Customer Reviews

The Tale of Genji (Dover Thrift Editions)

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A longtime admirer of Murasaki Shikibu's exceptional work, I fell in love with Genji first through Arthur Waley's translation, which made this admittedly exotic novel accessible to non-Japanese readers. Curious to know more about the Heian period and culture, I acquired Ivan Morris's tremendously helpful and readable "The World of the Shining Prince." Then I discovered Edward Seidensticker's superb rendering of "The Tale of Genji," and have read and re-read that version with deepening understanding and enjoyment. Seidensticker, while presumably adhering closer to the language of the original (which even modern Japanese find difficult to read), gave us a translation which is perfumed by the sensuous beauty of what must have been a truly refined and special time and place (albeit a very limited one).

Now comes Royall Tyler's superb effort, which comes with myriad and very helpful details: each chapter starts with an explanation of the chapter title, how the section relates to previous chapters and the cast of characters. There are also generous appendices including a chronology of events in the novel and a glossary. Line drawings throughout the two volumes (also present in Seidensticker) provide helpful visual clues as to dress and architecture. Tyler's effort seems even closer to the original language, and thereby lies the problem.

This version unnecessarily burdens the reader with ever-changing nomenclature. Since in the original characters are known by their rank-names, and Tyler (mostly) adheres to this usage, the reader is challenged to keep up with the changes. Put the book down for a day or two and you will feel quite lost for several minutes when you restart. As an aide, the translator does provide footnotes to clue you in, but this just makes things more awkward and tedious. For example, at the start of Chapter 43, "Red Plum Blossom" in Tyler's version: "There was in those days a gentleman known as the Inspector Grand Counselor, the late Chancellor's second son, hence the younger brother of the Intendant of the Watch (1)" This same sentence in Seidensticker reads: "Kobai, the oldest surviving son of the late To no Chujo, was now Lord Inspector." How much more to the point!

To conclude, while Tyler's translation is awesome in its scholarship and abundant detail (including sources of the poetry), it is also much less readable. To my mind, the scholarship gets in the way of the story telling. I found myself longing for my Seidensticker at many turns as I went dutifully through the Tyler. Aside from providing a more continuous flow to the story, I also found that Seidensticker's translation of the many poems in the tale more comprehensible and lyrical.

If you are new to this literary masterpiece, you will find the Waley translation the most accessible. If you get hooked on the work, you will probably want the other two. If you must have only one version, however, go with Seidensticker.

If you are reading this it is probably because you have enjoyed Liza Dalby's "Tale of Murasaki" and are wondering if you can handle something of this size. Or perhaps you are already familiar with the scintillating Waley or Seidensticker translations (also worth acquiring and reading) and curious as to why Tyler has even bothered to produce another one. In fact, even in Japan there have been several recent attempts to render the obscure language of the Heian Court into modern Japanese. Junichiro Tanizaki, for example, managed the feat twice. With such a precedent Tyler therefore, perhaps, needs no justification. Anyway, what you need to know is that the new translation surpasses Seidensticker's in being faithful to the poetic economy of Murasaki's prose (though "economy" here still leaves room for some marvellously glutinous, clause-laden sentences) and even succeeds in maintaining the shifting identities of the characters (which change when they receive promotion within the court) without leaving the reader lost. There are also some wonderful and irreverent moments, such as when Tyler has the libidinous Genji complain "I'm not out for hanky panky; all I want to do is sit for a while on her creaky veranda." But the main thing is that this translation is utterly absorbing, wonderfully readable, and as difficult to put down as many a bestselling novel I have come across. It will guarantee around two months of enjoyment to those who like a good psychological story and therefore represents excellent value, even in hardback. For me personally it is simply the best novel I have read and I recommend this translation without any reservations.

In the late 1960s, I had the good fortune to be at the University of Michigan while Edward Seidensticker was both teaching there and working on his translation of the "Tale of Genji." Like the other graduate students in Japanese Studies, I spent countless hours listening to Seidentsticker sing the praises of this literary classic and discuss the complexities of trying to translate it. I came away from that experience with a lifelong interest in Heian-period (794-1185) literature and a conviction that no Westerner would ever be ambitious and talented enough to better Seidensticker's work. That conviction, however, has now been upset by Royall Tyler, the Australian professor whose own translation debuted last year.

