What do you think?
Rate this book
The World of the Shining Prince: Court Life in Ancient Japan
The World of the Shining Prince, Ivan Morris's widely acclaimed portrait of the ceremonious, inbred, melancholy world of ancient Japan, has been a standard in cultural studies for nearly thirty years. Using as a frame of reference The Tale of Genji and other major literary works from Japan's Heian period, Morris recreates an era when woman set the cultural tone. Focusing on the world of the emperor's court-the world so admired by Virginia Woolf and others-he describes the politics, society, religious life, and superstitions of the times, providing detailed portrayals of the daily life of courtiers, the cult of beauty they espoused, and the intricate relations between the men and women of this milieu.
337 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1964
97 people are currently reading
3017 people want to read
About the author
Ivan Morris
56 books31 followersIvan Ira Esme Morris (29 November 1925 – 19 July 1976) was a British author and teacher in the field of Japanese Studies.
Ivan Morris was born in London, of mixed American and Swedish parentage, to Ira Victor Morris and Edita Morris. He studied at Gordonstoun, before graduating from Phillips Academy. He began his study of Japanese language and culture at Harvard University, where he received a BA. He received a doctorate at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London. He wrote widely on modern and ancient Japan and translated numerous classical and modern literary works. Ivan Morris was one of the first interpreters sent into Hiroshima after the explosion of the bomb.
Ivan Morris was born in London, of mixed American and Swedish parentage, to Ira Victor Morris and Edita Morris. He studied at Gordonstoun, before graduating from Phillips Academy. He began his study of Japanese language and culture at Harvard University, where he received a BA. He received a doctorate at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London. He wrote widely on modern and ancient Japan and translated numerous classical and modern literary works. Ivan Morris was one of the first interpreters sent into Hiroshima after the explosion of the bomb.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 110 reviews
May 19, 2017
I got interested in 10th and 11th century Japan after reading The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon. The poetry! The mid-night romantic rendezvous! The snarky gossip! I had to learn more and Ivan Morris’ short social history was the perfect way to add to my knowledge.
It was compulsive reading. The royalty of the Heian imperial court were seriously weird—and not just because the women painted their faces chalk white and their teeth black.
“There were many occasions in daily life -- a visit to the country, for example, or the sight of the first snowfall of the year -- when the failure to compose appropriate poems was a grave social solecism.” The wrong color note paper, badly folded, could doom you to social exile, as could poor penmanship.
A vast array of superstitions and taboos ruled Heian daily life along with melded Confucian, Buddhist, Shinto and Taoist beliefs and ceremonies. The imperial city was moved three times because of fears of ghosts and ill-luck.
The third of the cities, Heian Kyo, was planned in perfectly systematic fashion: streets and very wide tree-lined avenues crossed each other at right angles. Only patrician families could live on the avenues. “To the north-east, a great mountain range proudly defended the city from evil influences--as well as furnishing the aristocracy with an excuse for excursions. The Kamo and Katsura rivers provided the second essential female element."
The emperor was barely more than a figurehead; one great family, the Fujiwaras, held the real power.
A small pool of eligible nobility coupled with a policy of marriage politics meant inbreeding and eventually sterility, weakening the system from within.
This is a good introduction to the Heian Period. Concise, but not as much fun as this book.
It was compulsive reading. The royalty of the Heian imperial court were seriously weird—and not just because the women painted their faces chalk white and their teeth black.
“There were many occasions in daily life -- a visit to the country, for example, or the sight of the first snowfall of the year -- when the failure to compose appropriate poems was a grave social solecism.” The wrong color note paper, badly folded, could doom you to social exile, as could poor penmanship.
A vast array of superstitions and taboos ruled Heian daily life along with melded Confucian, Buddhist, Shinto and Taoist beliefs and ceremonies. The imperial city was moved three times because of fears of ghosts and ill-luck.
The third of the cities, Heian Kyo, was planned in perfectly systematic fashion: streets and very wide tree-lined avenues crossed each other at right angles. Only patrician families could live on the avenues. “To the north-east, a great mountain range proudly defended the city from evil influences--as well as furnishing the aristocracy with an excuse for excursions. The Kamo and Katsura rivers provided the second essential female element."
The emperor was barely more than a figurehead; one great family, the Fujiwaras, held the real power.
By the 10th century the Fujiwaras had imposed on the emperor a life cycle that was bound to keep him under the family's thumb. He came to the throne as a callow youth and was promptly married to a Fujiwara girl [often an aunt]; their son would be appointed crown prince, and when his father was obliged to abdicate [and take vows as a monk], usually at age thirty, the crown prince would succeed him and the cycle begin anew.Members of the upper class were almost all related and were totally uninterested in anyone outside their own charmed circle which represented about 1/10 of 1% of the population. Landholders in the provinces were scorned as too boorish to be admitted to court system. The upper ranks looked with particular scorn on military men. Ordinary peasants were viewed as members of a different species.
A small pool of eligible nobility coupled with a policy of marriage politics meant inbreeding and eventually sterility, weakening the system from within.
Even as early as 981 soldier-priests were marching through the capitol making demands. The fossilized, impotent capitol police and bureaucracy were increasingly unable to keep order and, while a separate warrior class had yet to develop, provincial military and manorial families were developing into a 'second aristocracy'. These unpolished provincials would ultimately bring [the Heian] world down in ruins.An essential guide for anyone who wants to understand the marvelous literature of the period, such as the epic novel,The Tale of Genji, or diaries like Sei Shonagon’s.
This is a good introduction to the Heian Period. Concise, but not as much fun as this book.
June 18, 2019
The Tale of Genji is a contender for World's First Novel, a contest that will never be settled because "novel" is sortof a subjective term and who cares, but Genji was written around 1000 CE which is a very long time ago indeed. It's super good, read it, and the thing is that Japan in 1000 CE was balls weird. So you're going to need some explanation of it, and what will you do, friend?
Honestly, look, you're going to read the introduction in whatever edition of Genji you pick, that'll do it, you don't really need a whole book. You almost never need a whole book. You know what you do when you want to know more about something? See if someone wrote a New Yorker article about it. (They did.)
If you want a whole shitload more, though, here it is, in the consensus best nonfiction book about the World of Genji. Does it contain spoilers? Yes. I mean, I don't feel like Genji is one of those books that's hurt a great deal by knowing the plot, but I don't know how you feel about shit like this. It's thoroughly spoiled. The other book that gets a lot of play is The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagan, which I haven't read.
Anyway I mentioned that right around 1000 CE when this book was written, over in Europe someone was coming up with Beowulf, and it would be 100% accurate in every way to say that the Heian Period in Japan is basically Beowulf except with poetry instead of swords. Its closest analogue in Western Civ is, I don't know, maybe the 1700s - Dangerous Liaisons is a fair comparison, with all its letters and intrigues and its many fuckings. What will you learn in this book that hasn't been covered by my last two amazing sentences?
You'll learn about the Fujiwara, who were sorta the Medicis of Japan. Genji's buddy To No Chujo is a Fujiwara. You'll learn that Japan at the time was basically just China's hick cousin, always less civilized and impressive and constantly ripping off all their cool styles. There's lots and lots of other stuff, yeah - I mean, look, this was a super interesting time. It's cool to learn about. I was so interested that I wanted to know way more about it. Even more, believe it or not, than I could get out of a New Yorker article.
Honestly, look, you're going to read the introduction in whatever edition of Genji you pick, that'll do it, you don't really need a whole book. You almost never need a whole book. You know what you do when you want to know more about something? See if someone wrote a New Yorker article about it. (They did.)
If you want a whole shitload more, though, here it is, in the consensus best nonfiction book about the World of Genji. Does it contain spoilers? Yes. I mean, I don't feel like Genji is one of those books that's hurt a great deal by knowing the plot, but I don't know how you feel about shit like this. It's thoroughly spoiled. The other book that gets a lot of play is The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagan, which I haven't read.
Anyway I mentioned that right around 1000 CE when this book was written, over in Europe someone was coming up with Beowulf, and it would be 100% accurate in every way to say that the Heian Period in Japan is basically Beowulf except with poetry instead of swords. Its closest analogue in Western Civ is, I don't know, maybe the 1700s - Dangerous Liaisons is a fair comparison, with all its letters and intrigues and its many fuckings. What will you learn in this book that hasn't been covered by my last two amazing sentences?
You'll learn about the Fujiwara, who were sorta the Medicis of Japan. Genji's buddy To No Chujo is a Fujiwara. You'll learn that Japan at the time was basically just China's hick cousin, always less civilized and impressive and constantly ripping off all their cool styles. There's lots and lots of other stuff, yeah - I mean, look, this was a super interesting time. It's cool to learn about. I was so interested that I wanted to know way more about it. Even more, believe it or not, than I could get out of a New Yorker article.
November 29, 2017
NOTE: If you haven't yet read "The Tale Of Genji", this book has plenty of spoilers for that - so you might wait until you've read if you hate being spoiled.
If you've read the book about, the author's diar, Sei Shonagon's "The Pillow Book" and Lady Sarashina's "As I Crossed A Bridge Of Dreams", this one is a good companion to that, giving us a picture of that world, the middle part of the Heian era, though focusing mostly on the world of the court and upper class of the capital, nowadays known as Kyoto. They are the 1% of that world, the most civilised, yet also the most weak and vulnerable - there's very little of the city of that period that still survives today (all the fires, and wars, and rebellions, etc.).
The author wrote this in 1964, which kind of shows in thoughts about women (though not so severely as it could be), plus maybe in wondering about the looks of the Heian era, and not always being right about what should be in the religion part, and what in the superstitions part of the book - but as the introduction says, it doesn't prevent us from enjoying it today.
The book chapter themes:
Plus appendixes: History timeline, On 10th century in the rest of the world, On is the Tale Of Genji complete? (the author concludes it's not, but not much was left to write), Genealogical tables (the Fujiwaras, the 'Tale' characters), Murasaki on the art of fiction, Glossary
Then a bibliography.
The book won awards and sold well, and after reading it, I can say it's all well deserved. It's honest about the good and bad sides of the Heian society, the strengths and weaknesses, and helps us understand more the world all the lady writers and the Genji character(s) lived. Well worth adding to the experience of that world, the real and that classic novel - The Tale Of Genji.
If you've read the book about, the author's diar, Sei Shonagon's "The Pillow Book" and Lady Sarashina's "As I Crossed A Bridge Of Dreams", this one is a good companion to that, giving us a picture of that world, the middle part of the Heian era, though focusing mostly on the world of the court and upper class of the capital, nowadays known as Kyoto. They are the 1% of that world, the most civilised, yet also the most weak and vulnerable - there's very little of the city of that period that still survives today (all the fires, and wars, and rebellions, etc.).
The author wrote this in 1964, which kind of shows in thoughts about women (though not so severely as it could be), plus maybe in wondering about the looks of the Heian era, and not always being right about what should be in the religion part, and what in the superstitions part of the book - but as the introduction says, it doesn't prevent us from enjoying it today.
The book chapter themes:
Plus appendixes: History timeline, On 10th century in the rest of the world, On is the Tale Of Genji complete? (the author concludes it's not, but not much was left to write), Genealogical tables (the Fujiwaras, the 'Tale' characters), Murasaki on the art of fiction, Glossary
Then a bibliography.
The book won awards and sold well, and after reading it, I can say it's all well deserved. It's honest about the good and bad sides of the Heian society, the strengths and weaknesses, and helps us understand more the world all the lady writers and the Genji character(s) lived. Well worth adding to the experience of that world, the real and that classic novel - The Tale Of Genji.
