Saikaku-Bakin Symposium, Paris Cité University, 20-22 March, 2025
PAPER ABSTRACTS (In order of presentation)
Panel 1 (5:30-7:30pm, Thursday 20 March)
(1) “What Is Fiction For? Ueda Akinari’s Kamakura Tales and the Bounds of Narrative”
David Atherton, Harvard University
Ueda Akinari (1734-1809) is perhaps the most celebrated rewriter of the Edo period. His fiction collection Ugetsu monogatari (Tales of Moonlight and Rain, 1776) famously weaves together over sixty Chinese and more than one hundred Japanese intertexts into nine evocative tales.Whereas Ugetsu has been appreciated as a “mosaic” that achieves a balanced elegance in its seamless reworking of sources, Akinari’s later fiction became more idiosyncratic and experimental, veering away from balance in ways that pushed the boundaries of genre. My presentation will examine two lesser-known later works of historical fiction by Akinari, both set at the beginning of the Kamakura period. “Tsuki no mae” (Before the Moon) depicts an encounter between the shogun Minamoto no Yoritomo and the poet-monk Saigyō; “Tsurugi no mai” (The Sword Dance) portrays the dance performed before Yoritomo by Shizuka, the lover of Yoritomo’s half-brother and nemesis Yoshitsune. For both stories, Akinari relied heavily on entries from Azuma kagami (13th-14th c.), the medieval chronicle of the Kamakura shogunate written in an idiosyncratic version of kanbun.
Far from straightforward adaptations into classical Japanese, however, Akinari fleshed out details from Azuma kagami with arguments and ideas he had been developing through his scholarship and poetic practice—in particular, ideas about the relationship between creativity, art, and power. The two “stories” thus straddle the boundary between narrative, scholarship, and treatise. So unusual are they as works of fiction that Noguchi Takehiko has even referred to them as “miscarried” tales. And indeed, when the stories were published, they appeared not in a fiction collection, but as the only two tales in Tsuzurabumi (Bamboo Box Writings, 1804-1806), a six- volume compendium of Akinari’s poetry and neoclassical prose that itself pushes the boundaries of genre, style, and subject matter. Akinari’s rewriting of scenes from Kamakura history and legend thus invites us to think about the boundaries of language, style, and genre and the question of what separates fiction from other modes of writing. And the experimental mode of Akinari’s late years that they represent—one that amalgamated scholarship with creative invention and pushed against convention—may offer hints to new modes of humanistic work in our own time.
(2) “Reading Jōruri Narratives”
Andrew Gerstle, SOAS University of London
It can be argued that the most consistently popular narrative genre in the Edo period was Jōruri plays. A large number of the more than 1000 plays from Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s (1653-1725) time onwards remained in print until the late 19th century. Many readers of these narratives learned gidayū chanting as a hobby, and for this reason, the texts were published as ‘authentic editions’ (shōhon) with musical notation for voice included from the late 17th century onwards. Once fluent with the conventions of Jōruri performance through training from a chanter/teacher, individuals could ‘read’ other Jōruri narratives either voicing the words or imagining them being performed.
Learning gidayū chanting as a hobby was extremely popular throughout Japan from the early-to-mid-18th until into the 20th century. Consequently, commercial demand for Jōruri books, even for works not in the performance repertoire, remained considerable among lending libraries (kashihon’ya) as well as booksellers.
In my presentation I will consider the question of what this convention of ‘reading’ Jōruri meant by examining some text examples. I will also raise questions on what this might have meant for reading other narrative genres.
