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The Nō Plays of Japan: An Anthology
Part prose, part verse, the visually stunning No plays of Japan deal with such subjects as insanity, obsession and historical characters, and frequently have as their focal points demons, gods, and beautiful women. Among the 19 works and 15 summaries included here are Ukai (The Cormorant-Fisher), Hatsuyuki (Early Snow), as well as a farcical interlude, or kyogen, titled The Bird-Catcher in Hell. A unique introduction for Western theater-goers to classic Japanese drama.
Plays included:
Atsumori by Seami Motokiyo (1363-1444)
Ikuya by Zembō Motoyasu (1453-1532)
Tsunemasa by Seami
Kumasaka by Zenchiku Ujinobu (1414-1499?)
Eboshi-Ori by Miyamasu (sixteenth century?)
Benkei on the Bridge (Hashi-Benki) by Hiyoshi Sa-ami Yasukio (Date unknown, probably first half of the fifteenth century)
Kagekiyo by Seami
Hachi no Ki by Seami
Sotoba Komachi by Kwanami Kiyotsuga (1333-1384)
Ukai (The Cormorant-Fisher) by Enami no Sayemon (c. 1400)
Aya no Tsuzumi (The Damask Drum) attributed to Seami, but perhaps earlier
Aoi no Uye (Princess Hollyhock) revised by Zenchiku Ujinobu (1414-1499?)
Kantan (unknown, before 1600)
The Hōka Priests (Hōkazō) by Zenchiku Ujinobu (1414-1499) [no ? this time]
Hagoromo by Seami
Tanikō (The Valley-Hurling) Part I by Zenchiku
Ikeniye (The Pool Sacrifice) Part I by Seami
Hatsuyuki (Early Snow) by Kopara Zembō Motoyasu (1453-1532)
Haku Rakuten by Seami
Plays included:
Atsumori by Seami Motokiyo (1363-1444)
Ikuya by Zembō Motoyasu (1453-1532)
Tsunemasa by Seami
Kumasaka by Zenchiku Ujinobu (1414-1499?)
Eboshi-Ori by Miyamasu (sixteenth century?)
Benkei on the Bridge (Hashi-Benki) by Hiyoshi Sa-ami Yasukio (Date unknown, probably first half of the fifteenth century)
Kagekiyo by Seami
Hachi no Ki by Seami
Sotoba Komachi by Kwanami Kiyotsuga (1333-1384)
Ukai (The Cormorant-Fisher) by Enami no Sayemon (c. 1400)
Aya no Tsuzumi (The Damask Drum) attributed to Seami, but perhaps earlier
Aoi no Uye (Princess Hollyhock) revised by Zenchiku Ujinobu (1414-1499?)
Kantan (unknown, before 1600)
The Hōka Priests (Hōkazō) by Zenchiku Ujinobu (1414-1499) [no ? this time]
Hagoromo by Seami
Tanikō (The Valley-Hurling) Part I by Zenchiku
Ikeniye (The Pool Sacrifice) Part I by Seami
Hatsuyuki (Early Snow) by Kopara Zembō Motoyasu (1453-1532)
Haku Rakuten by Seami
290 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1921
17 people are currently reading
273 people want to read
About the author
Arthur Waley
243 books40 followersArthur David Waley was an esteemed English orientalist and sinologist, renowned for his translations of Chinese and Japanese poetry. He received numerous honours, including the Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) in 1952, the Queen's Gold Medal for Poetry in 1953, and was invested as a Member of the Order of the Companions of Honour (CH) in 1956.
Waley was largely self-taught, and his translations brought Chinese and Japanese classical literature to a broad Western audience. He translated works such as A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems (1918), The Tale of Genji (1925–26), and Monkey (1942), making significant contributions to the understanding of East Asian literary traditions in the West. Despite his extensive knowledge, Waley never visited China or Japan, nor did he speak Mandarin or Japanese, focusing solely on written texts.
Born in Tunbridge Wells, Kent, he attended Rugby School and briefly studied Classics at Cambridge University before leaving due to vision problems. In 1913, he became Assistant Keeper of Oriental Prints and Manuscripts at the British Museum, where he taught himself Classical Chinese and Japanese. Waley was also active during WWII, working for the Ministry of Information and running the Japanese Censorship Section.
He maintained a close personal relationship with dancer and orientalist Beryl de Zoete, though they never married. Waley passed away in 1966, shortly after marrying poet Alison Grant Robinson. His work left an indelible mark on the field of translation and introduced the high literary cultures of China and Japan to the English-speaking world. His translations continue to be highly regarded and widely published, influencing generations of readers and scholars.
Waley was largely self-taught, and his translations brought Chinese and Japanese classical literature to a broad Western audience. He translated works such as A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems (1918), The Tale of Genji (1925–26), and Monkey (1942), making significant contributions to the understanding of East Asian literary traditions in the West. Despite his extensive knowledge, Waley never visited China or Japan, nor did he speak Mandarin or Japanese, focusing solely on written texts.
Born in Tunbridge Wells, Kent, he attended Rugby School and briefly studied Classics at Cambridge University before leaving due to vision problems. In 1913, he became Assistant Keeper of Oriental Prints and Manuscripts at the British Museum, where he taught himself Classical Chinese and Japanese. Waley was also active during WWII, working for the Ministry of Information and running the Japanese Censorship Section.
He maintained a close personal relationship with dancer and orientalist Beryl de Zoete, though they never married. Waley passed away in 1966, shortly after marrying poet Alison Grant Robinson. His work left an indelible mark on the field of translation and introduced the high literary cultures of China and Japan to the English-speaking world. His translations continue to be highly regarded and widely published, influencing generations of readers and scholars.