October 1, 2019
A concise social history of Japan in the Heian period, the 800s-1100, and especially the tenth century, known as the time of the Shining Prince--the prince being the hero, Prince Genji of the world's first novel, Tale of Genji. That book was written by Lady Murasaki, a lady in waiting to the Heian Empress Akiko, following a remarkably complex set of characters for a couple of generations, and is the touchstone for this social history describing the politics, religion, arts and manners of this ultimately civilized, inward aristocratic culture, largely divorced from the actual rule of the country.
I came to Heian culture not through Murasaki (I found the Tale of Genji impenetrable except in its manga/anime forms)--but through The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon (reviewed on GR), one of my very favorite books. Shonagon was a lady in waiting in the court of a rival Heian Empress--Empress Sadako, and her Pillow Book is the collection of impressions of a very keen observer, but without the monumental task and scope of the Tale of Genji. I find the extraordinary aesthetics of the Heian court mind boggling--and its concomitant disinterest in morality or anything practical so foreign, I love reading as much as I can about it.
This history solved many questions I have long had about that society--why did it fall? How could you run a country when nobles were promoted on the basis of how well they wrote poetry rather than how good they were as animinstratrators? The same with military men--generals promoted because of their artistic ability? Morris' book describes a court almost static with leisure, where the real politics, and economics, were lodged in the extra-governmental family politics of a single clan, the Fujiwaras. The World of the Shining Prince brought to life the mysterious doings of the men in their outer lives, as well as explaining why these two magnificent works, the Pillow Book and The Tale of Genji, and most of the other lasting literature of the Heian period, were all written by women.
That phenomenon seemed to arise from two sources. First, men at the time were educated in Chinese classics, were to write Chinese characters, study Chinese poets, which the women were forbidden to study--leaving the native Japanese language, phonetic Japanese characters, contemporary poetry, non-Chinese art, in the province of women. As very little original could be expressed in the moribund forms of classic Chinese, the vernacular Japanese had a freedom which luckily the women were able to exploit in these works of astonishing freshness and liveliness.
Also, in the Heian period, the economic status of noble-women was quite different than it was in the west, and women could inherit and hold land and income generating manors in their own name. This gave them more status than they would have held in a society where women could hold no wealth in their own names.
I learned much about the everyday life of the court, matters glimpsed at in the Pillow Book, but mostly incomprehensible there. All these lovers. Were they lovers? Hard to fathom without this kind of help how the culture treated the rituals and expectations of marriage, concubines, and casual sexual relationships. Extremely helpful.
Best of all, the book contextualizes the Heian cult of beauty, the be-all and end-all of the culture. What an extraordinary society. In was a culture in which beauty was morality, was religion. Every noble people could play an instrument, draw, write poetry, and they were judged quite harshly on their abilities to do so. Games evaluated the abilities of its participants. It was not enough to be able to write a poem, but they had to be written quickly, in response to occasions--like the morning-after poem which made beautiful the slightest abrupt sexual liaison. These notes would be passed around and judged. Lovers would be passed over if their calligraphy were poor--women as well as men--no matter how beautiful or desirable. In fact, the gloominess of Heian rooms and the indoor life of the women in particular meant that few people saw them at all. But their handwriting! They were their handwriting, their choice of paper, their poems.
A fascinating moment of Japanese history and culture, soon to decay and be swept away by warriors from the provinces. After reading this book, I might be emboldened to try The Tale of Genji again.
I came to Heian culture not through Murasaki (I found the Tale of Genji impenetrable except in its manga/anime forms)--but through The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon (reviewed on GR), one of my very favorite books. Shonagon was a lady in waiting in the court of a rival Heian Empress--Empress Sadako, and her Pillow Book is the collection of impressions of a very keen observer, but without the monumental task and scope of the Tale of Genji. I find the extraordinary aesthetics of the Heian court mind boggling--and its concomitant disinterest in morality or anything practical so foreign, I love reading as much as I can about it.
This history solved many questions I have long had about that society--why did it fall? How could you run a country when nobles were promoted on the basis of how well they wrote poetry rather than how good they were as animinstratrators? The same with military men--generals promoted because of their artistic ability? Morris' book describes a court almost static with leisure, where the real politics, and economics, were lodged in the extra-governmental family politics of a single clan, the Fujiwaras. The World of the Shining Prince brought to life the mysterious doings of the men in their outer lives, as well as explaining why these two magnificent works, the Pillow Book and The Tale of Genji, and most of the other lasting literature of the Heian period, were all written by women.
That phenomenon seemed to arise from two sources. First, men at the time were educated in Chinese classics, were to write Chinese characters, study Chinese poets, which the women were forbidden to study--leaving the native Japanese language, phonetic Japanese characters, contemporary poetry, non-Chinese art, in the province of women. As very little original could be expressed in the moribund forms of classic Chinese, the vernacular Japanese had a freedom which luckily the women were able to exploit in these works of astonishing freshness and liveliness.
Also, in the Heian period, the economic status of noble-women was quite different than it was in the west, and women could inherit and hold land and income generating manors in their own name. This gave them more status than they would have held in a society where women could hold no wealth in their own names.
I learned much about the everyday life of the court, matters glimpsed at in the Pillow Book, but mostly incomprehensible there. All these lovers. Were they lovers? Hard to fathom without this kind of help how the culture treated the rituals and expectations of marriage, concubines, and casual sexual relationships. Extremely helpful.
Best of all, the book contextualizes the Heian cult of beauty, the be-all and end-all of the culture. What an extraordinary society. In was a culture in which beauty was morality, was religion. Every noble people could play an instrument, draw, write poetry, and they were judged quite harshly on their abilities to do so. Games evaluated the abilities of its participants. It was not enough to be able to write a poem, but they had to be written quickly, in response to occasions--like the morning-after poem which made beautiful the slightest abrupt sexual liaison. These notes would be passed around and judged. Lovers would be passed over if their calligraphy were poor--women as well as men--no matter how beautiful or desirable. In fact, the gloominess of Heian rooms and the indoor life of the women in particular meant that few people saw them at all. But their handwriting! They were their handwriting, their choice of paper, their poems.
A fascinating moment of Japanese history and culture, soon to decay and be swept away by warriors from the provinces. After reading this book, I might be emboldened to try The Tale of Genji again.
October 8, 2010
Like many other cultural stereotypes, I associate so many negative characteristics with the Gaijin. The younger version - one that I've become all too familiar with living in Portland - is the manga-crazed-sorta-goth-teen, who just adores Japanese popular culture. I have so many issues with this type, that I just wouldn't even know where to begin. There is the overzealous foodie, who, so enamored with asian cuisine, will immerse themselves deeply in the culture just for a chance to eat more exotic food from Japan. The sort that I've become most familiar with is the cultural critic or academic Gaijin; usually white males in their fifties. Most of them, such as Donald Richie, Ivan Morris, and Donald Keene, are now either dead or in their eighties. Why is it that I think that it's so unfortunate that these are basically the men that I providing me with all of my cultural information on Japan? Because they didn't grow up in Japan. Because they're not Japanese. Because they're distant observers. Because Gaijin loosely translated, means "outside person". Of course this is just something that I'm going to have to get over. After all, I now consider myself one; not just an outside observer, but one who is interested enough in getting closer to Japan through language, culture, and books.
For the sort of person who harbors an intense and passionate amount of curiosity about the external world, eventually focusing this amount of intellectual energy on one aspect of it seems like a level-headed idea. This process aids in the global, and generally social, exchange of information and ideas that a variety of specialists seem to engage in. We can't all be William T. Vollmann. It also makes intellectual curiosity much easier to deal with, less stressful, and lends knowledge a more utilitarian aspect. At least I think that this is the case. I've chosen Japan; its language, politics, architecture, literature, art, cinema, and pastoral beauty. I've also chosen this particular country as an intellectual interest and focal point because it's a notoriously difficult culture to understand, and the spoken and written language is incredibly complex and beautiful.
I adore culture, in the most general sense. I have this natural tendency to speak in a hyper-critical manner, whether I really know what I'm talking about or not. I don't necessarily have a mathematical mind. I can understand it after enough practice and rote memorization, but it doesn't come naturally to me, or algorithmic proficiency just isn't an innate tendency that I have. Biology interests me, but hardly enough to sustain an academic career. The social sciences are just too obscure and opinion-driven to really hold enough solid motivation for me to take them seriously enough, and, I don't know, I just can't think of anything else. Learning another language seems like a pragmatic academic pursuit. More importantly, I can't imagine there being much room for made-up bullshit in the process of learning another language. I'd probably find some of that in papers on Japanese politics or literary criticism, but that's basically unavoidable. Learning this language could be put to good use, maybe in a diplomatic context?
Sure, it's more complicated than that. One doesn't merely learn another language, begin communicating overseas, and suddenly a solid cultural bridge is formed. There's history; some particularly gruesome memories between the U.S. and Japan, and the inevitable cultural divide. I'd like to strengthen this bridge though; help myself to understand as much as I can, teach other Americans what I know about Japanese language and culture, and utilize my ability to speak Japanese to share my culture with Japanese people. Of course, American Gaijins get a bad rap. We have our ancestors to speak for. Even many of our fellow citizens (who are morons) seem to think that our interest in a country such as Japan is primarily motivated by our "imperialist gaze", and they're quick to begin quoting Edward Said about our misinterpretations of the Orient, even though he was really only referring to the Middle East. That and he was just ... well ... intellectually hysterical at times. Oh, and he wasn't a very accurate historian anyway.
What I'm trying to articulate here is that I truly believe that I have a sincere interest in Japan, that is motivated by a desire to understand as much as I can about another country, and attempt to put this information to use in the most humane, selfless way possible. That, and I'm really just a huge fan. I remember when I first impulsively bought Ozu Yasujiro's The Story of Floating Weeds on a recommendation from Jim Jarmusch, and subsequently fell in love with everything about Ozu's films; from their formal perfection to their awareness*. Since then, I've cultivated a pretty sensitive palette for Japanese cinema, and I've recently begun exploring the world of Japanese literature. The first story I read was that of Life of an Amorous Woman which was translated by Ivan Morris, and preceded by a ridiculously informative introduction on the life of Japanese people during the Tokugawa period, with its four social hierarchies, rampant poverty, traveling rōnin, and feudal violence. Thanks to a recommendation from D., I picked up Morris' book on Heian period Japan.
The World of the Shining Prince is basically a literary supplement to Murasaki Shikubu's The Tale of Genji, which in and of itself is a work of fiction that provides most scholars with a majority of the information that we have on life during the Heian period. That in mind, I'd mainly recommend this book to people who are currently reading that, or have plans to do so eventually because it's a notoriously difficult narrative to follow, and an understanding of the marriage politics, role of female writers, and the idleness of court life is sort of essential information if you really want to enjoy the full extent of Murasaki's artistic prowess.
Also, I've always found Morris, as literary critic, wonderfully concise and perceptive. He contributes so much to the West's comprehension of Japanese literature and history with the wisest, self-deprecating skepticism. His writing is completely confident, yet he's also aware of the difficulty inherent in attempting to translate the meaning and context of a work so invariably obscure to so many people. The writing is great too, as I've always enjoyed his prose. Here is an excellent example of Morris paraphrasing the aspect of otherworldly salvation to be found in the practice of Buddhism.
