The following creative piece occurs immediately after Kaorus evening at the

Chamberlains place (Shikibu, 758)1. The quote in the beginning and the end of this paper
serve as placeholders of setting and time.
I tackle the kokoro aspect of the assignment by addressing several themes and
narrative structures present within The Tale of Genji. One device is Murasakis repetitive
use of settings, situations, and relationships between the characters (Morris 268)2. For
example, Kaorus playing of the flute and his subsequent dream parallels that of Genji
and Yugiri. Whereas the flute is reminiscent of Kashiwagis visit to Yugiri, the visit of
Kaorus biological father is reminiscent of the old emperors visit to Genjis dream in the
beginning of the Akashi chapter. There are of course, psychological variations between
the characters and the parallel patterns of action, a much acclaimed facet of Murasakis
writing (Morris 269). Thus Kaoru is visited by Kashiwagi despite the fact that he is not
physically carrying the flute. This hints at the supernatural bond between blood relatives
of the physical and spiritual world. Unlike Genji, Kaoru is unable to recognize
Kashiwagis face. This serves to foreshadow Kaorus relationship with his deceased
father in the chapters to come: even though he discovers the true nature of his birth, he
continues to be driven by feelings of doubt and suspicion. Both are lost in a storm of
confusion and dubiousness, each lost and wandering in their respective realms.
The storm draws a parallel to Genjis plight on Suma. Kaoru however, feels
bedridden in the capital, where the storm only enhances the urgency of answering his
questions about life, especially of his past. Both despair the thought of death, but each for
different reasons; Genjis is practical, while Kaoru delves into the complicated matter of
1

Shikibu, Murasaki. The Tale of Genji. Trans. Edward G. Seidensticker. New York: Twenty-Fifth Printing,
2001.
2
Morris, Ivan. The World of the Shining Prince. New York: Kodansha America, 1994.

mind and metaphysics. Whereas Genji receives advice to escape to Akashi, Kaoru
receives a vague and broad admonition. It appears hopelessly unachievable, and becomes
the underlying current behind his indecision and neurosis. The only specific piece of
advice is to search within Uji. This is employed through the use of a device known as
anticipation, where the setting or character is mentioned before it is actually introduced
(Morris 268). Uji becomes the breeding ground of his Hamlet-esque characterization. It
also is the place where he learns of his true birth; the words of Kashiwagi in the dream
foreshadow his inability to locate a decisive voice for himself. The voice of his unknown
father remains, perhaps rooted unconsciously it appears as if the two characters were
cursed to begin with, menaced at the hands of Genji.
The kotoba aspect of my creative piece remains at the readers discretion.

Taylor Chen
Chapter 44 : Bamboo River
Japanese 7A: Horton
GSI Heustch
Fri 10-11pm
December 03, 2003
Kaoru came visiting again, as if to demonstrate his deep intentions, and it was as the
lieutenant had said: he got all the attention...
By request of the present guests, Kaoru played lengthier melodies with quiet
reassurance, much to the increasing dismay of the lieutenant. The plum blossoms fell
sway before the empty breeze, moved by the intimate overtones sounding at its side. The
auditors felt their hearts atremble with a calming grace. One would be quite hard-pressed
to say what was more overwhelming: the fragrance emanating from his tasteful robes, or
the music echoing in the evening light. Tamakazura could scarcely keep back her tears,
especially at the reminiscence thriving within his beautiful notes on the koto. Perhaps the
music brought such effects as to contort the mind into receiving illusions. At last, her
eyes were driven to tears. He asked himself, Could these tears be drops of delight? The
crowd was deeply impressed by such heights of emotion. It was quite remindful of the
days when the Shining Prince created great stirs through his unparalleled beauty and
elegance in every movement or instrument. Those who could persuade the crowd with
uncontrollable tears such people must certainly have been saints from a former life! Yet
it was all the more expected, since he was the late Genjis son.
Kaoru restrained himself beneath further goading from the audience to continue
play. He was much too tired. The moonlight dimmed behind a vast expanse of cloud, not
to come out again until dawn. Gradually an air of somberness overtook the assemblage,

leaving small pockets of song and chatter scattered throughout the house. Tamakazura
made her departure amidst a flurry of tears. At this Kaoru felt remarkably uncomfortable,
for he had been straining a rather jovial tune. Though he was still confident in himself as
an elegant young man, it was unlike him to overbear others to the place of tears. He had
come to prove his demeanor as one not necessarily prudish or proper, but now he realized
just how imprudent he had been. I have certainly overdone it this time, he thought.
Before she left, she entrusted one of her ladies-in-waiting to deliver the following poem
to Kaoru:

The melody that wets my silent sleeves,

Echo the beat of a long lost blossom

The crowd took notice of her sudden move, despite the overcast clouds creeping
in from the North. Kaoru found the message astonishing, and remained distant throughout
the evening. Tucked underneath the warm glows from hanging lanterns, the women
found this mysterious aloofness particularly elegant.
Kaoru was unable to sleep. He recalled playing instruments beautifully on many
occasions, drawing universal admiration from officials and courtiers. Tamakazura herself
frequently exhibited a friendly but quiet demeanor. She did not personally allow for
intrigue and gossip, herself an unmistakably elegant and proper lady. It was unlike her
amiable self to be moved to extremities by the impetuosity of such a young man. Ahead
the sky was dark and lonely. Did he remind her of her late father, To no Chujo, that
much? Feelings of guilt continued to dwell deep inside of him.

On a fold of paper he wrote with exquisite care and detail:

My small and worn bamboo koto

shies at the melody of your tears.

He decided to pay a visit to Tamakazura the following evening.

In the morning an undefined melancholy crept like a shadow blanketing his heart.
As if to bemock his internal tempest, a sudden storm struck the capital at full speed.
Darkness covered the sky, as if the Sun had been swallowed up during the day. His visit
to Tamakazuras would have to wait. Neither could he send a messenger to describe his
delay. The men were too busy managing the palace to prevent excessive damage to the
interior.
Over the evenings the storm showed no signs of relenting. Kaoru felt as if struck
by an ominous, almost calculated disaster. Thunder and rain shook the night with great
fury, a fierce and pitched battle between the lands and the sky. The men of the palace
could do little to calm the terror arising within the women and children. Never before in
their vivid imaginations had they encountered a storm as fierce as this! The men scoffed
at this extravagant marveling of the storm as inauspicious. Though the storm had been
causing great detriment to the capital, it would pass as nothing more than a scuffle
between the Gods.
The road was flooded by a deluge of rainwater, seeping into many gardens of
ruin. Plum trees danced together in panic, ending in the sweeping force of the torrents.
Kaoru saw the world at its darkest mood, despite the many reassurances of the men. It

was meant almost as if to tear the land asunder by the vengeful hand of Sumiyoshi. If
anything, the screams of the raging winds only resonated deeper within him the true
weight of the world. Kaoru said to himself, Something is terribly amiss and such a
staggering feeling it is! Each howl of wind and each flash of lightning deeply recalled
the fragility of his own life. He spied the ruins on certain nights, recalling from the Holy
Scriptures the triviality of material attachments. Throughout the nights he maintained
prayers much like everyone else, but encountered moments of great agitation. He
thought, In which month would pass the storm destined to take his life? How fleeting life
was, engulfed within the howling waves of panic and confusion! There were things he
still needed an explanation to, answers he had been seeking since childbirth. The storm,
though modest it was, served to remind him the evanescence of life and its beauty.
Unwariness would only seal an afterlife of regret and constant wandering, underneath the
immutable stars and clouds.
Such were the pensive ruminations swirling within his troubled mind.
Presently the wind and rain subsided under a cloudless night. People were
attending the palace at the arrival of dawn. The trees sagged under the weight of fresh
water from the rain. Apprehension was driven away from the hearts of people into the
sky, breathing fresh air into the rooms. Though only natural for a young man to be
overcome by dread under such deplorable circumstances, Kaorus distaste for elegant
pursuits continued to grow. He could not find worldly affairs to suffice until the next
coming of the raging winds and water.
On a certain morning following the storm in the Second Month, he visited
Tamakazura. Her house lay replete with noise of chatter and the frequent rumblings of

