"Donald Richie has given a new turn to the incident that made the warrior Kumagai Naozane immortal. His superior narrative powers will carry the reader easily along to find out what it is and to learn of its subtle implications."
- Edward G. Seidensticker
"A tour de force combining a commanding mastery of historical fact and detail, a comprehensive understanding of the human spirit, and a poetic quality of expression that transforms the hearts of all those it touches."
- The Japan Foundation Newsletter
"There is Richie's graceful writing . . . scenes that reveal so much in so few words . . . subtle character sketches of familiar historical figures."
- The Asahi Evening News
"Blood-soaked as these pages may be, Richie also infuses them with a good dose of black humor ... a rich and multi-layered view ... an admirable job of evoking the fading brilliance and aristocratic excesses of old Kyoto."
- The Japan Times
"Richie recreates the feel and flavor of the Heian period, as well as the sense and sensibilities of the people ... of value to students of both the classical and modern martial arts."
- Koryu Book Reviews
"Fabulous tale of medieval Japan, moving and insightful . . . well written, fascinating to read, impeccably researched."
- George Sawyer
Memoirs of the Warrior
KUMAGAI
A Historical Novel
by
Donald Richie
TUTTLE PUBLISHING
Tokyo • Rutland, Vermont • Singapore
Published by Tuttle Publishing, an imprint of Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd, with editorial offices at 364 Innovation Drive, North Clarendon, Vermont 05759
Copyright © 1998 by Donald Richie
All rights reserved.
First Edition, 1999
LCC Card No. 98088195
ISBN 978-0-8048-3722-4
ISBN 0-8048-3722-8
ISBN 4-8053-0847-8 (for sale in Japan only)
Printed in Singapore
Distributed by:
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TUTTLE PUBLISHING® is a registered trademark of Tuttle Publishing.
for
Richard Hayes
To become a man,
a true and worthwhile man,
that was all I wanted
— from the kowaka-mai
Atsumori
Excerpt from the deposition of the Priest Rensei
On the thirteenth day of the first month in the first year of the Genkyūera [1204] I, the lay priest Rensei, declare the following:
It was in the fourth year of the Kenkyūera [1193], now eleven years past, that I began to pray for my rebirth in the highest paradise of the Pure Land.
I well know that to be reborn among the lower would bring an after-life of bliss. But I also know that he who is reborn into the highest paradise may then lead the dying into the Pure Land.
It is for the sake of these others that I, Rensei, wish to be reborn into the highest paradise. Otherwise, I would refuse to be reborn into any of the other eight.
MS.
Seiryōji, Kyoto
Untitled MS.
On the fifteenth day of the fifth month in the first year of the Genkyū era [1204], I, the monk Rensei, formerly the Minamoto officer Kumagai no Jirō Naozane, take up my brush.
I am sixty-five years of age and, having written my deposition and thus prepared for my death, I now wish to turn to my life. It has been full and I now wish to transcribe what I have experienced.
In this I am different from other men only in that I have the leisure and disposition to do so. A priest with few tasks, I am free to sit here and contemplate the past in my chamber at Seiryōji.
It is old, this temple—built long before I was born. Just outside my porch lies a small garden of which I have grown fond. It does not consist of much—a few rocks, a tree, some moss—but it is pleasing. The winter sun reaches it in the afternoon.
Here I sit and remember and write. I have a library here and an archive, including some of the military lists of my time. Nonetheless, my account will be as badly written as my deposition probably is, and in my usual execrable hand. Like so many of my station and generation I never properly learned calligraphy.
I cast an eye upon this deposition, a copy lying here before me. An official statement, it seems certain, dignified— particularly the part about leading in the dying.
That part about my refusing any paradise except for the highest is, however, quite true. Having aspired to a position in this life, I see no reason for relinquishing it in the next.
TO BEGIN AT THE BEGINNING, NOW SIXTY-FIVE YEARS AGO, I WAS born in the sixth year of the Hōen era [1140] on the plains of Musashi, a flat land of marshes and meadows two weeks' march east of the capital. Back then many of the forests were still standing and none of the fens had been drained. There were consequently many animals— rabbits, badgers, bears. It was one of these last that my father killed, an act through which I came to carry the name that I do.
It happened in the following manner. One of these bears was ravaging Ōsata on the Musashi plain. After my father had killed the animal he was given an amount of land. Since the place was fittingly called Kumagaya— Bear Valley—he took its name for his own.
A name was needed. Though we were a Taira family and though my grandfather had held high office, exile to Musashi left us unknown. This was interpreted as punishment, since my grandfather had received an imperial