Panel 2 (Friday 21 March, 10:00am-12:00pm)
(1) “Jippensha Ikku’s practice of serial publication and the emergence of an interactive readership”
William Fleming, UC Santa Barbara
After publishing the first eight installments of his serial masterpiece and runaway bestseller Tōkaidōchū hizakurige (Hoofing It Along the Tōkaidō Highway) between 1802 and 1822, Jippensha Ikku (1765‐1831) continued to crank out numerous sequels and initiated a comic‐book variation titled Kane no waraji (Iron Sandals, 1813‐1834). Other writers published imitations and spin‐offs of their own. These works follow the same broad pattern, chronicling the adventures of a pair of male protagonists as they wend their way up and down the Japanese archipelago, taking in all the landscape has to offer: famous sights, local delicacies, regional dialects, colorful personalities, and a stream of sexual adventures. This chapter examines the development of a reciprocal relationship between author and reader in these “Hizakurige pieces” that was enabled by the practice of serial publication. Ikku appealed to an ever‐growing readership not just through humor and a vicarious vision of travel, but by holding out the promise that, in the course of their never‐ending travels, his protagonists might pass through any given reader’s own home region. In his paratextual apparatuses, he offered first‐person accounts of his own research trips (often subsidized by his publisher), and as readers from these places responded in person or through letters, he engaged with them and adjusted his approach to his material. Through this feedback loop, there emerged a new form of interactive readership that brought readers themselves into the creative process.
[Cancelled] “Saikaku’s ‘self-replication’ for the mass production of his works”
Hatanaka Chiaki, Keiai University
Although numerous papers have been published on individual chapters of Saikaku’s works, the method by which he compiled these chapters into volumes remains unclear. Are the chapters in each work simply grouped by common themes, such as love, vengeance, justice, or wealth? Or is there a specific rule governing the arrangement of chapters? Although close readings of individual chapters can be intriguing as they unravel certain mysteries, such analyses often overlook the broader structure of the compilation.
To discover the principles behind Saikaku’s editing system, this paper suggests that he may have used his own works as templates, producing variations by altering details or situations. For example, in The Great Mirror of Male Love, triangular love affairs are a recurring theme, often involving a man who falls in love with one of two lovers, typically a young underage samurai (若衆). This triangle usually consists of a young samurai, his elder lover (念者, sometimes his lord 大名), and a third man. A generous lord may give the young samurai to the third man, while an enraged one may take the young samurai’s life. When the elder lover and the third man are of equal rank, they often engage in a duel to defend their own honor. The men usually struggle over the young samurai. However, in the third chapter of the fourth volume, after several chapters of fierce battles, Saikaku presents a different triangular dynamic, where the third man forms an intimate relationship with the elder lover, leaving the young samurai behind. This demonstrates a strategy of standardization while simultaneously deviating from established conventions.
Notably, the first half of The Great Mirror of Male Love begins with a rare couple of young boys, only nine years old, and concludes with an infrequent pair of elderly men. Saikaku presents typical male love stories across numerous chapters, but he introduces exceptional cases at the beginning and the end. This paper concludes that Saikaku’s strategy of “self-replication” paved the way for the mass production of his works.
(2) “Hyakumonogatari and setsuwa pastiche in Shokoku hyakumonogatari’s depictions of the return of dead wives”
Angelo Wong, Columbia University
Recent scholarship in early modern Japanese literature has explored the relationship between early modern Japanese oratory, theatre, and popular literary genres. However, the relationship between oratory genres and late 17th-century kanazōshi fiction that depict strange phenomena—which some scholars have categorised as “kaidan,” or “stories of the strange”—remains understudied, limiting the methodological approaches available to study these texts. I examine the stories in the kanazōshi story collection Shokoku hyakumonogatari (A Hundred Stories from Various Provinces, pub. 1677), arguing that the collection produces a textual “hanashi” space in which tropes adapted from Buddhist setsuwa and noh plays are reiterated. The anonymously-authored collection presents stories depicting strange phenomena in two contexts. The first is the context of a “hyakumonogatari” (hundred stories) gathering, which the text depicts as a space for the communal sharing of “hanashi” (oral stories) and the possibility of encountering strange phenomena. The second is as a collection of “shokoku monogatari” (stories from various provinces), a genre category that Ihara Saikaku later drew on in Saikaku shokokubanashi (Saikaku’s Stories from Various Provinces, 1685). I first evaluate the notion of “hanashi” presented in Shokoku hyakumonogatari by mapping out the sources from which the collection’s stories are adapted. As I will show, many of Shokoku hyakumonogatari’s stories are in fact adapted from textual sources, but the sources often make claims to being records of oral stories. I then examine the collection’s depictions of the coming of a dead wife to her husband, a prominent theme in its stories. I argue that such depictions defamiliarise the interiors of samurai houses by pastiching tropes associated with female jealousy from Buddhist setsuwa and noh plays. I conclude that Shokoku hyakumonogatari’s depiction of the coming of the dead in the textual hyakumonogatari space shows how depictions of the strange in kanazōshi literature must be read in terms of the genres in which it is presented, which necessitates a re-evaluation of “the strange” as an analytical category.
