If you like reading about brave and honorable warriors in a strange faraway land, you might like this -- just as much as you like some fantasies, even though these stories are based on historical facts.This is the Japanese version of Homer. We don't really know the very original author, but we know the stories had been told by traveling storytellers, often to the tune of biwa (lute). (Like this) As such, the original text is polished over the years and has beautiful tension. Just as Homer's Iliad, it starts with a salute -- this one to the Buddhism idea of impermanence.Re: the English translationHere are the opening lines and the corresponding English translations:祇園精舎の鐘の聲、諸行無常の響き有り。 沙羅雙樹の花の色、盛者必衰の理を顯す。 驕れる者も久しからず、唯春の夜の夢の如し。 猛き者も遂には滅びぬ、偏に風の前の塵に同じ。Gionshōja no kane no koe, Shogyōmujō no hibiki ari. Sarasōju no hana no iro, Jōshahissui no kotowari o arawasu. Ogoreru mono mo hisashikarazu, tada haru no yo no yume no gotoshi. Takeki mono mo tsuini wa horobinu, hitoeni kaze no mae no chiri ni onaji.The sound of the Gion Shōja bells echoes the impermanence of all things; the color of the sāla flowers reveals the truth that the prosperous must decline. The proud do not endure, they are like a dream on a spring night; the mighty fall at last, they are as dust before the wind. (Helen Craig McCullough's translation, from wiki)The sound of the Gion Shoja temple bells echoes the impermanence of all things; the color of the sala flowers reveals the truth that to flourish is to fall. The proud do not endure, like a passing dream on a night in spring; the mighty fall at last, to be no more than dust before the wind. (Helen McCullough's translation, as found on GR -- I cannot find the reason why there are two versions)The Jetavana Temple bells ring the passing of all things. Twinned sal trees, white in full flower, declare the great man's certain fall. The arrogant do not long endure: They are like a dream one night in spring. The bold and brave perish in the end:They are as dust before the wind. (Royall Tyler translation, I have the book in front of me.)Note the last (second last in Tyler translation) line. McCullough translates "tsuini" as "at last," which is correct in modern Japanese. However, the word meant "eventually; in the end" in classic Japanese, so Tyler has it right, and you can see how it makes sense. Tyler translated The Tale of Genji, so he probably knows a lot about classic Japanese. (In my not so humble opinion, there are still rooms for improvement -- but I will save that for later occasion.) ContentAlthough the book is about the rise and fall of the Taira clan (Heike), which ultimately loses to the Minamoto clan, and spends a lot of time depicting how each leaders of both sides lived and fought, it is not only about the top dogs. For example, one of the most beloved story is about a common warrior named Kumagai. He was from eastern Japan, so he fought for the Minamoto clan. In one of the battles, he finds himself chasing the retreating Taira warriors. He spots a horseman in expensive armor, and figures that must be one of the notable captains of Taira side. He shames the man on the horse for showing his back to his enemy. They have a duel. Kumagai wins, and, holding down his opponent, he removes his helmet to behead him. Kumagai finds that his opponent is very young, not much older than his own son. It is one of those eerie moments when you find yourself alone with the enemy, while the battle is still going on just a distant away. Kumagai hesitates momentarily, but the young man urges him to go ahead; they fought a fair duel, and he lost. If he had won, he would have no problem killing his opponent. So what is this hesitation Kumagai is showing? Kumagai's opponent is indeed a Taira prince (Atsumori). He is not happy with the large reward he receives, however. He now understands the nature of war, and life, and he becomes a monk. People over the ages felt for the two, and the story is adapted to Noh play, etc. Here is the wiki entry, which includes English translation of some verses -- you can see its influence on Basho, etc.
