著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:黒い髪の女 ―ファム・ファタルかファム・イデアルか?―中島淑恵(富山大学人文学部教授)が,これまでの研究成果を踏まえ,Lafcadio Hearn=ラフカディオ・ハーン=小泉八雲に関する様々を語るこれは,当日,会場でICレコーダを用いて収録したMP3形式の音声ファイル
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

中島淑恵(富山大学人文学部教授)が,これまでの研究成果を踏まえ,Lafcadio Hearn=ラフカディオ・ハーン=小泉八雲に関する様々を語るこれは,当日,会場でICレコーダを用いて収録したMP3形式の音声ファイル
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:南の島の記憶ー『チタ』を読む0.はじめに ハーンのアメリカ時代(19歳~40歳)クレオール(Créole)とは?あらすじ 「デルニエール島の伝説 (The Legend of L'Ile Derniere)」 「海の猛威を逃れて (Out of the Sea's Strength)」 「潮の影 (The Shadow of the Tide)」チタの髪の描写 1)チタ発見の手ががり 2)チタの金髪 3)チタの身元捜し 4)クレオール問答 5)チタと同じ金髪の少女の死骸 6)チタの母と思われる死骸ーアデル 7)アデルの死骸はニューオリンズに運ばれ,夫ジュリアン,娘ユーラリとともに墓碑銘に刻まれる 8)チタと養母カルメンとの会話 9)実の父ジュリアンとの再会の時のチタ 10)ジュリアンの煩悶 11)名前を聞く,名前を名乗る 12)ジュリアン,チタの首筋にほくろ発見 13)金髪をめぐるジュリアンの類推大自然の猛威ー海,水による災害,ハリケーン,津波水の傍らにあったハーンの生涯ーレフカダ,ニューオリンズ,マルチニーク,松江,焼津海水浴
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:美しきクレオール:ユーマを読む・私たちが抱いているアメリカのイメージ・『ユーマ:西インドの奴隷の物語』Youma, The Story of a West-Indian Slave.・平井呈一「八雲の小説」より・中田堅次「ユーマ」の項目より(『小泉八雲事典』)・クレオール小説の元祖・『ユーマ』の構成1.ユーマの出自および幼少期,性格,成長2.デリヴィエール家の所有していたアンヌ・マリーヌの農場の描写,クレオールの物語,クレオール語による教義問答,クレオールの物語3.ユーマの乳母としての日常,さまざまな物語をマヨットに聞かせる,「ケレマン婆さん」の挿話4.マヨットの部屋,ユーマ蛇に咬まれる,ガブリエルに助けられる5.ガブリエルの好意,贈り物6.ガブリエル,デリヴィエール氏にユーマを嫁にしたいと頼む7.ペロネット夫人,ユーマをアンヌ・マリーヌから引き戻そうとする,ユーマの苦悩,自らの奴隷という立場に煩悶,ガブリエルがドミニカへの出奔を示唆8.ユーマの煩悶9.海岸,マヨットと遊ぶユーマ,ガブリエルが再び誘いに来る,ガブリエルとの長い会話,ガブリエルの誘いを断る10.アンヌ・マリーヌ最後の夜,血葛の挿話11.奴隷による武装蜂起12.奴隷による武装蜂起13.ユーマとデリヴィエール氏との会話14.ユーマの最期
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:夫婦の契りの物語:約束を守るか守らないか※資料については,下方の「関連URI」にリンクがあります。・OSHIDORI原文(by Lafcadio Hearn),平川祐弘:訳,原話『古今著聞集』・THE STORY OF O-TEI原文(by Lafcadio Hearn),平川祐弘:訳,原話『夜窓鬼談』・「こわい」とはどういうことか?「こわい話」=「怪談」?「怪談」の定義(Wikipediaより)・『怪談』だけではない怪異の物語・なぜハーンは『怪談』を訳さずに「KWAIDAN」としたのか?・1899年『霊の国日本にて』所収「小さな詩」("Bits of poetry" in In Ghostly Japan)・『怪談』1904年・1.『ギリシャ詞華集』の墓碑銘・1.1.『ギリシャ詞華集』とは?『ギリシャ詞華集』の変遷『ギリシャ詞華集』の内容・1.2.「墓碑銘」=「碑銘詩」とは?・ヘルン文庫所蔵の『ギリシャ詞華集』英語版:書架番号[302]フランス語版:書架番号[1641][1642]
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:溺死する女I.宍道湖の嫁ヶ島伝説「神々の首都」https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8130Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan: First Series by Lafcadio HearnChapter Seven The Chief City of the Province of the GodsSec. 8The vapours have vanished, sharply revealing a beautiful little islet inthe lake, lying scarcely half a mile away--a low, narrow strip of landwith a Shinto shrine upon it, shadowed by giant pines; not pines likeours, but huge, gnarled, shaggy, tortuous shapes, vast-reaching likeancient oaks. Through a glass one can easily discern a torii, and beforeit two symbolic lions of stone (Kara-shishi), one with its head brokenoff, doubtless by its having been overturned and dashed about by heavywaves during some great storm. This islet is sacred to Benten, theGoddess of Eloquence and Beauty, wherefore it is called Benten-no-shima.But it is more commonly called Yomega-shima, or 'The Island of the YoungWife,' by reason of a legend. It is said that it arose in one night,noiselessly as a dream, bearing up from the depths of the lake thebody of a drowned woman who had been very lovely, very pious, and veryunhappy. The people, deeming this a sign from heaven, consecrated theislet to Benten, and thereon built a shrine unto her, planted treesabout it, set a torii before it, and made a rampart about it with greatcuriously-shaped stones; and there they buried the drowned woman.II.焼津にて「惚れたがために溺れ死ぬ女」羽島娘,ギリシア神話ヘーローとレアンドロスの物語https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8128In Ghostly Japan by Lafcadio HearnAt YaidzuIIAs I touched the stones again, I was startled by seeing two whiteshadows before me; but a kindly voice, asking if the water wascold, set me at ease. It was the voice of my old landlord,Otokichi the fishseller, who had come to look for me, accompaniedby his wife."Only pleasantly cool," I made answer, as I threw on my robe togo home with them."Ah," said the wife, "it is not good to go out there on the nightof the Bon!""I did not go far," I replied;--"I only wanted to look at thelanterns.""Even a Kappa gets drowned sometimes,"(1) protested Otokichi."There was a man of this village who swam home a distance ofseven ri, in bad weather, after his boat had been broken. But hewas drowned afterwards."Seven ri means a trifle less than eighteen miles. I asked if anyof the young men now in the settlement could do as much."Probably some might," the old man replied. "There are manystrong swimmers. All swim here,--even the little children. Butwhen fisher-folk swim like that, it is only to save their lives.""Or to make love," the wife added,--"like the Hashima girl.""Who?" queried I."A fisherman's daughter," said Otokichi. "She had a lover inAjiro, several ri distant; and she used to swim to him at night,and swim back in the morning. He kept a light burning to guideher. But one dark night the light was neglected--or blown out;and she lost her way, and was drowned.... The story is famous inIdzu."--"So," I said to myself, "in the Far East, it is poor Hero thatdoes the swimming. And what, under such circumstances, would havebeen the Western estimate of Leander?"1 This is a common proverb:--Kappa mo obore-shini. The Kappa is awater-goblin, haunting rivers especially.III.『チータ』における水死体-なぜか女性の死体ばかり詳しく描写される1)I.の末尾,嵐のあとで,花嫁の水死体https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/717Chita: A Memory of Last Island by Lafcadio HearnThe Legend of L'Ile DerniereVII. There is money in notes and in coin--inpurses, in pocketbooks, and in pockets: plenty of it! There are silks,satins, laces, and fine linen to be stripped from the bodies of thedrowned,--and necklaces, bracelets, watches, finger-rings and finechains, brooches and trinkets ... "Chi bidizza!--Oh! chi beddamughieri! Eccu, la bidizza!" That ball-dress was made in Parisby--But you never heard of him, Sicilian Vicenzu ... "Che bellasposina!" Her betrothal ring will not come off, Giuseppe; but thedelicate bone snaps easily: your oyster-knife can sever the tendon ..."Guardate! chi bedda picciota!" Over her heart you will find it,Valentino--the locket held by that fine Swiss chain of wovenhair--"Caya manan!"And it is not your quadroon bondsmaid, sweet lady, who now disrobes youso roughly; those Malay hands are less deft than hers,--but sheslumbers very far away from you, and may not be aroused from her sleep."Na quita mo! dalaga!--na quita maganda!" ... Juan, the fastenings ofthose diamond ear-drops are much too complicated for your peon fingers:tear them out!--"Dispense, chulita!" ...... Suddenly a long, mighty silver trilling fills the ears of all:there is a wild hurrying and scurrying; swiftly, one after another, theoverburdened luggers spread wings and flutter away.Thrice the great cry rings rippling through the gray air, and over thegreen sea, and over the far-flooded shell-reefs, where the huge whiteflashes are,--sheet-lightning of breakers,--and over the weird wash ofcorpses coming in.It is the steam-call of the relief-boat, hastening to rescue theliving, to gather in the dead.The tremendous tragedy is over!2)黒人,混血娘の水死体Out of the Sea's StrengthIII. One was that of a negro, apparently well attired, andwearing a white apron;--the other seemed to be a young colored girl,clad in a blue dress; she was floating upon her face; they couldobserve that she had nearly straight hair, braided and tied with a redribbon. These were evidently house-servants,--slaves. But fromwhence? Nothing could be learned until the luggers should return; andnone of them was yet in sight. Still Feliu was not anxious as to thefate of his boats, manned by the best sailors of the coast. Rarely arethese Louisiana fishermen lost in sudden storms; even when to othereyes the appearances are most pacific and the skies most splendidlyblue, they divine some far-off danger, like the gulls; and like thegulls also, you see their light vessels fleeing landward. 3)チータ発見Out of the Sea's StrengthIII. Yes--but somethingtoo that lives and moves, like a quivering speck of gold; and Mateoalso perceives it, a gleam of bright hair,--and Miguel likewise, aftera moment's gazing. A living child;--a lifeless mother. Pobrecita! Noboat within reach, and only a mighty surf-wrestler could hope to swimthither and return!But already, without a word, brown Feliu has stripped for thestruggle;--another second, and he is shooting through the surf, headand hands tunnelling the foam hills.... One--two--three linespassed!--four!--that is where they first begin to crumble white fromthe summit,--five!--that he can ride fearlessly! ... Then swiftly,easily, he advances, with a long, powerful breast-stroke,--keeping hisbearded head well up to watch for drift,--seeming to slide with a swingfrom swell to swell,--ascending, sinking,--alternately presentingbreast or shoulder to the wave; always diminishing more and more to theeyes of Mateo and Miguel,--till he becomes a moving speck, occasionallyhard to follow through the confusion of heaping waters ... You are notafraid of the sharks, Feliu!--no: they are afraid of you; right andleft they slunk away from your coming that morning you swam for life inWest-Indian waters, with your knife in your teeth, while the balls ofthe Cuban coast-guard were purring all around you. That day theswarming sea was warm,--warm like soup--and clear, with an emeraldflash in every ripple,--not opaque and clamorous like the Gulf today... Miguel and his comrade are anxious. Ropes are unrolled andinter-knotted into a line. Miguel remains on the beach; but Mateo,bearing the end of the line, fights his way out,--swimming and wadingby turns, to the further sandbar, where the water is shallow enough tostand in,--if you know how to jump when the breaker comes.But Feliu, nearing the flooded shell-bank, watches the whiteflashings,--knows when the time comes to keep flat and take a long,long breath. One heavy volleying of foam,--darkness and hissing as ofa steam-burst; a vibrant lifting up; a rush into light,--and again thevolleying and the seething darkness. Once more,--and the fight is won!He feels the upcoming chill of deeper water,--sees before him the greenquaking of unbroken swells,--and far beyond him Mateo leaping on thebar,--and beside him, almost within arm's reach, a great billiard-tableswaying, and a dead woman clinging there, and ... the child.A moment more, and Feliu has lifted himself beside the waifs ... Howfast the dead woman clings, as if with the one power which is strong asdeath,--the desperate force of love! Not in vain; for the frailcreature bound to the mother's corpse with a silken scarf has still thestrength to cry out:--"Maman! maman!" But time is life now; and thetiny hands must be pulled away from the fair dead neck, and the scarftaken to bind the infant firmly to Feliu's broad shoulders,--quickly,roughly; for the ebb will not wait ...4)遺体発見Out of the Sea's StrengthVI. Some locks of bright hair stilladhering to the skull, a string of red beads, a white muslin dress, ahandkerchief broidered with the initials "A.L.B.,"--were secured asclews; and the little body was interred where it had been found.And, several days before, Captain Hotard, of the relief-boat EstelleBrousseaux, had found, drifting in the open Gulf (latitude 26 degrees43 minutes; longitude 88 degrees 17 minutes),--the corpse of afair-haired woman, clinging to a table. The body was disfigured beyondrecognition: even the slender bones of the hands had been stripped bythe nibs of the sea-birds-except one finger, the third of the left,which seemed to have been protected by a ring of gold, as by a charm.Graven within the plain yellow circlet was a date,--"JUILLET--1851";and the names,--"ADELE + JULIEN,"--separated by a cross. The Estellecarried coffins that day: most of them were already full; but therewas one for Adele.Who was she?--who was her Julien? ... When the Estelle and many othervessels had discharged their ghastly cargoes;--when the bereaved of theland had assembled as hastily as they might for the du y ofidentification;--when memories were strained almost to madness inresearch of names, dates, incidents--for the evocation of dead words,resurrection of vanished days, recollection of dear promises,--then, inthe confusion, it was believed and declared that the little corpsefound on the pelican island was the daughter of the wearer of thewedding ring: Adele La Brierre, nee Florane, wife of Dr. Julien LaBrierre, of New Orleans, who was numbered among the missing.And they brought dead Adele back,--up shadowy river windings, overlinked brightnesses of lake and lakelet, through many a greenglimmering bayou,--to the Creole city, and laid her to rest somewherein the old Saint-Louis Cemetery. And upon the tablet recording hername were also graven the words-- ..................... Aussi a la memoire de son mari; JULIEN RAYMOND LA BRIERRE, ne a la paroisse St. Landry, le 29 Mai; MDCCCXXVIII; et de leur fille, EULALIE, agee de 4 as et 5 mois,-- Qui tous perirent dans la grande tempete qui balaya L'Ile Derniere, le 10 Aout, MDCCCLVI ..... + ..... Priez pour eux!IV.「ギリシャ詞華集」ロードスのクセノクリトス(二九一,168ページ)水死した花嫁を父が嘆くギリシア詞華集(第2巻) (OPAC)http://opac.lib.u-toyama.ac.jp/opc/recordID/catalog.bib/BB19111267