"Having presented a thoroughly unattractive picture of the physical world and the human condition, Buddhism offered a solution. If the origin of universal suffering was desire, and if this was inseparable from normal life, then the only answer was to abandon the fleeting world of sorrow (shaba) and thereby to eliminate desire, above all the desire for individual survival."
To recapitulate the content and information of this book would be beyond tedium, but it's such a quick read if you're interested in the subject matter. Ultimately, Morris' book will aid in heightening the experience of reading the work of Murasaki and Shōnagon (even Lady Sarashina). And it's relatively devoid of Genji plot spoilers, which probably won't make a difference anyway because I can only assume that one only truly remembers the actual plot of that book after reading it at least four or five times. In other words, trust me, you need help.
*See the one footnote to my review of Japan Journals by Donald Richie.
For the sort of person who harbors an intense and passionate amount of curiosity about the external world, eventually focusing this amount of intellectual energy on one aspect of it seems like a level-headed idea. This process aids in the global, and generally social, exchange of information and ideas that a variety of specialists seem to engage in. We can't all be William T. Vollmann. It also makes intellectual curiosity much easier to deal with, less stressful, and lends knowledge a more utilitarian aspect. At least I think that this is the case. I've chosen Japan; its language, politics, architecture, literature, art, cinema, and pastoral beauty. I've also chosen this particular country as an intellectual interest and focal point because it's a notoriously difficult culture to understand, and the spoken and written language is incredibly complex and beautiful.
I adore culture, in the most general sense. I have this natural tendency to speak in a hyper-critical manner, whether I really know what I'm talking about or not. I don't necessarily have a mathematical mind. I can understand it after enough practice and rote memorization, but it doesn't come naturally to me, or algorithmic proficiency just isn't an innate tendency that I have. Biology interests me, but hardly enough to sustain an academic career. The social sciences are just too obscure and opinion-driven to really hold enough solid motivation for me to take them seriously enough, and, I don't know, I just can't think of anything else. Learning another language seems like a pragmatic academic pursuit. More importantly, I can't imagine there being much room for made-up bullshit in the process of learning another language. I'd probably find some of that in papers on Japanese politics or literary criticism, but that's basically unavoidable. Learning this language could be put to good use, maybe in a diplomatic context?
Sure, it's more complicated than that. One doesn't merely learn another language, begin communicating overseas, and suddenly a solid cultural bridge is formed. There's history; some particularly gruesome memories between the U.S. and Japan, and the inevitable cultural divide. I'd like to strengthen this bridge though; help myself to understand as much as I can, teach other Americans what I know about Japanese language and culture, and utilize my ability to speak Japanese to share my culture with Japanese people. Of course, American Gaijins get a bad rap. We have our ancestors to speak for. Even many of our fellow citizens (who are morons) seem to think that our interest in a country such as Japan is primarily motivated by our "imperialist gaze", and they're quick to begin quoting Edward Said about our misinterpretations of the Orient, even though he was really only referring to the Middle East. That and he was just ... well ... intellectually hysterical at times. Oh, and he wasn't a very accurate historian anyway.
What I'm trying to articulate here is that I truly believe that I have a sincere interest in Japan, that is motivated by a desire to understand as much as I can about another country, and attempt to put this information to use in the most humane, selfless way possible. That, and I'm really just a huge fan. I remember when I first impulsively bought Ozu Yasujiro's The Story of Floating Weeds on a recommendation from Jim Jarmusch, and subsequently fell in love with everything about Ozu's films; from their formal perfection to their awareness*. Since then, I've cultivated a pretty sensitive palette for Japanese cinema, and I've recently begun exploring the world of Japanese literature. The first story I read was that of Life of an Amorous Woman which was translated by Ivan Morris, and preceded by a ridiculously informative introduction on the life of Japanese people during the Tokugawa period, with its four social hierarchies, rampant poverty, traveling rōnin, and feudal violence. Thanks to a recommendation from D., I picked up Morris' book on Heian period Japan.
The World of the Shining Prince is basically a literary supplement to Murasaki Shikubu's The Tale of Genji, which in and of itself is a work of fiction that provides most scholars with a majority of the information that we have on life during the Heian period. That in mind, I'd mainly recommend this book to people who are currently reading that, or have plans to do so eventually because it's a notoriously difficult narrative to follow, and an understanding of the marriage politics, role of female writers, and the idleness of court life is sort of essential information if you really want to enjoy the full extent of Murasaki's artistic prowess.
Also, I've always found Morris, as literary critic, wonderfully concise and perceptive. He contributes so much to the West's comprehension of Japanese literature and history with the wisest, self-deprecating skepticism. His writing is completely confident, yet he's also aware of the difficulty inherent in attempting to translate the meaning and context of a work so invariably obscure to so many people. The writing is great too, as I've always enjoyed his prose. Here is an excellent example of Morris paraphrasing the aspect of otherworldly salvation to be found in the practice of Buddhism.
"Having presented a thoroughly unattractive picture of the physical world and the human condition, Buddhism offered a solution. If the origin of universal suffering was desire, and if this was inseparable from normal life, then the only answer was to abandon the fleeting world of sorrow (shaba) and thereby to eliminate desire, above all the desire for individual survival."
To recapitulate the content and information of this book would be beyond tedium, but it's such a quick read if you're interested in the subject matter. Ultimately, Morris' book will aid in heightening the experience of reading the work of Murasaki and Shōnagon (even Lady Sarashina). And it's relatively devoid of Genji plot spoilers, which probably won't make a difference anyway because I can only assume that one only truly remembers the actual plot of that book after reading it at least four or five times. In other words, trust me, you need help.
*See the one footnote to my review of Japan Journals by Donald Richie.
May 3, 2013
Reading “The World of the Shining Prince” by Ivan Morris was definitely illuminating since its readers would better understand the world of Prince Genji, the prince in question, as portrayed by Murasaki Shikubu in her classic “The Tale of Genji” set in Japan’s Heian Period in the tenth century. Indeed, this “standard in cultural studies for nearly thirty years” (back cover) should be a must to those going to read, reading or having read the classic; one of the reasons is that this formidable book categorized in the History/Literature genre has been clearly written with innumerable references cited from Japanese works as well as other languages. Moreover, Dr Morris a professor in Japanese studies himself has translated some imminent Japanese works into English, for instance, Yukio Mishima’s “Temple of the Golden Pavilion,” Ihira Saikaku’s “The Life of an Amorous Woman,” Shohei Ooka’s “Fires on the Plain”, etc. His Japanese scholarship, therefore, could rest assured to those Japanese literature enthusiasts regarding his Japanese authority; however, writing this book seems formidable to us because, first published in 1964, it was and is unthinkable to write such a standard depicting events, episodes, contexts, etc. on ancient Japan a millennium ago that needed to make it accessible to those interested in The Tale in the 20th century and beyond.
Incidentally, its readers may raise a query in relation to its title, that is, “Why Shining Prince?” Soon after reading around two thirds of the World, a solution can be found out based on this excerpt cited partly, “… As Genji danced, the rays of the setting sun fell on his body, and at that moment the music swelled up in a crescendo. It was a brilliant climax. Familiar though the dance was to the onlookers, they felt that never before had there been such loveliness of movement and expression; and the accompanying song seemed as melodious as the music of the Kalavinka birds in Buddha’s Paradise. … Excited by the rhythm of the steps, he glowed with a warm colour, and the name “Genji the Shining One” seemed even more fitting than usual.” (pp. 190-191)
Surprisingly, I found this part under the title “EXTRACTS FROM THE COURT CALENDAR” in the Fourth Month amazing because this excerpt has informed me on Japanese Vesak (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vesak) and reminded me of its possible first trace of partial similarity to Songkran as a Buddhist festival in some Southeast Asian countries (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Songkran):
Eighth Day: The Washing of the Buddha
In commemoration of the Buddha’s birth, a gilt statue of the Buddha and a representation of the scene of his birth are offered to His Majesty. In the Palace, priests pay their respects to the statue; then, while intoning words of praise, they pour coloured water on the statue’s head. The Court Nobles also pour water over the statue, make obeisance, and withdraw in a leftward turn. Similar ceremonies are carried out in the temples and private residences. (p. 160)
Moreover, a Japanese title “Ajari” (p. 121) meaning 'Holy Teacher' in the Tendai and Shingon sects has shed more light on me because its pronunciation is nearly similar to a Thai title “อาจารย์” widely used in addressing respectfully to senior Buddhist monks or teachers in higher education and informally in other levels. In fact, the title “อาจารย์” has long been adopted and used in Buddhist monastic and academic circles from the Pali 'acariya' commonly spelled “Acharya” meaning “teacher” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acharya#...).
In brief, this book is essential to serious readers of “The Tale of Genji” translated from Japanese since it is definitely one of the most informative books on 10th century Japan written to be readably understandable and appreciated by one of the outstanding Japanese scholars whose works we learn to enjoy reading now and in the years to come.
Incidentally, its readers may raise a query in relation to its title, that is, “Why Shining Prince?” Soon after reading around two thirds of the World, a solution can be found out based on this excerpt cited partly, “… As Genji danced, the rays of the setting sun fell on his body, and at that moment the music swelled up in a crescendo. It was a brilliant climax. Familiar though the dance was to the onlookers, they felt that never before had there been such loveliness of movement and expression; and the accompanying song seemed as melodious as the music of the Kalavinka birds in Buddha’s Paradise. … Excited by the rhythm of the steps, he glowed with a warm colour, and the name “Genji the Shining One” seemed even more fitting than usual.” (pp. 190-191)
Surprisingly, I found this part under the title “EXTRACTS FROM THE COURT CALENDAR” in the Fourth Month amazing because this excerpt has informed me on Japanese Vesak (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vesak) and reminded me of its possible first trace of partial similarity to Songkran as a Buddhist festival in some Southeast Asian countries (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Songkran):
Eighth Day: The Washing of the Buddha
In commemoration of the Buddha’s birth, a gilt statue of the Buddha and a representation of the scene of his birth are offered to His Majesty. In the Palace, priests pay their respects to the statue; then, while intoning words of praise, they pour coloured water on the statue’s head. The Court Nobles also pour water over the statue, make obeisance, and withdraw in a leftward turn. Similar ceremonies are carried out in the temples and private residences. (p. 160)
Moreover, a Japanese title “Ajari” (p. 121) meaning 'Holy Teacher' in the Tendai and Shingon sects has shed more light on me because its pronunciation is nearly similar to a Thai title “อาจารย์” widely used in addressing respectfully to senior Buddhist monks or teachers in higher education and informally in other levels. In fact, the title “อาจารย์” has long been adopted and used in Buddhist monastic and academic circles from the Pali 'acariya' commonly spelled “Acharya” meaning “teacher” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acharya#...).
In brief, this book is essential to serious readers of “The Tale of Genji” translated from Japanese since it is definitely one of the most informative books on 10th century Japan written to be readably understandable and appreciated by one of the outstanding Japanese scholars whose works we learn to enjoy reading now and in the years to come.
April 3, 2016
There are lots of positive reviews of this on GR, so allow me to present the view for the prosecution. Morris's book is occasionally interesting, but there's very little here that you can't get better from reading the introductions and notes to the various Heian diaries, as well as the diaries themselves. Shining Prince is also a real period piece. It was first published in 1964, and reads like it was first published in some mythical 1954 when White People (other than Ivan Morris, of course) thought The Nips were all Emperor crazed psychopaths just waiting to Kamikaze down from the skies. If you think that, this book will be a very useful corrective. If you have a minimal understanding of history, however, you don't need to read this book. And oddly, if you don't have a minimal understanding of history, this book will be infuriating, because Morris feels obliged to explain the Heian period by comparing it to specific moments in European history. Was this like the Sun King? Yes and no. Was it like this German Emperor's court? Not really. Was it like the Medici?
