Customer Reviews

The Tale of Genji

5 star:		(17)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

The Tale of Genji boasts rights as the first novel ever written, but the road getting here has been rough. The novel is nearly a millenium old, and a translation usually has to go through two hands (the Japanese translator and the English) before we have the pleasure of reading.

The first translation, by Arthur Waley, reads beautifully and still holds a place in many fans' hearts. It has also been liberally edited and sometimes loosely translated; one wonders how much of the original work remains.

Two recent translations compete for top honors. The more recent one, by Royall Tyler, boasts helpful footnotes and background notes. It also takes great pains to render the novel in stylistic terms that are very close to the original. At the same time, it can be hard to follow at times, since many of Shikibu's authorial conventions have been preserved.

Edward Siedensticker offers good accuracy, with prose that's elegant and precise. He really excels with the book's frequent poetry; his translations are the best in English. While his complete translation is true, he doesn't take Tyler's cares to translate Shikibu's stylistic quirks. His translation is, then, more immediately readable. But more footnotes wouldn't have been a hindrance.

I admire Royal Tyler's achievement, but I enjoy Siedensticker's. Perhaps the best course of action is to read both (if you have the time). Otherwise, it may be a good idea to compare passages and see which you prefer. In either case, Siedensticker's poems are indispensible.

Initially I began reading the Tale of Genji after studying illustrations for it in an asian art class and hearing references to it in a Japanese history class. Two things struck me as I read it - 1) the timelessness of the novel, and 2) how the author's ability to develop characters grew even as she wrote it. It was incredibly thought provoking to read passages where the lovers wished that the moment could be preserved for a thousand years, and to realize that, in a way, it had. The novel takes you through the gamut of human experience, and you discover that a thousand years ago, human nature wasn't much different than it is today. For example, I was in stitches over one episode - when the protagonist couldn't have the lady he wanted, he managed to take her pet cat. It was so ridiculous, and yet could have been something right out of "Friends".

For me, the first third of the book was a struggle, even though I was quite interested in the historical descriptions. After that, I couldn't put it down. The characterization of the people gained depth and insight as the book went on. It was a delight to read, and I was sorry when it ended.

I chose the Seidensticker one-volume paperback over the Waley edition because it was unabridged, proported to be more true to the original story, and had woodblock illustrations from a 1650 edition. As for another reviewer commenting about the durability of the cover, I covered mine in clear contact paper right after I bought it, and it's as beautiful as new almost 5 years later. My only complaint is that the poetry seems to lose something in the translation. It seems that this may be due to differences between the Japanese and English languages, though, and perhaps may not be as much a translation issue.

I highly recommend The Tale of Genji to anyone who likes a good book and has any interest in history or Japanese culture. Their perseverence will be rewarded.

-JB Zurn, novice nipponophile

This excellent book, for me, opened up the rich and fascinating world of Heian Japan. The structure Murasaki Shikibu used in terms of plots and characters is great, leading the reader through many twists and turns in the life and loves of men and women of the court. Seidensticker does a wonderful job of translation, covering many things Waley neglected, and inserting helpful and informative footnotes. Altogether a simply fantastic book.

So far I much prefer the 1973 (?) translation by Seidenstucker (whatever!). I read the first 7 or so chapters alternately until I decided the aforementioned was easier to read. The new translation might be "truer" to the original and I love the footnotes but it's difficult to figure out who exactly is talking (S. incorporates the information in the footnotes in more recent translation into the body of the text) and S. is a far more graceful writer. If you should be seized by the inclination the read this book, I strongly recommend reading "The World of the Shining Prince" (Morris) first. The genealogical charts alone are invaluable to understanding "Genji".

