The Tale of Genji

The Broom Tree

1

The shining Genji : it was almost too grand a name. Yet he did not escape criticism for numerous little adventures. It seemed indeed that his indiscretions might give him a name for frivolity, and he did what he could to hide them. But his most secret affairs (such is the malicious work of the gossips) became common talk. If, on the other hand, he were to go through life concerned only for his name and avoid all these interesting and amusing little affairs, then he would be laughed to shame by the likes of the lieutenant of Katano.*

Still a guards captain, Genji spent most of his time at the palace, going infrequently to the Sanjo~ mansion of his father−in−law. The people there feared that he might have been stained by the lavender of Kasugano + Though in fact he had an instinctive dislike for the promiscuity he saw all around him, he had a way of sometimes turning against his own better inclinations and causing unhappiness.

2

The summer rains came, the court was in retreat, and an even longer interval than usual had passed since his last visit to Sanjo~. Though the minister and his family were much put out, they spared no effort to make him feel welcome. The minister's sons were more attentive than to the emperor himself. Genji was on particularly good terms with To~ no Chu~jo~. They enjoyed music together and more frivolous diversions as well. To~ no Chu~jo~ was of an amorous nature and not at all comfortable in the apartments which his father−in−law, the Minister of the Right, had at great expense provided for him. At Sanjo~ with his own family, on the other hand, he took very good care of his rooms, and when Genji came and went the two of them were always together. They were a good match for each other in study and at play. Reserve quite disappeared between them.

It had been raining all day. There were fewer courtiers than usual in the royal presence. Back in his own palace quarters, also unusually quiet, Genji pulled a lamp near and sought to while away the time with his books. He had To~ no Chu~jo~ with him. Numerous pieces of colored paper, obviously letters, lay on a shelf. To~ no Chu~jo~ made no attempt to hide his curiosity.

Well, said Genji, there are some I might let you see. But there are some I think it better not to.

You miss the point. The ones I want to see are precisely the ones you want to hide. The ordinary ones I'm not much of a hand at the game, you know, but even I am up to the ordinary give and take. But the ones from ladies who think you are not doing right by them, who sit alone through an evening and wait for you to come those are the ones I want to see.

It was not likely that really delicate letters would be left scattered on a shelf, and it may be assumed that the papers treated so carelessly were the less important ones.

You do have a variety of them, said To~ no Chu~jo~, reading the correspondence through piece by piece. This will be from her, and this will be from her, he would say. Sometimes he guessed correctly and sometimes he was far afield, to Genji's great amusement. Genji was brief with his replies and let out no secrets.

 It is I who should be asking to see your collection. No doubt it is huge. When I have seen it I shall be happy to throw my files open to you.

I fear there is nothing that would interest you. To~ no Chu~jo~ was in a contemplative mood. It is with women as it is with everything else: the flawless ones are very few indeed. This is a sad fact which I have learned over the years. All manner of women seem presentable enough at first. Little notes, replies to this and that, they all suggest sensibility and cultivation. But when you begin sorting out the really superior ones you find that there are not many who have to be on your list. Each has her little tricks and she makes the most of them, getting in her slights at rivals, so broad sometimes that you almost have to blush. Hidden away by loving parents who build brilliant futures for them, they let word get out of this little talent and that little accomplishment and you are all in a stir. They are young and pretty and amiable and carefree, and in their boredom they begin to pick up a little from their elders, and in the natural course of things they begin to concentrate on one particular hobby and make something of it. A woman tells you all about it and hides the weak points and brings out the strong ones as if they were everything, and you can't very well call her a liar. So you begin keeping company, and it is always the same. The fact is not up to the advance notices.