Don't even get me started on the division he makes between "religion" and "superstition," which would be foreign to the entirety of the world's population outside protestant modernity.
None of this is really Morris' fault; he was writing for a specific audience. The educated layman (definitely 'man') of his time probably knew all about the Medici, and probably knew nothing about Japan. I suspect the educated layperson of our time is more likely to know about Japan than to have the kind of knowledge of European history needed to made all the analogies comprehensible.
Anyway, to restate: if you want to prepare yourself for Genji, which was my purpose in reading this book, you're better off reading the diaries in any responsible edition. Then cherry pick here. The chapters on religion (and "superstition") aren't bad, that on the cult of beauty is worth reading, and the chapter on the emperors might be worth looking at. Everything else you can get elsewhere without the 1950s baggage (again, I'm not accusing Morris of being racist or anything; the problem is that the audience he was writing to doesn't really exist anymore, and if it does, it shouldn't).
Don't even get me started on the division he makes between "religion" and "superstition," which would be foreign to the entirety of the world's population outside protestant modernity.
None of this is really Morris' fault; he was writing for a specific audience. The educated layman (definitely 'man') of his time probably knew all about the Medici, and probably knew nothing about Japan. I suspect the educated layperson of our time is more likely to know about Japan than to have the kind of knowledge of European history needed to made all the analogies comprehensible.
Anyway, to restate: if you want to prepare yourself for Genji, which was my purpose in reading this book, you're better off reading the diaries in any responsible edition. Then cherry pick here. The chapters on religion (and "superstition") aren't bad, that on the cult of beauty is worth reading, and the chapter on the emperors might be worth looking at. Everything else you can get elsewhere without the 1950s baggage (again, I'm not accusing Morris of being racist or anything; the problem is that the audience he was writing to doesn't really exist anymore, and if it does, it shouldn't).
August 25, 2023
A useful book for those who want to read Heian Japanese classics with something like understanding, but it's worth bearing in mind that Ivan Morris was born in Britain in 1925 and spent his life teaching Japanese literature at the university level; this of course informs his discourse, as they say in literature classes. His personal prejudices show at every turn--oddly, in spite of a lifetime studying the period, he doesn't seem to like the Heian aristocracy much, except as a way to point up how superior his own culture was in 1964, when the book was published. He is so very snarky about the men wearing facepowder and perfume, while merrily forgetting the powdered wigs, makeup, patches and perfumes used by 18th-century European nobles. As for the use of incense and scent, which for Morris seems to be damning evidence of "femininity" (shock! horror!) on the part of Heian noblemen--at least they were trying to cover up any unpleasant effluvia, which is more than the European populace was doing at the time. He can't help sneering at the Japanese "lack of scientific knowledge"; well, how much of that did Europe have in the ninth century? Yet over a thousand years ago in Heian Kyo a very sophisticated culture of paper (the right texture, colour and fold for the proper purpose) as well as dyes, incenses and perfumes was already in place, not to mention the use of the water clock, which Morris buries under the term "clepsydra", ignoring the technological marvel it was for the period, particularly compared to what 10th-century Europe was using to tell time: the sun. He neglects to remember that the mechanical timepiece was not used in Britain until the late 12th century.
The book would have been much improved by the inclusion of a few simple maps and line-drawings of the layout of the city, articles of dress, and houses, particularly as I find it impossible to visualise maps etc. Fortunately, I own a copy of Meredith McKinney's outstanding translation of The Pillow Book which includes at least a few simple illustrations.
I wonder how much Dr Morris knew or understood of Buddhism, Shinto or Zen; he repeatedly refers to Buddhist beliefs as "chilling" (without really explaining why he finds them so; however he doesn't appear to reckon much to Christianity, either), as well as continually talking of the "Buddhist church/clergyman". There's rather a difference between the generic term "cleric" and the C of E word "clergyman", and as a translator Morris should have known that. Perhaps he did. Never mind; he also seems to consider Confucianism a religion instead of an ethical system--and yes, there is a difference. The chapter he heads "Superstitions" helped me understand the concept of directional taboos; I wondered how he would have reacted to the modern respect for many aspects of traditional Asian medicine, particularly acupuncture. (He probably would have been horrified.) ETA: I spent and interesting evening comparing Heian paintings of people and horses with 10th century English art. Guess who won.
I'm glad to be forewarned that the ending of The Tale of Genji is apparently abrupt, because the author may have died before the manuscript was finished. The discussion of the evolution of the Japanese language from the 9th century to today was interesting, but I flat down refuse to believe that a notable Japanese scholar would actually prefer Arthur Waley's English translation of the book to the original! No, sorry, Dr Morris, I'm not buying that one. I don't know of a single English literature scholar who prefers to read Shakespeare in German, either.
Which brings me to a few yowls about Morris' own writing; like so many members of academia of his time (and a few today), he feels the need to use very abstruse language from time to time, lest we forget that he's a full professor. One moment he says that an idea is "completely off the mark", the next we are told that "The reader may find such questions otiose." Well, the reader might--if he or she had any idea what the word meant! Personally, I had to Google it, as it is nowhere in my various dictionaries. Apparently it means "useless or unnecessary"--rather like using "otiose" in a sentence. Let alone telling us that the ladies' "lustrations were rendered nugatory." Which, being interpreted, means that all their offerings were for nothing. Silly me, I thought that teaching was about communicating information or wisdom, not obfuscating it to make yourself look smarter than the average bear.
A book to be read slowly, not devoured. Four stars for content and layout, three and a half for the author's condescending attitudes.
The book would have been much improved by the inclusion of a few simple maps and line-drawings of the layout of the city, articles of dress, and houses, particularly as I find it impossible to visualise maps etc. Fortunately, I own a copy of Meredith McKinney's outstanding translation of The Pillow Book which includes at least a few simple illustrations.
I wonder how much Dr Morris knew or understood of Buddhism, Shinto or Zen; he repeatedly refers to Buddhist beliefs as "chilling" (without really explaining why he finds them so; however he doesn't appear to reckon much to Christianity, either), as well as continually talking of the "Buddhist church/clergyman". There's rather a difference between the generic term "cleric" and the C of E word "clergyman", and as a translator Morris should have known that. Perhaps he did. Never mind; he also seems to consider Confucianism a religion instead of an ethical system--and yes, there is a difference. The chapter he heads "Superstitions" helped me understand the concept of directional taboos; I wondered how he would have reacted to the modern respect for many aspects of traditional Asian medicine, particularly acupuncture. (He probably would have been horrified.) ETA: I spent and interesting evening comparing Heian paintings of people and horses with 10th century English art. Guess who won.
I'm glad to be forewarned that the ending of The Tale of Genji is apparently abrupt, because the author may have died before the manuscript was finished. The discussion of the evolution of the Japanese language from the 9th century to today was interesting, but I flat down refuse to believe that a notable Japanese scholar would actually prefer Arthur Waley's English translation of the book to the original! No, sorry, Dr Morris, I'm not buying that one. I don't know of a single English literature scholar who prefers to read Shakespeare in German, either.
Which brings me to a few yowls about Morris' own writing; like so many members of academia of his time (and a few today), he feels the need to use very abstruse language from time to time, lest we forget that he's a full professor. One moment he says that an idea is "completely off the mark", the next we are told that "The reader may find such questions otiose." Well, the reader might--if he or she had any idea what the word meant! Personally, I had to Google it, as it is nowhere in my various dictionaries. Apparently it means "useless or unnecessary"--rather like using "otiose" in a sentence. Let alone telling us that the ladies' "lustrations were rendered nugatory." Which, being interpreted, means that all their offerings were for nothing. Silly me, I thought that teaching was about communicating information or wisdom, not obfuscating it to make yourself look smarter than the average bear.
A book to be read slowly, not devoured. Four stars for content and layout, three and a half for the author's condescending attitudes.
June 4, 2016
"The Tale of Genji" strikes me as one of the most difficult of the classics and not just because of its length. That heightened sensitivity to colors, seasons, and aromas, the emphasis on personal beauty (and the cruelty visited upon those who do not enjoy it), the endless writing of poems that seem like slight adjustments to existing ones, and the endless romance, pining away and gossip--this was a past in which people did things (to the extent that they did do things) very differently. Yet I cannot deny the power of Lady Murasaki's sensibility (especially since I read the Arthur Waley translation, which apparently makes the poems even more wistful than the original). Ivan Morris' "The World of the Shining Prince" clarifies a lot of the customs that seem quite odd: the Emperors who were often children, had no real power, and abdicated at relatively young ages; the consequences of and attitudes toward endemic infidelity; the mix of native religious ideas with a Buddhism very different from the modest and detached eightfold path that Siddhartha himself developed; the way women were hidden but also aggressively courted, at times stalked. Morris' discussion of the sect of Tendai Buddhism is the only one I have read that makes it at all understandable. It is worth knowing what a small world this was, geographically and socially, and that the great aristocrats generally had time to devote to their endless affairs and cult of sensitivity, not just because the Fujiwara clan attended to state business but even more so because the vast peasantry, unseen by Murasaki and the members of her exalted sphere, kept them in rice, exquisite clothing, and the precisely right type of paper for their poems. (Although those same exhausted peasants were not permitted to consume so much as fish or wine). Some time has passed since Morris published this book, and some of it creaks with age, not just the much-maligned distinction he makes between religion and superstition, but also the almost Victorian attitude that surfaces from time to time when discussing sex. For all that, this book clarifies much of the rarified society of the book, and acquaints the reader with many of its more puzzling ideas and customs. For me, there remain two great mysteries (and many lesser ones) about Murasaki and her intent--first, the sudden dispatch of the hero of the book with a brief if mournful comment. And second, what she really thought about all these affairs. Morris quotes portions of her diary in which she noted her use of her wits to escape the attention of a powerful courtier and argues for her greater serious over her more gossipy contemporary, Sei Shonagon. To me (again, in Waley's translation) there are hints of a veiled anger at the situation of women as perpetually wronged wives (one of whom is considered at least slightly mad for reacting to her abandonment), women whose jealousy is positively lethal (Lady Rokujo's unconscious jealousy causes the death of Genji's wife, an episode that became a staple of theater), and wives considered secondary because of their relatively lowly birth, like Murasaki the character in the novel. In the discussion of Buddhism, remarking on the intense misogyny of the Tendai sect, Morris notes Genji's reaction to Rokujo's ghost ("all women are fundamentally evil") and that Ukifune's mother laments having been born a woman. Murasaki wrote a very long and subtle novel, often cited as the first psychological one. Surely she did not write the lines she gave to Genji and to Ukifune's mother without being aware of their implications, and not knowing that they can be read in more than one way.
June 30, 2024
I'm going to need Mr. Ivan Morris to go ahead and write a book like this for every major work of classic literature that I'm interested in reading.
1 star for writing: Clear, concise, and his vocabulary is fire.
1 star for research quality
1 star for premise: I just think having material like this to explain cultural milieu, historical context, etc. is so helpful.
1 star for impact: I don't recommend wading into "The Tale of Genji" without it.
1 star for personal taste: I have to admit, I enjoyed every single chapter. Morris kept me interested from start to finish and that's not something I experience often when reading non-fiction.
1 star for writing: Clear, concise, and his vocabulary is fire.
