Refuge in the Past during the Final Age
57
against the will of the people accumulated, there came to be deep resent-
ment in the world. In the midst of this, the adoptive son of Yang Guifei,
one Minister of the Left An Lushan [703–57], resisted [Guozhong’s] au-
thority; and though the fury in his heart ran deep, there was no one at all
to restrain it. Thus, when he suddenly amassed 150,000 troops to slay Yang
Guozhong, the world fell into chaos, and there were great riots. Fear pen-
etrated
even as far as the palace, so the emperor fled elsewhere.
74
In the Chinese source, Yang Guozhong is likewise depicted as a usurper
“making a mockery of the country.”
75
There is, however, no mention of
the effect of misrule on public morale. Nor is there any attention paid to
An Lushan’s emotional state. While the mechanics of the retreat are re-
counted in greater detail, nowhere is there anything said about the world
falling apart or mass unrest.
76
In short, the elaborations about the fric-
tion between the government elite and the people and about the threat
of social collapse are extrinsic to the Chinese version. In ways similar to
those that can be found in tales 6 and 17 (not discussed here), Shigenori
has added material that foregrounds the danger to social stability posed
by nepotism, misrule, and unchecked ambition—some of the very factors
behind the recent H
ō
gen and Heiji Disturbances.
Tale 10, “The Tale of How Carrying a Split Mirror Enabled Deyan’s
Reunion with His Wife, Ms. Chen,” best conveys how Japanese in the
late twelfth century assessed the possible impact of war.
77
The familiar
anecdote relates how a couple facing war decides to split a mirror in two
so that they will be able to use the halves as proof of identity and reunite
afterward should they lose track of one another. While the plot stays fairly
close to that of the Chinese version, there is one striking difference: an
insertion of how the war directly impacts society. After war’s unexpected
outbreak, “all people, lofty and lowly alike, hid in the mountains and for-
ests, where they wandered about, lost. Even parents and siblings who
were difficult to separate from each other dispersed in all four directions,”
74. Kobayashi,
Kara monogatari zenshaku
, 149–50.
75. For
the Chinese text, see Kobayashi,
Kara monogatari zenshaku
, 181.
76. For the Chinese text upon which
I base these observations, see Kobayashi,
Kara monogatari zenshaku
, 181.
77. Kobayashi,
Kara monogatari zenshaku
, 68–73.
58
New Reflections
with “everyone fleeing and wandering all about.”
78
These lines are new,
with the result that once again Japanese readers are treated to additional
imagery that magnifies but does not explain the disorder. But their in-
clusion makes sense in a Japanese world that has recently weathered two
rebellions and where tensions continue to mount.
These two roughly coeval courtier-authored texts—Nobunori’s ellip-
tical account of the H
ō
gen Disturbance and Shigenori’s tales of love and
disorder in China—offer tantalizing, though admittedly imperfect,
glimpses into the intellectual world of the Japanese elite during the 1150s
and 1160s. Nobunori’s diary reveals warriors acting with increasingly in-
effectual checks on their power, as well as hints of the physical destruc-
tion they could bring to the capital. At the same time, Shigenori’s account
slips in new passages of text that, however slender and few in number,
suggest a recognition of or sensitivity to the causes and costs of war. Thus,
both of these sources are critical to understanding the zeitgeist at court
when, a few years later in 1174 or 1175, Fujiwara no Tametsune is believed
to have written
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