Dear Haijin, visitors and travelers,
Last night we had a very clear night and I could gaze at the Harvest Moon for a long time, it was hypnotizing and I dreamed away to ancient Japan, the land of the rising sun, but also of the Nowaki (windstorm or field dividing wind, typhoon) and wandered through this ancient Japan as a companion of Basho on his way to the Deep North. It was awesome. Basho and I took shelter for a strong field dividing wind in an old barn and wrote a Renga together ... for a little while I was in the shadow of the master. As clouds covered the harvest moon I came back on my feet and shook my head. "It was just a dream", I thought.
Today we share haiku on Nowaki. Nowaki or field-dividing wind is a kind of wind that occurs on a regular base between the 210th and 220th day after the starting of spring (Risshuu). It's a typhoon-like strong autumn gale, but only the wind and not the rain (as with a typhoon).
People living in the rice fields of Western Japan, have seen this "parting of the fields" quite often after the autumn typhoons. It hurts them to see the ripe ears of rice hang down on the ground to the right and left of a swath of flattened stems.
Nowaki is also a short Japanese novel by Natsume Sōseki (1867-1916). Written in 1907, the novel was published in the magazine Hototogisu (the magazine founded by Shiki) in January. The year 1907 was a turning point in the author’s life when he left his Tokyo University teaching position to write full-time for the daily Asahi Shimbun (a Japanese newspaper).
Nowaki is
about three men, all of whom are writers. Two of the younger men, the
tubercular Takayanagi and the dandy Nakano, were close in their student days,
and are now recent university graduates making their way in the world. The
older man of the three is known as Dōya-sensei (Master Dōya), once a teacher in
the provinces who was forced to leave his post by villagers and students
angered over his disrespectful attitude toward wealth and authority, now
pursuing in Tokyo a career as editor and writer, barely eking out a livelihood,
much to his wife’s consternation. Magazine editor by day, he longs to finish
and publish his more serious writing, "Essay on Character." By sheer
coincidence, the three lives come together over the sum of one hundred yen
(about a month’s salary at the time): Nakano’s gift to Takayanagi to convalesce
at a seaside hot springs, Dōya-sensei’s debts which are paid off with the
purchase of his manuscript, and Takayangi’s act of self-sacrifice and
redemption.
In the "Tale of Genji" in chapter 28 a Nowaki occurs. This chapter is called "The Typhoon" and I love to share a piece of that chapter here with you.
[...] “An irritable,
impatient sort of wind,” he said. “You must close your shutters. There are men
about and you are very visible.”
Yūgiri looked back.
Smiling at Murasaki, Genji was so young and handsome that Yūgiri found it hard
to believe he was looking at his own father. Murasaki too was at her best.
Nowhere could there be a nearer approach to perfection than the two of them,
thought Yūgiri, with a stabbing thrill of pleasure. The wind had blown open the
shutters along the gallery to make him feel rather exposed. He withdrew. Then,
going up to the veranda, he coughed as if to announce that he had just arrived.
“See,” said Genji,
pointing to the open door. “You have been quite naked.”
Nothing of the sort
had been permitted through all the years. Winds can move boulders and they had
reduced the careful order to disarray, and so permitted the remarkable pleasure
that had just been Yūgiri’s.
Some men had come
up to see what repairs were needed. “We are in for a real storm,” they said.
“It’s blowing from the northeast and you aren’t getting the worst of it here.
The stables and the angling pavilion could blow away any minute.”
“And where are you
on your way from?” Genji asked Yūgiri.
“I was at
Grandmother’s, but with all the talk of the storm I was worried about you. But
they’re worse off at Sanjō than you are here. The roar of the wind had
Grandmother trembling like a child. I think perhaps if you don’t mind I’ll go
back.”
“Do, please. It
doesn’t seem fair that people should be more childish as they get older, but it
is what we all have to look forward to.”
He gave his son a
message for the old lady: “It is a frightful storm, but I am sure that Yūgiri
is taking good care of you.”
Though the winds
were fierce all the way to Sanjō, Yūgiri’s sense of duty prevailed. He looked
in on his father and his grandmother every day except when the court was in
retreat. His route, even when public affairs and festivals were keeping him
very busy, was from his own rooms to his father’s and so to Sanjō and the
palace. Today he was even more dutiful, hurrying around under black skies as if
trying to keep ahead of the wind.
His grandmother was
delighted. “In all my long years I don’t think I have ever seen a worse storm.”
She was trembling violently.
Great branches were
rent from trees with terrifying explosions. Tiles were flying through the air
in such numbers that the roofs must at any moment be stripped bare.
“It was very brave
of you.”
Yūgiri had been her
chief comfort since her husband’s death. Little was left for her of his glory.
Though one could not have said that the world had forgotten her, it does change
and move on. She felt closer to Yūgiri than to her son, Tō no Chūjō.
Yūgiri was jumpy
and fretful as he sat listening to the howl of the wind. That glimpse of
Murasaki had driven away the image that was so much with him. He tried to think
of other things. This would not do, indeed it was rather terrible. But the same
image was back again a moment after he had driven it away. There could have
been few examples in the past of such beauty, nor were there likely to be many
in the future. He thought of the lady of the orange blossoms. It was sad for
her, but comparison was not possible. How admirable it had been of Genji not to
discard so ill-favored a lady! Yūgiri was a very staid and sober young man who
did not permit himself wanton thoughts, but he went on thinking wistfully of
the years it would add to a man’s life to be with such beauty day and night.
The storm quieted
toward dawn, though there were still intermittent showers. Reports came that
several of the outbuildings at Rokujō had collapsed. Yūgiri was worried about
the lady of the orange blossoms. The Rokujō grounds were vast and the buildings
grand, and Genji’s southeast quarter would without question have been well
guarded. Less well guarded, the lady of the orange blossoms must have had a
perilous time in her northeast quarter. He set off for Rokujō before it was yet
full daylight. The wind was still strong enough to drive a chilly rain through
the carriage openings. Under unsettled skies, he felt very unsettled himself,
as if his spirit had flown off with the winds. Another source of disquiet had
been added to what had seemed sufficient disquiet already, and it was of a
strange and terrible kind, pointing the way to insanity. [...]
 |
| Nowaki drawing from the "Tale of Genji" |
What an awesome story this is and a joy to read it. I wonder ... maybe after our column-series about Oku no Hosomichi I can do a column series about the "Tale of Genji". I will keep that idea in my thoughts.
field dividing wind
ruins the grain harvest -
ruins the grain harvest -
no bread today
coming from the west
dark clouds pack together
first autumn storm
coming from the west
dark clouds pack together
first autumn storm
first autumn storm
colorful leaves dancing through the street
branches broken
colorful leaves dancing through the street
branches broken
branches broken
big trees unrooted and thrown away -
a strong western wind
big trees unrooted and thrown away -
a strong western wind
Not such a strong set of haiku, but the intense feeling of Nowaki makes it all better. I like those strong autumn winds and I hope you do to. Have fun, be inspired and share your haiku on Nowaki with us.
This prompt will stay on 'till September 21th 11.59 AM (CET) and I will post our next Special episode, a haiku by our featured haiku poet O. Mabson Southard, later on today around 7.00 PM (CET).
!! Nowaki is open for your submissions at 7.00 PM (CET) !!
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