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November 12, 2015Motivated by reading William T. Vollmann's Kissing the Mask , I re-read Arthur Waley's (1889-1966) translations of nineteen Noh plays (with summaries of sixteen others). Though reading a Noh play is much like reading the libretto of an opera, it is unavoidable, probably even for the Japanese, since the classic Noh plays (and that is most of them) are written in the formal language of the fourteenth century Japanese court. When Waley wrote this book (it appeared in 1921), he asserted that this courtly language was still used to write very formal letters in Japan. Nearly a century later, and knowing the enormous upheavals in Japanese society which have intervened, I feel safe in speculating that relatively few Japanese would have learned that archaic version of Japanese in our time. In the West, the opportunities to actually see a live performance of a Noh play are rare indeed. Even in Japan, where the Noh acting troupes are partially supported by the government, Noh performances are not frequent and most definitely sinfully expensive. Except for the occasional performance for a temple or other public institution (where they are free and are serving an outside purpose), Noh performances are attended by the old and exceedingly wealthy, to a degree that goes well beyond the situation of classical music in the West, where a certain minority of the young are still drawn to the music and into the concerts. When I asked my Japanese friends about Noh performances, they snorted with disdain and said they are for very old poseurs who go there to sleep. This news saddened me at the time but did not surprise.
Though, of course, Noh grew out of earlier forms of theater and performance, it attained its unique and traditional form in the fourteenth century due largely to the efforts of a father and son team, Kiyotsugu Kwanami (or Kanami) (1333-1384) and Motokiyo Zeami (or Seami or Kanze) (1363-1443/4). Zeami became the theorist of Noh, writing essays about its aesthetics, and composed many of the plays which became the models for later authors. He also wrote very concrete and practical advice for Noh actors (excerpted by Waley). Some of these essays are assiduously kept secret by the oldest troupes, which are associated with families - either you are born into the family or adopted into it if you want to be a Noh actor. Though the occasional woman was a Noh actor in the far past, all roles have been performed by men for a very long time (some of the troupes are relaxing this somewhat, but the actresses must learn to play the women's roles "with the strength of a man").
I have only ever seen videos of Noh performances and heard recordings of the performances (Noh music is strikingly unique) and have resigned myself to never seeing a live performance. You should find some of the videos online to get a flavor of the totally unique nature of Noh performance techniques. But what about Noh plays as literature? Waley explicitly writes that to explore and display precisely this aspect was the purpose of this book. Let's turn to that.
The plays translated in full were written in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, 6 or 7 by Zeami. As dance, long silences, slow chanting and singing are major components of Noh, the actual texts are less than 10 pages long. Distillation and constraint, yugen (that which lies beneath the surface, that which is hinted but not stated) are basic elements in these texts, as they are in most medieval Japanese art.
The stories are largely based upon famous stories from ancient and medieval Japanese history, though not exclusively so. They are permeated with Buddhist attitudes, though, somewhat surprisingly to me, by Amida-school Buddhist traits, not by Zen. Of course, the fact that karma plays a large role in the plays is common to all schools of Buddhism. And there are many ghost stories. As Waley explains, the ghost stories enable the Noh author to describe, not show, violent and dramatic events; this is advantageous because to show such things would be vulgar, offensive and not yugen . Typically, there are two characters (though not always), 4 musicians, and a chorus filling roles not unlike those of the chorus in ancient Greek drama; but the chorus also chanted or sang the lines of the shite , the main character, when the actor was too involved in his dancing and gesturing to comfortably chant or sing himself. (Any sign of strain or effort would not be yugen .)
The texts are mixtures of poetry and prose; often they open with a Buddhist-inspired couplet, then lapse into prose as the waki , one of the two main characters, introduces himself, the setting and then the shite . As the dramatic tension heightens, the prose usually intensifies into poetry. Viewed as literature these translations are truly admirable - graceful, charming, quite yugen (Vollmann loves them, too). Let me show you a few passages.
First, the opening couplet from Kagekiyo (Zeami):
A chorus from Kagekiyo :
From the title character in Atsumori (Zeami):
Though, of course, Noh grew out of earlier forms of theater and performance, it attained its unique and traditional form in the fourteenth century due largely to the efforts of a father and son team, Kiyotsugu Kwanami (or Kanami) (1333-1384) and Motokiyo Zeami (or Seami or Kanze) (1363-1443/4). Zeami became the theorist of Noh, writing essays about its aesthetics, and composed many of the plays which became the models for later authors. He also wrote very concrete and practical advice for Noh actors (excerpted by Waley). Some of these essays are assiduously kept secret by the oldest troupes, which are associated with families - either you are born into the family or adopted into it if you want to be a Noh actor. Though the occasional woman was a Noh actor in the far past, all roles have been performed by men for a very long time (some of the troupes are relaxing this somewhat, but the actresses must learn to play the women's roles "with the strength of a man").
I have only ever seen videos of Noh performances and heard recordings of the performances (Noh music is strikingly unique) and have resigned myself to never seeing a live performance. You should find some of the videos online to get a flavor of the totally unique nature of Noh performance techniques. But what about Noh plays as literature? Waley explicitly writes that to explore and display precisely this aspect was the purpose of this book. Let's turn to that.
The plays translated in full were written in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, 6 or 7 by Zeami. As dance, long silences, slow chanting and singing are major components of Noh, the actual texts are less than 10 pages long. Distillation and constraint, yugen (that which lies beneath the surface, that which is hinted but not stated) are basic elements in these texts, as they are in most medieval Japanese art.
