The Pillow Book

Since I spent so much time gushing over First Summer Uika and her portrayal of Sei Shonagon in the Japanese drama Hikaru Kimi É (“Addressed To You, My Radiant One”), this seemed like a good time to talk about the Pillow Book, or Makura no Sōshi (枕草子).

Despite the name “Pillow Book”, the book has no erotic content. Instead, it is a collection of witty musings about life in the Heian Period aristocracy, early 11th century.

The author, Sei Shonagan (poem 62), was one of the pre-eminent writers of her generation, in a field of many excellent talented women.

I had read the book many years ago, and I felt it was a bit dry at times since it has no narrative. But back then, I also had a much more limited understanding of Heian Period culture, and many of the things mentioned in the Pillow Book are also alluded to in the Hyakunin Isshu, as well as the Diary of Lady Murasaki. So, even if the format is different, all three collections draw from the same “cultural well”.

I thought I had lost my copy of the Pillow Book (the Penguin Classics version, translated by Dr Meredith McKinney) a long time ago, but was amazed to discover that it was just buried behind other books. So, I dusted off the book and have been reading through it again.

Sei Shonagon is a keen observer of life in the Heian Period, and makes lists for all kinds of obscure things:

[23] Occasions that induce half-heartedness – The religious services on days of Buddhist fasting. Preparations for something still far in the future. Long periods of seclusion at a temple.

trans. by Dr Meredith McKinney

or:

[217] Things that should be small – Thread for sewing something in a hurry. The hair of women of the lower classes. The voice of someone’s daughter. Lampstands.

trans. by Dr Meredith McKinney

Or she adds things to lists that were probably drawn from personal experience:

[25] Infuriating things – ….Someone suddenly falls ill, and an exorcist is sent for. They don’t find him in the usual place, and a tedious amount of time is spent waiting while they go around in search of him. Finally they manage to locate him, and with great relief you set him to performing the exorcism rites — however, the recent exertions of exorcising some other possesing spirit seem to have worn him out, for no sooner does he sit down and start in on the chanting than his voice grows drowsy. This is utterly infuriating.

trans. by Dr Meredith McKinney

It’s also clear that Sei Shonagon had a pretty haughty attitude, especially when compared to Lady Murasaki’s (poem 57) withdrawn, melancholy tone or Lady Izumi’s (poem 56) whimsical passion. As they say in modern Japanese: seikaku ga deru (性格が出る, “people’s personalities come out”).

One thing I do particularly enjoy about the Pillow Book are the anecdotes. While many of the entries are just lists and her opinions, she often reminisces about funny, sad or strange occurrences she witnessed during her 10-year tenure serving the ill-fated Empress Teishi. Some of these anecdotes and observations are quite long, while others are brief. Some happened long ago, and Sei Shonagon’s memory is a bit fuzzy, others are more recent.

For example in one anecdote, number 79, she talks about how her relationship with one Officer of the Left Gate Watch named Norimitsu had soured after an incident where he covered for her. She had gone somewhere and only Norimitsu knew her whereabouts, but the Captain Consultant demanded to know where she had gone and Norimitsu tried to keep his mouth shut. Later when Norimitsu complained, she sent a piece of dried seaweed in reply, and Norimitsu got annoyed. She criticized his lack of sense, and he was frustrated at her for putting him in such a difficult position. Later she muses that they grew more and more distant after that incident until “later, Norimitsu was promoted to Deputy Governor of Tōtōmi Province, and the relationship ended in hostility.”

Sei Shonagon mentions other people from the Hyakunin Isshu as well, including one anecdote involving Ukon (poem 38) who was asked to identify a stray dog who once lived at the palace. She does not mention Lady Murasaki or other such ladies-in-waiting as they served under the second empress, Shoshi, and came a bit later anyway. By the time Emperor Ichijo married a second time, Teishi’s status had greatly declined and her retinue (including Sei Shonagon) were on their way out the door.

The Pillow Book is a really nice “slice of life” look at the court culture of the time: sometimes amusing, sometimes exquisite, and sometimes depressing. Her wit really shows through the ages and even today kids in Japan (and people outside Japan) still read her book.

P.S. Featured photo is a drawing of Sei Shonagon from a 13th-century illustrated copy of the Pillow Book. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Leave a comment