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:死せる美女の物語:幽霊妻の源流※引用資料,参考資料については,下方の「関連URI」にリンクがあります。 0.ハーンの物語の中の「幽霊」1.「牡丹灯籠」2.「春の幽霊」3.ゴーティエ『死霊の恋』3-1.恋は一目ぼれ:視覚表現3-2.視覚から聴覚への転化3-3.触覚:手を触れること,吸血4.結論0.ハーンの物語の中の「幽霊」「飴を買う女」(<『神々の首都』)「牡丹灯籠」「耳なし芳一」「死骸にまたがる男」「青柳」?「雪女」?1.「牡丹燈篭」『霊の国の日本』の「恋の因果」初代三遊亭圓朝『剪灯新話』中国,明代『怪異談牡丹灯籠』五代目尾上菊五郎,歌舞伎ハーン「恋の因果」<<Passional Karma>> in In Gohstly Japan, The writings of Lafcadio Hearn, vol.9 pp.285-2862.「春の幽霊」<<Spring Phantoms>>, in Item, April 21, 1881The writings of Lafcadio Hearn, vol.2 pp.312-315"Petits Poemes en Prose"... the Woman that he shall never know stands before him like a ghost with sweet sad eyes of warning--and he dare not!3.ゴーティエ『死霊の恋』『クラリモンド』芥川龍之介訳,『クラリモンド』岡本綺堂訳>青空文庫Theophile Gautier, La morte amoureuse, 1839.Pierre Jules Theophile Gautierピエール・ジュール・テオフィル・ゴーティエ(1811年8月30日~1872年10月23日)3-1.恋は一目ぼれ:視覚表現Textes de litterature moderne et contemporaine / diriges par Alain Montandon et Jeanyves Guerin ; 190 . ?uvres completes / Theophile Gautier ; section 1 . Romans, contes et nouvelles / coordonnateur, A. Montandon ; t. 6(以下の引用ページ数は,このテクストによる。)http://opac.lib.u-toyama.ac.jp/opc/recordID/catalog.bib/BB24256407【引用1】p.403【引用2】p.403【引用3】p.403・全身,髪,額,睫毛,瞳【引用4】pp.403-404【引用5】p.404・歯,頬,鼻,肌【引用6】p.404・真珠,ドレス,手【引用7】p.404【引用8】p.404【引用9】p.4053-2.視覚から聴覚への転化【引用10】p.405【引用11】p.405【引用12】p.405【引用13】p.4063-3.触覚:手を触れること,吸血【引用14】p.406【引用15】p.416・頬,唇,睫毛,髪,手,腕【引用16】p.416【引用17】p.425【引用18】p.427【引用19】p.4294.結論
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山シティエフエム

番組名:『ふるさと探求録』,放送:毎週月~金曜 7時13分~,17時40分~中島淑恵(人文学部教授)がラフカディオ・ハーン=Lafcadio Hearn=小泉八雲の研究について語る。(第9回放送)放送局:富山シティエフエム(コミュニティ放送,JOZZ5AF-FM,77.7MHz,20W)番組概要:歴史や自然など富山について調査している人,科学や物理など富山で研究開発を行う人などを訪ね,富山の魅力を改めて探る。中島淑恵(人文学部教授)出演(ラフカディオ・ハーン=Lafcadio Hearn=小泉八雲の研究について)は第9回放送で月曜から金曜日にかけ,5日間にわたって次の通り放送された。収録は,放送に先立ってヘルン文庫内で行われた。第9回放送-1/5(2018年6月4日,月曜日:放送)第9回放送-2/5(2018年6月5日,火曜日:放送)第9回放送-3/5(2018年6月6日,水曜日:放送)第9回放送-4/5(2018年6月7日,木曜日:放送)第9回放送-5/5(2018年6月8日,金曜日:放送)
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山シティエフエム

中島淑恵(人文学部教授)出演(ラフカディオ・ハーン=Lafcadio Hearn=小泉八雲の研究について)は第9回放送で月曜から金曜日にかけ,5日間にわたって次の通り放送された。収録は,放送に先立ってヘルン文庫内で行われた。 第9回放送-1/5(2018年6月4日,月曜日:放送)第9回放送-2/5(2018年6月5日,火曜日:放送)第9回放送-3/5(2018年6月6日,水曜日:放送)第9回放送-4/5(2018年6月7日,木曜日:放送)第9回放送-5/5(2018年6月8日,金曜日:放送)
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山シティエフエム

番組名:『ふるさと探求録』,放送:毎週月~金曜 7時13分~,17時40分~中島淑恵(人文学部教授)がラフカディオ・ハーン=Lafcadio Hearn=小泉八雲の研究について語る。(第9回放送)放送局:富山シティエフエム(コミュニティ放送,JOZZ5AF-FM,77.7MHz,20W)番組概要:歴史や自然など富山について調査している人,科学や物理など富山で研究開発を行う人などを訪ね,富山の魅力を改めて探る。中島淑恵(人文学部教授)出演(ラフカディオ・ハーン=Lafcadio Hearn=小泉八雲の研究について)は第9回放送で月曜から金曜日にかけ,5日間にわたって次の通り放送された。収録は,放送に先立ってヘルン文庫内で行われた。第9回放送-1/5(2018年6月4日,月曜日:放送)第9回放送-2/5(2018年6月5日,火曜日:放送)第9回放送-3/5(2018年6月6日,水曜日:放送)第9回放送-4/5(2018年6月7日,木曜日:放送)第9回放送-5/5(2018年6月8日,金曜日:放送)
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山シティエフエム

番組名:『ふるさと探求録』,放送:毎週月~金曜 7時13分~,17時40分~中島淑恵(人文学部教授)がラフカディオ・ハーン=Lafcadio Hearn=小泉八雲の研究について語る。(第9回放送)放送局:富山シティエフエム(コミュニティ放送,JOZZ5AF-FM,77.7MHz,20W) 番組概要:歴史や自然など富山について調査している人,科学や物理など富山で研究開発を行う人などを訪ね,富山の魅力を改めて探る。中島淑恵(人文学部教授)出演(ラフカディオ・ハーン=Lafcadio Hearn=小泉八雲の研究について)は第9回放送で月曜から金曜日にかけ,5日間にわたって次の通り放送された。収録は,放送に先立ってヘルン文庫内で行われた。 第9回放送-1/5(2018年6月4日,月曜日:放送)第9回放送-2/5(2018年6月5日,火曜日:放送)第9回放送-3/5(2018年6月6日,水曜日:放送)第9回放送-4/5(2018年6月7日,木曜日:放送)第9回放送-5/5(2018年6月8日,金曜日:放送)
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山シティエフエム

中島淑恵(人文学部教授)出演(ラフカディオ・ハーン=Lafcadio Hearn=小泉八雲の研究について)は第9回放送で月曜から金曜日にかけ,5日間にわたって次の通り放送された。収録は,放送に先立ってヘルン文庫内で行われた。 第9回放送-1/5(2018年6月4日,月曜日:放送)第9回放送-2/5(2018年6月5日,火曜日:放送)第9回放送-3/5(2018年6月6日,水曜日:放送)第9回放送-4/5(2018年6月7日,木曜日:放送)第9回放送-5/5(2018年6月8日,金曜日:放送)
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学人文学部
雑誌
富山大学人文学部紀要 (ISSN:03865975)
巻号頁・発行日
no.66, pp.175-189, 2017

富山大学附属図書館所蔵のラフカディオ・ハーン(小泉八雲)旧蔵書(ヘルン文庫)には,2種類の『ギリシア詞華集』が収蔵されている。そのうち1種類は英語版で,書架番号[302]The Greek anthology : as selected for the use of Westminster, Eton and other Public schools / literally translated into English prose, chiefly by George Burges, to witch are added Metrical Versions by Bland, Merivale, and others, and an index of reference to the originals, London, G. Bell, 1893.であり, もう1種類はフランス語版で2巻本の,書架番号[1641]と[1642]Anthologie Grecque, Tome I-II,traduite sur le texte publié d'après le manuscrit palatin par Fr. Jacobs, avec des notices biograophiques et littéraires sur les poëtes de l'anthologie, Paris, Hachette, 1863. であり,いずれもハーンが来日後に購入したものと思われる。いずれの『ギリシア詞華集』にもハーンによる鉛筆の書き込みが随所に見られるが,本稿はそのうちフランス語訳の2巻本について調査を行った結果を記すものである。
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:輪廻転生-女の恨みと生まれ変わり1) DiplomacyIt had been ordered that the execution should take place in the gardenof the yashiki (1). So the man was taken there, and made to kneel downin a wide sanded space crossed by a line of tobi-ishi, orstepping-stones, such as you may still see in Japaneselandscape-gardens. His arms were bound behind him. Retainers broughtwater in buckets, and rice-bags filled with pebbles; and they packedthe rice-bags round the kneeling man,--so wedging him in that he couldnot move. The master came, and observed the arrangements. He found themsatisfactory, and made no remarks.Suddenly the condemned man cried out to him:--"Honored Sir, the fault for which I have been doomed I did notwittingly commit. It was only my very great stupidity which caused thefault. Having been born stupid, by reason of my Karma, I could notalways help making mistakes. But to kill a man for being stupid iswrong,--and that wrong will be repaid. So surely as you kill me, sosurely shall I be avenged;--out of the resentment that you provoke willcome the vengeance; and evil will be rendered for evil."...If any person be killed while feeling strong resentment, the ghost ofthat person will be able to take vengeance upon the killer. This thesamurai knew. He replied very gently,--almost caressingly:--"We shall allow you to frighten us as much as you please--after you aredead. But it is difficult to believe that you mean what you say. Willyou try to give us some sign of your great resentment--after your headhas been cut off?""Assuredly I will," answered the man."Very well," said the samurai, drawing his long sword;--"I am now goingto cut off your head. Directly in front of you there is astepping-stone. After your head has been cut off, try to bite thestepping-stone. If your angry ghost can help you to do that, some of usmay be frightened... Will you try to bite the stone?""I will bite it!" cried the man, in great anger,--"I will bite it!--Iwill bite"--There was a flash, a swish, a crunching thud: the bound body bowed overthe rice sacks,--two long blood-jets pumping from the shorn neck;--andthe head rolled upon the sand. Heavily toward the stepping-stone itrolled: then, suddenly bounding, it caught the upper edge of the stonebetween its teeth, clung desperately for a moment, and dropped inert.None spoke; but the retainers stared in horror at their master. Heseemed to be quite unconcerned. He merely held out his sword to thenearest attendant, who, with a wooden dipper, poured water over theblade from haft to point, and then carefully wiped the steel severaltimes with sheets of soft paper... And thus ended the ceremonial partof the incident.For months thereafter, the retainers and the domestics lived inceaseless fear of ghostly visitation. None of them doubted that thepromised vengeance would come; and their constant terror caused them tohear and to see much that did not exist. They became afraid of thesound of the wind in the bamboos,--afraid even of the stirring ofshadows in the garden. At last, after taking counsel together, theydecided to petition their master to have a Segaki-service (2) performedon behalf of the vengeful spirit."Quite unnecessary," the samurai said, when his chief retainer haduttered the general wish... "I understand that the desire of a dyingman for revenge may be a cause for fear. But in this case there isnothing to fear."The retainer looked at his master beseechingly, but hesitated to askthe reason of the alarming confidence."Oh, the reason is simple enough," declared the samurai, divining theunspoken doubt. "Only the very last intention of the fellow could havebeen dangerous; and when I challenged him to give me the sign, Idiverted his mind from the desire of revenge. He died with the setpurpose of biting the stepping-stone; and that purpose he was able toaccomplish, but nothing else. All the rest he must have forgotten... Soyou need not feel any further anxiety about the matter."--And indeed the dead man gave no more trouble. Nothing at all happened.2) OshidoriThere was a falconer and hunter, named Sonjo, who lived in the districtcalled Tamura-no-Go, of the province of Mutsu. One day he went outhunting, and could not find any game. But on his way home, at a placecalled Akanuma, he perceived a pair of oshidori [1] (mandarin-ducks),swimming together in a river that he was about to cross. To killoshidori is not good; but Sonjo happened to be very hungry, and he shotat the pair. His arrow pierced the male: the female escaped into therushes of the further shore, and disappeared. Sonjo took the dead birdhome, and cooked it.That night he dreamed a dreary dream. It seemed to him that a beautifulwoman came into his room, and stood by his pillow, and began to weep.So bitterly did she weep that Sonjo felt as if his heart were beingtorn out while he listened. And the woman cried to him: "Why,--oh! whydid you kill him?--of what wrong was he guilty?... At Akanuma we wereso happy together,--and you killed him!... What harm did he ever doyou? Do you even know what you have done?--oh! do you know what acruel, what a wicked thing you have done?... Me too you havekilled,--for I will not live without my husband!... Only to tell youthis I came."... Then again she wept aloud,--so bitterly that the voiceof her crying pierced into the marrow of the listener's bones;--and shesobbed out the words of this poem:-- Hi kurureba Sasoeshi mono wo-- Akanuma no Makomo no kure no Hitori-ne zo uki!