childrens footsteps. The garden had been greatly deflowered. People were hurrying to
and fro, repairing the damage dealt by the rains of evenings before. Its qualities, very
reminiscent of a sunken garden, preserved a certain air of elegant refinement. Kaoru
sighed a deep breath of relief. The smell of morning haze felt soothing, especially after
nights of pouring rain. People turned their heads, drawn to the extravagant perfume of
the newcomer. One could hardly have imagined a better freshening of already sweet air.
I am sorry for the delay. I wished to see you earlier, but the wind and rain
continued on for many nights without end.
It is I who should be apologizing. I did not wish to leave under such
disagreeable conditions the night at my sons, the Chamberlains place. It is as I had
feared: I have unwittingly traced the melodies of your koto back to my late brother,
Kashiwagi. I was drawn to tears not by my longing for my father, the late chancellor, but
to him.
Quite taken aback, Kaoru took a moment to think. Outside, the gardens
appealing look was dimmed by the myriad people striding to and fro.
I too, have experienced in the past nights longing, but of a different sort. What
kind, I must not say; I have caused far too much grievance to bring you the burden of my
feelings.
She produced a flute from within her belongings.
There are many keepsakes that I hold of your late father, who treated me well
beyond my hopes. This particular flute was passed down by him, belonging to my late
brother, of which was his favorite. Dare I ask if you may be persuaded to play this
instrument, to fill the loneliness since his departure once more?

It was indeed a keepsake of his late father, the Shining Prince. Shortly before he
passed away into the divine protection of Lord Buddha, he had left her this particular
flute as an heirloom belonging to her late brother knowing she had consistently
mourned his loss long after he had vanished from the world. There was no mention of its
origin or history, except that it had once been Kashiwagis favorite.
Kaoru found the situation very bizarre. He had never known or seen the brother
to whom she referred, and was not particularly likened to honor unknown spirits of the
dead. Such actions often brought bad luck, and he was careful not to offend the spirits.
Yet the recent storms brought great dread and agitation as to many existing assumptions
her believed true in the world. Since childhood he had overheard many allusions
comparing him to Kashiwagi, much to his own dismay. His musical ability resembling
Kashiwagi may not be complete coincidence. In a world ruled by divinity and heavenly
designs, he could not afford to spurn the request of his sorrowful friend.
On your kind behest, I will honor your memory of Kashiwagi by playing this
flute. However, I cannot imagine likening my ability to even the most inferior note of
your late brother.
Hearing the chirping melodies blowing beneath the buds of cherry blossoms,
Tamakazura wept uncontrollably. Once again her tears burst forth from eyes onto her
sleeves. Even the people nearby outside stopped to listen, drawn to the mellifluous sound
of his melody, the aromatic smell of his fragrance, and the affecting sight of a lady lost
within a reverie of pensive silence. It was altogether a very moving picture.

It was impulsive of me to approach you with such news and request. However,
you have filled the evening with rectitude and warmth, despite your misgivings. This
will surely revive my ailing spirit for many times to come.
He pushed the flute under the princesss blinds, though she showed little sign of
reaction. They spoke of friendly and amicable things, each addressing the other in utmost
decorum. The day drew to late afternoon, with the air still droning of people instructing
and people carrying out services following the storm. Withdrawing, he thought more of
his profound resemblance to Kashiwagi. The mystery grew increasingly disturbing.
After great hesitation, he decided against pressing her with questions. He had caused her
enough gratuitous grief over past memories.
He jotted down a poem upon his departure:
Tears that flood the morning haze,
drown my thoughts of misgiving.
She sent back:
So scattered was my dreamless heart,
Yet mended by the graceful sound of memory.
In the Reizei Palace people continued to attend to its dwellings. It was very much
alike to the hustle at Tamakazuras, except the noise here was almost deafening. They
were preparing for upcoming festivities, none of which he took any interest in. The air
settled comfortably upon robes, still smelling of redolent perfume. Though it was much
quieter within his own room, Kaoru grew increasingly agitated. Tamakazuras sorrow
over his resemblance to Kashiwagi fueled suspicions still in the making. He had borne
them since childhood to present, a malignant spirit of uncertainty that could find little