Panel 3 (Friday 21 March, 2:30-4:00pm)
(1) “Yoshiwara goes to theatre. Some considerations regarding the evolution of sharebon in the Tenmei and Kansei eras”
Cristian Pallone, Bergamo University
One of the most peculiar products of Eighteenth-century Edo culture is certainly the sharebon (witty books). These mainly dialogue-based witty books did not necessarily achieve significant commercial success but rather gained a considerable reputation among connoisseurs of Edo’s nightlife. In 1770 Yūshi hōgen (The Libertine’s Dialect) set a standard for these types of stories, envisioning a narrative structure where oppositional male characters move together in a spatial departure spanning from the city centre to the pleasure quarter of Yoshiwara. There, they drink, chat and flirt with courtesans and other entertainers until dawn breaks and the teahouse boy appears right on time to remind them it is time to go home. The cliche d plot and the presence of witty dialogues shaped the sharebon’s essence, but it should be mentioned that some authors put a considerable artistic effort in trying to innovate the format in many ways, sometimes also moving from Yoshiwara in search of other delightful places where their characters could spend enjoyable and witty evenings.
The sharebon developed over a limited time period, however it produced a significant number of titles, generating a large corpus of texts. Traversing this corpus, it is difficult to imagine other genres whose stylistic features have been so meticulously repeated and at the same time so often exposed, surpassed, and challenged.
Among the texts that deviate from the stylistic standards, some are notable for incorporating elements from theatrical tradition both in narrative content and style. In other words, a genre that based its peculiarity on the extensive presence of dialogues, organised on the page like those of a theatrical script, found in theatre a way to escape from itself and even reinvent itself. Through theatre, sharebon not only partially succeeded in popularising the culture of Yoshiwara but, more importantly, by stepping out of the authorised pleasure district, attempted a ‘Yoshiwarisation’ of Edo urban space and its districts.
The aim of this paper is to evaluate the importance of theatrical culture in the evolution of sharebon as a genre, particularly during the Tenmei and Kansei eras. Additionally, it aims to analyse the significant role of sharebon authors in portraying Yoshiwara – sometimes breaking the enchantment of the city that never sleeps to reveal aspects of the inhuman nature of its everyday life – and through Yoshiwara, Edo’s entire urban community.
(2) “Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s Later Battles of Coxinga and The Edo-Period Discovery of Taiwan”
William Hedberg, Arizona State University
Although mapmaking and cartography are well-studied subfields in the political and cultural history of early modern Japan, far less attention has been paid to the ways in which interest in the regions beyond the borders of Japan impacted the Edo-period literary imaginary. This presentation takes as its focus Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s jōruri puppet play The Later Battles of Coxinga (Kokusen’ya gonichi kassen): a sequel to the 1715 smash hit Battles of Coxinga, and a work that also centers on the 1644 Manchu conquest of the Ming. Like its parent text, The Later Battles is a work in which maps, charts, and diagrams (zu) of all kinds play an important role in the basic plot of the narrative, and on a deeper level, it is apparent that Chikamatsu relied on contemporary maps and reference works in his imaginative reconstruction of seventeenth-century China. Although clearly a work of fiction with little interest in a geographically or ethnographically “accurate” portrayal of continental Asia, the play nevertheless partakes in a larger redefinition of Japan’s relation to “proximate Others” on the fringes of the Chinese world order. In particular, the regions of Manchuria and Taiwan, areas either denigrated or entirely ignored in the original play, assume central significance in The Later Battles as civilizational tabulae rasae: sites where hierarchies between centers and frontiers might be restructured and reversed, and catalysts for the creative reimagination of a multi-polar world order that alternately engages and challenges the world-view posited in other spheres of Edo-period cultural production.
Panel 4 (Friday 21 March, 4:30-6:00pm)
(1) “The Spoken Language of Women in Shikitei Sanba’s Ukiyo Buro”
Paola Maschio, University of Milan
The kokkeibon (“comical books”) genre, characterized by its colloquial and conversational style (kaiwatai), played a pivotal role in popularizing literature. Shikitei Sanba’s Ukiyo Buro (published between 1809 and 1813) stands as a significant work within the genre, appealing to a broader readership beyond the literary elite.
