Iām sure everyone thinks odd things of me. They believe iām like Hong Lu, naïve and shelteredā¦ hehe, that couldnāt be further from the truth.
While, yes, I did come from a privileged background, I almost lived akin to normal cityfolk for quite a bit. I did enjoy the festivals, I was considered only somewhat below Her Majesty, butā¦ iāve got tricks up my sleeves.
They think Iām soft. I have seen the way Heathcliff glares, and I glare right back. Iām clumsy, too babyish, butā¦ do they *truly* think Iām like that? Iām just optimistic, and Iām playing chess to combat their checkers.
ā¦hm? oh, sorry. I didnāt mean that in a bad way, fufu.
I find it intriguing that everyone comes from a different background. From Victor being an intelligent scientist from an esteemed university, to Yi Sang being a wing researcher, even down to Ishmael and her journey in the outskirts. Thereās so much to learn, and yetā¦
I think my background feels the most unimpressive.
Oh, my book?
Youāveā¦ read it, havenāt you?
I regret not a single word I wrote. Maybe if the others read it too, theyād understand that Iām not truly the damsel-in-distress I play the role of.
Infuriating things.
A guest who arrives when you have something urgent to do, and stays talking for ages. If itās someone you donāt have much respect for, you can simply send them away and tell them to come back later, but if itās a person with whom you feel you must stand on ceremony, itās an infuriating situation.
[...]
A hair has got on to your inkstone and you find yourself grinding it in with the inkstick. Also, the grating sound when a bit of stone gets ground in with the ink.
[...]
A very ordinary person, who beams inanely as she prattles on and on.
[...]
A baby who cries when youāre trying to hear something. A flock of crows clamoring raucously, all flying around chaotically with noisily flapping wings. A dog that discovers a clandestine lover as he comes creeping in, and barks.
[...]
I hate it when, either at home or at the palace, someone comes calling whom youād rather not see and you pretend to be asleep, but then a well-meaning member of the household comes along and shakes you awake with a look of disapproval at how youāve dozed off.
Some newcomer steps in and starts interfering and lecturing the old hands as if she knows it all. This is quite infuriating.
[...]
Iāve eaten so many wonderful things in my life. From char-grilled fish with fresh sea salt to the most delectable steak, cooked to perfectionā¦ ahh, foodās like a love language.
Now, iām not someone whoās easy to please with my food. Iāve complained little about our rations because I feel my complaints are more-than spoken for by Ms. Rodion.
Iām not much of a cook myself. I knew just enough to make an okay meal in a pinch, but the cooks we had in the estate were much more skilled.
Please, donāt ask me to make you food. It would be embarrassing.
The status of everyoneās room fills me with curiosity. The thrashing seas and wuthering waves, whyā¦ is my room, then, the calmest?
I peeked into Hong Luās room once when ending a conversation with him. Piles upon piles of money, a gaze at his childhood home in the distanceā¦ why, itās not bad, but likely not too comfortable.
That must be why heās been so enthusiastic about mine.
Itās my chamber overlooking the eastern courtyard. At least, thatās what it resembles. I know that room, and where I rest now is not the same as that once-elaborate chamber.
Thorns and thick, slimy vines overgrow it. Ink splatters, almost like blood and tears, across the walls and floor. Soft music plays at night, but it is not pleasant. Itās discordant, frustrated, as if holding a grudge. The scent is a mix of ink and cherry, intoxicating one when they enter the room.
However, sometimes these details change. On good days, the ink is fading and the thorns are not so large and intimidating. On my lower days, the courtyard is struck with a blizzard, and all the plants wither. Iām cold, left to myself and only a makeshift hearth to keep me warm. Howeverā¦ those days are not too often, so I do not mind them.
I havenāt known him for too long, but I think our bond is pretty close. At night, if heās kicked out of somewhere, he occasionally comes knocking my way and asks if he can stay.
I tend to read my plethora of stories to him those nights before retiring to my bed, offering him a futon and water to rest up. Now, heās made an effort to not upset me or make sure I donāt get too seriously hurt. I donāt mind either way, the pain isā¦ well, letās say, it reminds me that iām human.