reprieve. There was none whom could offer him any answer or explanation. He now
regretted leaving Tamakazura without having illuminated the mystery behind their
resemblance. At least some hint would have sufficed. It may have been all that was
needed to alleviate the painful doubts within his heart. Though he was not sure of this, it
was already too late. He would never presume to yield her hidden sorrows again.
The air entered his body and once again returned serenity to his heart. His mind
bended to the pressures of sleep, still resting within the walls of the palace.
An unrecognizable man approached him in his dreams. The man was dressed in
soft and delicate robes lined with hues of black and white. The clothes appeared almost
overbearing upon his thin and emaciated frame. His features, most prominently eyes,
cheeks and lips, were hidden away beneath the shadow of a formal cap. Confronted by a
strange man in the setting of a thick and endless fog, Kaoru, still dreaming, found the
situation greatly unnerving.
There is a disturbance deep within your heart. What are you searching for?
Kaoru thought to himself in his sleep, Who are you? But he could not speak.
Why are you here? Can you answer the suspicions moored to my turbulent spirit?
The words would not escape his mouth. He repeatedly sought to pose these
questions out loud, but they were all rendered futile. He had been searching since
childhood, during the persistent days of whispered gossip and rumors. He thought to
himself, What connection does he have with me? Is he Kashiwagi, the young brother of
Tamakazura, now wandering lost and restrained with regrets?
Failing to reply, he panicked. He would certainly wake up, without ever
understanding the significance provided by such divine intervention.

If you cannot summon the strength to intercede upon your own behalf, then I
cannot help you. It seems as if I was not meant to tell. There are many things I wish to
recount for you, but you may no longer rely upon me as a source of understanding. That
will only lead you further astray.
The strange man began to retreat into the surrounding fog. Kaoru remained
bewildered, rooted to his feet like a firm and heavy tree.
You must search deep within your heart. Your desires will locate the answer. If
you fail your heart, you will suffer regret and longing, doomed to wander the land for an
eternity. I must now take my leave. I entrust you with one final proposal, that your
challenge will rest in Uji, for now at least.
The unknown man disappeared.
Kaoru called after him, long after he had woken up. The image of the man was
permanently gone. Light shown through the vanished fog, once affixed to the very air. A
bright moon hidden behind the clouds colored the sky with lines of gold. The brilliant
sky seemed terribly disagreeable with the unsettling words of the man from his dream. It
was all as if part of an extravagant illustration none could hope to make sense of.
One could not blame Kaoru. After all, the presence of the old man seemed indeed
real, as real as the bright stars shining before his eyes. He still regretted his terrible
reticence, still vivid within his memory of the dream. He understood that this was not
something to be taken lightly. Kaoru believed it could not possibly have been
coincidence, or of his mere imagination. He still however, questioned the intentions
behind the unknown man. He had, after all, been waiting on great pains of suspicion and
doubt. It was indeed very inauspicious to be paid a visit by such a person in a dream.

Still there was hope, and he was now unwilling to give it up. He continued to call
for the man, until his voice ran out like a dry pond during a hot summer day. For now the
event remained his secret. There was none who could help his plight, and the myriad of
questions residing within.
Greatly disturbed by the noise in the middle of the night, the women thought his
behavior wild, even delirious. Worried over the condition of his spirit, they consulted a
minister the very next morning. The minister could find nothing wrong in the matter, for
Kaoru had returned to his usual, dignified self. The minister attributed the cause to
fatigue, especially for a young man traveling about immediately after such a dreadful
storm. It was indeed very ominous, and the minister continued to visit Kaoru.
Meanwhile, Kaoru went forth in managing his duties within the capital. His
enthusiasm for his role within the court increasingly waned, as the blossoms of cherry
tree wither before the summer. The affairs grew progressively inconsequential to him,
but he nonetheless remained tact and upright in his dealings with people in court.
Though treading cautiously at every step, Kaoru was secretly heeding the words of the
strange man. Many times he encountered frustration, no matter how serene the
atmosphere would be. It was all very complicated, he thought. He contained the
confusion within him, for still there was no person he could speak to. He maintained a
cordial relationship with Tamakazura, and no mention of Kashiwagi was heard of since
the day he played his flute. Though still attached to his daily moorings as a court official,
Kaoru continued to search for excuses to make an excursion into Uji.
It was now the third Month. The cherries were in bud and then suddenly the sky was a
storm of blossoms and falling petals...