A distinctive feature of Ukiyo Buro lies in its extensive portrayal of dialogues between women, with two out of four chapters focusing on these interactions (“The Women’s Bath” and “The Maid’s Bath”). The question arises: What are the characteristics of women’s spoken language in Ukiyo Buro, and how does spoken language contribute to character portrayal?
Previous scholarship highlights the influence of wagei, or “narration arts,” on Sanba and other kokkeibon authors. These arts encompass storytelling, comedic acts, and other oral performances. Consequently, characters in kokkeibon (and other popular genres) often conform to established patterns or conventions, leading some critics to label them as “role types” or “stereotypes.” However, Sanba’s portrayal of spoken language is often considered realistic.
This apparent contradiction calls for further research on characters in comical books. This is particularly relevant for women characters, which are scarce in early modern Japanese literature and arts. Honda (1973) notes that a core demographic of Sanba’s devoted readers consisted of women. Their affinity for Ukiyo Buro suggests that the conversational language employed in the text resonated with them.
This paper aims to explore women’s spoken language in Ukiyo Buro and its relationship with various role types, particularly those associated with narration and performing arts. The popularity of Ukiyo Buro among common readers extended well into the Meiji period, as numerous later reprints show. In the final section I will compare my findings with the studies on the modern onna kotoba (“women’s language”), a sort of “role language” spoken by women in real life, believed to have originated in the Meiji period.
(2) “The Question of Humor in Ihara Saikaku’s Fiction”
David J. Gundry, University of California, Davis
Samurai trained to throw away their lives over small points of honor, yet who cower fearfully upon hearing ghost stories or the sound of thunder, neglected palace ladies who wear out dildos through overuse, prostitutes who employ flatulence to express their anger with clients, a misogynistic pair of elderly male lovers who exhort their neighbor to beat his wife to death: the humor of Ihara Saikaku’s (1642–1693) fiction is sometimes slapstick, often sexual, only infrequently scatological, and occasionally exquisitely subtle. In many cases it is also extremely dark, or contrasts markedly with the otherwise grim context in which it is to be found.
Such strikingly diverse humor constitutes a major selling point in the complex and sophisticated entertainments Saikaku produced for a mass audience consisting largely of late 17th-century Japan’s newly numerous ranks of literate commoners. To the extent that time allows, this presentation will first survey the range of comedy in Saikaku’s fiction, drawing examples from Kōshoku ichidai otoko (The Life of an Amorous Man, 1682), Kōshoku gonin onna (Five Women Who Loved Love, 1686), Honchō nijū fukou (Twenty Cases of Filial Impiety in Japan, 1686), Budō denraiki (Exemplary Tales of the Way of the Warrior, 1687), Nippon eitaigura (The Japanese Family Storehouse, 1688) and Seken mune sanyō (This Scheming World, 1692), including in the scope of its analysis the parody of elite literature and Confucian morality tales, humor as an ironic counterpoint to narratorial moralizing or encomia to the samurai, the satirizing of contrasting vices and obsessions (stinginess, extravagance, debauchery, asceticism), and comic reversals (e.g., the trickster is tricked, the parsimonious prude turns spendthrift whoremonger). It will then shift its focus to elements of humor in some of Saikaku’s more disturbing narratives, exploring their effects in the context of the pathos, violent action and horror that surrounds or interpenetrates them.
Panel 5 (Saturday 22 March, 10:00am-12:00pm)
(1) “When philological essays disguise as fiction: an analysis of Kyokutei Bakin’s Mukashigatari Shichiya no Kura (1811)”
Nicolas Mollard (Université Jean Moulin Lyon 3)
Mukashigatari Shichiya no Kura (Old Stories from the Pawnshop’s Warehouse) is a yomihon authored by Kyokutei Bakin and illustrated by Katsukawa Shuntei. This work, comprising five volumes, was published in 1810 through the collaboration of Kawauchi Daisuke in Osaka and Nishimura Yohachi in Edo. The narrative centers on a pawnbroker who, disturbed by noises emanating from his warehouse in the middle of the night, discovers to his astonishment a group of people gathered there, conversing through the night. These figures are the incarnations of pawned objects, each connected to well-known historical figures, coming to life to recount their personal stories. The book presents twelve such stories, including “The Short-Sleeved Kimono with Plover Patterns of Soga Jūrō” (No.3), “Tawara Tōta’s Quiver from the Dragon Palace” (No. 5) and “The Robe of the Nine-Tailed Fox of Tamamo no Mae” (No. 12).