("At the coming of twilight I invited him to return with me--! Now tosleep alone in the shadow of the rushes of Akanuma--ah! what miseryunspeakable!") [2]And after having uttered these verses she exclaimed:--"Ah, you do notknow--you cannot know what you have done! But to-morrow, when you go toAkanuma, you will see,--you will see..." So saying, and weeping verypiteously, she went away.When Sonjo awoke in the morning, this dream remained so vivid in hismind that he was greatly troubled. He remembered the words:--"Butto-morrow, when you go to Akanuma, you will see,--you will see." And heresolved to go there at once, that he might learn whether his dream wasanything more than a dream.So he went to Akanuma; and there, when he came to the river-bank, hesaw the female oshidori swimming alone. In the same moment the birdperceived Sonjo; but, instead of trying to escape, she swam straighttowards him, looking at him the while in a strange fixed way. Then,with her beak, she suddenly tore open her own body, and died before thehunter's eyes...Sonjo shaved his head, and became a priest.2)-2 Trois contes by Gustave FlaubertLe cerf, qui etait noir et monstrueux de taille, portait seizeandouillers avec une barbe blanche. La biche, blonde comme les feuillesmortes, broutait le gazon; et le faon tachete, sans l'interrompre danssa marche, lui tetait la mamelle.L'arbalete encore une fois ronfla. Le faon, tout de suite, fut tue.Alors sa mere, en regardant le ciel, brama d'une voix profonde,dechirante, humaine. Julien exaspere, d'un coup en plein poitrail,l'etendit par terre.Le grand cerf l'avait vu, fit un bond. Julien lui envoya sa dernierefleche. Elle l'atteignit au front, et y resta plantee.Le grand cerf n'eut pas l'air de la sentir; en enjambant par-dessus lesmorts, il avancait toujours, allait fondre sur lui, l'eventrer; etJulien reculait dans une epouvante indicible. Le prodigieux animals'arreta; et les yeux flamboyants, solennel comme un patriarche et commeun justicier, pendant qu'une cloche au loin tintait, il repeta trois fois:--≪Maudit! maudit! maudit! Un jour, coeur feroce, tu assassineras tonpere et ta mere!≫Il plia les genoux, ferma doucement ses paupieres, et mourut.Julien fut stupefait, puis accable d'une fatigue soudaine; et un degout,une tristesse immense l'envahit. Le front dans les deux mains, il pleurapendant longtemps.====De l'autre cote du vallon, sur le bord de la foret, il apercut un cerf,une biche et son faon.3) Ingwa-banashiThe daimyo's wife was dying, and knew that she was dying. She hadnot been able to leave her bed since the early autumn of thetenth Bunsei. It was now the fourth month of the twelfth Bunsei,--the year 1829 by Western counting; and the cherry-trees wereblossoming. She thought of the cherry-trees in her garden, and ofthe gladness of spring. She thought of her children. She thoughtof her husband's various concubines,--especially the Lady Yukiko,nineteen years old."My dear wife," said the daimyo, "you have suffered very much forthree long years. We have done all that we could to get youwell,--watching beside you night and day, praying for you, andoften fasting for your sake, But in spite of our loving care, andin spite of the skill of our best physicians, it would now seenthat the end of your life is not far off. Probably we shallsorrow more than you will sorrow because of your having to leavewhat the Buddha so truly termed 'this burning-house of the world.I shall order to be performed--no matter what the cost--everyreligious rite that can serve you in regard to your next rebirth;and all of us will pray without ceasing for you, that you may nothave to wander in the Black Space, but nay quickly enterParadise, and attain to Buddha-hood."He spoke with the utmost tenderness, pressing her the while.Then, with eyelids closed, she answered him in a voice thin asthe voice of in insect:--"I am grateful--most grateful--for your kind words.... Yes, it istrue, as you say, that I have been sick for three long years, andthat I have been treated with all possible care and affection....Why, indeed, should I turn away from the one true Path at thevery moment of my death?... Perhaps to think of worldly mattersat such a time is not right;--but I have one last request tomake,--only one.... Call here to me the Lady Yukiko;--you knowthat I love her like a sister. I want to speak to her about theaffairs of this household."Yukiko came at the summons of the lord, and, in obedience to asign from him, knelt down beside the couch. The daimyo's wifeopened her eyes, and looked at Yukiko, and spoke:--"Ah, here isYukiko!... I am so pleased to see you, Yukiko!... Come a littlecloser,--so that you can hear me well: I am not able to speakloud.... Yukiko, I am going to die. I hope that you will befaithful in all things to our dear lord;--for I want you to takemy place when I am gone.... I hope that you will always be lovedby him,--yes, even a hundred times more than I have been,--andthat you will very soon be promoted to a higher rank, and becomehis honored wife.... And I beg of you always to cherish our dearlord: never allow another woman to rob you of his affection....This is what I wanted to say to you, dear Yukiko.... Have youbeen able to understand?""Oh, my dear Lady," protested Yukiko, "do not, I entreat you, saysuch strange things to me! You well know that I am of poor andmean condition:--how could I ever dare to aspire to become thewife of our lord!""Nay, nay!" returned the wife, huskily,--"this is not a time forwords of ceremony: let us speak only the truth to each other.After my death, you will certainly be promoted to a higher place;and I now assure you again that I wish you to become the wife ofour lord--yes, I wish this, Yukiko, even more than I wish tobecome a Buddha!... Ah, I had almost forgotten!--I want you to dosomething for me, Yukiko. You know that in the garden there is ayae-zakura,(2) which was brought here, the year before last, fromMount Yoshino in Yamato. I have been told that it is now in fullbloom;--and I wanted so much to see it in flower! In a littlewhile I shall be dead;--I must see that tree before I die. Now Iwish you to carry me into the garden--at once, Yukiko,--so that Ican see it.... Yes, upon your back, Yukiko;--take me upon yourback...."While thus asking, her voice had gradually become clear andstrong,--as if the intensity of the wish had given her new force:then she suddenly burst into tears. Yukiko knelt motionless, notknowing what to do; but the lord nodded assent."It is her last wish in this world," he said. "She always lovedcherry-flowers; and I know that she wanted very much to see thatYamato-tree in blossom. Come, my dear Yukiko, let her have herwill."As a nurse turns her back to a child, that the child may cling toit, Yukiko offered her shoulders to the wife, and said:--"Lady, I am ready: please tell me how I best can help you.""Why, this way!"--responded the dying woman, lifting herself withan almost superhuman effort by clinging to Yukiko's shoulders.But as she stood erect, she quickly slipped her thin hands downover the shoulders, under the robe, and clutched the breasts ofthe girl,, and burst into a wicked laugh."I have my wish!" she cried-"I have my wish for the cherry-bloom,(3)--but not the cherry-bloom of the garden!... I could notdie before I got my wish. Now I have it!--oh, what a delight!"And with these words she fell forward upon the crouching girl,and died.The attendants at once attempted to lift the body from Yukiko'sshoulders, and to lay it upon the bed. But--strange to say!--thisseemingly easy thing could not be done. The cold hands hadattached themselves in some unaccountable way to the breasts ofthe girl,--appeared to have grown into the quick flesh. Yukikobecame senseless with fear and pain.Physicians were called. They could not understand what had takenplace. By no ordinary methods could the hands of the dead womanbe unfastened from the body of her victim;--they so clung thatany effort to remove them brought blood. This was not because thefingers held: it was because the flesh of the palms had uniteditself in some inexplicable manner to the flesh of the breasts!At that time the most skilful physician in Yedo was a foreigner,--a Dutch surgeon. It was decided to summon him. After a carefulexamination he said that he could not understand the case, andthat for the immediate relief of Yukiko there was nothing to bedone except to cut the hands from the corpse. He declared that itwould be dangerous to attempt to detach them from the breasts.His advice was accepted; and the hands' were amputated at thewrists. But they remained clinging to the breasts; and there theysoon darkened and dried up,--like the hands of a person longdead.Yet this was only the beginning of the horror.Withered and bloodless though they seemed, those hands were notdead. At intervals they would stir--stealthily, like great greyspiders. And nightly thereafter,--beginning always at the Hour ofthe Ox,(4)--they would clutch and compress and torture. Only atthe Hour of the Tiger the pain would cease.Yukiko cut off her hair, and became a mendicant-nun,--taking thereligious name of Dassetsu. She had an ibai (mortuary tablet)made, bearing the kaimyo of her dead mistress,--"Myo-Ko-In-DenChizan-Ryo-Fu Daishi";--and this she carried about with her inall her wanderings; and every day before it she humbly besoughtthe dead for pardon, and performed a Buddhist service in orderthat the jealous spirit might find rest. But the evil karma thathad rendered such an affliction possible could not soon beexhausted. Every night at the Hour of the Ox, the hands neverfailed to torture her, during more than seventeen years,--according to the testimony of those persons to whom she last toldher story, when she stopped for one evening at the house ofNoguchi Dengozayemon, in the village of Tanaka in the district ofKawachi in the province of Shimotsuke. This was in the third yearof Kokwa (1846). Thereafter nothing more was ever heard of her.1 Lit., "a tale of ingwa." Ingwa is a Japanese Buddhist term forevil karma, or the evil consequence of faults committed in aformer state of existence. Perhaps the curious title of thenarrative is best explained by the Buddhist teaching that thedead have power to injure the living only in consequence of evilactions committed by their victims in some former life. Bothtitle and narrative may be found in the collection of weirdstories entitled Hyaku-Monogatari.2 Yae-zakura, yae-no-sakura, a variety of Japanese cherry-treethat bears double-blossoms.3 In Japanese poetry and proverbial phraseology, the physicalbeauty of a woman is compared to the cherry-flower; whilefeminine moral beauty is compared to the plum-flower.4 In ancient Japanese time, the Hour of the Ox was the specialhour of ghosts. It began at 2 A.M., and lasted until 4 A.M.--forthe old Japanese hour was double the length of the modern hour.The Hour of the Tiger began at 4 A.M.4) XXV Of ghosts and goblinsSec. 1THERE was a Buddha, according to the Hokkekyo who 'even assumed theshape of a goblin to preach to such as were to be converted by agoblin.' And in the same Sutra may be found this promise of the Teacher:'While he is dwelling lonely in the wilderness, I will send thithergoblins in great number to keep him company.' The appalling characterof this promise is indeed somewhat modified by the assurance that godsalso are to be sent. But if ever I become a holy man, I shall take heednot to dwell in the wilderness, because I have seen Japanese goblins,and I do not like them.Kinjuro showed them to me last night. They had come to town for thematsuri of our own ujigami, or parish-temple; and, as there were manycurious things to be seen at the night festival, we started for thetemple after dark, Kinjuro carrying a paper lantern painted with mycrest.It had snowed heavily in the morning; but now the sky and the sharpstill air were clear as diamond; and the crisp snow made a pleasantcrunching sound under our feet as we walked; and it occurred to me tosay: 'O Kinjuro, is there a God of Snow?''I cannot tell,' replied Kinjuro. 'There be many gods I do not know; andthere is not any man who knows the names of all the gods. But there isthe Yuki-Onna, the Woman of the Snow.''And what is the Yuki-Onna?''She is the White One that makes the Faces in the snow. She does not anyharm, only makes afraid. By day she lifts only her head, and frightensthose who journey alone. But at night she rises up sometimes, tallerthan the trees, and looks about a little while, and then falls back in ashower of snow.' [1]'What is her face like?''It is all white, white. It is an enormous face. And it is a lonesomeface.'