"О скорбный вид! Алые знамена, алые стяги, брошенные, изорванные, плавали в море, как багряные кленовые листья, что устилают воды реки Тацута, сорванные порывами бури. Алым цветом окрасились белопенные волны, набегающие на берег. Опустевшие судна, потерявшие кормчих, гонимые ветром, увлекаемые течением, качались на волнах и уносились в неведомые морские дали..."Разгром семейства Тайра семейством Минамото - длинная и монотонная цепь смертей, предательств и подвигов, обладающих странным юмором. Интересно, что многие действия самураев совершенно не покажутся праведными современному человеку. Скажем, вассалы с легкостью меняли сторону, забывая о господине, когда пахло жареным, как это делают обыкновенные люди. Причем такая быстрая смена флага не всегда их спасало, т.к. воюющие стремились уничтожить мужчин вражеского рода и родов их вассалов с корнем - либо убивая, либо заставляя постричься в монахи. Другой пример неожиданного поступка: cамурай мог убить того, кто его пощадил, исподтишка, т.к. убить превосходящего силой противника почетно, причем можно воспользоваться помощью слуг, завалив силача группой. Но меня больше всего впечатлило упоминание женщины- воина Томоэ, владеющей и мечом, и луком, и рвущейся в бой за своего господина. Женщина-воин упоминается всего один раз, но это делается без каких-либо особых оговорок. Это отлично и создает пространство для фантазий.Каждое поражение или печальное событие сопровождается изящным танка. Самураи идеально умеют убивать и писать стихи, а женщины проклинают потерю красоты, едва достигнув двадцати с небольшим. Сотни вассалов убивают друг друга, похваляясь отвагой, чтобы сменить одного господина другим, одну семью следующей, и так далее. Бесконечный круговорот войн, в котором личная доблесть, по большому счету, - лишь крохотный короткий всполох.
Do You like book The Tale Of The Heike (1990)?
I really enjoy reading the translation and annotation; it offers everything one needs to understand the relationsships between the characters, historical situation and such. The text is highly readable, which is not an easy feat for a foreign text so old. With a bit of previous knowledge about the times, you will be able to enjoy it as much as possible for a modern, non-Japanese reader. However, I have to confess that even though the plot itself is interesting and moving, the genre-typical conglomaration of titles, names, and places makes it a bit tiring to read the 780+ pages.
—Nora
Moving, expansive, stretching across years and touching upon innumerable lives, and yet also exquisitely intimate and personal, the Tale of the Heike is a sumptuous tale. Tragic, enthralling, lyrical and often brutal, it offers us an unflinching description of life among the upper echelon of society towards the end of the twelfth century in Japan. We follow the rise and inevitable fall of the Taira (Heike) clan, whose family members grasp arrogantly after imperial power in the face of widespread disapproval, only to plummet from the heights when their luck turns. As their enemies gather and exact revenge, the hopelessness and tragedy of their fate is bewailed, and the ephemeral nature of success - "this dewdrop life" - is marveled at by all who have beheld their incredible ride on the wheel of fortune. I loved that this book is composed of so many stories within stories. It is as much the tale of many individuals and their personal histories - their grievances, romances, errors, foolishness and heroism - as it is an historical epic, in which the destiny of a nation is decided. Easily comparable in scope to Homer's Odyssey and Iliad, it achieves a genuine pathos and deep level of intimacy and spiritual introspection that felt to me more authentic than those Greek epics, although one could argue that this is purely subjective on my part. Who is to say that Lord Kiyomori's grief in foreseeing the downfall of his house is greater than that of King Priam of Troy? Is the desolation of former Empress Kenreimon-in at the loss of her child any less profound than that of Andromache? The one recalls the other inevitably, and neither is diminished; arguably both epics are enhanced by each other. What matters most is that the human condition - uncertain, ephemeral, by turns abysmal and glorious - is illuminated. We read, ponder and wonder at the adventures and experiences recorded so long ago, and recognize that the flame of human existence wavers but burns on, against all odds and despite ourselves, both then and now. What epics will our descendants read about us some day.......
—Doria
This book took much longer to read than I thought it would. It's about half as long as The Tale of Genji, but it took me twice as long as the previous classic. I suppose I got tired trying to untangle myself from the web of names and sub-plots this tale weaves. Much more happens in this story than in Genji, so it is very easy to get lost, and I got snagged on many arid passages. But there is still much that is great about Heike, a tale about the end of an era (an era so wonderfully re-animated in Genji). The basic story concerns the rise and fall of the Heike (or Taira) family under the lordship of Kiyomori, the most powerful family in 12th century Japan. By the end of the 12th century, they will have lost all power to the Genji (or Minamoto) family, who founds the Kamakura shogunate, effectively ending rule by the emperor for almost 700 years. It definitely helps that I read Genji first, as it informs the world of Heike and makes the stories of carnage and destruction that much more heartbreaking. If there is one thing I could take away from this book it is the Buddhist moral that the things of this world are fleeting, and that great men good and bad will eventually meet their end. It's right there at the beginning of the tale:"The Jetavana Temple bellsring the passing of all things.Twinned sal trees, white in full flower,declare the great man's certain fall.The arrogant do not long endure:They are like a dream one night in spring.The bold and brave perish in the end:They are as dust before the wind."
—Dan