At the time of its publication, Bakin was extensively engaged in various scholarly pursuits. Portions of this research were compiled into two volumes of philological essays (kōshō zuihitsu) entitled Enseki zasshi (A Collection of Fake Gems, 1811) and Nimaze no Ki (A Stew of Notes, 1811). These materials, published or not, informed the intricate details and subplots of his historical novels, as demonstrated in the case of Chinsetsu Yumiharizuki (The Marvelous Story of the Drawn-Bow Moon, 1807-1811). Shichiya no Kura, however, is unique in its departure from a traditional yomihon narrative structure. Under the guise of minimalist fiction, Bakin provides commentary on historical anecdotes (kojitsu) and popular legends (zokusetsu), aligning with the tradition of Izawa Banryū’s Kōeki Zokusetsuben (A Critique of Popular Stories for the General Benefit, 1717-1727).
This presentation will investigate Bakin’s rationale for choosing this quasi-novelistic form, which he later described as a “kind of Zokusetsuben in satirical prose.” Ostensibly addressing a youthful audience familiar only with popular language, metaphors, and jokes, this analysis will reveal what this choice discloses about the author’s philological approach to historical anecdotes and his intent to engage a broader readership.
(2) “Rewriting Japanese Story into Chinese Form: Engi kyōgiden and the Unruly Women in Early Modern Japan”
Ye Yuan, Oberlin College
On the eighteenth day of the third month of the second year of the Kan’en period (1749), a woman in Osaka named Kashiku was executed for killing her brother. Although the details of the fratricide remain unknown, it likely occurred at the end of the previous year. Kashiku, a ransomed courtesan, exhibited notable bravery at her execution, inspiring theatrical performances, literati accounts, and popular admiration.
Compared to the substantial theatrical performances related to Kashiku, her presence in prose fiction is rare. This paper examines one such fiction, Engi kyōgiden 演義俠妓傳 (Tale of a Courtesan Knight-Errant, c.a.1758– 1782). Unlike the most famous Kashiku play, which portrays her as a compassionate woman who inadvertently kills her brother while protecting her friends; Kyōgiden presents her as an alcoholic and promiscuous woman who fatally strikes her brother in a drunken rage when confronted about her scandalous affairs, clearly depicting her as an unruly woman.
Writing the Japanese story in the language and style of Ming-Qing Chinese popular fiction, Kyōgiden illustrates the intersections of China and Japan, print and theater, and elite and popular cultures. Through textual reference, it engages with the network of Chinese femme fatale stories and famous Japanese amorous women. The latter appear in Ihara Saikaku’s (1642–1693) Five Women Who Loved Love (1686), also based on historical figures who committed real crimes driven by erotic affairs but inspired admiration and literary imagination. Additionally, by calling Kashiku a kyō 俠 (Ch: xia, often translated into knight-errant), Kyōgiden positions her within narratives on female kyō, as seen in Ming-Qing popular fiction and Japanese yomihon (books for reading) fiction, such as Kyokutei Bakin’s (1767–1848) Open the Volume in Amazement: The Tale of Knight-Errant (vol 1–4, 1832–1835; vol 5, 1849). This study juxtaposes Kyōgiden with these literary traditions to explore their intricate interplay in early modern Japanese literary culture through the theme of unruly women.