The stories are largely based upon famous stories from ancient and medieval Japanese history, though not exclusively so. They are permeated with Buddhist attitudes, though, somewhat surprisingly to me, by Amida-school Buddhist traits, not by Zen. Of course, the fact that karma plays a large role in the plays is common to all schools of Buddhism. And there are many ghost stories. As Waley explains, the ghost stories enable the Noh author to describe, not show, violent and dramatic events; this is advantageous because to show such things would be vulgar, offensive and not yugen . Typically, there are two characters (though not always), 4 musicians, and a chorus filling roles not unlike those of the chorus in ancient Greek drama; but the chorus also chanted or sang the lines of the shite , the main character, when the actor was too involved in his dancing and gesturing to comfortably chant or sing himself. (Any sign of strain or effort would not be yugen .)
The texts are mixtures of poetry and prose; often they open with a Buddhist-inspired couplet, then lapse into prose as the waki , one of the two main characters, introduces himself, the setting and then the shite . As the dramatic tension heightens, the prose usually intensifies into poetry. Viewed as literature these translations are truly admirable - graceful, charming, quite yugen (Vollmann loves them, too). Let me show you a few passages.
First, the opening couplet from Kagekiyo (Zeami):
Late dewdrops are our lives that only wait
Till the wind blows, the wind of morning blows.
A chorus from Kagekiyo :
Though my eyes be darkened
Yet, no word spoken,
Men's thoughts I see.
Listen now to the wind
In the woods upon the hill:
Snow is coming, snow!
Oh bitterness to wake
From dreams of flowers unseen!
And on the shore,
Listen, the waves are lapping
Over the rough stones to the cliff.
The evening tide is in.
From the title character in Atsumori (Zeami):
When they were on high they afflicted the humble;
When they were rich they were reckless in pride.
And so for twenty years and more
They ruled this land.
But truly a generation passes like the space of a dream.
[.............]
Wild geese were they rather, whose ranks are broken
As they fly to southward on their doubtful journey.
Read
May 27, 2017I found this very flat after enjoying Royall Tyler's No translations so much. Waley omits a lot of the text claiming it's of no interest or too arcane for a Western reader.
February 27, 2023
Originating in the 14th-16th centuries, these are rare translations of the original Japanese Nō plays that are still performed today. Several stories feature ghosts or spirits, which I felt could be the origin of Japanese horror movies. The author explains the structure and staging of the plays, but quite a few of them can be found on YouTube as well, which is fascinating to watch.
November 30, 2024
Read the plays Sotoba Komachi and Aoi No Ue for Japan Society of Boston Noh theatre discussions.
A four* for me only because Whaley’s translation does not include stage instructions like the edition edited by Keene.
A four* for me only because Whaley’s translation does not include stage instructions like the edition edited by Keene.
November 10, 2009
This is an interesting book historically and for its insight into Buddhist worship in medieval Japan, which makes up for the dryness of the plays themselves.
Most of the plays in this anthology were written by Kwanami Kiyotsugu and his son Seami Motokiyo, who were both priests of Amida Buddhism (the older and more traditional form of the two types of Buddhism most practised in in Japan, distinct from Zen). THey date from the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries.
---
Here are a few random quotes for flavour:
"Sometimes from discord salvation springs."
- Kwanami, 'Sotoba Komachi'
"...where can I hide, I that have no more refuge than the dew
That finds no leaf to lie on?
Should you, oh flower delicately tended,
Call me your father, then would the World know you
A beggar's daughter. Oh think not ill of me
That I did let you pass!"
- Seami, 'Kagekiyo'
"I am old: I have forgotten -- things unforgettable!
My thoughts are tangled: I am ashamed.
But little longer shall this world,
This sorrowful world, torment me."
- Seami, 'Kagekiyo'
Yama (lord of Hell):
"Hell is not far away:
All that your eyes look out on in the world
Is the Fiend's home."
- Enami No Sayemon, 'Ukai'
---
A few of the plays grabbed me on an emotional level, but most most of these plays are overly emotionally restrained and excessively didactic. Japanese thought is quite remote from that of European Humanism. The language is pretty, but they are little more than elaborate morality plays.
Ghosts feature prominently, and their melancholy utterances give the plays most of what pathos they possess. However, these are always soliloquies are usually tied neatly into Buddhist teachings, which detracts from their effect; especially as the Amidist teachings seem quite shallow to me. For example one ghost mourns his wretched state, the sadness of the world, his bitter death; a priest mutters a few incantations to the Buddha, and the spectre is whisked off to Paradise!
There were some interesting surprises, though. Two plays dealt with human sacrifice as something proper that should be accepted. That caused my eyebrows to raise. I'm fairly sure human sacrifice was being used allegorically in the play and it wasn't practised in Japanese Buddhism (wouldn't it be news if it was otherwise?) Nevertheless, the necessity of accepting one's sacrifice to an ancient tradition was an interesting thing to note in terms of the Japanese mind, especially considering these plays are not directly connected to Bushido and Zen. The mental conditioning that inflicted Kamikaze on the world has been going on a long time.
It's an old book, out of copyright. The whole text is available here:
http://www.sacred-texts.com/shi/npj/i...
Not especially appealing in and of itself, but worth dipping into if you are interested in understanding the Japanese.
Most of the plays in this anthology were written by Kwanami Kiyotsugu and his son Seami Motokiyo, who were both priests of Amida Buddhism (the older and more traditional form of the two types of Buddhism most practised in in Japan, distinct from Zen). THey date from the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries.
---
Here are a few random quotes for flavour:
"Sometimes from discord salvation springs."