[The word Kinjuro used was samushii. Its common meaning is 'lonesome';but he used it, I think, in the sense of 'weird.']'Did you ever see her, Kinjuro?''Master, I never saw her. But my father told me that once when he was achild, he wanted to go to a neighbour's house through the snow to playwith another little boy; and that on the way he saw a great white Facerise up from the snow and look lonesomely about, so that he cried forfear and ran back. Then his people all went out and looked; but therewas only snow; and then they knew that he had seen the Yuki-Onna.''And in these days, Kinjuro, do people ever see her?''Yes. Those who make the pilgrimage to Yabumura, in the period calledDai-Kan, which is the Time of the Greatest Cold, [2] they sometimes seeher.''What is there at Yabumura, Kinjuro?''There is the Yabu-jinja, which is an ancient and famous temple of Yabu-no-Tenno-San--the God of Colds, Kaze-no-Kami. It is high upon a hill,nearly nine ri from Matsue. And the great matsuri of that temple is heldupon the tenth and eleventh days of the Second Month. And on those daysstrange things may be seen. For one who gets a very bad cold prays tothe deity of Yabu-jinja to cure it, and takes a vow to make a pilgrimagenaked to the temple at the time of the matsuri.''Naked?''Yes: the pilgrims wear only waraji, and a little cloth round theirloins. And a great many men and women go naked through the snow to thetemple, though the snow is deep at that time. And each man carries abunch of gohei and a naked sword as gifts to the temple; and each womancarries a metal mirror. And at the temple, the priests receive them,performing curious rites. For the priests then, according to ancientcustom, attire themselves like sick men, and lie down and groan, anddrink, potions made of herbs, prepared after the Chinese manner.''But do not some of the pilgrims die of cold, Kinjuro?''No: our Izumo peasants are hardy. Besides, they run swiftly, so thatthey reach the temple all warm. And before returning they put on thickwarm robes. But sometimes, upon the way, they see the Yuki-Onna.'==========='Long ago, in the days of a daimyo whose name has been forgotten, therelived in this old city a young man and a maid who loved each other verymuch. Their names are not remembered, but their story remains. Frominfancy they had been betrothed; and as children they played together,for their parents were neighbours. And as they grew up, they becamealways fonder of each other.'Before the youth had become a man, his parents died. But he was able toenter the service of a rich samurai, an officer of high rank, who hadbeen a friend of his people. And his protector soon took him into greatfavour, seeing him to be courteous, intelligent, and apt at arms. So theyoung man hoped to find himself shortly in a position that would make itpossible for him to marry his betrothed. But war broke out in the northand east; and he was summoned suddenly to follow his master to thefield. Before departing, however, he was able to see the girl; and theyexchanged pledges in the presence of her parents; and he promised,should he remain alive, to return within a year from that day to marryhis betrothed.'After his going much time passed without news of him, for there was nopost in that time as now; and the girl grieved so much for thinking ofthe chances of war that she became all white and thin and weak. Then atlast she heard of him through a messenger sent from the army to bearnews to the daimyo and once again a letter was brought to her by anothermessenger. And thereafter there came no word. Long is a year to one whowaits. And the year passed, and he did not return.'Other seasons passed, and still he did not come; and she thought himdead; and she sickened and lay down, and died, and was buried. Then herold parents, who had no other child, grieved unspeakably, and came tohate their home for the lonesomeness of it. After a time they resolvedto sell all they had, and to set out upon a sengaji--the greatpilgrimage to the Thousand Temples of the Nichiren-Shu, which requiresmany years to perform. So they sold their small house with all that itcontained, excepting the ancestral tablets, and the holy things whichmust never be sold, and the ihai of their buried daughter, which wereplaced, according to the custom of those about to leave their nativeplace, in the family temple. Now the family was of the Nichiren-Shu; andtheir temple was Myokoji.'They had been gone only four days when the young man who had beenbetrothed to their daughter returned to the city. He had attempted, withthe permission of his master, to fulfil his promise. But the provincesupon his way were full of war, and the roads and passes were guarded bytroops, and he had been long delayed by many difficulties. And when heheard of his misfortune he sickened for grief, and many days remainedwithout knowledge of anything, like one about to die.'But when he began to recover his strength, all the pain of memory cameback again; and he regretted that he had not died. Then he resolved tokill himself upon the grave of his betrothed; and, as soon as he wasable to go out unobserved, he took his sword and went to the cemeterywhere the girl was buried: it is a lonesome place--the cemetery ofMyokoji. There he found her tomb, and knelt before it, and prayed andwept, and whispered to her that which he was about to do. And suddenlyhe heard her voice cry to him: "Anata!" and felt her hand upon his hand;and he turned, and saw her kneeling beside him, smiling, and beautifulas he remembered her, only a little pale. Then his heart leaped so thathe could not speak for the wonder and the doubt and the joy of thatmoment. But she said: "Do not doubt: it is really I. I am not dead. Itwas all a mistake. I was buried, because my people thought me dead--buried too soon. And my own parents thought me dead, and went upon apilgrimage. Yet you see, I am not dead--not a ghost. It is I: do notdoubt it! And I have seen your heart, and that was worth all thewaiting, and the pain.. . But now let us go away at once to anothercity, so that people may not know this thing and trouble us; for allstill believe me dead."'And they went away, no one observing them. And they went even to thevillage of Minobu, which is in the province of Kai. For there is afamous temple of the Nichiren-Shu in that place; and the girl had said:"I know that in the course of their pilgrimage my parents will surelyvisit Minobu: so that if we dwell there, they will find us, and we shallbe all again together." And when they came to Minobu, she said: "Let usopen a little shop." And they opened a little food-shop, on the wide wayleading to the holy place; and there they sold cakes for children, andtoys, and food for pilgrims. For two years they so lived and prospered;and there was a son born to them.'Now when the child was a year and two months old, the parents of thewife came in the course of their pilgrimage to Minobu; and they stoppedat the little shop to buy food. And seeing their daughter's betrothed,they cried out and wept and asked questions. Then he made them enter,and bowed down before them, and astonished them, saying: "Truly as Ispeak it, your daughter is not dead; and she is my wife; and we have ason. And she is even now within the farther room, lying down with thechild. I pray you go in at once and gladden her, for her heart longs forthe moment of seeing you again."'So while he busied himself in making all things ready for theircomfort, they entered the inner, room very softly--the mother first.'They found the child asleep; but the mother they did not find. Sheseemed to have gone out for a little while only: her pillow was stillwarm. They waited long for her: then they began to seek her. But neverwas she seen again.'And they understood only when they found beneath the coverings whichhad covered the mother and child, something which they remembered havingleft years before in the temple of Myokoji--a little mortuary tablet,the ihai of their buried daughter.'==========='A long time ago, in the days when Fox-women and goblins haunted thisland, there came to the capital with her parents a samurai girl, sobeautiful that all men who saw her fell enamoured of her. And hundredsof young samurai desired and hoped to marry her, and made their desireknown to her parents. For it has ever been the custom in Japan thatmarriages should be arranged by parents. But there are exceptions to allcustoms, and the case of this maiden was such an exception. Her parentsdeclared that they intended to allow their daughter to choose her ownhusband, and that all who wished to win her would be free to woo her.'Many men of high rank and of great wealth were admitted to the house assuitors; and each one courted her as he best knew how--with gifts, andwith fair words, and with poems written in her honour, and with promisesof eternal love. And to each one she spoke sweetly and hopefully; butshe made strange conditions. For every suitor she obliged to bindhimself by his word of honour as a samurai to submit to a test of hislove for her, and never to divulge to living person what that test mightbe. And to this all agreed.'But even the most confident suitors suddenly ceased their importunitiesafter having been put to the test; and all of them appeared to have beengreatly terrified by something. Indeed, not a few even fled away fromthe city, and could not be persuaded by their friends to return. But noone ever so much as hinted why. Therefore it was whispered by those whoknew nothing of the mystery, that the beautiful girl must be either aFox-woman or a goblin.'Now, when all the wooers of high rank had abandoned their suit, therecame a samurai who had no wealth but his sword. He was a good man andtrue, and of pleasing presence; and the girl seemed to like him. But shemade him take the same pledge which the others had taken; and after hehad taken it, she told him to return upon a certain evening.'When that evening came, he was received at the house by none but thegirl herself. With her own hands she set before him the repast ofhospitality, and waited upon him, after which she told him that shewished him to go out with her at a late hour. To this he consentedgladly, and inquired to what place she desired to go. But she repliednothing to his question, and all at once became very silent, and strangein her manner. And after a while she retired from the apartment, leavinghim alone.'Only long after midnight she returned, robed all in white--like a Soul--and, without uttering a word, signed to him to follow her. Out of thehouse they hastened while all the city slept. It was what is called anoborozuki-yo--'moon-clouded night.' Always upon such a night, 'tis said,do ghosts wander. She swiftly led the way; and the dogs howled as sheflitted by; and she passed beyond the confines of the city to a place ofknolls shadowed by enormous trees, where an ancient cemetery was. Intoit she glided--a white shadow into blackness. He followed, wondering,his hand upon his sword. Then his eyes became accustomed to the gloom;and he saw.'By a new-made grave she paused and signed to him to wait. The tools ofthe grave-maker were still lying there. Seizing one, she began to digfuriously, with strange haste and strength. At last her spade smote acoffin-lid and made it boom: another moment and the fresh white wood ofthe kwan was bare. She tore off the lid, revealing a corpse within--thecorpse of a child. With goblin gestures she wrung an arm from the body,wrenched it in twain, and, squatting down, began to devour the upperhalf. Then, flinging to her lover the other half, she cried to him,"Eat, if thou lovest mel this is what I eat!" 