The Tale of Genji, by Murasaki Shikibu is like a Heian period Soap Opera. This book follows Genji through his life and his many relationships. Although Genji is the main character, the book also explores many different subplots having to do with the people of the Heian court with whom Genji associates. The main focus of the story is Genji and his many love affairs. Genji is a beautiful and cultured man and many women are drawn to him. He takes many wives, but he also has affairs with many other women both inside and outside the Heian court. Having affairs outside the court is scandalous and he does this in secret. Every affair is different from the others. Each woman has something unique to offer Genji.
The book is composed of many different overlapping stories that complicate one another as the story progresses. Although Genji is the main focus, many other characters lives become part of the story. Relationships of all forms are explored through the characters. Secrets between family members are revealed. Men and women who are involved in extra marital affairs have secret children together. Men compete with each other for a certain woman's affections. People even become possessed by spirits and die. For the most part if you have seen it in a Soap Opera it has happened in this story.
This book was obviously written for a mature audience. The relationships are described in detail and the language, or prose, is intended for an adult reader. I think the author's intention was to draw you in to the characters' lives. Once the reader knows who the main characters are, she becomes engrossed in the interplay between the different characters. I feel the author accomplished what she set out to do. Although it takes a while to become familiar with the characters, once you do you become very interested in the different relationships between the characters. There is always something scandalous or unexpected being revealed. This helps to keep the reader's interest as the story continues to progress.
I would recommend this book to anyone interested in Heian Period Japanese culture. This book gives a glimpse into the lives of the people of this era. Although it is written in prose, it is not too difficult to read and understand. The Soap Opera-Like plot helps to keep your interest. There is always a surprise lurking around each corner.

Unfortunately I read the Italian transalation, which has not been prepared referring to the original Japanese text, but to the English translations. Indeed in Italy we have only a translator's translation at our disposal! However, the novel is extremely fascinating, you really take part to the plot, and you are sorry when you finish reading. The story could have gone on and on. I do not share the view that Genji was a playboy. This opinion is prejudiced by our views as to personal relationship, which are of course very different. We cannot judge past ethics and morals with our ideas.

I'm impressed how carefully some reviewers here have read not only this translation but others. I have taken a more impressionistic approach to traveling through this very long, if fragrant, jungle - almost as I did literally when in Cameroon many years ago and, in the vibrant, chirping rain forest, could only hear most of the animals who, hidden, surrounded me. Anyone who simply wants to read for pleasure and be led in a fairly conventional way through a story should be warned that the usual problems of both translation and period (this was written centuries before Chaucer, never mind Shakespeare or Jane Austen) are only part of what makes a linear, focused reading of this very long book difficult. There are numerous characters, sometimes known under shifting names; there are what appear to be additions or lacunae in the story; there are events which are inherently confusing, or even weird (his whole kidnapping/adoption and subsequent courtship of a little girl would be far more disturbing if the author herself didn't seem to regard it as, almost, normal). The use of short verse to communicate (apparently a very real convention of the time) is not only confusing to modern readers, the specific meaning of each verse snippet (lovely as many of them are) will often be entirely lost or only understood after rereading both of the poem and the footnote that typically accompanies it (and more often than not refers to some now-lost work by yet an earlier writer). The various obligations of court ritual virtually form a language in themselves - a language which is already hard to understand in its more modern form in Old Regime France, and might as well be out of "Lord of the Rings" for many modern readers. -- All this said, what keeps one reading? Partially, as with every great literary work, the very real characters and attitudes that peek through portraiture that sometimes seems like mythologization (Genji in some ways is more like a Greek hero, part demi-god, than any actual human being, even one at a long-dead royal court). The verse, the mists, the pines, the paper-walled houses form a world that is not always comprehensible to a modern Western reader, but which has a real coherence and beauty. Genji's erotic misbehavior (delicately as it is described) is entertaining, even if other more somber events intrude. He does, despite a certain self-absorption, move towards wisdom. Lady Murasaki (if the translator is to be trusted) makes some very Austen-like observations on her hero's (mis)behavior. And finally, the very otherworldliness of the narrative, the sense that we are peeking in through not always clear glass at a real, specific world whose rules and rhythms are as real as they are beyond our understanding draws the reader in, engages their interest by its very refusal to quite yield all its truth, inviting the half-enlightened reader to press even more eagerly against the revealing yet often blurring glass.