- Kwanami, 'Sotoba Komachi'
"...where can I hide, I that have no more refuge than the dew
That finds no leaf to lie on?
Should you, oh flower delicately tended,
Call me your father, then would the World know you
A beggar's daughter. Oh think not ill of me
That I did let you pass!"
- Seami, 'Kagekiyo'
"I am old: I have forgotten -- things unforgettable!
My thoughts are tangled: I am ashamed.
But little longer shall this world,
This sorrowful world, torment me."
- Seami, 'Kagekiyo'
Yama (lord of Hell):
"Hell is not far away:
All that your eyes look out on in the world
Is the Fiend's home."
- Enami No Sayemon, 'Ukai'
---
A few of the plays grabbed me on an emotional level, but most most of these plays are overly emotionally restrained and excessively didactic. Japanese thought is quite remote from that of European Humanism. The language is pretty, but they are little more than elaborate morality plays.
Ghosts feature prominently, and their melancholy utterances give the plays most of what pathos they possess. However, these are always soliloquies are usually tied neatly into Buddhist teachings, which detracts from their effect; especially as the Amidist teachings seem quite shallow to me. For example one ghost mourns his wretched state, the sadness of the world, his bitter death; a priest mutters a few incantations to the Buddha, and the spectre is whisked off to Paradise!
There were some interesting surprises, though. Two plays dealt with human sacrifice as something proper that should be accepted. That caused my eyebrows to raise. I'm fairly sure human sacrifice was being used allegorically in the play and it wasn't practised in Japanese Buddhism (wouldn't it be news if it was otherwise?) Nevertheless, the necessity of accepting one's sacrifice to an ancient tradition was an interesting thing to note in terms of the Japanese mind, especially considering these plays are not directly connected to Bushido and Zen. The mental conditioning that inflicted Kamikaze on the world has been going on a long time.
It's an old book, out of copyright. The whole text is available here:
http://www.sacred-texts.com/shi/npj/i...
Not especially appealing in and of itself, but worth dipping into if you are interested in understanding the Japanese.
August 20, 2012
how could anyone rate this less than five stars? not only are these riveting and dramatic, the stories are exactly what people watch and write in today's hollywood and video games! stories never change, because they are new to each generation. will especially help if you are a writer, but are engrossing just for fun.
i liked seeing what has endured, a great situation and beautiful turn of phrase will be repeated for thousands of years.
i liked seeing what has endured, a great situation and beautiful turn of phrase will be repeated for thousands of years.
April 1, 2013
A tremendous collection of sublime plays from the Noh tradition. I couldn't stop reading this book.
December 9, 2017
YŪGEN
It is obvious that Seami was deeply imbued with the teachings of Zen, in which cult his patron Yoshimitsu may have been his master. The difficult term yūgen which occurs constantly in the works is derived from Zen literature. It means "what lies beneath the surface"; the subtle as opposed to the obvious; the hint, as opposed to the statement. It is applied to the natural grace of a boy's movements, to the restraint of a nobleman's speech and bearing. "When notes fall sweetly and flutter delicately to the ear," that is the yūgen of music. The symbol of yūgen is "a white bird with a flower in its beak." "To watch the sun sink behind a flower-clad hill, to wander on and on in a huge forest with no thought of return, to stand upon the shore and gaze after a boat that goes hid by far-off islands, to ponder on the journey of wild-geese seen and lost among the clouds" -such are the gates to yūgen.
One's style should be easy and full of graceful yūgen, and the piece selected should be suitable to the audience. A ballad (ko-utai) or dance-song (kuse-mai) of the day will be best. One should have in one's repertory a stock of such pieces and be ready to vary them according to the character of one's audience.
IMITATION (Monomane)
The appearance of old age will often be best given by making all movements a little late, so that they come just after the musical beat. If the actor bears this in mind, he may be as lively and energetic as he pleases. For in old age the limbs are heavy and the ears slow; there is the will to move but not the corresponding capacity.
It is in such methods as this that true imitation lies. . . . Youthful movements made by an old person are, indeed, delightful; they are like flowers blossoming on an old tree.
APPARITIONS
Since no one has ever seen a real ghost from the Nether Regions, the actor may use his fancy, aiming only at the beautiful. To represent real life is far more difficult.
If ghosts are terrifying, they cease to be beautiful. For the terrifying and the beautiful are as far apart as black and white.
Atsumori
PRIEST: Hey, you reapers! I have a question to ask you.
YOUNG REAPER: Is it to us you are speaking? What do you wish to know?
PRIEST: Was it one of you who was playing on the flute just now?
YOUNG REAPER: Yes, it was we who were playing.
PRIEST: It was a pleasant sound, and all the pleasanter because one does not look for such music from men of your condition.
YOUNG REAPER: Unlocked for from men of our condition, you say!
Have you not read:-
"Do not envy what is above you
Nor despise what is below you"?
Moreover the songs of woodmen and the flute-playing of herdsmen,
Flute-playing even of reapers and songs of wood-fellers
Through poets' verses are known to all the world.
Wonder not to hear among us
The sound of a bamboo-flute.
CHORUS.
"Oh, reject me not!
One cry suffices for salvation,
Yet day and night
Your prayers will rise for me.
Happy am I, for though you know not my name,
Yet for my soul's deliverance
At dawn and dusk henceforward I know that you will pray."
CHORUS.
There is a saying, "Put away from you a wicked friend; summon to your side a virtuous enemy." For you it was said, and you have proven it true.
And now come tell with us the tale of your confession, while the night is still dark.
Sotoba Komachi
CHORUS.
The cup she held at the feast
Like gentle moonlight dropped its glint on her sleeve.