(3) Humor, Historical Consciousness and Information Culture in Kyokutei Bakin’s Musō Byōei kochō monogatari
Kevin Mulholland, University of Montana
Towards the end of Kyokutei Bakin’s initial experimentation with the mid-length historical novel in prose (chûhen yomihon) and before his turn towards the serialized novels for which he is best known, he took a two-year hiatus to publish two unusual works, Musō Byōei kochō monogatari (MBKM) and Mukashi gatari shichiya no kura (MGSK), both published in 1810. Bakin himself recognizes the hybridity of these novels when he calls them “Madcap historical novels” and claims that he wants to try his hand at humor since he has “grown weary of revenge stories.” My talk argues that MBKM and MGSK are literary projects by Bakin that are born from three intersecting discourses. The first discourse is Bakin’s sensitivity towards the popularity of the newly emerging episodic prose novels (kokkeibon) focused on the quotidian, like Jippensha Ikku’s Tōkaidōchû hizakurige (1804-1814) and Shikitei Sanba’s Ukiyoburo (1809-1813). MBKM and MGSK are attempts by Bakin to join in on the popularity of prose humor. The second discourse is Bakin’s continuation of his historical projects both in writing novels and analyzing the contemporary literary history of Edo literature. This is evident by Bakin’s decision to adapt his own humorous novel from the progenitors of the Edo humorous novel genre (dangibon), including Hiraga Gennai’s Fûryû shidōkenden (1763) and Yûkokushi’s Wasō Byōei (1774). In other words, Bakin’s own foray into the newly emerging prose humor novel is inflected by a consciousness of the Edo’s recent literary past. The third discourse is tied to Bakin’s recent work with evidentiary scholarship, which he collated into several miscellaneous essays (zuihitsu) that were published in the years surrounding MBKM and MGSK. While most of Bakin’s work tends to showboat his erudite knowledge, MBKM and MGSK contain unusually direct access to Bakin’s outlooks on society and humanity. As such, I argue that MBKM and MGSK are outgrowths of Bakin’s work with cataloging his evidentiary scholarship and that the narrative and humor function as a vehicle for him to ruminate on his own scholarly research. The intersection of these three discourses—his need to compete within a newly emerging genre of humorous prose novel, the continuation of his historical exegesis of Edo’s literary history, and his desire to share his anthropological and historical research—merge to create two works that defy easy categorization and were among his most frequently reprinted novels.
Panel 6 (Saturday 22 March, 2:30-4:30pm)
(1) “Historiographical elements and the construction of historical meaning in Takai Ranzan’s Atsumori gaiden: Kitan Aoba no fue (1813)”
Morgaine Setzer-Mori, Ruhr-University Bochum, Germany
According to the 19th-century author Takai Ranzan (1762–1839), not everyone of his contemporaries was able to understand the contents of history books, thereby missing out on the benefits of reading them. However, this issue could be resolved by rewriting stories, making them more accessible. The enduring success of historical adaptations in early modern popular literature suggests a continuous interest in Japan’s past among the readership of the time. Episodes from war tales such as the Heike monogatari (13th c.) not only provided entertainment but also served as a basis for moral guidance and the transmission of knowledge about events and places of lasting cultural importance. This presentation aims to shed light on how Ranzan uses historiographical elements and constructs historical meaning in his yomihon based on the Heike monogatari. The focus will be on his Atsumori gaiden: Kitan Aoba no fue (1813), which combines the episode of Atsumori’s death in the battle of Ichi-no-tani with the plots of the Nō-plays Atsumori by Zeami Motokiyo (1363–1443) and Ikuta Atsumori by Konparu Zenpō (1454–1532?). Furthermore, only two years before Ranzan’s Aoba no fue, Katsugensai Nakamichi’s (?−?, fl. early 19th century) Kumagae Rensei ichidaiki (1811) was published, which tells almost the same story from the perspective of Atsumori’s antagonist Kumagai Naozane. It is apparent that Ranzan was drawing on theater plays and other literary genres to develop the plot of Aoba no fue. Furthermore, commercial interests likely influenced many decisions regarding the conception of this work. Nonetheless, this presentation argues that in Ranzan’s case pedagogic intentions in combination with historical knowledge outweigh his concern for aesthetical or entertaining aspects, by discussing Aoba no fue as a work of so-called ‘popular historical writing’. Consequently, it contributes to the still relatively small amount of research about Takai Ranzan as an author of yomihon.