'Not even for a singleinstant did he hesitate. He squatted down upon the other side of thegrave, and ate the half of the arm, and said, "Kekko degozarimasu! mosukoshi chodai." [3] For that arm was made of the best kwashi [4] thatSaikyo could produce.'Then the girl sprang to her feet with a burst of laughter, and cried:"You only, of all my brave suitors, did not run away! And I wanted ahusband: who could not fear. I will marry you; I can love you: you are aman!"'7) Yuki-onnaIn a village of Musashi Province (1), there lived two woodcutters:Mosaku and Minokichi. At the time of which I am speaking, Mosaku was anold man; and Minokichi, his apprentice, was a lad of eighteen years.Every day they went together to a forest situated about five miles fromtheir village. On the way to that forest there is a wide river tocross; and there is a ferry-boat. Several times a bridge was builtwhere the ferry is; but the bridge was each time carried away by aflood. No common bridge can resist the current there when the riverrises.Mosaku and Minokichi were on their way home, one very cold evening,when a great snowstorm overtook them. They reached the ferry; and theyfound that the boatman had gone away, leaving his boat on the otherside of the river. It was no day for swimming; and the woodcutters tookshelter in the ferryman's hut,--thinking themselves lucky to find anyshelter at all. There was no brazier in the hut, nor any place in whichto make a fire: it was only a two-mat [1] hut, with a single door, butno window. Mosaku and Minokichi fastened the door, and lay down torest, with their straw rain-coats over them. At first they did not feelvery cold; and they thought that the storm would soon be over.The old man almost immediately fell asleep; but the boy, Minokichi, layawake a long time, listening to the awful wind, and the continualslashing of the snow against the door. The river was roaring; and thehut swayed and creaked like a junk at sea. It was a terrible storm; andthe air was every moment becoming colder; and Minokichi shivered underhis rain-coat. But at last, in spite of the cold, he too fell asleep.He was awakened by a showering of snow in his face. The door of the huthad been forced open; and, by the snow-light (yuki-akari), he saw awoman in the room,--a woman all in white. She was bending above Mosaku,and blowing her breath upon him;--and her breath was like a brightwhite smoke. Almost in the same moment she turned to Minokichi, andstooped over him. He tried to cry out, but found that he could notutter any sound. The white woman bent down over him, lower and lower,until her face almost touched him; and he saw that she was verybeautiful,--though her eyes made him afraid. For a little time shecontinued to look at him;--then she smiled, and she whispered:--"Iintended to treat you like the other man. But I cannot help feelingsome pity for you,--because you are so young... You are a pretty boy,Minokichi; and I will not hurt you now. But, if you ever tellanybody--even your own mother--about what you have seen this night, Ishall know it; and then I will kill you... Remember what I say!"With these words, she turned from him, and passed through the doorway.Then he found himself able to move; and he sprang up, and looked out.But the woman was nowhere to be seen; and the snow was drivingfuriously into the hut. Minokichi closed the door, and secured it byfixing several billets of wood against it. He wondered if the wind hadblown it open;--he thought that he might have been only dreaming, andmight have mistaken the gleam of the snow-light in the doorway for thefigure of a white woman: but he could not be sure. He called to Mosaku,and was frightened because the old man did not answer. He put out hishand in the dark, and touched Mosaku's face, and found that it was ice!Mosaku was stark and dead...By dawn the storm was over; and when the ferryman returned to hisstation, a little after sunrise, he found Minokichi lying senselessbeside the frozen body of Mosaku. Minokichi was promptly cared for, andsoon came to himself; but he remained a long time ill from the effectsof the cold of that terrible night. He had been greatly frightened alsoby the old man's death; but he said nothing about the vision of thewoman in white. As soon as he got well again, he returned to hiscalling,--going alone every morning to the forest, and coming back atnightfall with his bundles of wood, which his mother helped him to sell.One evening, in the winter of the following year, as he was on his wayhome, he overtook a girl who happened to be traveling by the same road.She was a tall, slim girl, very good-looking; and she answeredMinokichi's greeting in a voice as pleasant to the ear as the voice ofa song-bird. Then he walked beside her; and they began to talk. Thegirl said that her name was O-Yuki [2]; that she had lately lost bothof her parents; and that she was going to Yedo (2), where she happenedto have some poor relations, who might help her to find a situation asa servant. Minokichi soon felt charmed by this strange girl; and themore that he looked at her, the handsomer she appeared to be. He askedher whether she was yet betrothed; and she answered, laughingly, thatshe was free. Then, in her turn, she asked Minokichi whether he wasmarried, or pledged to marry; and he told her that, although he had onlya widowed mother to support, the question of an "honorabledaughter-in-law" had not yet been considered, as he was very young...After these confidences, they walked on for a long while withoutspeaking; but, as the proverb declares, Ki ga areba, me mo kuchi hodoni mono wo iu: "When the wish is there, the eyes can say as much as themouth." By the time they reached the village, they had become very muchpleased with each other; and then Minokichi asked O-Yuki to rest awhileat his house. After some shy hesitation, she went there with him; andhis mother made her welcome, and prepared a warm meal for her. O-Yukibehaved so nicely that Minokichi's mother took a sudden fancy to her,and persuaded her to delay her journey to Yedo. And the natural end ofthe matter was that Yuki never went to Yedo at all. She remained in thehouse, as an "honorable daughter-in-law."O-Yuki proved a very good daughter-in-law. When Minokichi's mother cameto die,--some five years later,--her last words were words of affectionand praise for the wife of her son. And O-Yuki bore Minokichi tenchildren, boys and girls,--handsome children all of them, and very fairof skin.The country-folk thought O-Yuki a wonderful person, by nature differentfrom themselves. Most of the peasant-women age early; but O-Yuki, evenafter having become the mother of ten children, looked as young andfresh as on the day when she had first come to the village.One night, after the children had gone to sleep, O-Yuki was sewing bythe light of a paper lamp; and Minokichi, watching her, said:--"To see you sewing there, with the light on your face, makes me thinkof a strange thing that happened when I was a lad of eighteen. I thensaw somebody as beautiful and white as you are now--indeed, she wasvery like you."...Without lifting her eyes from her work, O-Yuki responded:--"Tell me about her... Where did you see her?"Then Minokichi told her about the terrible night in the ferryman'shut,--and about the White Woman that had stooped above him, smiling andwhispering,--and about the silent death of old Mosaku. And he said:--"Asleep or awake, that was the only time that I saw a being asbeautiful as you. Of course, she was not a human being; and I wasafraid of her,--very much afraid,--but she was so white!... Indeed, Ihave never been sure whether it was a dream that I saw, or the Woman ofthe Snow."...O-Yuki flung down her sewing, and arose, and bowed above Minokichiwhere he sat, and shrieked into his face:--"It was I--I--I! Yuki it was! And I told you then that I would killyou if you ever said one word about it!... But for those childrenasleep there, I would kill you this moment! And now you had better takevery, very good care of them; for if ever they have reason to complainof you, I will treat you as you deserve!"...Even as she screamed, her voice became thin, like a crying ofwind;--then she melted into a bright white mist that spired to theroof-beams, and shuddered away through the smoke-hold... Never againwas she seen.
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:墓の話(1)※引用資料,参考資料については,下方の「関連URI」にリンクがあります。 ※「PRINT」のアイコンをクリックするとこのメタデータ全体を印刷できます。【参考】の下に【資料】(当日配布資料の抜粋)があります。【参考】ラフカディオ・ハーンと俳句(1)持統天皇,『万葉集』巻2,159天皇、崩(かむあが)りましし時の大后(おほきさき)の御作歌一首やすみしし わご大君の 夕されば 見し給ふらし 明けくれば 問ひ給ふらしやすみしし わごおほきみの ゆふされば めしたまふらし あけくれば とひたまふらし神岳の 山の黄葉を 今日もかも 問ひ給はまし 明日もかも 見し賜はましかむおかの やまのもみちを けふもかも とひたまはまし あすもかも めしたまはましその山を 振り放け見つつ 夕されば あやに悲しび 明けくれば うらさび暮らしそのやまを ふりさけみつつ ゆふされば あやにかなしみ あけくれば うらさびくらし荒栲の 衣の袖は 干る時もなしあらたへの ころものそでは ふるときもなし(2)藤原道信朝臣,『拾遺和歌集』恒徳公の服ぶく脱ぎ侍るとて1293 限りあれば今日ぬぎすてつ藤衣はてなき物は涙なりけり(0678)*(3)『万葉集』(詠み人知らず)02-0150うつせみし 神に堪へねば 離れ居て 朝嘆く君 放り居て 我が恋ふる君 玉ならば 手に巻き持ちて 衣ならば 脱く時もなく 我が恋ふる 君ぞ昨夜の夜 夢に見えつる(4)平兼盛,『拾遺集』恋一・622しのぶれど 色に出でにけり わが恋(こひ)は ものや思ふと 人の問ふまで(40番)(5)待賢門院堀河,『千載集』恋三・802長からむ 心も知らず 黒髪の 乱れて今朝は ものをこそ思へ(80)(6)別所長治もろともに消え果つるこそうれしけれおくれ先立つならひ なる世に(7)(都都逸)とほくへだてて空うちながめ月が鏡になればよい(8)『金槐和歌集』,源実朝出テイナハ主ナキ宿ト成ヌトモ軒端ノ梅ヨ春ヲワスルナ(9)黒木弘安うす墨でかく玉章とみゆるかな くもるかすみに帰るかりがね(10)黒木弘安写真術は造物者の画にして「光輝」は其筆なり【資料】In Ghostly Japan by Lafcadio HearnAuthor: Lafcadio HearnBits of PoetryIAmong a people with whom poetry has been for centuries a universal fashion of emotional utterance, we should naturally suppose the common ideal of life to be a noble one. However poorly the upper classes of such a people might compare with those of other nations, we could scarcely doubt that its lower classes were morally and otherwise in advance of our own lower classes. And the Japanese actually present us with such a social phenomenon.Poetry in Japan is universal as the air. It is felt by everybody. It is read by everybody. It is composed by almost everybody,-- irrespective of class and condition. Nor is it thus ubiquitous in the mental atmosphere only: it is everywhere to be heard by the ear, and _seen by the eye_!As for audible poetry, wherever there is working there is singing. The toil of the fields and the labor of the streets are performed to the rhythm of chanted verse; and song would seem to be an expression of the life of the people in about the same sense that it is an expression of the life of cicadae.... As for visible poetry, it appears everywhere, written or graven,--in Chinese or in Japanese characters,--as a form of decoration. In thousands and thousands of dwellings, you might observe that the sliding- screens, separating rooms or closing alcoves, have Chinese or Japanese decorative texts upon them;--and these texts are poems. In houses of the better class there are usually a number of gaku, or suspended tablets to be seen,--each bearing, for all design, a beautifully written verse. But poems can be found upon almost any kind of domestic utensil,--for example upon braziers, iron kettles, vases, wooden trays, lacquer ware, porcelains, chopsticks of the finer sort,--even toothpicks! Poems are painted upon shop-signs, panels, screens, and fans. Poems are printed upon towels, draperies, curtains, kerchiefs, silk- linings, and women's crepe-silk underwear. Poems are stamped or worked upon letter-paper, envelopes, purses, mirror-cases, travelling-bags. Poems are inlaid upon enamelled ware, cut upon bronzes, graven upon metal pipes, embroidered upon tobacco- pouches. It were a hopeless effort to enumerate a tithe of the articles decorated with poetical texts. Probably my readers know of those social gatherings at which it is the custom to compose verses, and to suspend the compositions to blossoming frees,-- also of the Tanabata festival in honor of certain astral gods, when poems inscribed on strips of colored paper, and attached to thin bamboos, are to be seen even by the roadside,--all fluttering in the wind like so many tiny flags.... Perhaps you might find your way to some Japanese hamlet in which there are neither trees nor flowers, but never to any hamlet in which there is no visible poetry. You might wander,--as I have done,--into a settlement so poor that you could not obtain there, for love or money, even a cup of real tea; but I do not believe that you could discover a settlement in which there is nobody capable of making a poem.IIRecently while looking over a manuscript-collection of verses,-- mostly short poems of an emotional or descriptive character,--it occurred to me that a selection from them might serve to illustrate certain Japanese qualities of sentiment, as well as some little-known Japanese theories of artistic expression,--and I ventured forthwith, upon this essay. The poems, which had been collected for me by different persons at many different times and places, were chiefly of the kind written on particular occasions, and cast into forms more serried, if not also actually briefer, than anything in Western prosody. Probably few Of my readers are aware of two curious facts relating to this order of composition. Both facts are exemplified in the history and in the texts of my collection,--though I cannot hope, in my renderings, to reproduce the original effect, whether of imagery or of feeling.The first curious fact is that, from very ancient times, the writing of short poems has been practised in Japan even more as a moral duty than as a mere literary art. The old ethical teaching was somewhat like this:--"Are you very angry?