Oh how fell she from splendour,
How came the white of winter
To crown her head?
Where are gone the lovely locks, double-twined,
The coils of jet?
Lank wisps, scant curls wither now
On wilted flesh;
And twin-arches, moth-brows tinge no more
With the hue of far hills. "Oh cover, cover
From the creeping light of dawn
Silted seaweed locks that of a hundred years
Lack now but one.
Oh hide me from my shame."
NOTE ON KANTAN
A young man, going into the world to make his fortune, stops at an inn on the road and there meets with a sage, who lends him a pillow. While the inn-servant is heating up the millet, the young man dozes on the pillow and dreams that he enters public life, is promoted, degraded, recalled to office, endures the hardship of distant campaigns, is accused of treason, condemned to death, saved at the last moment and finally dies at a great old age. Awaking from his dream, the young man discovers that the millet is not yet cooked. In a moment's sleep he has lived through the vicissitudes of a long public career. Convinced that in the great world "honour is soon followed by disgrace, and promotion by calumny," he turns back again towards the village from which he came.
Such, in outline, is the most usual version of the story of Rosei's dream at Kantan. The earliest form in which we know it is the "Pillow Tale" of the Chinese writer Li Pi, who lived from 722 to 789 A. D.
NOTE ON HAGOROMO.
The story of the mortal who stole an angel's cloak and so prevented her return to heaven is very widely spread. It exists, with variations and complications, in India, China, Japan, the Liu Chiu Islands and Sweden. The story of Hasan in the Arabian Nights is an elaboration of the same theme.
It is obvious that Seami was deeply imbued with the teachings of Zen, in which cult his patron Yoshimitsu may have been his master. The difficult term yūgen which occurs constantly in the works is derived from Zen literature. It means "what lies beneath the surface"; the subtle as opposed to the obvious; the hint, as opposed to the statement. It is applied to the natural grace of a boy's movements, to the restraint of a nobleman's speech and bearing. "When notes fall sweetly and flutter delicately to the ear," that is the yūgen of music. The symbol of yūgen is "a white bird with a flower in its beak." "To watch the sun sink behind a flower-clad hill, to wander on and on in a huge forest with no thought of return, to stand upon the shore and gaze after a boat that goes hid by far-off islands, to ponder on the journey of wild-geese seen and lost among the clouds" -such are the gates to yūgen.
One's style should be easy and full of graceful yūgen, and the piece selected should be suitable to the audience. A ballad (ko-utai) or dance-song (kuse-mai) of the day will be best. One should have in one's repertory a stock of such pieces and be ready to vary them according to the character of one's audience.
IMITATION (Monomane)
The appearance of old age will often be best given by making all movements a little late, so that they come just after the musical beat. If the actor bears this in mind, he may be as lively and energetic as he pleases. For in old age the limbs are heavy and the ears slow; there is the will to move but not the corresponding capacity.
It is in such methods as this that true imitation lies. . . . Youthful movements made by an old person are, indeed, delightful; they are like flowers blossoming on an old tree.
APPARITIONS
Since no one has ever seen a real ghost from the Nether Regions, the actor may use his fancy, aiming only at the beautiful. To represent real life is far more difficult.
If ghosts are terrifying, they cease to be beautiful. For the terrifying and the beautiful are as far apart as black and white.
Atsumori
PRIEST: Hey, you reapers! I have a question to ask you.
YOUNG REAPER: Is it to us you are speaking? What do you wish to know?
PRIEST: Was it one of you who was playing on the flute just now?
YOUNG REAPER: Yes, it was we who were playing.
PRIEST: It was a pleasant sound, and all the pleasanter because one does not look for such music from men of your condition.
YOUNG REAPER: Unlocked for from men of our condition, you say!
Have you not read:-
"Do not envy what is above you
Nor despise what is below you"?
Moreover the songs of woodmen and the flute-playing of herdsmen,
Flute-playing even of reapers and songs of wood-fellers
Through poets' verses are known to all the world.
Wonder not to hear among us
The sound of a bamboo-flute.
CHORUS.
"Oh, reject me not!
One cry suffices for salvation,
Yet day and night
Your prayers will rise for me.
Happy am I, for though you know not my name,
Yet for my soul's deliverance
At dawn and dusk henceforward I know that you will pray."
CHORUS.
There is a saying, "Put away from you a wicked friend; summon to your side a virtuous enemy." For you it was said, and you have proven it true.
And now come tell with us the tale of your confession, while the night is still dark.
Sotoba Komachi
CHORUS.
The cup she held at the feast
Like gentle moonlight dropped its glint on her sleeve.
Oh how fell she from splendour,
How came the white of winter
To crown her head?
Where are gone the lovely locks, double-twined,
The coils of jet?
Lank wisps, scant curls wither now
On wilted flesh;
And twin-arches, moth-brows tinge no more
With the hue of far hills. "Oh cover, cover
From the creeping light of dawn
Silted seaweed locks that of a hundred years
Lack now but one.
Oh hide me from my shame."
NOTE ON KANTAN
A young man, going into the world to make his fortune, stops at an inn on the road and there meets with a sage, who lends him a pillow. While the inn-servant is heating up the millet, the young man dozes on the pillow and dreams that he enters public life, is promoted, degraded, recalled to office, endures the hardship of distant campaigns, is accused of treason, condemned to death, saved at the last moment and finally dies at a great old age. Awaking from his dream, the young man discovers that the millet is not yet cooked. In a moment's sleep he has lived through the vicissitudes of a long public career. Convinced that in the great world "honour is soon followed by disgrace, and promotion by calumny," he turns back again towards the village from which he came.