There are many reasons to acquire and read this newest translation of the "Genji," even if, and possibly particularly if, you already have the Seidensticker version. One is that the classical Japanese language of poetry and prose was so highly allusive. It had numerous layers of meaning, a phenomenon that has allowed and indeed led translators to render it with different emphases in mood and meaning. These layered meanings pose a particular challenge for the translator who seeks to find economical ways of rendering the Japanese into English while preserving the spirit of what the Heian-period reader would have taken from the original. This challenge Tyler has dealt with exceptional success.

Another significant reason for acquiring and carefully poring over Tyler's new rendering of "The Genji" is the array of aids that he provides for reading a novel of such length and complexity. Each chapter opens with a brief description of how it relates to earlier portions of the text as well as a list of the characters involved. The text is enhanced but not overburdened by footnotes which provide information on additional layers of meaning in certain phrases, references to earlier Japanese and Chinese literary works, and clarifications regarding the plot. The appendices also merit special praise: they provide a chronology for the events described, a glossary of general terms, schematic drawings of Heian-period buildings, a glossary of terms related to fabric colors and clothing styles, and definitions of court offices and titles. Finally, numerous black-and-white line drawings--in many cases not accessible elsewhere in English-language sources--are placed within the text, helping to explain the material culture of Heian court society. All told, Tyler's newest adventure in translating is a tour de force. It is a joy to read and is a resource that will enrich the studies of those thousands upon thousands of Westerners eager to learn about classical Japanese culture.

The strength of this translation is the introductory information that provides necessary background of both the text and the world that Genji inhabits. Much more than either the Waley and the Seidensticker versions and the footnotes are copious as well. Which makes this translation good for students and classroom study. I would still recommend Ivan Morris' book, _The World of the Shining Prince_ as supplemental inforamtion about Heian Japan but Tyler has provided a very good start with his work including very useful genealogical charts.

The illustrations are generous and found throughout both volumes. Seidensticker had larger illustrations but slightyly less of them whereas Tyler has opted for smaller. One of the flaws of this particular version is the fact that the illustrations are not done as well as the Seidensticker 2 volume set or even the one volume Knopf version. This flaw I place more due to the publisher who has not printed the text as cleanly e.g., ink blots and slight blurring of illustrations and incomplete pressing, as I would have expected.

The more useful study volume is definitely Tyler's with his chronology, geneaology charts, informative introduction, footnotes, clothing and color background, offices and titles, and summary of poetic allusions. It is also beautiful in its red plum cloth cover with end pages of lavender (how self referential) and ink line drawings.

It is a very good addition to the collection but do give a swing through both the Waley and the Seidensticker translations as well.

I was hesitant to start reading "The Tale of Genji" because it seemed so long and ponderous and serious. It seemed like the kind of novel you read because you should, not because it's fun. That wasn't the case at all! The book is a little obscure, a little hard to read, but it keeps me up reading it at night. The world it evokes is distant, exotic, and poetic. I haven't read the other translations, but I will say that for me it wasn't hard to keep track of who was who, despite the lack of personal names, and I'm glad that this translation stuck close to the original in that respect.

The Tale of Genji, or Genji monogatari, was written in the tenth century by Shikibu Murasaki. In it, there is a deep look at the culture and way of life of the highest classes in Heian-era Japan.

The tale itself is about the 'shining prince'; Genji. Son of the emperor and one of his lowest consorts, Genji is fated to be one of the most important men of the age, but never able to truly ascend to royalty. This story, all thousand plus pages of it, details his life full of music, poetry, and efforts to win the hand of various ladies.

While starting out very episodic, Genji soon turns into a more refined tale, when all the threads of story come together to create surprising relations and events that will delight the imagination in their color and depth. By the end of the book, you will have lived through so much of the characters lives that each person comes into their own, and you cannot help but hope that all will end well.

I will say, however, that this book is somewhat difficult to get into for the uninitiated. There's much in the way of allusion to religion of the day (be it Shinto or Buddhism), and of customs that are barely mentioned due to being so commonplace at the time. As such, I would suggest something to introduce people to the Heian culture.

My first and best suggestion would be The Tale of Murasaki, written by Liza Dalby. It's a diary of the author of Genji, Shikibu Murasaki, pieced together from poems and the real diary, and filled in with further guesses as to her life. Compared to Genji, it is very approachable, and makes reading this story even easier.

