Met Museum: The Tale of Genji

The current exhibit at the Met Museum, The Tale of Genji: A Japanese Classic Illuminated, celebrates the eleventh century novel authored by Murasaki Shikibu that has for over a thousand years been considered the greatest single work of Japanese literature.  As such, Genji monogatari has over time become so central to the development of Japanese culture that it is impossible to overestimate the importance it holds for the people of Japan.  The book has inspired countless works of art, only a selection of which could be fitted into this exhibit.

As one might expect, a large number of items on display are devoted to the calligraphy with which the novel was written.  In the Heian period, the use of written Chinese characters was reserved exclusively for men.  Accordingly, Genji was written in native Japanese kana script.  Although the text written by Murasaki herself has long since been lost, there are numerous early examples of handwritten manuscripts notable for their fine calligraphy and artwork.  These were painstakingly inked on mulberry paper and bound into booklets, each containing a single chapter of the vast work.

The large number of artworks shown consists of handscrolls, folding screens, ukiyo-e (including two by Tsukioka Yoshitoshi taken from his masterpiece One Hundred Aspects of the Moon) and even twenty-first century manga prints by Yamoto Waki, all of which illustrate famous scenes from the novel.  In addition, there are handicrafts such as lacquered writing boxes, tea bowls, incense burners, kimonos, and even an authentic bridal palanquin, though almost all these are of much more recent date.

While all the works shown at the exhibit are worthy of attention, if I had to choose a single work for closer examination it would be a 1631 pair of six-panel folding screens entitled Miotsukushi ("Channel Markers") and Sekiya ("The Barrier Gate"), both of which are National Treasures, by renowned Edo artist Tawaraya Sōtatsu. As the museum's website states:

"This pair of screens has long been considered a masterpiece within the history of Japanese art. Most notably, they reveal an artist freely reinterpreting the tradition of Genji painting, not merely by adapting miniature-style painting to large-format screens but also by transforming the visual language of Genji illustration through simplification, clear-cut geometry, and an emphasis on materiality. Each episode represents a chance encounter between Genji and a former lover, and both scenes employ gates related to travel and pilgrimage, which perhaps led to their pairing here. Recent research shows that the screens were made in 1631; as one of only two securely dated works by Tawaraya Sōtatsu, they are crucial for understanding the artist’s still relatively enigmatic biography."

As for the novel itself, I reviewed it as follows last summer on the Goodreads site:

"If of the thousands of novels I've read I had to put together a list of the 10 best Genji monogatari would be at the top. It's not only the world's first major novel but also the most beautiful. This is the third time I've read it and am more deeply impressed than ever. Murasaki Shikibu is among the literature's greatest stylists. In describing the doings of an elite aristocracy over a period of decades she clearly anticipates Proust. Like the French author, she is not only capable of handling a large cast of characters but is also able to demonstrate convincingly the manner in which the passage of time transforms their various personalities as well as the interrelationships that exist among them. 

"The book actually consists of two novels. The second part is really a sequel to the first and was almost definitely written by a different author, most probably Murasaki's daughter Daini no Sanmi who authored several romances of her own that are now lost. Clearly there is a different style and sensibility at work in the second section. Not only are there fewer principal characters in the later chapters but the stately elegance of the first part is replaced by a more melodramatic approach that at times comes perilously close to that of a modern romance novel. Nevertheless, several of the characterizations, such as that of Kaoru, are psychologically penetrating. And the final chapters contain a plot twist worthy of any modern author, though Western readers may find the ending a disappointment. One wonders if the author had really intended to stop at that point. 

"At the heart of the book is the concept of mono no aware, a phrase Murasaki employs more than 1,000 times in the course of the novel and which is usually translated as 'the pathos of things' but more closely signifies a melancholy resignation to the transience of life itself. It's this pervading sentiment that gives the book its ineffable beauty. It is most often expressed in conjunction with the change of seasons or in imagery taken from nature, as in my favorite line from the book: 'Why to my heart must things be ever dearest that vanish more swiftly than the morning dew?' The literary device of furukoto (literally, 'old words') that contains allusions to old poems, both Japanese and Chinese, enhances the emotional impact."

The exhibit continues through June 16, 2019.