World's First Novel: The Tale of Genji

I just finished studying Chapters 1–17 of The Tale of Genji, a classic work of Japanese literature completed in the early 11th century and deemed the world's first novel. Consisting of 54 chapters, the book is believed to have been written by the noblewoman, poet, and lady-in-waiting Murasaki Shikibu during the peak of the Heian period. It is also the first novel written by a woman to have won global recognition. In Japan, The Tale of Genji has a stature similar to that of Shakespeare in the UK, but it was created over 500 years earlier than Shakespear's works.

In contrast to the Chinese characters (kanji) used for more prestigious literature, The Tale of Genji was written mostly in Japanese phonetic script (hiragana), which was associated with women's writing of the time. With its archaic language and poetic style, the work requires specialized study. Luckily, as a modern reader without academic training, I could still appreciate it through translation. To this end, the book has been translated into many languages, and the one I read is an English abridged version by Suematsu Kencho, the first-ever translation of the work.

Born in Kyushu in 1855, following the Perry Expedition that ended Japan's 250-year sakoku policy, Suematsu Kencho was a Japanese politician, intellectual and author. In 1871, he moved to Tokyo and learned English from his friend, Takahashi. Later, he made a living by translating foreign newspapers in cooperation with Takahashi. In 1874, he became a newspaper reporter. The following year, he was recruited by the government. In 1878, he was ordered to study in England, as part of a Japanese embassy dispatched there. He enrolled in Cambridge University in 1881. Graduating with a law degree from Cambridge (St. John's College, Cambridge) in 1884, Suematsu Kencho returned to Japan in 1886. During his study at Cambridge, he managed to translate the first 17 chapters of The Tale of Genji. Presenting a compelling contrast between the British Empire and the Heian court, the novel was published to critical acclaim in 1882, in a society where people were thirsty for information about the exotic "Orient".

Only decades later, the first modern Japanese translation by Yosano Akiko would be completed: an abridged translation published in 1912-1913, followed by a complete translation in 1938-1939. These translations are significant because they made the Heian period classic accessible to the reading public for the first time. This also showcased how massive the undertaking was, with the first modern Japanese translation appearing over 1,000 years after the original novel had been completed.

 

Among all English translations, the one by Royall Tyler is the most acclaimed. Published in 2001, the edition is renowned for its academic rigor and detailed footnotes. It was also praised for being highly faithful to the original text and its poetic quality. It is noted for preserving the nuance of 11th-century Japanese court life, making it a "definitive edition" for readers seeking a comprehensive and authentic experience.

The first section of the novel, chapters 1-33, centers on the early life and amorous encounters of its fictional hero Hikaru Genji, or "Shining Genji". Born to the emperor (Emperor Kiritsubo) and a low-ranking concubine called Kiritsubo Consort, Genji is the favorite child of the emperor. However, for political reasons, the emperor removes Genji from the line of succession, demoting him to commoner status by giving him the surname Minamoto. The second section, chapters 34-41, tells of his old age and death, while the final section, chapters 42-54, shifts to Genji's grandson, Niou, and his supposed son, Kaoru.

I was overwhelmed by various themes of the book that are rarely explored in other works of English literature. First of all, I was fascinated by "defining—and finding—the ideal woman." Prince Genji’s romantic adventures are the main narrative focus of the novel’s first seventeen chapters, during which he seeks a woman who will satisfy his desires and embody his ideals (though he doesn’t seem entirely sure what his desires and ideals are). In the remote memory of his mother, Kiri-Tsubo, Genji does identify a kind of ideal. Her style of beauty provides a model for the two subsequent women he finds most attractive—the Princess Wistaria and Violet. 

Another theme that impressed me was "the power of art". Art is crucial to the world Murasaki Shikibu creates, conveying the refinement and ease of the imperial court. Poetry, music, dance and painting are all central to the novel’s action and meaning because members of the court are expected to be accomplished in these forms of expression and communication. Poems are scattered throughout The Tale of Genji, and the verses courtiers write are a key form of communication, as well as a way to capture and share personal longing or sadness.  Music is equally important to the novel. Characters play several different musical instruments (the biwa or koto), with their songs spilling from secluded spaces to attract others' attention. When it comes to painting, art is even used to help determine who will be able to claim the new Emperor in a relationship, as the painting competition in the seventeenth chapter reveals.

Having read the abridged English translation of the work, I also gained insight into Japanese history and culture as never before. First of all, The Tale of Genji is a work about the Heian era (794 - 1185), which was a transformative period in Japanese history. Named after its capital, Heian-kyo, or present-day Kyoto, many historians view this era as Japan’s golden age, characterized by the flourishing of art, culture, and literature. The aristocratic society thrived during this time, with the imperial court at its center. This era was the basis and foundation for much of Japan’s cultural and artistic tradition. 

The Heian era also witnessed the rise of the samurai, members of the professional warrior class in pre-industrial Japan, who served as retainers to the lords. These men came from warrior families and trained from a young age in military arts through private instruction. Swordsmanship, archery, and horsemanship were the primary martial skills; and often in Japanese history, only samurai had the right to even possess these weapons. These weapons required years of training to master, and this commitment made the samurai superior to conscripts and militia, both of whom were typically given only days of training. Known by the proper Japanese term as "bushi," the samurai also studied literature, calligraphy, and Confucian philosophy, befitting their roles as bureaucrats under the shoguns after the Heian era.

In addition, I learned about the term Gempeitōkitsu, which represents the four noble clans of Japan: Minamoto clan – also known as Genji or Genke (21 cadet branches of the Imperial House of Japan); Taira clan – also known as Heishi or Heike (four cadet branches of the Imperial House of Japan); Fujiwara clan – descended from Fujiwara no Kamatari, a Japanese politician and aristocrat who, together with Prince Naka no Ōe (later Emperor Tenji), carried out the Taika Reform; Tachibana clan – descended from Prince Naniwa-Ō, son of Prince Shōtoku (572–621), 2nd son of Emperor Yōmei.

Finally, now I have a clearer picture about the introduction of Buddhism in Japan, which is generally dated in the sixth century. Originating in India, Buddhism arrived in Japan first making its way through China and Korea and then traveling by sea to the Japanese archipelago. As such, early Japanese Buddhism is strongly influenced by Chinese Buddhism and Korean Buddhism, which were influenced by Indian Mahayana Buddhism. In addition, the powerful Soga clan played a key role in the early spread of Buddhism in the country. As part of the Taika Reforms implemented in 645, Buddhist institutions and rituals were often used and performed at the palace or capital, in service of the state.

I have read both Suematsu Kencho's and Royall Tyler's (the first 17 chapters only) translations of The Tale of Genji, alongside other English literature works, in the past two months. This fascinating, surreal reading journey would not have been possible without the abundant, digitized materials and study guides in the public domain. In particular, I had a sense of being enchanted when reading the eight-hour audiobook with text (by Suematsu Kencho).

Wrapping up this blog post, I also bookmarked Tyler's translation of The Tale of Genji (page 612, to be exact). The book will remain on my weekly reading list until I finish the rest of the book (over 2,000 pages) – hopefully by 2026.