--do not say anything unkind, but compose a poem. Is your best-beloved dead?-- do not yield to useless grief, but try to calm your mind by making a poem. Are you troubled because you are about to die, leaving so many things unfinished?--be brave, and write a poem on death! Whatever injustice or misfortune disturbs you, put aside your resentment or your sorrow as soon as possible, and write a few lines of sober and elegant verse for a moral exercise." Accordingly, in the old days, every form of trouble was encountered with a poem. Bereavement, separation, disaster called forth verses in lieu of plaints. The lady who preferred death to loss of honor, composed a poem before piercing her throat The samurai sentenced to die by his own hand, wrote a poem before performing hara-kiri. Even in this less romantic era of Meiji, young people resolved upon suicide are wont to compose some verses before quitting the world. Also it is still the good custom to write a poem in time of ill-fortune. I have frequently known poems to be written under the most trying circumstances of misery or suffering,--nay even upon a bed of death;-and if the verses did not display any extraordinary talent, they at least afforded extraordinary proof of self-mastery under pain.... Surely this fact of composition as ethical practice has larger interest than all the treatises ever written about the rules of Japanese prosody.The other curious fact is only a fact of aesthetic theory. The common art-principle of the class of poems under present consideration is identical with the common principle of Japanese pictorial illustration. By the use of a few chosen words the composer of a short poem endeavors to do exactly what the painter endeavors to do with a few strokes of the brush,--to evoke an image or a mood,--to revive a sensation or an emotion. And the accomplishment of this purpose,--by poet or by picture-maker,-- depends altogether upon capacity to suggest, and only to suggest. A Japanese artist would be condemned for attempting elaboration of detail in a sketch intended to recreate the memory of some landscape seen through the blue haze of a spring morning, or under the great blond light of an autumn after-noon. Not only would he be false to the traditions of his art: he would necessarily defeat his own end thereby. In the same way a poet would be condemned for attempting any completeness of utterance in a very short poem: his object should be only to stir imagination without satisfying it. So the term ittakkiri--meaning "all gone," or "entirely vanished," in the sense of "all told,"-- is contemptuously applied to verses in which the verse-maker has uttered his whole thought;--praise being reserved for compositions that leave in the mind the thrilling of a something unsaid. Like the single stroke of a temple-bell, the perfect short poem should set murmuring and undulating, in the mind of the hearer, many a ghostly aftertone of long duration.IIIBut for the same reason that Japanese short poems may be said to resemble. Japanese pictures, a full comprehension of them requires an intimate knowledge of the life which they reflect. And this is especially true of the emotional class of such poems,--a literal translation of which, in the majority of cases, would signify almost nothing to the Western mind. Here, for example, is a little verse, pathetic enough to Japanese comprehension:--ChochO ni!..Kyonen shishitaruTsuma koishi!Translated, this would appear to mean only,--"Two butterflies!... Last year my dear wife died!" Unless you happen to know the pretty Japanese symbolism of the butterfly in relation to happy marriage, and the old custom of sending with the wedding-gift a large pair of paper-butterflies (ocho-mecho), the verse might well seem to be less than commonplace. Or take this recent composition, by a University student, which has been praised by good judges:--Furusato niFubo ari--mushi noKoe-goe! (1)--"In my native place the old folks [or, my parents] are--clamor of insect-voices!"1 I must observe, however, that the praise was especially evokedby the use of the term koe-goe--(literally meaning "voice after voice" or a crying of many voices);--and the special value of the syllables here can be appreciated only by a Japanese poet.The poet here is a country-lad. In unfamiliar fields he listens to the great autumn chorus of insects; and the sound revives for him the memory of his far-off home and of his parents. But here is something incomparably more touching,--though in literal translation probably more obscure,--than either of the preceding specimens;--Mi ni shimiruKaze ya IShoji niYubi no ato!--"Oh, body-piercing wind!--that work of little fingers in the shoji!" (2).... What does this mean? It means the sorrowing of a mother for her dead child. Shoji is the name given to those light white-paper screens which in a Japanese house serve both as windows and doors, admitting plenty of light, but concealing, like frosted glass, the interior from outer observation, and excluding the wind. Infants delight to break these by poking their fingers through the soft paper: then the wind blows through the holes. In this case the wind blows very cold indeed,--into the mother's very heart;--for it comes through the little holes that were made by the fingers of her dead child.2 More literally:--"body-through-pierce wind--ah! --shoji in the traces of [viz.: holes made by] fingers!"The impossibility of preserving the inner quality of such poems in a literal rendering, will now be obvious. Whatever I attempt in this direction must of necessity be ittakkiri;--for the unspoken has to be expressed; and what the Japanese poet is able to say in seventeen or twenty-one syllables may need in English more than double that number of words. But perhaps this fact will lend additional interest to the following atoms of emotional expression:--A MOTHER'S REMEMBRANCESweet and clear in the night, the voice of a boy at study,Reading out of a book.... I also once had a boy!A MEMORY IN SPRINGShe, who, departing hence, left to the flowers of the plum-tree,Blooming beside our eaves, the charm of her youth and beauty,And maiden pureness of heart, to quicken their flush and fragrance,--Ah! where does she dwell to-day, our dear little vanished sister?FANCIES OF ANOTHER FAITH(1) I sought in the place of graves the tomb of my vanished friend:From ancient cedars above there rippled a wild doves cry.(2) Perhaps a freak of the wind-yet perhaps a sign of remembrance,--This fall of a single leaf on the water I pour for the dead.(3)I whispered a prayer at the grave: a butterfly rose and fluttered--Thy spirit, perhaps, dear friend!...IN A CEMETERY AT NIGHTThis light of the moon that plays on the water I pour for the dead,Differs nothing at all from the moonlight of other years.AFTER LONG ABSENCEThe garden that once I loved, and even the hedge of the garden,--All is changed and strange: the moonlight only is faithful;--The moon along remembers the charm of the time gone by!MOONLIGHT ON THE SEAO vapory moon of spring!--would that one plunge into oceanCould win me renewal of life as a part of thy light on the waters!AFTER FAREWELLWhither now should! look?--where is the place of parting?Boundaries all have vanished;--nothing tells of direction:Only the waste of sea under the shining moon!HAPPY POVERTYWafted into my room, the scent of the flowers of the plum-treeChanges my broken window into a source of delight.AUTUMN FANCIES(1) Faded the clover now;--sere and withered the grasses:What dreams the matsumushi(1) in the desolate autumn-fields?(2) Strangely sad, I thought, sounded the bell of evening;--Haply that tone proclaimed the night in which autumn dies!(3)Viewing this autumn-moon, I dream of my native villageUnder the same soft light,--and the shadows about my home.1 A musical cricket--calyptotryphus marmoratus.IN TIME OF GRIEF, HEARING A SEMI (CICADA)Only "I," "I,"--the cry of the foolish semi!Any one knows that the world is void as its cast-off shell.ON THE CAST-OFF SHELL OF A SEMIOnly the pitiful husk!... O poor singer of summer,Wherefore thus consume all thy body in song?SUBLIMITY OF INTELLECTUAL POWERThe mind that, undimmed, absorbs the foul and the pure together--Call it rather a sea one thousand fathoms deep!(2)2. This is quite novel in its way,--a product of the University:the original runs thus:--Nigoreru moSumeru mo tomo niIruru kosoChi-hiro no umi noKokoro nari-kere!SHINTO REVERYMad waves devour The rocks: I ask myself in the darkness,"Have I become a god?" Dim is The night and wild!"Have I become a god?"--that is to say, "Have I died?--am I only a ghost in this desolation?" The dead, becoming kami or gods, are thought to haunt wild solitudes by preference.IVThe poems above rendered are more than pictorial: they suggest something of emotion or sentiment. But there are thousands of pictorial poems that do not; and these would seem mere insipidities to a reader ignorant of their true purpose. When you learn that some exquisite text of gold means only, "Evening- sunlight on the wings of the water-fowl,"--or,"Now in my garden the flowers bloom, and the butterflies dance,"--then your first interest in decorative poetry is apt to wither away. Yet these little texts have a very real merit of their own, and an intimate relation to Japanese aesthetic feeling and experience. Like the pictures upon screens and fans and cups, they give pleasure by recalling impressions of nature, by reviving happy incidents of travel or pilgrimage, by evoking the memory of beautiful days. And when this plain fact is fully understood, the persistent attachment of modern Japanese poets--notwithstanding their University training--to the ancient poetical methods, will be found reasonable enough.I need offer only a very few specimens of the purely pictorial poetry. The following--mere thumb-nail sketches in verse--are of recent date.LONESOMENESSFuru-dera ya:Kane mono iwazu;Sakura chiru.--"Old temple: bell voiceless; cherry-flowers fall."MORNING AWAKENING AFTER A NIGHT'S REST IN A TEMPLEYamadera noShicho akeyuku:Taki no oto.--"In the mountain-temple the paper mosquito-curtain is lighted by the dawn: sound of water-fall."WINTER-SCENEYuki no mura;Niwatori naite;Ake shiroshi. "Snow-village;--cocks crowing;--white dawn."Let me conclude this gossip on poetry by citing from another group of verses--also pictorial, in a certain sense, but chiefly remarkable for ingenuity--two curiosities of impromptu. The first is old, and is attributed to the famous poetess Chiyo. Having been challenged to make a poem of seventeen syllables referring to a square, a triangle, and a circle, she is said to have immediately responded,--Kaya no te woHitotsu hazushite,Tsuki-mi kana!--"Detaching one corner of the mosquito-net, lo! I behold the moon!" The top of the mosquito-net, suspended by cords at each of its four corners, represents the square;--letting down the net at one corner converts the square into a triangle;--and the moon represents the circle.The other curiosity is a recent impromptu effort to portray, in one verse of seventeen syllables, the last degree of devil-may- care-poverty,--perhaps the brave misery of the wandering student;--and I very much doubt whether the effort could be improved upon:--NusundaruKagashi no kasa niAme kyu nari.--"Heavily pours the rain on the hat that I stole from the scarecrow!"III蝶々に去年死したる妻恋しふるさとに父母あり 虫の声々身にしみる風や障子に指のあと冬の夜や遠く聞こゆる咿唔(いご)の声うつり香を軒端の梅にとどめおきて きこゑし妹(いも)はいづちいにけん墓訪へば杉に鳩鳴く暮の秋風そよと墓石へ桐の一葉かなぬかづけば墓から蝶の舞ひあがる墓にそそぐ水やむかしの月の影廃園に月の昔を思ふかな海に入りて生れかはらばや朧月方角も知らぬ海なり春の月破れ窓もうれし梅が香風のまに萩枯れて松虫何を夢むらん秋行くと告ぐるにや鐘遠くよりふるさとの木の蔭おもふ秋の月世の中は蝉の抜殻何を泣く歌に身を枯らす愚かや蝉の殻濁れるも澄めるもともに容るるこそ千尋の海の心なりけれ怒濤岩を噛む我を神かと朧の夜IV古寺や鐘ものいはず桜散る山寺の紙帳開けゆく滝の音雪の村鶏鳴いて明け白し蚊帳の手を一つはづして月見かな盗んだる案山子の笠に雨急なり