Such, in outline, is the most usual version of the story of Rosei's dream at Kantan. The earliest form in which we know it is the "Pillow Tale" of the Chinese writer Li Pi, who lived from 722 to 789 A. D.
NOTE ON HAGOROMO.
The story of the mortal who stole an angel's cloak and so prevented her return to heaven is very widely spread. It exists, with variations and complications, in India, China, Japan, the Liu Chiu Islands and Sweden. The story of Hasan in the Arabian Nights is an elaboration of the same theme.
August 7, 2024
With this book, Arthur Waley compiled one of the first anthologies of Noh plays in the English language. Published in 1921, several years after Ezra Pound’s famous transliterations, this broad collection provides an excellent overview of the genre, and some beautiful translations.
The script is just one small part of this subtle yet highly stylized art. Understated to the point of obscurity, and full of allusions to ancient Japanese and Chinese poems, the language unwinds, like everything in Noh, very slowly and deliberately. But it has the quiet stillness of porcelain.
I can’t speak to the accuracy of the translations, but Waley seems to explain where he has made cuts or changes. Overall, however, the prosaic poetry of these translations has a certain beauty and delicacy that, to my mind, should underly this precious art. My favorites plays are Atsumori (about two enemies finding peace), Aya No Tsuzumi (a haunting love story of the damask/twill drum), and Kantan (about a magic pillow showing the transitory nature of life).
This book is written for the Noh novice, providing a rather good introduction for the reader without getting too deep into the poetic and acting intricacies of this highly complex art. It's still about 50-pages long.
If you are looking for a good introduction to Noh theatre, I highly recommend this collection. It is old, and there are some odd phrasings from the pre-modern poetry period, but overall is a good selection of the plays and they are enjoyable.
The script is just one small part of this subtle yet highly stylized art. Understated to the point of obscurity, and full of allusions to ancient Japanese and Chinese poems, the language unwinds, like everything in Noh, very slowly and deliberately. But it has the quiet stillness of porcelain.
I can’t speak to the accuracy of the translations, but Waley seems to explain where he has made cuts or changes. Overall, however, the prosaic poetry of these translations has a certain beauty and delicacy that, to my mind, should underly this precious art. My favorites plays are Atsumori (about two enemies finding peace), Aya No Tsuzumi (a haunting love story of the damask/twill drum), and Kantan (about a magic pillow showing the transitory nature of life).
This book is written for the Noh novice, providing a rather good introduction for the reader without getting too deep into the poetic and acting intricacies of this highly complex art. It's still about 50-pages long.
If you are looking for a good introduction to Noh theatre, I highly recommend this collection. It is old, and there are some odd phrasings from the pre-modern poetry period, but overall is a good selection of the plays and they are enjoyable.
May 11, 2024
Some of the first Japanese literature I read were the noh plays in Royall Tyler’s 1992 collection, ‘Japanese No Dramas’. I’d just arrived in Japan and was captivated by their brief, airy, beauty. Reading those exquisite plays, steeped in Buddhism, was one of the key experiences on my short road to becoming captivated by Japan.
I don’t think the English translations in Arthur Waley’s 1921 collection, ‘The Noh Plays of Japan’, are quite the equal of those by Tyler, but they’re still, in their lyrical brevity, like brushstrokes on paper, arrestingly beautiful.
Also included is an example of kyōgen, short farcical plays performed along with noh, either between plays or as a kind of intermission between acts. In performance, noh benefits from these light comic interludes, as it’s very different to watch than to read. On the page, its brevity is one of its most striking features; on stage, acted out, noh is stretched prodigiously into epic slowness and comes across as very serious.
This was a groundbreaking and influential publication for Western understanding of Japanese literature and culture, and still stands today as a beautiful thing to read and an eye-opening insight into Japan.
On a side note, also worth seeking out if you like noh, is Mishima Yukio’s ‘Four Modern Noh Plays’. You can read the fourteenth- and fifteenth-century originals in Waley and/or Tyler, and then Mishima’s brilliant modern (1950s) versions.
I don’t think the English translations in Arthur Waley’s 1921 collection, ‘The Noh Plays of Japan’, are quite the equal of those by Tyler, but they’re still, in their lyrical brevity, like brushstrokes on paper, arrestingly beautiful.
Also included is an example of kyōgen, short farcical plays performed along with noh, either between plays or as a kind of intermission between acts. In performance, noh benefits from these light comic interludes, as it’s very different to watch than to read. On the page, its brevity is one of its most striking features; on stage, acted out, noh is stretched prodigiously into epic slowness and comes across as very serious.
This was a groundbreaking and influential publication for Western understanding of Japanese literature and culture, and still stands today as a beautiful thing to read and an eye-opening insight into Japan.
On a side note, also worth seeking out if you like noh, is Mishima Yukio’s ‘Four Modern Noh Plays’. You can read the fourteenth- and fifteenth-century originals in Waley and/or Tyler, and then Mishima’s brilliant modern (1950s) versions.
August 28, 2021
I had heard somewhere that to fully understand and appreciate Noh theatre, one had to be: a. Japanese, b. alive during the Edo period, and c. born into a family that practiced this intricate art form. So to see the boldness of a bloke from Bloomsbury trying his poetic hand at translating these dramatic text that only just scratch the surface of the oldest, continuously performed style of theatre, is no small feat that anything could be written. The collection of plays assembled showcase the human turmoil and unworldly compassion these Zen-inspired stories impart, and the handful that stand out have the Aristotelian conflict Westerners expect to see on stage. But I wonder if plays like Sotoba Komachi or Hashi-Benkei are the exceptions to a rule where something more mysterious like Hagoromo is the Noh norm? It is amazing to read each part, even at its most confusing there is some shining light, and to have Waley make a direct comparison to Webster’s Duchess of Malfi cemented for me the need for further study into these amazing scraps of cultural history.
