them was Prince Sawara, who, after being imprisoned for some time in a Buddhist temple, was sent under escort to the island of Awaji on the Inland Sea. He never reached his destination. It appears that in the course of his journey he as put to death on official instructions. Shortly afterwards illness and other misfortunes started to plague the imperial family and the Fujiwaras. The primitive medical knowledge of the time, combined perhaps with a guilty conscience, led the government to attribute all this to Sawara's vengeful spirit. Efforts were made to placate the dead prince, and in the year 800 the government went to the extent of appointing him head of state with the title of Emperor Sudō, thus giving him the distinction of being the only man to become emperor after five years in the grave.

[d] Center RF

Prince Sawara's death had already helped to produce another, and far more significant, effect. Hardly a decade after the capital had been moved to Nagaoka, with all the work and expense this entailed, the emperor ordered that it be moved once again, this time to a little village some ten miles to the north. The site had been discovered in much the same way as Versailles—in the course of a hunting expedition. It seemed to fulfil the 'wind and water' topographical requirements better than the existing city; also its situation was more strategic and allowed for greater expansion. The main reason for the move, however, was superstition. The princely ghost, and also Tanetsugu's, still seemed to hover over Nagaoka; and no doubt the emperor and his advisers felt that their baleful influence might prevent the capital from developing into the splendid political and cultural centre they envisaged.

In 794, the year of the second move, an imperial edict announced the new capital would be called Heian Kyō, the City of Peace and Tranquility. Apart from having an auspicious ring (the latter part of the eight century had witnessed a great deal of political strife and bloodshed), the name combined the first and last syllables of Heijō, Japan's earliest real city, and Ch'ang-an, the great T'ang metropolis from which Heian, like the former capitals, was modelled. Later it became known as Kyōto, and it remained the imperial capital for more than a millennium.[1]

[e] Shining RF

Notes
[1] Ivan Morris, The World of the Shining Prince: Court Life in Ancient Japan (New York: Kodansha International, 1994), 1-2.

Bibliography
Morris, Ivan. The World of the Shining Prince: Court Life in Ancient Japan (New York: Kodansha International, 1994.