But, much like someone new and occasionally out of line, discipline must be given when we are in each othersā care. KyÅka and Suigetsu are the common method, as using the full blade would be much too brash. Just a simple whipping, avoiding any exposed flesh or material deemed too soft.
ā¦hmm? are you suggesting itās abuse? W-well, if he really kindly asked me to stop, I promise I would. But I donāt think Iāve heard that quite yet. Iām sorry.
You have obtained: 1x Crimson Seal
...of approval!
By the time ā chronologically ā her canto happens, we have gone through at least 15 canto chapters.
So Shi assassins? Not too horrible of a threat depending on the section.29. Elegant Things
A white coat worn over a violet waistcoat. Duck eggs.
Shaved ice mixed with liana syrup and put in a new silver bowl. [1371
A rosary of rock crystal. Wisteria blossoms. Plum blossoms covered with snow. A pretty child
eating strawberries.
w e a n u s
, unfortunately, does not auto-censor. Which is probably a good thing, because it's gonna get all distorted and funky and maybe even change texture (and not in a fun or interesting way - we're talking a loose pile of sawdust here)I wrote these notes at home, when I had a good deal of time to myself and thought no one would notice what I was doing. Everything that I have seen and felt is included. Since much of it might appear malicious and even harmful to other people, I was careful to keep my book hidden. But now it has become public, which is the last thing I expected.
One day [c.994] Lord Korechika, the Minister of the Centre, brought the Empress a bundle of notebooks. āWhat shall we do with them?ā Her Majesty asked me. āThe Emperor has already made arrangements for copying the Records of the Historianā [the Chinese work, Shih chi]
āLet me make them into a pillow,ā I said.
āVery well,ā said Her Majesty. āYou may have them.ā
I now had a vast quantity of paper at my disposal, and I set about filling the notebooks with odd facts, stories from the past, and all sorts of other things, often including the most trivial materialā¦.
I was sure that when people saw my book they would say, āItās even worse that I expected. Now one can tell what she is really like.ā
Everything that I have seen and felt is included. Since much of it might appear malicious and even harmful to other people, I was careful to keep my book hidden.
and
I was sure that when people saw my book they would say, āItās even worse that I expected. Now one can tell what she is really like.ā
When I first went into waiting at Her Majestyās Court, so many different things embarrassed me that I could not even reckon them up and I was always on the verge of tears. As a result, I tried to avoid appearing before the Empress except at night, and even then I stayed behind a three-foot curtain of state.
On one occasion Her Majesty brought out some pictures and showed them to me, but I was so ill at ease that I could hardly stretch out my hand to take them. She pointed to one picture after another, explaining what each representedā¦.
It was a very cold time of the year and when Her Majesty gave me the paintings I could hardly see her hands, but, from what I made out, they were of a light pink hue that I found extraordinarily attractive. I gazed at the Empress with amazement. Simple as I was and unaccustomed to such wonderful sights, I did not understand how a being like this could possibly exist in our world.
112.
Things that donāt look good when they are painted. Pink. Irises. Cherry Blossoms. Images of a man and a woman depicted so well in a story.
113.
Things that look good when they are painted. A pine tree. An autumn field. A mountain village. A mountain path.
71. Rare things.
- A son-in-law who gets praises from the father-in-law.
- A daughter-in-law who gets adored by the mother-in-law.
- A silver tweezers that works well.
- A servant who doesnāt talk ill of the master.
- Flawless styles, personalities and some beautiful looking things stay flawless as they go through life and time.
- To see people, living in the same area, trying to have respects, not showing their shortcoming to each other, to keep maintaining that attitude completely and impeccably.
- Not to make an ink stain when you copy stories and anthologies. Especially with a good book, you try so hard not to make a mess, but it is impossible, it always become dirty.
- Not just between a man and a woman, but also among women, it is very rare to see the promises and a deep friendship being kept long and forever.
