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April 22, 2009

A set epithet

My father’s Noh play (traditional masked dance-drama) was Hosho style. He made it a rule to visit Etajima Island every Saturday. There were about twenty disciples on the island．So I, too, often crossed the bay to Etajima with my father on week-ends. My father’s pupils were waiting for us there and I used to play with them. One of the spots we played often was around “Cherry tree in memory of the same class”. I joined a chorus to sing, “You and I belonged to the cherry tree of the same class”, not really knowing its meaning. When I visited the island a few years ago on account of some business, the tree was still there exactly at the same place. I felt I smelled sweet-sour air.

My father composed waka poems time and again. A little notebook was always in his pocket, on which he wrote a waka whenever he had inspiration even on a tram. Well, that may be the way to do with poets. When my father became eighty-eight of the age, I selected a few hundred poems out of my father’s works to have made three hundred poem booklets by offset printing. He was very much pleased with this present from me.

When I talked with him about the booklet by phone, I asked him “What color of a cover you like?” he said, “Any color is alright”, to which I replied, “Since this is celebration of your happy age of ‘beiju’ (eighty-eight: age of good luck), how about make it beige?” I was expecting of his laughing at this pun joke, but he simply answered, “That’s good”, which made me a little uneasy. Uneasiness stuck in my mind, so I telephoned my brother who said, “Yeah, seems to be getting ill”. This was just about the time my father’s words and deeds were getting somewhat strange. I knew this was what a man had to go through, nevertheless which made me very sad.

He sometimes told me about a makura-kotoba (a set epithet: literally meaning “pillow word”), for which explanation he most frequently quoted examples from the poems of Kakinomoto Hitomaro. For instance:

“Akanesasu Hihateraseredo Nubatamano Yoruwatarutukino Kakurakuoshimo”

(Sun shines to make the world bright, while pity is moon hiding at nighttime)

In this poem, the two set epithets are used in the first and third phrases, i.e. “Akanesasu” and “Nubatamano”. In my infant mind, I didn’t understand why two epithets were used in the poem of only thirty-one letters. I thought if a composer wanted to say many things, it would be far better without empty-meaning set epithets.

My father explained to me that a set epithet would make the following word much more “emotionally expanding”. Even today, I think I do not really understand meaning of a set epithet, but when I was paging “Shakko” (red light) by Mokichi Saito, I happened to find the following poem:

Nodoakaki Tsubakuramefutatsu Hariniite Tarachinenohahaha Shinitamaunari

(Two swallows red in throat perching on a beam as if watching my dear mother dying)

The poem reminded me of my father’s voice. I remember he often talked about this poem. He said, “Mokichi’s style is to use a set epithet on seven letters phrase other than on the first or third phrases. This is his originality.” At that time it was hard for me to understand the meaning of a set epithet, however, I now remember I felt somewhat slightly understanding of “emotional expansion” about the epithet “tarachineno”. I have now come to realization that it must have been Mokichi’s swelling emotional love to his deceased mother. A set epithet could possibly be “art of poem” very much fitting Japanese mental structure. Why is it that often times I really want to get absorbed in the world of “Manyo-shu” (The Anthology of Myriad Leaves)?

I welcome your opinions on this column to the following E-mail address.
matogawa@planetary.or.jp

(Translated by The Planetary Society of Japan)