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

中島淑恵(富山大学人文学部教授)が,これまでの研究成果を踏まえ,Lafcadio Hearn=ラフカディオ・ハーン=小泉八雲に関する様々を語るこれは,当日,会場でICレコーダを用いて収録したMP3形式の音声ファイル
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学人文学部
雑誌
富山大学人文学部紀要 (ISSN:03865975)
巻号頁・発行日
no.58, pp.183-210, 2013

エレーヌ・ド・ジュイレン・ド・ニーヴェルト(1863-1947,正式の名はHélène Betty Louise Caroline de Zuylen de Nyevelt de Haar)は,父方・母方ともにロスチャイルドの流れをくみ,1887年,24歳でエティエンヌ・ヴァン・ジュイレン・ヴァン・ニーヴェルト男爵のもとに嫁ぎ二児の母となるも,1901年以降ルネ・ヴィヴィアンと急速に親交を深め,社交界ではその豊満な容姿からブリオッシュの異名をとった貴婦人である。ヴィヴィアンとの関係は,慈愛に満ちた母のような愛情を注ぐ保護者であったとも,嫉妬に狂うサディスティックな束縛者であったともいわれているがヴィヴィアンの文筆活動がもっとも旺盛であった時期に寄り添い,その最期を看取った後に,かの女性詩人の墓にネオ・ゴシック様式の濡酒な霊廟を贈ったことでも知られている。ジュイレン自身もまたサッフォの園の住人であり,ヴィヴィアンの他ナタリー・クリフォード=パーネイらとも関係があったとされるが,大きな文学上の影響を相互に及ぼし合った相手としては,やはりヴィヴィアンのみがその文筆活動において重要な役割を果たしたことは明白である。1903年から1904年にかけて,ジュイレンはヴィヴィアンと共同の筆名であるポール・リヴェルスダール(Paule Riversdale)の名で,韻文詩集『愛の方へ』(Versl'amour, Maison des Poètes,1903)と『木魂と反映』(Èchos et reflets,Alphonse Lemerre,1903),中篇小説『二重の存在』(L'Être double,Alphonse Lemerre,1904)と掌篇小説集『根付』(Netsuké,Alphonse Lemerre,1904)を発表している。このうち,いずれも1904年に発表された『二重の存在』と『根付』について,日本の文化が様々なかたちで反映されている事実を筆者はこれまでに指摘してきたが,小論は,その延長線上にあるものと考えられるジュイレン自身の名で発表された作品において,日本なるものがどのような影響を及ぼしているかについて論考を試みるものである。
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

ハーンの生涯 【アメリカ時代 1869年~1890年】 1869年 イギリスまたはフランスからアメリカ・ニューヨークに到着 オハイオ州シンシナティへ 印刷屋の下働き,牧師の秘書などを務め,週刊誌などに投稿を始める 1874年 「シンシナティ・エンクワイアラー」紙の社員となる(75年に解雇) 1877年 ルイジアナ州ニューオリンズに移る 「アイテム」紙・「デモクラット」紙に寄稿 フランス文学の翻訳を試みる (ボードレール,ゴーティエ,フロベールなど) クレオール文化や文学に関心を抱く 1881年 「タイムズ・デモクラット」の文芸部長となる →蔵書300冊を超える 1885年12月16日 万国産業綿花百年記念博覧会見学 日本館の展示品に興味を惹かれる 服部一三,高峰譲吉と出会う ピエール・ロティと文通 1886年 仏領西インド諸島訪問。約2年間滞在 1889年 ニューヨークに戻る 1890年 日本行きを決意
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学人文学部
雑誌
富山大学人文学部紀要 (ISSN:03865975)
巻号頁・発行日
no.65, pp.203-219, 2016

ニューオリンズ時代のラフカディオ・ハーンが,フランスの詩人シャルル・ボードレールの影響を強く受けていたことは明白である。とりわけ,ボードレールが晩年に試みた散文詩,すなわち詩的散文という新たな形式は,ハーン独自の表現形式の獲得に大きな影響があったものと考えられる。もちろんこのことは単なる表現形式の問題にとどまらない。『悪の華』よりはむしろ『小散文詩集』で展開される,いわゆるボードレール的夢想が,ジャーナリストとして健筆をふるっていたニューオリンズ時代のハーンの詩的夢想の展開にも大きな影響を与えているものと考えられるからである。このことは,1879年から1884年までの間に『アイテム(Item)』紙や『タイムズ・デモクラット(Times Democrat)』紙に相次いで掲載され,ハーンの死後にハトソンによってまとめられた『気まぐれ草(Fantastics and other Fancies)』に収められたハーンの詩的散文の数々によって明らかになる。これらの詩的散文のどのような点がボードレール的であり,このことが後の,とりわけ来日後のハーンの創作にどのような影響を及ぼしているかについて考察することもまた興味深いものであろうが,小論ではその出発点となった,ハーンによるものと思われるボードレールの4つの散文詩の英訳について精査を行ない,後の論考に資するための基礎固めとしようとするものである。
著者
中島 淑恵
出版者
富山大学附属図書館

テーマ:幽霊の話※引用資料,参考資料については,下方の「関連URI」にリンクがあります。【資料1】===================================Glimpses of Unfamilar Japan: Second Series by Lafcadio HearnChapter Six, By the Japanese SeaNow, as a rule, one sleeps soundly after having drunk plenty of warmsake, especially if the night be cool and the bed very snug. But theguest, having slept but a very little while, was aroused by the sound ofvoices in his room--voices of children, always asking each other thesame questions:--'Ani-San samukaro?' 'Omae samukaro?' The presence ofchildren in his room might annoy the guest, but could not surprise him,for in these Japanese hotels there are no doors, but only paperedsliding screens between room and room. So it seemed to him that somechildren must have wandered into his apartment, by mistake, in the dark.He uttered some gentle rebuke. For a moment only there was silence; thena sweet, thin, plaintive voice queried, close to his ear, 'Ani-Sansamukaro?' (Elder Brother probably is cold?), and another sweet voicemade answer caressingly, 'Omae samukaro?' [Nay, thou probably art cold?]He arose and rekindled the candle in the andon, [6] and looked about theroom. There was no one. The shoji were all closed. He examined thecupboards; they were empty. Wondering, he lay down again, leaving thelight still burning; and immediately the voices spoke again,complainingly, close to his pillow:'Ani-San samukaro?''Omae samukaro?'Then, for the first time, he felt a chill creep over him, which was notthe chill of the night. Again and again he heard, and each time hebecame more afraid. For he knew that the voices were in the futon! Itwas the covering of the bed that cried out thus.He gathered hurriedly together the few articles belonging to him, and,descending the stairs, aroused the landlord and told what had passed.Then the host, much angered, made reply: 'That to make pleased thehonourable guest everything has been done, the truth is; but thehonourable guest too much august sake having drank, bad dreams hasseen.' Nevertheless the guest insisted upon paying at once that which heowed, and seeking lodging elsewhere.Next evening there came another guest who asked for a room for thenight. At a late hour the landlord was aroused by his lodger with thesame story. And this lodger, strange to say, had not taken any sake.Suspecting some envious plot to ruin his business, the landlord answeredpassionately: 'Thee to please all things honourably have been done:nevertheless, ill-omened and vexatious words thou utterest. And that myinn my means-of-livelihood is--that also thou knowest. Wherefore thatsuch things be spoken, right-there-is-none!' Then the guest, gettinginto a passion, loudly said things much more evil; and the two parted inhot anger.But after the guest was gone, the landlord, thinking all this verystrange, ascended to the empty room to examine the futon. And whilethere, he heard the voices, and he discovered that the guests had saidonly the truth. It was one covering--only one--which cried out. The restwere silent. He took the covering into his own room, and for theremainder of the night lay down beneath it. And the voices continueduntil the hour of dawn: 'Ani-San samukaro?' 'Omae samukaro?' So that hecould not sleep.But at break of day he rose up and went out to find the owner of thefuruteya at which the futon had been purchased. The dlealer knewnothing. He had bought the futon from a smaller shop, and the keeper ofthat shop had purchased it from a still poorer dealer dwelling in thefarthest suburb of the city. And the innkeeper went from one to theother, asking questions.Then at last it was found that the futon had belonged to a poor family,and had been bought from the landlord of a little house in which thefamily had lived, in the neighbourhood of the town. And the story of thefuton was this:--The rent of the little house was only sixty sen a month, but even thiswas a great deal for the poor folks to pay. The father could earn onlytwo or three yen a month, and the mother was ill and could not work; andthere were two children--a boy of six years and a boy of eight. And theywere strangers in Tottori.One winter's day the father sickened; and after a week of suffering hedied, and was buried. Then the long-sick mother followed him, and thechildren were left alone. They knew no one whom they could ask for aid;and in order to live they began to sell what there was to sell.That was not much: the clothes of the dead father and mother, and mostof their own; some quilts of cotton, and a few poor household utensils--hibachi, bowls, cups, and other trifles. Every day they sold something,until there was nothing left but one futon. And a day came when they hadnothing to eat; and the rent was not paid.The terrible Dai-kan had arrived, the season of greatest cold; and thesnow had drifted too high that day for them to wander far from thelittle house. So they could only lie down under their one futon, andshiver together, and compassionate each other in their own childish way--'Ani-San, samukaro?' 'Omae samukaro?'They had no fire, nor anything with which to make fire; and the darknesscame; and the icy wind screamed into the little house.They were afraid of the wind, but they were more afraid of the house-owner, who roused them roughly to demand his rent. He was a hard man,with an evil face. And finding there was none to pay him, he turned thechildren into the snow, and took their one futon away from them, andlocked up the house.They had but one thin blue kimono each, for all their other clothes hadbeen sold to buy food; and they had nowhere to go. There was a temple ofKwannon not far away, but the snow was too high for them to reach it. Sowhen the landlord was gone, they crept back behind the house. There thedrowsiness of cold fell upon them, and they slept, embracing each otherto keep warm. And while they slept, the gods covered them with a newfuton--ghostly-white and very beautiful. And they did not feel cold anymore. For many days they slept there; then somebody found them, and abed was made for them in the hakaba of the Temple of Kwannon-of-the-Thousand-Arms.And the innkeeper, having heard these things, gave the futon to thepriests of the temple, and caused the kyo to be recited for the littlesouls. And the futon ceased thereafter to speak.【資料2】===================================Glimpses of Unfamilar Japan: First Series by Lafcadio HearnChapter Nine, In the Cave of the Children's Ghosts, Sec. 6From the caves of the Kami we retrace our course for about a quarter ofa mile; then make directly for an immense perpendicular wrinkle in thelong line of black cliffs. Immediately before it a huge dark rock towersfrom the sea, whipped by the foam of breaking swells. Rounding it, weglide behind it into still water and shadow, the shadow of a monstrouscleft in the precipice of the coast. And suddenly, at an unsuspectedangle, the mouth of another cavern yawns before us; and in anothermoment our boat touches its threshold of stone with a little shock thatsends a long sonorous echo, like the sound of a temple drum, boomingthrough all the abysmal place. A single glance tells me whither we havecome. Far within the dusk I see the face of a Jizo, smiling in palestone, and before him, and all about him, a weird congregation of greyshapes without shape--a host of fantasticalities that strangely suggestthe wreck of a cemetery. From the sea the ribbed floor of the cavernslopes high through deepening shadows back to the black mouth ofa farther grotto; and all that slope is covered with hundreds andthousands of forms like shattered haka. But as the eyes grow accustomedto the gloaming it becomes manifest that these were never haka; theyare only little towers of stone and pebbles deftly piled up by long andpatient labour.'Shinda kodomo no shigoto,' my kurumaya murmurs with a compassionatesmile; 'all this is the work of the dead children.'And we disembark. By counsel, I take off my shoes and put on a pairof zori, or straw sandals provided for me, as the rock is extremelyslippery. The others land barefoot. But how to proceed soon becomes apuzzle: the countless stone-piles stand so close together that no spacefor the foot seems to be left between them.'Mada michiga arimasu!' the boatwoman announces, leading the way. Thereis a path.Following after her, we squeeze ourselves between the wall of the cavernon the right and some large rocks, and discover a very, very narrowpassage left open between the stone-towers. But we are warned to becareful for the sake of the little ghosts: if any of their work beoverturned, they will cry. So we move very cautiously and slowly acrossthe cave to a space bare of stone-heaps, where the rocky floor iscovered with a thin layer of sand, detritus of a crumbling ledge aboveit. And in that sand I see light prints of little feet, children's feet,tiny naked feet, only three or four inches long--the footprints of theinfant ghosts.Had we come earlier, the boatwoman says, we should have seen many more.For 'tis at night, when the soil of the cavern is moist with