August 8, 2019
Considering that this book was first published in 1921, it is quite an achievement as both Japanese and Western scholarship was much less developed 100 years ago and translators didn't have the large number of tools at their disposal we have today.
However, I wonder on what grounds Waley made his selection of 19 plays. He did include a number of famous ones like Atsumori, Hashi Benkei, Kagekiyo, Aya no Tsuzumi, Aoi no Uye, Kantan and Hagoromo, but also includes some very obscure plays as Ikeniye, which he even doesn't translate completely because they would make too many annotations necessary. And he is too much focused on Shura-mono, plays about warriors (besides Atsumori, for example Ikuta and Tsunemasa) and Ushiwaka/Minamoto no Yoshitsune (Kumasaka, Eboshi-ori, Hashi Benkei) while including only one Katsura-mono, a play with a woman in the "shite" main role - although this is in fact the largest category among the five into which No plays are traditionally divided.
The introduction is outdated and contains errors - in his note on Buddhism, Waley confuses Amidism with Nichiren Buddhism, although the two schools are opponents.
So when you are new to No drama, pick a better, modern anthology, such as "20 Plays of the No Theater" by Donald Keene (Columbia) or "Japanese No Dramas" by Royall Tyler (Penguin). A good selection with concise but excellent introduction can also be found in "Traditional Japanese Literature: An Anthology, Beginnings to 1600" by Haruo Shirane (Columbia). This last book, for example, contains 8 plays: Aoi no ue ("Lady Aoi"), Sotoba Komachi ("Stupa Komachi"), Matsukaze ("Pining Wind"), Takasago, Atsumori, Sumidagawa ("Sumida River"), Nonomiya ("Shrine in the Fields"), and Ataka - a well-balanced and representative selection.
Read Waley only after you have exhausted the above three collections and are looking for more translations.
However, I wonder on what grounds Waley made his selection of 19 plays. He did include a number of famous ones like Atsumori, Hashi Benkei, Kagekiyo, Aya no Tsuzumi, Aoi no Uye, Kantan and Hagoromo, but also includes some very obscure plays as Ikeniye, which he even doesn't translate completely because they would make too many annotations necessary. And he is too much focused on Shura-mono, plays about warriors (besides Atsumori, for example Ikuta and Tsunemasa) and Ushiwaka/Minamoto no Yoshitsune (Kumasaka, Eboshi-ori, Hashi Benkei) while including only one Katsura-mono, a play with a woman in the "shite" main role - although this is in fact the largest category among the five into which No plays are traditionally divided.
The introduction is outdated and contains errors - in his note on Buddhism, Waley confuses Amidism with Nichiren Buddhism, although the two schools are opponents.
So when you are new to No drama, pick a better, modern anthology, such as "20 Plays of the No Theater" by Donald Keene (Columbia) or "Japanese No Dramas" by Royall Tyler (Penguin). A good selection with concise but excellent introduction can also be found in "Traditional Japanese Literature: An Anthology, Beginnings to 1600" by Haruo Shirane (Columbia). This last book, for example, contains 8 plays: Aoi no ue ("Lady Aoi"), Sotoba Komachi ("Stupa Komachi"), Matsukaze ("Pining Wind"), Takasago, Atsumori, Sumidagawa ("Sumida River"), Nonomiya ("Shrine in the Fields"), and Ataka - a well-balanced and representative selection.
Read Waley only after you have exhausted the above three collections and are looking for more translations.
December 16, 2023
I’ve been meaning to read this for quite a while. I’m only casually interesting in all the ritual movements and their meanings, but I am very interested in the overall sensibility of the storytelling involved. I was not aware of the consistent brevity of these plays. Most of them took only 10 to 15 minutes to read. The themes that were covered from play to play fascinated me. There is, especially, a regular obsession with ghosts being at the center of the tale. I have found myself recalling several of the stories as I go about my day.
I have another anthology of Noh Plays, this one published by Penguin Classics. Perusing the contents, I see some of the same material, but enough new material to be worth reading a second book on the same topic.
I have another anthology of Noh Plays, this one published by Penguin Classics. Perusing the contents, I see some of the same material, but enough new material to be worth reading a second book on the same topic.
November 17, 2025
Included the following No plays:
Atsumori
Ikuta
Tsunemasa
Kumasaka
Eboshi-ori*
Benkei on the Bridge
Kagekiyo
Hachi No Ki*
Sotoba Komachi
Ikai
Aya No Tsuzumi
Aoi No Uye
Kantan*
The Hoka Priests
Hagoromo
Taniko (part 1 only)
Ikeniye (part 1 only)
Hatsuyuki
Haku Rakuten
Kyogen
* = personal favorites. I read this book here and there over the course of a year. I really enjoyed reading these. They can be read individually in short sittings and are an interesting glimpse into a part of Japanese culture. The translator's notes are pretty detailed and add some appreciated context.
Atsumori
Ikuta
Tsunemasa
Kumasaka
Eboshi-ori*
Benkei on the Bridge
Kagekiyo
Hachi No Ki*
Sotoba Komachi
Ikai
Aya No Tsuzumi
Aoi No Uye
Kantan*
The Hoka Priests
Hagoromo
Taniko (part 1 only)
Ikeniye (part 1 only)
Hatsuyuki
Haku Rakuten
Kyogen
* = personal favorites. I read this book here and there over the course of a year. I really enjoyed reading these. They can be read individually in short sittings and are an interesting glimpse into a part of Japanese culture. The translator's notes are pretty detailed and add some appreciated context.
