Richie - Memoirs of the warrior Kumagai : a historical novel

"Donald Richie has given a new turn to the incident that made the warrior Kumagai Naozane immortal. His superior narrative powers will carry the reader easily along to find out what it is and to learn of its subtle implications."

- Edward G. Seidensticker

"A tour de force combining a commanding mastery of historical fact and detail, a comprehensive understanding of the human spirit, and a poetic quality of expression that transforms the hearts of all those it touches."

- The Japan Foundation Newsletter

"There is Richie's graceful writing... scenes that reveal so much in so few words... subtle character sketches of familiar historical figures."

- The Asahi Evening News

"Blood-soaked as these pages may be, Richie also infuses them with a good dose of black humor ... a rich and multi-layered view ... an admirable job of evoking the fading brilliance and aristocratic excesses of old Kyoto."

- The Japan Times

"Richie recreates the feel and flavor of the Heian period, as well as the sense and sensibilities of the people ... of value to students of both the classical and modern martial arts."

- Koryu Book Reviews

"Fabulous tale of medieval Japan, moving and insightful... well written, fascinating to read, impeccably researched."

- George Sawyer

Attached MS.

On the fourteenth day of the ninth month in the second year of the Jgen era [1208], the priest Rensei, Kumagai Jir Naozane, passed away.

Above are his final words, just as he left them. After a short illness he expired. Before this he had been in tolerable health, had taken part in the services of this temple, and taken up the chanting of the sutras.

The service was held in the temple grounds and the remains were cremated. Kumagai Naoie, son of the deceased, who had arrived at the temple several days before, took charge of these and will deliver them to Kmyji where they will be properly entombed.

In relating the circumstances of the Reverend Rensei's death, I should also report that there is an alternate account. He is said to have forecast his demise and music was heard from the sky, a light came from his mouth, the place was filled with fragrance, and a purple cloud drifted above the temple, paused for a time and then drifted away. Concerning the veracity of any of this, I can have no opinion because, though there, I saw none of it. I can, however, relate what did occur.

On the evening of the thirteenth day, my Master Rensei did not go into the garden as was his nightly habit, but instead took to his pallet. He seemed tired. I spoke of this, and he said that he was sixty-eight years of age and wanted to rest.

I did not report this, as perhaps I ought to have done. The reason I did not was that there was no one to report it to. The deacon was in the city, as he often is, and there was no one else of sufficient rank here in the temple.

It was a year since the Reverend Hnen was exiled to Sanuki and Master Shinran to Echigo, and since all public sessions for reciting the name of Amida Buddha had been officially banned, the temple was understaffed, as most of the acolytes had left. Many believers, however, still came; but they are not allowed to pray. It was some of these, I understand, who saw the lights, heard the music, smelled the fragrance, and watched the purple cloud.

It was consequently left to me to put my Master Rensei's effects in order. And looking at his last words, I feel that he so empowered me. I had spent half a year in making a fair copy of his manuscript. The deposition I left as it was; the rest I transcribed into proper script.

This manuscript was, I must say, in a sorry state. Not only was the calligraphy most badly formed but the pages were full of deletions and amendments, and in addition some were out of order. Nonetheless, I have done my best to ensure that my master's intentions are observed.

Signed: Acolyte Jban

Attached MS.

It has now been some years since the death of Priest Rensei, and I have again reread the manuscript. My workas the master said of his ownwas not so bad as I expected. The reason is, I believe, thatyoung though I wasI felt the importance of retaining my master's conversational style, one with which I was familiar. Though the result may be of small literary elegance, it is an account, I hope and believe, true to the writer's intentions.

My reason for now disinterring this manuscript is that I long pondered how properly to dispose of it and to ensure that it is kept from harm.

During the recent disturbances, I have kept it among my effects, but now the times seem less dangerous. The Hj Regent is in full command of Heianky and His Majesty, the Emperor Juntoku, is on the throne.

Therefore I can now place this manuscript, plus the deposition and these final notes of mine, into the temple archives, hoping they will rest undisturbed until such time as they may be read as their author intended.

The seventeenth day of the fourth month
of the first year of Jky [1219]

Lay-Priest Jban
Seiryji

T O BEGIN AT THE BEGINNING, NOW SIXTY-FIVE YEARS AGO, I WAS born in the sixth year of the Hen era [1140] on the plains of Musashi, a flat land of marshes and meadows two weeks' march east of the capital. Back then many of the forests were still standing and none of the fens had been drained. There were consequently many animals rabbits, badgers, bears. It was one of these last that my father killed, an act through which I came to carry the name that I do.

It happened in the following manner. One of these bears was ravaging sata on the Musashi plain. After my father had killed the animal he was given an amount of land. Since the place was fittingly called Kumagaya Bear Valleyhe took its name for his own.

A name was needed. Though we were a Taira family and though my grandfather had held high office, exile to Musashi left us unknown. This was interpreted as punishment, since my grandfather had received an imperial order to kill himself. He loyally did so and my infant father would doubtless have died as well had not his nurse carried him off from the capital. Eventually brought to Musashi, he was adopted as a son by a local magnate, Nariki Tayu, of the Hisashita family, and upon attaining sufficient years married the daughter of the house.

Kumagai Naosada he was called. The name must have had a new and raw sound to it. If so, it fitted us well, living out there on the plains in a clump of huts dignified by the title of manor, surrounded by peasants and by soldiers no longer allowed to fight.

Perhaps that is the reason my father killed the bear. He desired to distinguish himself, to rise in the world. Killing bears was, to be sure, no especial feat in Bear Valley, but some notice was given this deed, perhaps because he was only sixteen at the time. Thus my parent received the right to the lands that became known as the family estate, and upon his death two years later much was made of the bear story and he was mourned as a great hunter.

Though I was only two at the time, I remember something of the ceremonythe long speeches, the great funeral pyre, and the invocation to the spirit of my disgraced grandparent. Later, when appropriately older, I was more fully informed about this person. He, a true Taira, had been loyal to the imperial cause and his enforced suicide was the result of slander. The emperor had been misled by the Fujiwara family, always meddling in government, and by the Minamoto clan, always maneuvering for power.