(2) “Premodern Genji Commentaries and Tanehiko’s Nise Murasaki”
Jeffrey Knott, National Institute of Japanese Literature
Storied fictioneer Ryūtei Tanehiko’s (1783-1842) best-selling Nise Murasaki Inaka Genji (1829- 1842) has famously long proved resistant to consensus critical description. A venture perhaps in adaptation, or in translation, or in parody of the true Murasaki—or perhaps by turns any of these three if not, indeed, all three at once, Tanehiko’s representative work remains today, a near two centuries later, the subject of unresolved debate about its precise literary character. Yet this question of style, however important, has obscured an even more fundamental one of subject: what, precisely, is this false Genji an adaptation, or a translation, or a parody actually of?
What was in fact the Tale of Genji that underlay this Edo gōkan avatar? Primarily the question is not a textual, but a hermeneutic one. It is not posed, stemmatically, with reference to the one particular Genji variant-complex, out of a competing multiplicity, Tanehiko made his base-text, nor in reference to the precise character of that textual choice. Instead, the question is one of pre-Tanehiko reception, and proceeds from the premise that what he (or any reader) had access to was not the Genji of ancient Heian in any direct fashion, but rather the result of an intervening eight centuries’ interpretive effort to make sense of, and to find significance in, extant forms of that original. What understandings of the Genji did Tanehiko reproduce, by selection and inadvertence, in the course of his great popularization? The issue is particularly significant because Tanehiko was working, it seems, from the renowned Kogetsushō (1673) text-cum-commentary edition of the Tale of Genji prepared and woodblock- published by the poet-literatus Kitamura Kigin (1624-1705). This work of scholarship, the most successful in all Genji commentary history, remains even today understudied, but can nonetheless with perfect certainty be thus characterized: as profoundly polyphonic. It shares with several other late Warring-States era commentaries a fundamental policy of explicit anthology, consisting largely of duly-cited excerpts from the late-medieval golden age of Genji scholarship, but stands out among them for its sharper policy of selection, one largely limit-forced by page-space and the exigencies of publishing. As such, the Kogetsushō commentary offered Tanehiko a broad yet judiciously-chosen palette of interpretive directions and stances with which at will he might paint.
The goal of this paper, from the perspective of Genji reception history, is an exploratory investigation into how, when producing Nise Murasaki Inaka Genji, Tanehiko went about wielding this repertoire.
(3) “The Alluring Poisonous Woman: Oren in Kyokutei Bakin’s Shinpen Kinpeibai”
Shan Ren, University of Oregon
Kyokutei Bakin’s (1767-1848) gōkan work, Shinpen Kinpeiba (New Edition of the Plum in the Golden Vase, 1831-1847) is the last major work of popular fiction completed before his death in 1848. This text achieved widespread popularity both during Bakin’s lifetime and posthumously. As the title suggests, it is a loose adaptation of the famous Chinese vernacular novel titled Jin Ping Mei (The Plum in the Golden Vase), yet the narrative and writing style diverge significantly from its original source.
A central theme of New Plum is its exploration of personal desire, in contrast to Bakin’s earlier works such as Nansō Satomi Hakkenden (The Eight Dogs), which follow the military tradition. New Plum instead focuses on domestic conflicts within a single family, with the female character Oren at the center. I argue that Oren’s successful characterization as a poisonous woman and the popularity she enjoyed among readers challenge the Confucian ideal that self-cultivation could lead to familial prosperity, state stability, and peace under heaven. Despite the author’s frequent invocation of the moral principle kanzen chōaku (to praise good and chastise evil) at the beginning of each installment of New Plum, Oren never surrenders to Confucian gender norms and moral expectations. Instead, she embraces her own desires, using both men and women as tools to navigate and survive in a world that is depicted as fundamentally corrupt and beyond moral restoration.
The analysis is structured into three key sections. First, an examination of the hottan (prologue) of New Plum reveals Bakin’s metaphorical construction of Oren’s family as a microcosm of the state or even the world under heaven. Oren’s refusal to engage in self-cultivation thus functions as a critique of the Confucian belief on the restoring and curing power of self-cultivation. Second, a study of the commentaries provided by Bakin’s three close friends offers a valuable contemporary reader’s perspective on Oren’s character. Third, a close analysis of several illustrations pairing Oren with three other characters highlights her transformation from a passive young girl commodified by her sexuality to an active, calculating poisonous woman who skillfully manipulates both men and women by weaponizing her sexual capital in order to ensure her own survival amidst a chaotic, morally bankrupt world.