I cannot recommend Genji enough, being quite possibly the first novel in the world, and certainly one of the best. For anyone with an interest in Japanese history, well-written romance, or just the best of the written word, Genji is sure to delight.

The Tale of Genji, and this (Seidensticker) translation, is without doubt one of the finest reading experiences one can possibly have. What I want to review is what the publisher has done with this book.

I purchased this copy in June 2001, and on the frontispiece it says 4th printing. There are so many printing errors in this book it mars what might otherwise have been a sublime reading experience. I will give you just one example: on page 113 a line reads:

"Then came Koremitsu's house, he would be called a lecher and a child theif [sic]."

Now this made no sense to me, either as a sentence or in the narrative context, so I consulted the abridged edition (which I also have). The line should have read:

"Then came Koremitsu's unsettling report. He must act. If he were to take her from her father's house, he would be called a lecher and a child thief."

That's a total of 14 words missing between "Koremitsu's" and "house".

This is the most serious error in the book, but there are many others, and I've only read 1/4th of the book so far. This Everyman Library edition, the publisher boasts, uses acid-free cream-wove paper with a sewn full cloth binding. It's a beautifully designed book. If only the publishers had given as much attention to the soul of this book as to its body, it might have been worth the price I paid for it.

Books should come with a warranty, really.

This edition is actually the first volume of the series that makes up the complete Tale of Genji. After much anticipation, fuelled by books such as The Tale of Murasaki, I was ready to take on this giant of world literature. It was quite disappointing, but perhaps much of that was due to my strong personal dislike of the title character, Genji. Presented as a `shining prince', and the epitome of manhood, I found him to be a vain and childish character who was annoying in the extreme. So when the story is based on his adventures and accomplishments, it is bound to disappoint.

However, something strange happened with this book - by the end, I had decided to seek out the further volumes so as to complete the story. So Genji, annoying or otherwise, grows on the reader, and you feel compelled to find out what happened next. And this is the sign of a good book. And if you have any interest in Japanese literature, or Heian culture, this book is a must-read, as so much relates to it.

This is one of the `classic' translations, and is quite easy to understand. I would recommend having `A Reader's Guide to The Tale of Genji' by William Puette on hand while reading if you want to fully appreciate all that is going on.

I first found The Tale of Genji in a military library on Camp Humphreys in Korea. The volume was huge, and the plastic jacket was torn, yellowed, and taped. I had no idea what the book was about, only that it was 1000 and more pages. The translator was Arthur Waley. For three months I immersed myself in the tome until I almost refused to part with it. Later, I also read an abridged version translated by Seidensticker.

This particular volume includes only the first novel of the series; there are actually six in the entire work. It is a dense 190-page introduction to the Heian period of Japanese culture, Buddhism, and Genji. But, this piece of the novel is the best introduction to the work as a whole, and I am grateful for it, although I also want to re-read the succeeding five novels again. If you do not have the time to read 1000 pages (although I heartily recommend it), this is the next best course of action.

The theme of the book is karma, and , specifically, that bad intentions and actions will affect the lives of others in our own life and in the lives to come. Although the succeeding five novels show much more poignantly how an ancestor's actions hurt his children, in the first novel, Genji's actions affects those around him in a very direct way.

The psychological descriptions of the main characters rival any modern work by Dostoevsky. The charm of the title characters distracts the reader from the suffering occuring around him, but Murasaki paints a hauntingly beautiful picture of 11th Century Japan. Waley's translation is fluid, but sometimes quaint and misguided. This volume may be the best value I have ever found, including discount books at second-hand stores and garage sales.

The Tale of Genji is a truly impressive book. It is, as the description states, "widely acknowledged as the world's first novel." Because of this, there was little precedent for the book. Most great authors learn their craft and are inspired by other great works. But Murasaki Shikibu had little to go on, other than much smaller and shorter pieces of literature. That is what makes this book so impressive. If it had been written in the 19th century, I may not think so highly of it. But, as it is, I'd rank The Tale of Genji among the greatest novels of all time.
The one thing that really struck me about The Tale of Genji is that it shows how little human nature changes despite vast and dramatic changes and differences in various cultures and time periods. It's amazing to read a book that was written 1,000 years ago in Japan, and to know that you can relate to Genji and the other characters in this book. Our basic fears, longings, and desires have remained, and hopefully always will remain, essentially unchanged.
If you do plan on purchasing this book I recommend Waley's unabridged translation.