In 981, she married TACHIBANA no Norimitsu (965 - 1028), the Governor of Mutsu Province, and a year later she bore him a child, TACHIBANA no Norinaga (982 - 1034); however, she couldn't get along with her rough husband, and before long she divorced him. However, they didn't seem to be separated completely, and tradition has it that they maintained contact with each other until 998; the people of the Imperial Court characterized their relationship as being one of "brother and sister."
Some materials indicate her friendships with FUJIWARA no Sanekata (? - 998), FUJIWARA no Tadanobu (967 - 1035), FUJIWARA no Yukinari/Koze (972 - 1027), MINAMOTO no Nobukata (? - 998) and MINAMOTO no Tsunefusa (969 - 1023). Particularly, there remain many of the poems that were exchanged with Sanekata, so there is an assumption that they were in love with each other.
Some materials indicate her friendships with FUJIWARA no Sanekata (? - 998), FUJIWARA no Tadanobu (967 - 1035), FUJIWARA no Yukinari/Koze (972 - 1027), MINAMOTO no Nobukata (? - 998) and MINAMOTO no Tsunefusa (969 - 1023). Particularly, there remain many of the poems that were exchanged with Sanekata, so there is an assumption that they were in love with each other.
while in the Emperor's presence, an incident occurred in which he had an argument with FUJIWARA no Yukinari about poetry; the incensed Sanekata is said to have seized Yukinari's official court cap and hurled it to the ground.
Three years later, Sanekata was in Mutsu riding his horse past the guardian deity of Kasashima when the horse suddenly collapsed, crushing him underneath and killing him (his grave is located in Medeshima in the city of Natori). He was just 40 years old when he died. Makura no Soshi (The Pillow Book) tells of the legend that after his death, Sanekata's spirit came to haunt the area underneath the bridge over the Kamo-gawa river. Another legend claims that after he died he was reincarnated as a sparrow who then devoured all the uncooked rice of the Imperial palace.
and he is thought to have had a love affair with Sei Shonagon (author of The Pillow Book). He is also said to have had affairs with over twenty other ladies, leading some to suspect he was one model for the main character of "Genji Monogatari" (the Tale of Genji), the titular Hikaru Genji, the Shining Prince.
Number 51: Dare I speak what burns within? Though you know it not, I crackle in the moxa flames of love for you
The rivalry between Sei Shonagon and her contemporary writer Murasaki Shikibu, who wrote "The Tale of Genji," has been widely discussed in later generations. However, it was long after Sei Shonagon left the Imperial Court that Murasaki Shikibu began to serve Empress Shoshi, so they couldn't have known each other (but Dr. Bunei TSUNODA advocated a different opinion in his thesis 'Sei Shonagon: Her Later Years,' and he pointed to the possibility that she might have continued her service at the Imperial Court after Teishi passed away, with reference to the word 'Shonagon Myobu' of Ichinomiya Atsuyasu Imperial Prince in "Gonki" (FUJIWARA no Yukinari's Diary).
Despite having been a mature, experienced woman, likely nearing age 30, ShÅnagon was apparently self-conscious, and thought herself unattractive and awkward in comparison with other court ladies. Initially, she tried to stay behind the curtains, observing the courtiers and their wives. But ShÅnagon took pride in serving the brilliant empress and gratefully received her favors. Having impressed Sadako, who eventually succeeded in coaxing her out from behind the curtains, ShÅnagon wrote Makura no sÅshi on paper (a rare and valuable commodity) given to her by the empress.
I love this.KEYWORD: TIMELINE, CHRONOLOGY
It wasnāt until I had finished and sent off my translation that I looked at the notorious translation of this work into modern Japanese by Hashimoto Osamu. āYouāll probably hate this,ā my friend said as he handed it to me. Hashimoto has transformed The Pillow Book into the breathless babble of an excitable young contemporary Japanese girl. (āDawn is like just sooo spring!ā etc.) In his preface he makes exactly my point ā that what Sei wrote is talk, not written or literary language, and that itās a crying shame that her classic status and our conviction that Heian Japanese is ābeautifulā have meant that readers have ceased to be able to hear her. He claims, tongue-in-cheek, that Sei had to wait for a thousand years before 21st century girl-babble evolved as a language that could finally express her essence.