1 star for research quality
1 star for premise: I just think having material like this to explain cultural milieu, historical context, etc. is so helpful.
1 star for impact: I don't recommend wading into "The Tale of Genji" without it.
1 star for personal taste: I have to admit, I enjoyed every single chapter. Morris kept me interested from start to finish and that's not something I experience often when reading non-fiction.
Read
January 7, 2019I don't think it's fair for me to give this a star rating because all of the information is new to me, and I can't critically evaluate it. I read it to give me an idea of the context of the world in which The Tale of Genji exists, as I'm reading it currently, and for that this book did the job quite well. It does have a whiff of "1960s-white-man-pontificates" about it, and the chapters on religion vs superstition and gender show his attempt to try to "understand" ancient Japanese culture via Western ideologies, and in doing so, reveal his limits of thinking about the world from the viewpoint of accepted Western ideas. But really, that can't be helped--it was a book written at a particular time for a particular audience. Still, an illuminating and a useful companion read for those who want supplementary reading as they make their way through Genji. I found "The Cult of Beauty" section in particular to be eye-opening.
March 29, 2022
Occasionally Morris is overly opinionated (the chapter on Shintoism). However, most of the book was a dream introduction, an erudite chat, written by one avid reader for another. He takes the time to give an illuminating discussion of what it is like to read the work in Heian Japanese. He is just the sort of writer to appreciate and share what was my favorite moment in his book, an engaging quotation from the SarashinaDiary, written by a young woman who had been able to read only some of the early chapters of the The Tale of Genji: "In my prayers I used to say, 'Let me see the whole!"[At last a perceptive aunt provides her with a copy and several other books as well. } "Oh how happy I was when I came home with all these books in a bag! In the past I had only been able to have an occasional flurried look at parts . . . . Now I had it all in front of me and I could lie undisturbed behind my screen, taking the book out one by one and enjoying them to my heart's content. I wouldn't have changed places with he Empress herself."
October 30, 2014
When I was giving up on Genji I read a review that said this was essential co-reading. Now that I’ve read it I feel ready to tackle Lady Murasaki again, with more understanding.
This is about a 3.75, so perhaps I should give it a 4. Morris devotes a chapter to each of several cultural topics that illuminate the daily life of the Japanese upper crust of the tenth century: religion, superstition, the cult of beauty and the poignant, politics, class, relations between women and men. Well written.
This is about a 3.75, so perhaps I should give it a 4. Morris devotes a chapter to each of several cultural topics that illuminate the daily life of the Japanese upper crust of the tenth century: religion, superstition, the cult of beauty and the poignant, politics, class, relations between women and men. Well written.
December 24, 2007
This is the most beautifully written work of non-fiction that I have ever read. The perfect companion to "The Tale Of Genji". This work explains much of the Heian period that Genji was created from and puts into context this and other writings of the time in Japan. I learned a great deal about the era and the culture of ancient Japan. Love this book!
February 3, 2015
I read this before a trip to Japan to work on an art exhibition in Nara, the 8th century capital. It was the perfect preparation.
April 30, 2018
Let me start with warding off people who probably would not enjoy reading this..This book is not for you, IF :
- You don't have slightest interest in medieval Japanese history. Or for that matter, any history..
- You are expecting this book to throw some light on current Japanese culture. It doesn't. This is a tome of a bygone age. It isn't like the Romans and the Greeks, who had much to pass on to the posterity (economics, politics, culture). The Heian Period of 10th century Japan, which was far removed from the shared trends observed across histories, did pass on the one thing it upheld above everything else. It's CULTURE.
- You do not intend to read any of the books alluded to inside this one. Namely, The Pillow Book, The Tale of Genji, The Sarashina Diary etc. Not that reading this would be without meaning if one doesn't read the said works. But in my opinion it would be an incomplete experience. Which reminds me, if you are a strict "NO-SPOILER" kinda reader, you might not wanna read this along side your choice of fiction. The book does heavily allude to some of these works. Reading this book alongside one of the said works would be a better experience, nevertheless..
- You are short on the commodity called PATIENCE. Yes, this is a history book. But NO, there are no wars and exploits and other racy stuff one might expect. Imagine you are watching a narcissistic sloth looking at its reflection in a puddle of water, seemingly enjoying it. Now that imagery may raise some brows, but unless you have a lot of patience you won't stick around in hopes of some unique antics. The sloth, narcissist or no, sure as hell won't budge anytime soon. So get ready for some slow pace revelations. This is court life we are talking about. In a culture predisposed towards immense reserves and etiquette. If you are runnin n gunnin kinda person, this is not for you..
Well, if you are still interested, I assume you do not belong to the above categories. And this brings me to myself, because I didn't either. As to why I read this is anyone's guess. First off, I am avidly interested in the Japanese culture. Medieval, ancient, contemporary, anything goes. Second reason would be coming across The Tale of Genji , heralded as the world's first novel. That sealed the deal for me. It's been two years since I came across Genji and I have been through the whole gamut :
First hurdle: "Which translation to read?"
Picking one after combing reviews and be like, "This will take me like 20 days to plow through. Bring it on, world's first novel!"
After two days, "Nothing makes sense! And who the hell is the speaker in this dialogue?"
After 5 days, "Maybe this isn't for me."
After 8 months with renewed vigour, "Let me try again. This time with another translation. Maybe it's the translation and not me!"
After 2 days, "This is making me doubt my English comprehension skills"
After 5 days..........and on and on..
It's a sad story, trust me. And yet, I am still here. I can't get the itch out of my head. Not to mention my plans to tackle Clavell have been delayed due to this rigmarole..
But, THE GOOD NEWS IS : I am not in the rut anymore!!! I picked up Genji again and this time I started reading this book on the side. Never looking back again. And I know for sure now that it is not the book or its translations or my English skills which were at fault. It was the approach..Tackling Heian history is no piece of cake. The fictional works jump right into the middle of action with no peek whatsoever at the why and how of the society at the time. This is where The World of the Shining Prince: Court Life in Ancient Japan comes to the much needed rescue..
Yes it is slow paced, but that's what allows things to sink in better. The 10th century aristocratic Japan with all its eccentricities, the gender divide, the unique culture and beliefs is intriguing as hell. You must have heard of divide and conquer. Enter the Heian age, where it is aptly rephrased to "marry and conquer" . I have a better analogy. What Gold is to Lannisters, Daughters are to Fujiwaras. Do read the book to know more about this family. There is no talk of treacherous plans or assassinations in court crevices, but the ruthless politics behind the facade of etiquette and decorum makes the reader aware of the controlling force that runs the imperial court. Yes, there was some politics involved. But almost all of it was a front to rank hogging inside the court structure. Hardly anything related to actual governance. But despite all that, a period that lasted close to four centuries without any bloody wars and invasions to boast of is bound to leave impressions unknown elsewhere. Here's a little tidbit to further pique the interest :
He performed the following remarkable genealogical feat: he was father-in-law of two emperors, grandfather of a third, grandfather and great-grandfather of a fourth, grandfather and father-in-law of a fifth.
Now if that curveball doesn't intrigue you enough to pick this up right away, I don't know what else will. And that's just one example. The book is replete with much more. Why the people of the court talk as they do? Why was polygamy allowed? How were these seemingly lazy and hedonistic people earning their keep {Hint : Rice}? Why having a good hand-writing was as important as having good looks while courting? Phew! Almost makes one wish for the history to remain just that..a HISTORY. Extremely FUN to read about. Damn nigh INFURIATING to live in!!
Furthermore, the book offers the key to the fatalistic turn of mind of the aristocracy, drawn upon heavily in the Heian literature. Ain't that cute?! The aristocracy had EVERYTHING, literally everything they could ask for. They weren't even governing or travelling far and wide (which by the way, was a big NO-NO). 40 miles from the capital was tantamount to EXILE to these frivolous SOBs. If they weren't wining, dining and whoring around, they were most definitely just staring into space or composing some form of art or playing games. Most of which had flirtatious connotations. And yet, having WINE and WOMEN was apparently not enough. So they added on the WOES. One had to be occasionally sad to be deemed a true aristocrat. Fancy getting dissed for not being melancholic enough!
It talks in length about the superstitions and beliefs which are intricately linked to the day-to-day lives of people. How intricate? Imagine taking a 5 mile detour to your lover standing on the other side of the road. No, you can't cross over, because a God is in your path. Making it taboo to walk all over him/her. Ofcourse, duh! Like I didn't know that already!
Believe me, there is much more to Heian aristocracy than the choicest bits I have let through here..Which is why I would strongly suggest reading this book along with the fictional work of your choice from the same period ..It will put the facts of this book in a functioning albeit fictional setting, giving one the chance to experience epiphanies as the once unfathomable plot twists become clear..
There are tons of things I can talk about after reading this book. It does a praiseworthy job of providing a glimpse of the Heian world. I am still far from finishing Genji, but I am making good progress this time around. I have a better grasp of the characters, their actions and situations. The link to the "why" of every action is no longer missing, and I am able to relate to the events. All thanks to this book.
But one of the important things to keep in mind is that, this book is the interpretation of the Heian period as gleaned by Morris from surviving literature and other cultural paraphernalia..Not much of which exists in present day..Not all of his interpretations can be called completely accurate or his distinctions unbiased..He cites references to several works and what we have in our hands is his treatise..no doubt bearing nuances of his own disposition..Despite all that, I still commend his work as an approachable guide to the awe-inspiring territory of ancient Japan..I wish I had come across it sooner..It was worth my time..I plowed through it after reeling in the clarity it provides..now I hope to get through Genji :) Hoping to add it to my read-list soon!!
- You don't have slightest interest in medieval Japanese history. Or for that matter, any history..
- You are expecting this book to throw some light on current Japanese culture. It doesn't. This is a tome of a bygone age. It isn't like the Romans and the Greeks, who had much to pass on to the posterity (economics, politics, culture). The Heian Period of 10th century Japan, which was far removed from the shared trends observed across histories, did pass on the one thing it upheld above everything else. It's CULTURE.
- You do not intend to read any of the books alluded to inside this one. Namely, The Pillow Book, The Tale of Genji, The Sarashina Diary etc. Not that reading this would be without meaning if one doesn't read the said works. But in my opinion it would be an incomplete experience. Which reminds me, if you are a strict "NO-SPOILER" kinda reader, you might not wanna read this along side your choice of fiction. The book does heavily allude to some of these works. Reading this book alongside one of the said works would be a better experience, nevertheless..
- You are short on the commodity called PATIENCE. Yes, this is a history book. But NO, there are no wars and exploits and other racy stuff one might expect. Imagine you are watching a narcissistic sloth looking at its reflection in a puddle of water, seemingly enjoying it. Now that imagery may raise some brows, but unless you have a lot of patience you won't stick around in hopes of some unique antics. The sloth, narcissist or no, sure as hell won't budge anytime soon. So get ready for some slow pace revelations. This is court life we are talking about. In a culture predisposed towards immense reserves and etiquette. If you are runnin n gunnin kinda person, this is not for you..
Well, if you are still interested, I assume you do not belong to the above categories. And this brings me to myself, because I didn't either. As to why I read this is anyone's guess. First off, I am avidly interested in the Japanese culture. Medieval, ancient, contemporary, anything goes. Second reason would be coming across The Tale of Genji , heralded as the world's first novel. That sealed the deal for me. It's been two years since I came across Genji and I have been through the whole gamut :
First hurdle: "Which translation to read?"
Picking one after combing reviews and be like, "This will take me like 20 days to plow through. Bring it on, world's first novel!"