May 7, 2023
waley's versions a occasionally a little too english tinged but still have a remarkable beauty
June 27, 2025
Excellent collection of nō plays; I think these are a great introduction for anyone who is interested in reading more about them!
September 12, 2015
Reading this 20-play book, “The No Plays of Japan” translated by Arthur Waley was, I think, like finding a literary treasure, for instance, some written by Seami, “an actor-author of the fourteenth century” (p. 5) and other classical No playwrights. Indeed, the famous No plays have primarily been performed for audience to watch and hear; therefore, enjoying them by reading is contentedly secondary. Moreover, his ‘Preface’ (pp. 5-59) is a must we should read for more understanding on this unique Japanese genre.
However, reading “Five Modern No Plays” (Vintage, 2009) by Yukio Mishima to gain inspiring familiarity and sound background would be a good idea. In the meantime, comparatively speaking, his first page of ‘Kantan’ would be presented as follows:
KANTAN
CHARACTERS:
Jiro
Kiku
(Dream Personages):
The Beauty
Dancers
Gentlemen
Private Secretary
Celebrated Physician
Doctors
Female Employee
(Before the curtain.)
Kiku
(Her voice is heard from offstage.) It’s so wonderful you’ve come.
Jiro
(also offstage) It’s been ten years, hasn’t it, Kiku?
Kiku
You’ve grown so big. … Oh, I’ll carry it.
Jiro
No, I’ve got it. That’s all right.
Kiku
Please let me have it. I can manage. It’s only a suitcase.
(Kiku enters with a suitcase. She is a woman of about forty. She is followed by Jiro, a young man of eighteen, in a double-breasted suit.)
… (pp. 79-81)
The following extract is from “The No Plays of Japan”:
KANTAN
Persons
Hostess.
Rosei.
Envoy.
Two Litter Bearers.
Boy Dancer.
Two Courtiers.
Chorus.
Hostess.
I who now stand before you am a woman of the village of Kantan in China. A long while ago I gave lodging to one who practiced the arts of wizardry; and as payment he left here a famous pillow, called the Pillow of Kantan. He who sleeps on this pillow sees in a moment’s dream the past or future spread out before him, and so awakes illumined. If it should chance that any worshipful travelers arrive to-day, pray send for me.
(She takes the pillow and lays it on the covered “dais” which represents at first the bed and afterwards the palace.)
Rosei (enters).
Lost on the journey of life, shall I learn at last
That I trod but a path of dreams?
My name is Rosei, and I have come from the land of Shoku. Though born to a man’s estate, I have not sought Buddha’s Way, but have drifted from dusk to dawn and dawn to dusk.
They tell me that on the Hill of the Flying Sheep in the land of So there lives a mighty sage; and now I am hastening to visit him that he may tell by what rule I should conduct my life.
… (p. 195)
However, reading “Five Modern No Plays” (Vintage, 2009) by Yukio Mishima to gain inspiring familiarity and sound background would be a good idea. In the meantime, comparatively speaking, his first page of ‘Kantan’ would be presented as follows:
KANTAN
CHARACTERS:
Jiro
Kiku
(Dream Personages):
The Beauty
Dancers
Gentlemen
Private Secretary
Celebrated Physician
Doctors
Female Employee
(Before the curtain.)
Kiku
(Her voice is heard from offstage.) It’s so wonderful you’ve come.
Jiro
(also offstage) It’s been ten years, hasn’t it, Kiku?
Kiku
You’ve grown so big. … Oh, I’ll carry it.
Jiro
No, I’ve got it. That’s all right.
Kiku
Please let me have it. I can manage. It’s only a suitcase.
(Kiku enters with a suitcase. She is a woman of about forty. She is followed by Jiro, a young man of eighteen, in a double-breasted suit.)
… (pp. 79-81)
The following extract is from “The No Plays of Japan”:
KANTAN
Persons
Hostess.
Rosei.
Envoy.
Two Litter Bearers.
Boy Dancer.
Two Courtiers.
Chorus.
Hostess.
I who now stand before you am a woman of the village of Kantan in China. A long while ago I gave lodging to one who practiced the arts of wizardry; and as payment he left here a famous pillow, called the Pillow of Kantan. He who sleeps on this pillow sees in a moment’s dream the past or future spread out before him, and so awakes illumined. If it should chance that any worshipful travelers arrive to-day, pray send for me.
(She takes the pillow and lays it on the covered “dais” which represents at first the bed and afterwards the palace.)
Rosei (enters).
Lost on the journey of life, shall I learn at last
That I trod but a path of dreams?
My name is Rosei, and I have come from the land of Shoku. Though born to a man’s estate, I have not sought Buddha’s Way, but have drifted from dusk to dawn and dawn to dusk.
They tell me that on the Hill of the Flying Sheep in the land of So there lives a mighty sage; and now I am hastening to visit him that he may tell by what rule I should conduct my life.
… (p. 195)
dnf
August 22, 2016Besides the introduction and notes on Buddhism (found both interesting), I read only the first play, Atsumori, and did not continue. I think the translation is slightly awkward--it feels disjointed and too literal. Arthur Waley -for the most part- kept the play in verse as it is in its original form. I found more natural translations of Atsumori on different websites so I think I'll stick to those as I read more Noh plays.
January 20, 2008
this review refers to the grove edition of the book not the crappy dover one ewww
Read
March 7, 2014I thought this would be more explanatory and break the plays down but it's only the raw plays. Read a few, then put the book down.
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