Genji monogatari is many things to many people. To me, it was a great read, plain and simple. I had done some research on it years ago, but when given the chance to truly study and pick it apart for my History of Japan course in college, I jumped at the chance.

It met my expectations, simply because it fulfilled a few things that I had built up in my head about it. It truly must have been the world's first novel. The characterization of each character mentioned including the evolution of Murasaki (to dismiss her as Genji's child bride would be a grave mistake), the choppy but easy to follow plot, the well-documented lifestyle of a Heian courtier was a treat to read.

Much has been made of Genji's love affairs, but there is more to him than that. I think my favourite part in the whole story was Genji's reaction to seeing Kaoru, his adopted son by the Third Princess. He questions his own mortality, and at his age (about forty, if I was understanding it correctly), who wouldn't? It's simple things like one questioning mortality, or reading about a little girl being admonished for playing with dolls, that make you think. Not necessarily bad things, but just think.

Of course, with all translations certain things are lost, usually comprehension. In my case, upon reading the Seidensticker translation, I had to continually re-read what I had read two sentences ago to make some sense in my head. I also attribute this to Murasaki (the author was named for the character, not the other way around), who wrote it in pieces to amuse her fellow ladies-in-waiting.

All I know is that I shouldn't have waited this long to fall into the storied life of Hikaru Genji. I have been missing out on something for a long time.

So much has been said about Genji Monogatari: some say it is the world's first novel; others, the greatest novel ever written; others again an incomparable source of information on Heian Japan. For some it is a satire, for others a great love story. All these are probably true, but it depends on your point of view, culture and even your sex as to how true.

My reading showed me that it is one of the greatest of autobiographies. For me, Murasaki, whose own name we do not even know, is the true hero of the story. Genji himself is a cypher: yet for sure Murasaki loved him, or someone like him. In her book Murasaki stands revealed; it is one of the great acts of intimacy in world literature. She is tangible, present in every adjective, real, alive. She was a strong living personality, a passionate nature, possessing great sensitivity to nature (so much more than the conventional Heian pose) and one who loved deeply and was not able to express her love. Of Murasaki, the scholars tell us, we know nothing. But her book tells us as much as one person can tell another, and with such power that we can never forget her.

This is a book from a distant era. Its survival, composition, culture and conventions, even its authorship, have inspired scholarly debate. There is even a 'Murasaki question' to parallel the 'Homeric question', concerning who wrote the book. Homer is in fact a useful analogue, but we don't need to know any of this. Murasaki tells us all we need to know. Over 1,000 pages, 400 characters and many, many tankas, yet we never lose the way. I like to think that Murasaki never finished her book, and that somewhere she is still writing some later chapters, that someone who loved so deeply in 11th century Japan could be granted some special dispensation by those in charge.

This translation by Edward G. Seidensticker sidesteps the errors of earler translations to paint a vivid portrait of the real & imagined environment of the world's oldest novelist. Murasaki Shikibu wrote about what she knew best: the rarified world of the Imperial Court of Heian Japan. Her characters may have been recognized by her contemporaries, but the paragon Genji would be a difficult character to identify. The many women in his life - he seemed to love all women - were familiar to her court cognoscenti.

This fascinating tale follows the life of a mythical(?) "shining prince" of perfect manners and sublime taste, the paragon of Heian ideals. The story may have some chapters missing; there is an abrupt break from the story of Genji's life to the story of his son, a similar paragon but less successful with the women in his life.

Not a tome for the faint-of-heart, the book is quite hefty, despite being in paperback. It is worth the read - and the wade - not only for the story but for Murasaki's thinly veiled barbs at contemporary women in the court! My copy is dogeared and marked from frequent re-reads, notations, and references.