After two days, "Nothing makes sense! And who the hell is the speaker in this dialogue?"
After 5 days, "Maybe this isn't for me."
After 8 months with renewed vigour, "Let me try again. This time with another translation. Maybe it's the translation and not me!"
After 2 days, "This is making me doubt my English comprehension skills"
After 5 days..........and on and on..
It's a sad story, trust me. And yet, I am still here. I can't get the itch out of my head. Not to mention my plans to tackle Clavell have been delayed due to this rigmarole..
But, THE GOOD NEWS IS : I am not in the rut anymore!!! I picked up Genji again and this time I started reading this book on the side. Never looking back again. And I know for sure now that it is not the book or its translations or my English skills which were at fault. It was the approach..Tackling Heian history is no piece of cake. The fictional works jump right into the middle of action with no peek whatsoever at the why and how of the society at the time. This is where The World of the Shining Prince: Court Life in Ancient Japan comes to the much needed rescue..
Yes it is slow paced, but that's what allows things to sink in better. The 10th century aristocratic Japan with all its eccentricities, the gender divide, the unique culture and beliefs is intriguing as hell. You must have heard of divide and conquer. Enter the Heian age, where it is aptly rephrased to "marry and conquer" . I have a better analogy. What Gold is to Lannisters, Daughters are to Fujiwaras. Do read the book to know more about this family. There is no talk of treacherous plans or assassinations in court crevices, but the ruthless politics behind the facade of etiquette and decorum makes the reader aware of the controlling force that runs the imperial court. Yes, there was some politics involved. But almost all of it was a front to rank hogging inside the court structure. Hardly anything related to actual governance. But despite all that, a period that lasted close to four centuries without any bloody wars and invasions to boast of is bound to leave impressions unknown elsewhere. Here's a little tidbit to further pique the interest :
He performed the following remarkable genealogical feat: he was father-in-law of two emperors, grandfather of a third, grandfather and great-grandfather of a fourth, grandfather and father-in-law of a fifth.
Now if that curveball doesn't intrigue you enough to pick this up right away, I don't know what else will. And that's just one example. The book is replete with much more. Why the people of the court talk as they do? Why was polygamy allowed? How were these seemingly lazy and hedonistic people earning their keep {Hint : Rice}? Why having a good hand-writing was as important as having good looks while courting? Phew! Almost makes one wish for the history to remain just that..a HISTORY. Extremely FUN to read about. Damn nigh INFURIATING to live in!!
Furthermore, the book offers the key to the fatalistic turn of mind of the aristocracy, drawn upon heavily in the Heian literature. Ain't that cute?! The aristocracy had EVERYTHING, literally everything they could ask for. They weren't even governing or travelling far and wide (which by the way, was a big NO-NO). 40 miles from the capital was tantamount to EXILE to these frivolous SOBs. If they weren't wining, dining and whoring around, they were most definitely just staring into space or composing some form of art or playing games. Most of which had flirtatious connotations. And yet, having WINE and WOMEN was apparently not enough. So they added on the WOES. One had to be occasionally sad to be deemed a true aristocrat. Fancy getting dissed for not being melancholic enough!
It talks in length about the superstitions and beliefs which are intricately linked to the day-to-day lives of people. How intricate? Imagine taking a 5 mile detour to your lover standing on the other side of the road. No, you can't cross over, because a God is in your path. Making it taboo to walk all over him/her. Ofcourse, duh! Like I didn't know that already!
Believe me, there is much more to Heian aristocracy than the choicest bits I have let through here..Which is why I would strongly suggest reading this book along with the fictional work of your choice from the same period ..It will put the facts of this book in a functioning albeit fictional setting, giving one the chance to experience epiphanies as the once unfathomable plot twists become clear..
There are tons of things I can talk about after reading this book. It does a praiseworthy job of providing a glimpse of the Heian world. I am still far from finishing Genji, but I am making good progress this time around. I have a better grasp of the characters, their actions and situations. The link to the "why" of every action is no longer missing, and I am able to relate to the events. All thanks to this book.
But one of the important things to keep in mind is that, this book is the interpretation of the Heian period as gleaned by Morris from surviving literature and other cultural paraphernalia..Not much of which exists in present day..Not all of his interpretations can be called completely accurate or his distinctions unbiased..He cites references to several works and what we have in our hands is his treatise..no doubt bearing nuances of his own disposition..Despite all that, I still commend his work as an approachable guide to the awe-inspiring territory of ancient Japan..I wish I had come across it sooner..It was worth my time..I plowed through it after reeling in the clarity it provides..now I hope to get through Genji :) Hoping to add it to my read-list soon!!
July 25, 2025
Pur con le sue contraddizioni, il periodo Heian ci mostra come in un mondo libero dalla guerra e dall’ossessione politica per il controllo, arte, sensibilità estetica e raffinatezza possano raggiungere vertici altissimi, capaci di influenzare la cultura per secoli
September 7, 2021
Yes, this book is the key to understanding Heian novels and diaries, and in particular the age of the classic novel Genji (the 'Shining Prince'), but every time I read it, I find something new. It's a true shame that this book is usually only read by university students working their way through a course in Japanese literature or history. This re-read was stimulated by a recent exhibition of ukiyo-e prints (as so many of them are based on the original story Genji or the later parody False Genji), but the phrase that leapt off the page to me this reading was a contrast Morris made between medieval China (the land of inspiration behind so many Japanese customs and aesthetics) and Japan--"In Japan, unlike China, merit was never a passport for entering the hierarchy." That statement is worth more than a few minutes' thought.
And of course, if you are reading any of Japan's classic Heian novels or diaries, this is an absolutely must read.
And of course, if you are reading any of Japan's classic Heian novels or diaries, this is an absolutely must read.
March 10, 2020
After reading an abridged copy of The Tale of Genji (the unabridged, library copy is proving rather elusive), I decided to read more about Heian Japan, in the hopes of knowing more about the world and hence being able to appreciate the unabridged novel more when I finally find it.
The World of the Shining Prince is an accessible yet detailed book about court life in Heian Japan. It starts off with an introduction by Barabara Ruch, the Founder and first Director of EALAC’s Donald Keene Center of Japanese Culture, which helps to place this work in the context of the period. Ruch points out that “Morris depicts the aesthetic of Heian Japan as governed by a “feminine sensibility” and contrasts it to a perceived more masculine, political Chinese sensibility, and to a “less feminine” Western tradition[,]” which is something that is not very welcome in today’s society. It did help me prepare myself for all the comparisons that Morris made between Heian Japan and other societies, which might have annoyed me otherwise.
Although Ruch points out that Morris wasn’t a modern day feminist (naturally, given that he was a product of his times), she also defends him against criticisms of sexism by recalling her tutelage under him. From what she says, he sounds like someone who saw women as equal to men, so I wasn’t too worried about him coming from a place of biases (in terms of sexism) when exploring this world.
After the introduction, we start the book proper. The World of the Shining Prince looks at the following aspects of Heian Japan:
- The Heian Period
- The Setting
- Politics and Society (Possibly the longest chapter in the book)
- The Emperors
- The Fujiwaras
- Society
- Administration
- Economy
- Provincials and the Lesser Breeds
- Religion
- Superstitions (Waley pointed out that the distinction between Religion and Superstition in this book is rather arbitary, so these two chapters could really be divided as Buddhism and not-Buddhism)
- The ‘Good People’ and their Lives
- The Cult of Beauty
- The Women of Heian and their Relations with Men
- Murasaki Shikibu
- Aspects of the Tale of Genji
I took so many notes while reading the book that to recap all of them would mean that I’d be writing a very long summary of the entire book. So instead, here are my key takeaways:
First, that Heian Japan developed a unique culture by isolating themselves after importing much of Chinese culture in the previous dynasties. I had the impression that 鎖国 (sakoku) was a unique policy of the Tokugawa period, but it seems like even before that, Japan had gone under a period where it was relatively closed off. That meant that the nobility in Heian Japan had the time to choose from the Chinese ideas and cultures imported into Japan, assimilating them into their own culture. By making them Japanese, they managed to develop a unique culture of their own.
Second, nature is huge in the book. I noticed that it appeared prominently in the book, but I didn’t appreciate its importance until it was explained to me. As the book puts it:
Third, the architecture of Heian Japan. While they took a lot of influence from China, they didn’t seem to be very influenced in terms of houses (although the layout of the city Heian Kyo was influenced by Changan). To quote:
This will be fantastic when conceptualising the setting of whatever we’re doing later (if a photo shoot is involved). I was pretty surprised by the presence of the rhinoceros horns, since I’m pretty sure they aren’t native to Japan. A quick google shirt shows that the Asian rhinoceros used to live in China, so this is probably an import from China. This is something that would be interesting to follow up on.
Fourthly, the reign of emperors in Japan were very short, and the emperor was only a figurehead. This was due to marriage politics, where the Fujiwaras would do their best to get their daughers married to the emperor and have them give birth to the next emperor, allowing them to stay in power. And because a young emperor was a malleable emperor, they normally had the emperor abdicate early to keep the emperor on the throne young (plus it divides the court). This connects with the position of women in society – because of marriage politics, girls were actually seen as more useful than boys, since they could be used to make advantegeous marriages. They could also inherit and hold, but despite all this, Japan still saw women as lower in status than women. It was definitely a complicated time, and while women had some rights, they were often confined to their houses and bored to death. Morris also reminds us that while The Tale of Genji and works from Heian Japan may show women with a degree of freedom, this is really for upper class women, who make up a minority of women in Japan. Then again, this book basically deals only with the upper classes, which were the minority anyway.
With regards to beauty, Heian women “plucked their eyebrows and then carefully painted them in a curious blot-like set, either in the same place or an inch above. They also went to the greatest trouble to blacken their teeth with a type of dye usually made by soaking iron and powdered gallnut in vinegar or tea.” Later on, blackened teeth was for married women, but in Heian Japan, it was for upper class women of any marital status. And since a pale face was a sign of beauty of aristocratic birth, they used generous amounts of powder to whiten their face and on that, “married women usually applied a little rouge to their cheeks; and they also painted their lips to give the proper rosebud effect.”
As for men, good-looking men were basically good looking women with beards. I was imagining something along a modern ikemen, but the ideal of beauty for males was “a plump white face with a minute mouth, the narrowest slits for eyes and a little tuft of beard on the point of the chin.”
Despite the fact that tea was already pretty popular by the Tang dynasty (the Classic of Tea by Lu Yu was already written by then), it seems like tea wasn’t popular in Japan at that time – alcohol was still more important. That’s a pity because I would have loved to be able to delve deeper into tea culture.
There is a lot more information about the history of Heian Japan, how the Fujiwaras took power, and how romantic relations were conducted back then. If you want more, there are footnotes at the end of each chapter that go into more detail. I’m probably going to have to come back and re-read this.
The last two chapters of the book deal with Murasaki and The Tale of Genji. There were two issues that caught my eye – one was the question of scholarship, if Murasaki really did write The Tale of Genji. I agree with Morris that the arguments about Murasaki’s scholarship is similar to the arguments about Shakespeare’s plays – the question of authorship comes from people who can’t believe that someone like Murasaki (woman)/Shakespeare (not a noble) could write something so brilliant. It’s a bit of snobbery/sexism. The second issue is the question of whether the Tale of Genji is complete. Waley believes it’s complete, but Morris doesn’t. I haven’t read the unabridge version, so I’m not sure either – it’s definitely something that I have to keep in mind as I continue reading up about The Tale of Genji and the world it’s set it.