dews anddrippings from the roof, that They leave Their footprints upon it; butwhen the heat of the day comes, and the sand and the rocks dry up, theprints of the little feet vanish away.There are only three footprints visible, but these are singularlydistinct. One points toward the wall of the cavern; the others towardthe sea. Here and there, upon ledges or projections of the rock, allabout the cavern, tiny straw sandals--children's zori--are lying:offerings of pilgrims to the little ones, that their feet may not bewounded by the stones. But all the ghostly footprints are prints ofnaked feet.Then we advance, picking our way very, very carefully between thestone-towers, toward the mouth of the inner grotto, and reach the statueof Jizo before it. A seated Jizo carven in granite, holding in one handthe mystic jewel by virtue of which all wishes may be fulfilled; in theother his shakujo, or pilgrim's staff. Before him (strange condescensionof Shinto faith!) a little torii has been erected, and a pair of gohei!Evidently this gentle divinity has no enemies; at the feet of the loverof children's ghosts, both creeds unite in tender homage.I said feet. But this subterranean Jizo has only one foot. The carvenlotus on which he reposes has been fractured and broken: two greatpetals are missing; and the right foot, which must have rested upon oneof them, has been knocked off at the ankle. This, I learn upon inquiry,has been done by the waves. In times of great storm the billows rushinto the cavern like raging Oni, and sweep all the little stone towersinto shingle as they come, and dash the statues against the rocks.But always during the first still night after the tempest the work isreconstructed as before!Hotoke ga shimpai shite: naki-naki tsumi naoshi-masu.' They makemourning, the hotoke; weeping, they pile up the stones again, theyrebuild their towers of prayer.All about the black mouth of the inner grotto the bone-coloured rockbears some resemblance to a vast pair of yawning jaws. Downward fromthis sinister portal the cavern-floor slopes into a deeper and darkeraperture. And within it, as one's eyes become accustomed to the gloom, astill larger vision of stone towers is disclosed; and beyond them, in anook of the grotto, three other statues of Jizo smile, each one witha torii before it. Here I have the misfortune to upset first onestone-pile and then another, while trying to proceed. My kurumaya,almost simultaneously, ruins a third. To atone therefore, we must buildsix new towers, or double the number of those which we have cast down.And while we are thus busied, the boatwoman tells of two fishermen whoremained in the cavern through all one night, and heard the hummingof the viewless gathering, and sounds of speech, like the speech ofchildren murmuring in multitude.Only at night do the shadowy children come to build their littlestone-heaps at the feet of Jizo; and it is said that every night thestones are changed. When I ask why they do not work by day, when thereis none to see them, I am answered: 'O-Hi-San [2] might see them; thedead exceedingly fear the Lady-Sun.'To the question, 'Why do they come from the sea?' I can get nosatisfactory answer. But doubtless in the quaint imagination of thispeople, as also in that of many another, there lingers still theprimitive idea of some communication, mysterious and awful, between theworld of waters and the world of the dead. It is always over the sea,after the Feast of Souls, that the spirits pass murmuring back to theirdim realm, in those elfish little ships of straw which are launched forthem upon the sixteenth day of the seventh moon. Even when these arelaunched upon rivers, or when floating lanterns are set adrift uponlakes or canals to light the ghosts upon their way, or when a motherbereaved drops into some running stream one hundred little prints ofJizo for the sake of her lost darling, the vague idea behind the piousact is that all waters flow to the sea and the sea itself unto the'Nether-distant Land.'Some time, somewhere, this day will come back to me at night, withits visions and sounds: the dusky cavern, and its grey hosts of stoneclimbing back into darkness, and the faint prints of little naked feet,and the weirdly smiling images, and the broken syllables of the watersinward-borne, multiplied by husky echoings, blending into one vastghostly whispering, like the humming of the Sai-no-Kawara.And over the black-blue bay we glide to the rocky beach of Kaka-ura.【資料3-1】===================================On Poetry(帝国大学の講義録), pp. 124-128CHAPTER VIIIEPIGRAMMATIC POEMSTHE lecture last given in this class was of necessity a littleheavy. By way of change, I propose this term to give afew shorter and lighter lectures-the first of which will beupon the subject of epigrammatic poetry with especial referenceto correspondencies in English and Japanese poetry.Let us first take the word " epigrammatic " and consider itshistory. I need scarcely tell you that the word is Greek inorigin and signifies a " writing upon " - a surface especially.An epigram originally was a combination intended to be-inscribed upon a surface : -the original meaning was thereforean inscription. And the original inscription, in veryancient times w as probably of a funeral kind : we m ay supposethat the first compositions of the sort were inscriptionsupon tombstones- epitaphs.Any inscription intended for the surface of a monument,unless the monument should happen to be a very large one,would have to be of small size. It would be necessary tosay as much as possible in a very few words. Accordinglya great deal of art, literary art, would be required for effective work of this kind. The art of saying great things invery few words is the art of high poetry.Now we find that this was just how the old Greeksunderstood and practised the art of short poems intendedfor inscription upon tombstones or monuments or marblealtars of their gods. It was required for such work that thewriter should be able to bestir an emotion very deeply, or toutter a thought very profoundly, or to make a religiouspetition very beautifully,-all in the space of a few lines.Afterwards this art of short poetry was applied to a much124larger variety of subjects ; but it was still called by the ancientname. After the Greeks, the Romans took up this art, andwrote thousands of epigrams. But they never did quite sowell as t he Greeks ; and the most precious poetry of thiskind in the Western world still are the thousands of epigramsforming the bulk of what is called " The Greek Anthology "consistingof epitaphs, votive inscriptions (for altars andofferings to the gods), inscriptions for presents made tofriends, poems written in time of joy and sorrow, love poems,inscriptions probably used for the decoration of apartmentsor guest-chambers (much as Chinese texts are used in Japan),and a vast number of tiny gems of verse on a variety ofsubjects, ranging from jest to philosophy.From the list of subjects just given, you may be remindedof subjects to which the shorter forms of Japanese poetryare commonly devoted ; and the suggestion is worth remembering.In order to do full justice to Japanese poetry,-.in order to understand its real worth and rank in the rangeof world literature,- it is very much to be hoped that somebodywill sooner or later attempt a proper comparison ofJapanese and Greek verse. I do not think that Greek scholarshipis at all necessary for such an undertaking-though itwould be useful. " The Greek Anthology " has been veryextensively and very carefully translated into every Europeanlanguage of importance. Japanese scholars should be carefulto read not the metrical ones. Probably the German workis the best ; but there are very beautiful French studies andEnglish studies also on the subject.So much for the meaning of epigram. Epigrammaticpoetry, you see, is an ancient rather than a modern art ; andepigrammatic poetry of English literature, which is scanty,is not very old. But there is quite enough of it for our presentpurpose. Let us now speak about those forms of Japaneseverse which might be compared with the various formsof epigrammatic poetry in Western literature.You have the form called tanka, consisting of thirty-onesyllables, -suitable for serious subjects ; -you have the haikai,126 consisting of seventeen syllables-suitable to an immense varietyof subjects : -you have the dodoitsu, consisting of twenty-sixsyllables and usually devoted to love subjects. All these formsmay justly be called epigrammatic poetry ; and parallels forthem can be found in English literature, as well as in Greek.Remember that we need not trouble ourselves while makingthis comparison about the mere matter of form in detail.Whether the verse be measured, as in Greek, by quantity,or as in English, by accents, the form need not concern usat all except in regard to brevity. We may dismiss it as amere fashion of language from present consideration. Butthe spirit of the short poetry- the intellectual and emotionalrequirements of it-those we must consider, and we shallfind that they are the same, or nearly the same, in the Eastas well as in the West. You, much better than I, know therules about the sentiment to be expressed in the three formsof Japanese poetry which are really epigrammatic. I neednot therefore attempt to say much about them. But we shallfind that in English epigrammatic poetry, as in Japanese, itis the rule that the little verse should express or suggest asingle emotion or idea in a powerful or clever way. However,as I said before, Greek verse offers better material forcomparison. As ・ this is only a class of English literature,nevertheless, an attempt to lecture on Greek epigrams wouldbe quite out of place, and I shall make one comparison byway of illustration. The subj ect is an epitaph, composedprobably about 2500 years ・ago for the grave of a little boycalled Diodorus (Zonas of Sardis) : -" Do thou, who rawest the boat of the dead in the waterof this lake, full of reeds, for Hades, having a painful task,stretch out, dark Charon, thy hand to the son of Cinyras,as he mounts on the ladder by the gang-way, and receivehim. For his sandals will cause the lad to slip about ; andhe fears to put his feet naked on the sand of the shore. "There could not have been any relation between theGreek fancy of the time of that inscription, and the Japanesefancy of the eighth century. But some time between the years127700 and 750 the Japanese poet, Okura, made a verse aboutthe death of his little son Furuhi which is strangely like theGreek epigram. The form is tanka, and I suppose you allknow the original text, * which I have tried to render asfollows :-" So young he is that he cannot know the way. To themessenger of the Underworld I will give a bribe, and entreathim , saying : - ' Do thou kindly take the little one upon thyback along the road."This is the beautiful serious form of an epigram ; andmodern Western epigrams are best when they are serious.Considering these verses I shall begin a series of quotations,and those of you who love poetry will probably be able tofind in old Japanese poetry the parallel for every citation Iam able to offer.【資料3-2】===================================『万葉集』男子名は古日(ふるひ)を恋ふる歌三首 長一首、短二首 世の人の 貴み願ふ 七種(くさ)の 宝も吾は 何せむに 願ひ欲(ほり)せむ 我が中の 生れ出でたる 白玉の 我が子古日は 明星(あかぼし)の 明くる朝(あした)は 敷細(しきたへ)の 床の辺去らず 立てれども 居れども共に 掻き撫でて 言問ひ戯(たは)れ 夕星(ゆふづつ)の 夕べになれば いざ寝よと 手を携はり 父母も うへはな離(さか)り 三枝(さきくさ)の 中にを寝むと 愛(うるは)しく しが語らへば いつしかも 人と成り出でて 悪しけくも 吉けくも見むと 大船の 思ひ頼むに 思はぬに 横様(よこしま)風の にはかにも 覆ひ来たれば 為むすべの たどきを知らに 白妙の たすきを掛け 真澄鏡 手に取り持ちて 天つ神 仰(あふ)ぎ祈(こ)ひ祷(の)み 国つ神 伏して額づき かからずも かかりもよしゑ 天地の 神のまにまと 立ちあざり 我が祈ひ祷めど しましくも 吉けくはなしに 漸々(やうやう)に かたちつくほり 朝な朝(さ)な 言ふことやみ 玉きはる 命絶えぬれ 立ち躍り 足すり叫び 伏し仰ぎ 胸打ち嘆き 手に持たる 吾(あ)が子飛ばしつ 世間の道(904)反歌 若ければ道行き知らじ賄(まひ)はせむ下方(したへ)の使負ひて通らせ(905) 布施置きて吾は祈ひ祷む欺かず直(ただ)に率(ゐ)行きて天道知らしめ(906)【資料3-3】===================================ヘルン文庫:書架番号[933]Chamberlain, Basil Hall.The classical poetry of the Japanese / [B. H. Chamberlain] - London: Trübner, 1880. - xii,227 p.; 22 cm. - (Trübner's Oriental series)