This book also reminded me that there are other contemporary works, namely The Pillow Book and Essays in Idleness. I’ve read both, but that was about six years ago and I am definitely going to read them again and see what else I can find about this work. In the meantime, I’m going to continue hunting down the unabridged version of The Tale of Genji and works about it. When I feel like I’ve learned enough, I’ll have to start thinking about which parts of Tang Dynasty China I want to look at in relation to Heian Japan.
This review was first posted at Eustea Reads
The World of the Shining Prince is an accessible yet detailed book about court life in Heian Japan. It starts off with an introduction by Barabara Ruch, the Founder and first Director of EALAC’s Donald Keene Center of Japanese Culture, which helps to place this work in the context of the period. Ruch points out that “Morris depicts the aesthetic of Heian Japan as governed by a “feminine sensibility” and contrasts it to a perceived more masculine, political Chinese sensibility, and to a “less feminine” Western tradition[,]” which is something that is not very welcome in today’s society. It did help me prepare myself for all the comparisons that Morris made between Heian Japan and other societies, which might have annoyed me otherwise.
Although Ruch points out that Morris wasn’t a modern day feminist (naturally, given that he was a product of his times), she also defends him against criticisms of sexism by recalling her tutelage under him. From what she says, he sounds like someone who saw women as equal to men, so I wasn’t too worried about him coming from a place of biases (in terms of sexism) when exploring this world.
After the introduction, we start the book proper. The World of the Shining Prince looks at the following aspects of Heian Japan:
- The Heian Period
- The Setting
- Politics and Society (Possibly the longest chapter in the book)
- The Emperors
- The Fujiwaras
- Society
- Administration
- Economy
- Provincials and the Lesser Breeds
- Religion
- Superstitions (Waley pointed out that the distinction between Religion and Superstition in this book is rather arbitary, so these two chapters could really be divided as Buddhism and not-Buddhism)
- The ‘Good People’ and their Lives
- The Cult of Beauty
- The Women of Heian and their Relations with Men
- Murasaki Shikibu
- Aspects of the Tale of Genji
I took so many notes while reading the book that to recap all of them would mean that I’d be writing a very long summary of the entire book. So instead, here are my key takeaways:
First, that Heian Japan developed a unique culture by isolating themselves after importing much of Chinese culture in the previous dynasties. I had the impression that 鎖国 (sakoku) was a unique policy of the Tokugawa period, but it seems like even before that, Japan had gone under a period where it was relatively closed off. That meant that the nobility in Heian Japan had the time to choose from the Chinese ideas and cultures imported into Japan, assimilating them into their own culture. By making them Japanese, they managed to develop a unique culture of their own.
Second, nature is huge in the book. I noticed that it appeared prominently in the book, but I didn’t appreciate its importance until it was explained to me. As the book puts it:
“In The Tale of Genji, then, the nature of Heian Kyo and its environs is no mere static background which the author introduces for decorative effect. It is a vital force, exerting a constant influence on the characters; and it is in terms of this nature that Prince Genji and the others perceive and express their emotions.”
Third, the architecture of Heian Japan. While they took a lot of influence from China, they didn’t seem to be very influenced in terms of houses (although the layout of the city Heian Kyo was influenced by Changan). To quote:
“The wooden floor was bare, except for the individual straw mats and cushions on which people sat […] Chairs (goishi) had been introduced from the Chinese court in an earlier period, but never came into general use […] The emptiness of the room was relieved only by the occasional chest, brazier, screen, go table, or other movable object. In the center of the larger apartments was a chodai (‘curtained platform’ which served as a sort of bedchamber-cum-withdrawingroom. The chodai was a black platform about two foot high and nine foot square; it was covered with straw mats and cushions and surrounded by curtains. Rhinoceros horns were suspended above one end of the platform to ward off illness and opposite them was a pair of mirrors to keep the evil spirits at bay.”
This will be fantastic when conceptualising the setting of whatever we’re doing later (if a photo shoot is involved). I was pretty surprised by the presence of the rhinoceros horns, since I’m pretty sure they aren’t native to Japan. A quick google shirt shows that the Asian rhinoceros used to live in China, so this is probably an import from China. This is something that would be interesting to follow up on.
Fourthly, the reign of emperors in Japan were very short, and the emperor was only a figurehead. This was due to marriage politics, where the Fujiwaras would do their best to get their daughers married to the emperor and have them give birth to the next emperor, allowing them to stay in power. And because a young emperor was a malleable emperor, they normally had the emperor abdicate early to keep the emperor on the throne young (plus it divides the court). This connects with the position of women in society – because of marriage politics, girls were actually seen as more useful than boys, since they could be used to make advantegeous marriages. They could also inherit and hold, but despite all this, Japan still saw women as lower in status than women. It was definitely a complicated time, and while women had some rights, they were often confined to their houses and bored to death. Morris also reminds us that while The Tale of Genji and works from Heian Japan may show women with a degree of freedom, this is really for upper class women, who make up a minority of women in Japan. Then again, this book basically deals only with the upper classes, which were the minority anyway.
With regards to beauty, Heian women “plucked their eyebrows and then carefully painted them in a curious blot-like set, either in the same place or an inch above. They also went to the greatest trouble to blacken their teeth with a type of dye usually made by soaking iron and powdered gallnut in vinegar or tea.” Later on, blackened teeth was for married women, but in Heian Japan, it was for upper class women of any marital status. And since a pale face was a sign of beauty of aristocratic birth, they used generous amounts of powder to whiten their face and on that, “married women usually applied a little rouge to their cheeks; and they also painted their lips to give the proper rosebud effect.”
As for men, good-looking men were basically good looking women with beards. I was imagining something along a modern ikemen, but the ideal of beauty for males was “a plump white face with a minute mouth, the narrowest slits for eyes and a little tuft of beard on the point of the chin.”
Despite the fact that tea was already pretty popular by the Tang dynasty (the Classic of Tea by Lu Yu was already written by then), it seems like tea wasn’t popular in Japan at that time – alcohol was still more important. That’s a pity because I would have loved to be able to delve deeper into tea culture.
There is a lot more information about the history of Heian Japan, how the Fujiwaras took power, and how romantic relations were conducted back then. If you want more, there are footnotes at the end of each chapter that go into more detail. I’m probably going to have to come back and re-read this.
The last two chapters of the book deal with Murasaki and The Tale of Genji. There were two issues that caught my eye – one was the question of scholarship, if Murasaki really did write The Tale of Genji. I agree with Morris that the arguments about Murasaki’s scholarship is similar to the arguments about Shakespeare’s plays – the question of authorship comes from people who can’t believe that someone like Murasaki (woman)/Shakespeare (not a noble) could write something so brilliant. It’s a bit of snobbery/sexism. The second issue is the question of whether the Tale of Genji is complete. Waley believes it’s complete, but Morris doesn’t. I haven’t read the unabridge version, so I’m not sure either – it’s definitely something that I have to keep in mind as I continue reading up about The Tale of Genji and the world it’s set it.
This book also reminded me that there are other contemporary works, namely The Pillow Book and Essays in Idleness. I’ve read both, but that was about six years ago and I am definitely going to read them again and see what else I can find about this work. In the meantime, I’m going to continue hunting down the unabridged version of The Tale of Genji and works about it. When I feel like I’ve learned enough, I’ll have to start thinking about which parts of Tang Dynasty China I want to look at in relation to Heian Japan.
This review was first posted at Eustea Reads
December 29, 2022
Genji Monogatari'yi okumadan önce mutlaka okunması gereken, Heian dönemini en ince ayrıntılarıyla ve en doğru kelime seçimleriyle okuyucunun gözünde canlandırarak anlatan kitap. Budizm ve Şintoizm'den bahsettiği bölüm hakkında yanlış eleştiri yaptığını söyleyenler olmuş, bu konuda pek bilgili olmadığım için yorum yapamayacağım fakat benim için kitabın her sayfası Heian sarayının sokaklarında uzun simsiyah saçlarım, çok katmanlı rengarenk kıyafetlerim, pudralanmış yüzüm ve siyaha boyadığım dişlerimle yürüyüşe çıkmak ve burada yaşayanların özel hayatlarına geçmişin birikiminin farkındalığıyla bakmak demekti. Sonra bu özel hayatlardan daha geniş bir perspektif aldı ve Heian döneminin Japonya ve dünya tarihindeki yerini görmeye kadar gitti. Yazarın öyle bir amacı olmasa da kaleminin güzelliği ve anlatılan dönemin kendine haslığı sayesinde zaman zaman kurgu okuyormuşum gibi hissettim, bu da kitabı benim için okuduğum en eğlenceli “non-fiction” kitap yaptı. Döneme ilgisi olan herkesin okuması gerektiğini düşünüyorum ama olmayanlar okursa Ivan Morris eminim onları da içine çekecektir. Umarım ileride dünyanın ilk romanıyla birlikte bu kitap da Türkçeye çevrilir.
April 8, 2021
read up to the parts detailing the tale of genji and had to return the book because i'd been hogging this for a year (not because it didn't hold my interest but i just didn't get round to it)
really great reference! easy to read and engrossing, especially valuable for the parts on societal structure, politics and religion that the diarists never bothered to address.
enjoyed it very much and would've hogged it even longer if i could've.
really great reference! easy to read and engrossing, especially valuable for the parts on societal structure, politics and religion that the diarists never bothered to address.
enjoyed it very much and would've hogged it even longer if i could've.
June 25, 2024
Must read companion to The Tale of Genji. You have no idea how much you miss if you don't know all these aspects of Heien life and society. But it is best to read Genji first for an unadulterated experience, then this, then go back for a reread.
March 15, 2025
my newest obsession: the wonderful women of the heian imperial court who basically invented autofiction 1,200 years ago. a well written letter expounding your love could make or break you. if your handwriting was ugly they wouldn’t even look at you, let alone entertain an affair. you were nothing if you couldn’t compose poetry on the spot. they held perfume contests that lasted for weeks where everybody had to concoct their personal fragrance. the fragantica girlies are quaking (me)
March 23, 2018
Nice introduction to Heian era. Engaging and entertaining without being too scholarly or too lax.
January 24, 2023
dai oh pensavo peggio
September 20, 2025
If anyone would have told me even a month ago that not only would I be reading a book on Japanese aristocrats in the 10-12 century but be enthralled by it, I would have declared them mad. This is an amazing book with few flaws and many strengths, students of Japanese history, cultural studies, literature or those interested in discovering a world as alien to us as could possibly be will adore this book.
A book like this stands or falls trough selection and use of source material and this the author managed very well. He points out the strengths and limitations of his source material (in essence the book written by Murasaki Shikibu in the 11th century) but not limited to that said book. His style is superb and I am unable to give 5 stars due to a few issues that might seem minor when compared to the achievement but are relevant enough for me.
The main problems I experienced reading the book was on the placing of this history in the bigger time frame of Japanese history. Sure he discusses the time before and after and changes during the Heinan period but it feels to much for my taste as a frame, a well developed frame of a period in Japanese history namely the 11 century. The references to the time before and after are too limited for my taste. For example on the time before we get to why the Fujiwara clan is so powerful in the 11th century but not how they were able to become so powerful or at least not satisfactory (they were the leading clan and designed the Heinan system, ok but why and how?) or how it was possible such an aloof state system and elite could ever be founded. The author mentions a clan system before the Heinan but how did this change come about besides adopting Chinese style structures, how were these enforced. Concerning the after time, a hundred years later the Genpei wars started, the first big Japanese civil war that involved clans mentioned in the book. Morris alluded of their growing power in regard to a weakening imperial throne but I would have loved to read on how Japan got from the sensitive aristocrats writing poetry society to a presenting enemy heads on plates for their feudal lords society. The same goes for the rise of militant buddhist monks. Morris emphasized that at some point the imperial court could not prevent the monk warriors to parade armed trough the capital and demand favor or even resort to pillaging but why? He never explained how this came to be, why did those monasteries resort to these tactics? We never know based on this book.
Perhaps that was an intentional style. As to present the world as how it was known for those living at the time ( or at least the elite of the elite) for we also get little on the common people or even provincial lords and monks. I can appreciate this and I think it works to set the tone and make the book stand out as one of the rare history books that can really take one back in time and understand those living in the past. As a reader you know as much of the time and land as the well read individual of the time did and these reflections on what happened before and after came to me not when reading (or only briefly) but when reflecting on it. The world did became limited to the world of those elite of the elite and make me see trough their eyes.
In conclusion, a must read but even if intentional and adding to the strength of the book, I can't shake of the feeling that I would have preferred more on the bigger scheme and place in time.
update, reread after ten years I still like the book a lot but I should not have given the impression that the tale of the prince of genji was the sole source, "the pillow book" by Sei Shōnagon contemporary of Murasaki Shikibu is an equally valuable source but on slightly different subjects more focused (as one might guess based on the title) with the amorous dealings rather then the sentimental and daily life the tale of prince Genji is focused on. Also on the point of how it came to an end, here too I was overemphasizing and not reading between the lines; the increasing shift of land and power to a few families was key to this loss of an age but it is between the lines. Lastly on the why and how of monks; I actually have read a book on that this year so ideal to combine them https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9...
still I love the book and it is a good read.
A book like this stands or falls trough selection and use of source material and this the author managed very well. He points out the strengths and limitations of his source material (in essence the book written by Murasaki Shikibu in the 11th century) but not limited to that said book. His style is superb and I am unable to give 5 stars due to a few issues that might seem minor when compared to the achievement but are relevant enough for me.
The main problems I experienced reading the book was on the placing of this history in the bigger time frame of Japanese history. Sure he discusses the time before and after and changes during the Heinan period but it feels to much for my taste as a frame, a well developed frame of a period in Japanese history namely the 11 century. The references to the time before and after are too limited for my taste. For example on the time before we get to why the Fujiwara clan is so powerful in the 11th century but not how they were able to become so powerful or at least not satisfactory (they were the leading clan and designed the Heinan system, ok but why and how?) or how it was possible such an aloof state system and elite could ever be founded. The author mentions a clan system before the Heinan but how did this change come about besides adopting Chinese style structures, how were these enforced. Concerning the after time, a hundred years later the Genpei wars started, the first big Japanese civil war that involved clans mentioned in the book. Morris alluded of their growing power in regard to a weakening imperial throne but I would have loved to read on how Japan got from the sensitive aristocrats writing poetry society to a presenting enemy heads on plates for their feudal lords society. The same goes for the rise of militant buddhist monks. Morris emphasized that at some point the imperial court could not prevent the monk warriors to parade armed trough the capital and demand favor or even resort to pillaging but why? He never explained how this came to be, why did those monasteries resort to these tactics? We never know based on this book.
Perhaps that was an intentional style. As to present the world as how it was known for those living at the time ( or at least the elite of the elite) for we also get little on the common people or even provincial lords and monks. I can appreciate this and I think it works to set the tone and make the book stand out as one of the rare history books that can really take one back in time and understand those living in the past. As a reader you know as much of the time and land as the well read individual of the time did and these reflections on what happened before and after came to me not when reading (or only briefly) but when reflecting on it. The world did became limited to the world of those elite of the elite and make me see trough their eyes.
In conclusion, a must read but even if intentional and adding to the strength of the book, I can't shake of the feeling that I would have preferred more on the bigger scheme and place in time.
update, reread after ten years I still like the book a lot but I should not have given the impression that the tale of the prince of genji was the sole source, "the pillow book" by Sei Shōnagon contemporary of Murasaki Shikibu is an equally valuable source but on slightly different subjects more focused (as one might guess based on the title) with the amorous dealings rather then the sentimental and daily life the tale of prince Genji is focused on. Also on the point of how it came to an end, here too I was overemphasizing and not reading between the lines; the increasing shift of land and power to a few families was key to this loss of an age but it is between the lines. Lastly on the why and how of monks; I actually have read a book on that this year so ideal to combine them https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9...
still I love the book and it is a good read.
July 11, 2021
.«Ciertamente, el autor no escribe sobre personas concretas, relacionando las circunstancias reales de sus vidas. Sucede que a uno le conmueven hasta tal punto las cosas, tanto las buenas como las malas, que ha oído y visto suceder a hombres y mujeres que no puede guardárselas para sí, sino que desea ponerlo por escrito y hacer que otras personas lo conozcan, incluso las de generaciones futuras. Estoy seguro que tal es el origen del arte de la narración».
«El mundo del príncipe resplandeciente» no es, como en algunas críticas pudiera parecer, un libro sobre el mundo que Murasaki escribió, sino de aquel en el que escribió. Uno desaparecido en la bruma del tiempo, del que ni siquiera Japón conserva nada más que una imagen estática, ajeno realmente a su cultura y a sus realidades. Una cultura que, basándose en la china, no era tal; impregnada por la particular idiosincrasia nipona. Centrada en unas pocas élites, en un único lugar — la esplendorosa Heian-kyo, la hoy Kioto — una cultura única e irrepetible apareció, perduró durante siglos, y se perdió para siempre. Es esta la que Morris nos trae al presente con su texto, y es en este donde podremos comprenderla en su verdadera dimensión. Y, ¿qué mejor manera de hacerlo que a través de la obra magna de su época?
Morris, en un ensayo ameno pero que demanda interés por el lector, permite traer al presente una cultura lejana en espacio y tiempo. Una visión global de su política e historia, pero también de la vida de sus gentes, de sus juegos, de sus ropas y sus festivales. Un mundo único donde la sombra de la miseria se esconde tras el brillo de la nobleza, cuyos principios y valores se dispersaron como la bruma para pasar a convertirse en aquellos tan diferentes que hoy muchos asocian con Japón: los samuráis, la guerra civil, el militarismo imperante.
Pero Heian no sería un periodo tan recordado si no fuera por «La historia de Genji». Siempre presente en el texto, Morris nos acerca pequeños fragmentos y reflexiones, que nos muestran todo aquello que nos cuenta a través de los personajes y situaciones de una novela que solo se puede admirar más al comprenderla en su profundidad, inserta en el peculiar mundo que la vio nacer. Como contrapartida, todo ese conocimiento que más nos hará disfrutarla se ve eclipsado por la cantidad de destripes de la trama y los personajes que sufren quienes aún no se han aventurado a leerla. ¿Necesario? Puede ser. En mi opinión, bien vale la pena conocer ciertos detalles desde el principio a cambio de poder comprender de verdad lo que se está leyendo. Para los más apegados a la novela, el texto termina con dos capítulos dedicados en exclusiva a Murasaki y a su obra.
Es, en general, una obra amena, con un estilo propio y de un tema complicado de conocer de otras fuentes. Sin ser un texto académico es sin duda un libro para interesados, aunque no es necesario conocer Heian de antemano. Solo hay que tomarse su tiempo... y dejarse sorprender.
«El mundo del príncipe resplandeciente» no es, como en algunas críticas pudiera parecer, un libro sobre el mundo que Murasaki escribió, sino de aquel en el que escribió. Uno desaparecido en la bruma del tiempo, del que ni siquiera Japón conserva nada más que una imagen estática, ajeno realmente a su cultura y a sus realidades. Una cultura que, basándose en la china, no era tal; impregnada por la particular idiosincrasia nipona. Centrada en unas pocas élites, en un único lugar — la esplendorosa Heian-kyo, la hoy Kioto — una cultura única e irrepetible apareció, perduró durante siglos, y se perdió para siempre. Es esta la que Morris nos trae al presente con su texto, y es en este donde podremos comprenderla en su verdadera dimensión. Y, ¿qué mejor manera de hacerlo que a través de la obra magna de su época?
Morris, en un ensayo ameno pero que demanda interés por el lector, permite traer al presente una cultura lejana en espacio y tiempo. Una visión global de su política e historia, pero también de la vida de sus gentes, de sus juegos, de sus ropas y sus festivales. Un mundo único donde la sombra de la miseria se esconde tras el brillo de la nobleza, cuyos principios y valores se dispersaron como la bruma para pasar a convertirse en aquellos tan diferentes que hoy muchos asocian con Japón: los samuráis, la guerra civil, el militarismo imperante.
Pero Heian no sería un periodo tan recordado si no fuera por «La historia de Genji». Siempre presente en el texto, Morris nos acerca pequeños fragmentos y reflexiones, que nos muestran todo aquello que nos cuenta a través de los personajes y situaciones de una novela que solo se puede admirar más al comprenderla en su profundidad, inserta en el peculiar mundo que la vio nacer. Como contrapartida, todo ese conocimiento que más nos hará disfrutarla se ve eclipsado por la cantidad de destripes de la trama y los personajes que sufren quienes aún no se han aventurado a leerla. ¿Necesario? Puede ser. En mi opinión, bien vale la pena conocer ciertos detalles desde el principio a cambio de poder comprender de verdad lo que se está leyendo. Para los más apegados a la novela, el texto termina con dos capítulos dedicados en exclusiva a Murasaki y a su obra.
Es, en general, una obra amena, con un estilo propio y de un tema complicado de conocer de otras fuentes. Sin ser un texto académico es sin duda un libro para interesados, aunque no es necesario conocer Heian de antemano. Solo hay que tomarse su tiempo... y dejarse sorprender.
July 27, 2011
Just to tell people up front this is an academic writing so it does have a lot of footnotes (which is cool) and if you haven't read or are not planning on reading The Tale of Genji then it will be hard to get into. With that said, I have to to say that it is a very informative book about the society and culture that influenced the writing of Genji. It is a little dated ( I believe fro the 60's) but only in the rare case could you really ever tell. Much of whats in here I had learned from Japanese Lit. classes but it is nice having it all in one place. Also it would help if you are familiar with the other diaries and writings of the time (i.e. Kagero Diary, Pillow Book, Murasaki's Diary, etc.) Morris uses these as a way to supplement the study of Genji and as a comparison to what in Genji is actually something that happened (like the scent contest) or which is just the exaggerated ideal for the age (as in the Men crying at everything). I have to say that the chapter about the Women's relationship to the Men of the age is probably my favorite, mainly because it delves into the reality of the polygamist society and how not only the women were effected by that in reality but how that differed (or was the same) as in the Writings of the time.
May 23, 2010
This is probably one of the most beautifully written history books I've ever read. An excellent explanation of the world of Heian Japan which I would really recommend to anyone who wants to read The Tale of Genji. This book certainly makes it easier to imagine Genji's world and explains many aspects and customs of the 10th century Japan that Western readers find so difficult to understand. And, surprisingly, Morris manages to do it in an intelligible and friendly manner without adhering himself to the overly pompous academic phrasing I was so afraid to find taken the obscurity of the subject.
March 25, 2008
I found this book fascinating. It describes Japan of the era portrayed in the Tale of Genji, long before samurai, geisha, sushi, and ninja made their appearance. This book provided me with a window into a completely alien and mysterious world.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 110 reviews