Christopher L. Bennett

                                                                                                               World History 15-075-130

 

                                                         A BOY AND HIS TOYS:

                                     Gender Relationships in "The Tale of Genji"

 

 

The role of women in history is a subject which for the most part has only recently become of interest to the mainstream historical community.  Modern historians often bemoan the dearth of documented female viewpoints in the historical record.  But when such viewpoints are expressed, they do not always differ significantly from the male viewpoint toward gender roles in a given culture.  After all, men and women alike are raised with the assumptions of their cultures, and often accept those assumptions even to their own detriment.

This point is clearly demonstrated by the 11th-century Japanese novel The Tale of Genji, written by the noblewoman known as Murasaki Shikibu.  This novel presents a clear picture of the noble culture of Heian Japan to which the Lady Murasaki belonged, and most emphatically of the relations between the men and women of that culture.  The nature of these relationships becomes evident in the first two sentences:

 

"In a certain reign there was a lady not of the first rank whom the emperor loved more than any of the others.  The grand ladies with high ambitions thought her a presumptuous upstart, and lesser ladies were still more resentful." (p. 3)

 

In sum, a man of the noble class had numerous female lovers, and a woman's status was linked to the degree of amorous favor afforded to her by a man.


The text speaks of men's "love" for women, but it is made clear that women are judged primarily for their appearance.  When Genji's mother died, according to the text, "the emperor could not forget his lost love.  He summoned various women who might console him, but apparently it was too much to ask... for one who even resembled her" (p. 21).  The woman he finally takes as consort, Fujitsubo, is chosen because her "resemblance to the dead lady was indeed astonishing" (p. 22).  Genji himself feels ardor for her for precisely the same reason, as he also does toward Fujitsubo's niece Murasaki.  Upon seeing the child Murasaki, Genji, who finds Fujitsubo relatively inaccessible (see below), decides "the child must stand in the place of the one whom she so resembled" (p. 72).

It should be pointed out, though, that a predominant emphasis on aesthetic worth in judging individuals applied just as much to men as to women in this culture.  Throughout the tale, Genji is lauded by the author and others as "a jewel beyond compare" (p. 4), praised for his physical beauty and his skill in music, poetry, and so forth, and portrayed as so superhumanly splendid that he is dubbed "the Shining One" (Hikaru).  Clearly the Heian nobility placed supreme value upon physical beauty.

However, it is clear that men and women were not judged equally.  Women are praised for possessing "an extraordinarily gentle and quiet nature" (p. 41), and for being "simple and gentle... sympathetic and unassuming" (p. 8-9).  Genji praises "The Lady of the Evening Faces" as "delightfully childlike" (p. 48) and says that it is Murasaki's "childlike quality that delights me most and makes me think I must have her for my own" (p. 94).  Genji at one point spells out his preferences: "[A] woman who is quiet and withdrawn and follows the wishes of a man even to the point of letting herself be used has much the greater appeal" (p. 62-3).

And Genji certainly does not hesitate to act on this opinion.  Many of his seductions are clearly without the consent of the women involved.  "As for the affair at Rokujo," for instance, "he had overcome the lady's resistance and had his way, and, alas, he had cooled toward her" (p. 36).  In the case of the "Evening Faces" lady: "He came late at night when everyone was asleep.  She was frightened" (p.41), and unaware of his identity.  Later, he forces himself on Oborozukiyo:

 

"Who are you?"  She was frightened.

...Her surprise pleased him enormously.

Trembling, she called for help.


"It will do you no good.  I am always allowed my own way." (p. 37-8)

 

This tendency is most pronounced, however, toward Fujitsubo.  When she falls ill and leaves the emperor's court to return home, Genji seizes the opportunity -- apparently for the second time, although the first rape is unchronicled:

 

"It is sad to have to say that his earlier attentions, so unwelcome, no longer seemed real, and the mere thought that they had been successful was for Fujitsubo a torment.  ...she was shocked to find him in her presence again.  She did not seek to hide her distress, and her efforts to turn him away delighted him even as they put him to shame." (p. 86)

 

Years later, Genji manages the same trick again: "She was appalled, then, when one day he found a way to approach her....  The result was for her an unrelieved nightmare" (p. 202).  She falls ill as a result, and during her recuperation Genji makes yet another rape attempt (p. 204-5), yet this time Fujitsubo's pleadings finally get through to him and he stops short.

This pattern of Genji's behavior is manifested even in his nominally asexual relations with women.  Upon becoming smitten with Murasaki, after failing to convince her family to let him come live with her, he kidnaps her outright (p. 100 ff) and holds her prisoner in his home.  He perceives Murasaki as "the perfect companion, a toy for him to play with" (p. 106).  And several years later, in her early adolescence (and while he is still in mourning for his own wife), he marries her, and she is clearly given no say in the matter (p. 180-183).


Genji often claims to feel genuine and profound love for his many women.  But his words and actions paint a different picture.  After the death of the "Evening Faces" lady, Genji's grief is totally self-directed; he sees himself as "being punished for a guilty love" (p. 52).  After his wife's death, he is tempted by another woman, "but for the period of mourning had put away amorous thoughts.  It seemed most civilized of him" (p. 174).  This suggests his restraint in pursuing other women is due to a sense of social propriety than to grief.  (Note also that it did not deter him from forcing Murasaki to marry him.)  And after Fujitsubo repels his fourth rape attempt, Genji decides that "[s]he must be made to feel sorry for him" (p. 206), and wishes "to make Fujitsubo aware of her cruelty" (p. 207) (italics added).

Genji, in short, is the classic abusive male.  He professes undying love and devotion toward the women he desires; but if they in any way resist his wishes he forces himself upon them, and then blames them for bringing it upon themselves.  However, his culture perceives this behavior not as criminal, but merely as unseemly and embarrassing.  Furthermore, the women of this culture are classic facilitators, accepting his right to victimize them and continuing to adore him or at least sympathize with him no matter how dominating his behavior becomes.  This is the way women in this culture were evidently trained throughout their lives to think and behave; in essence, they were "domesticated," raised for total submission and acceptance of male domination.  Thus, a woman writing of such a man could praise him as a "Shining One" and perceive his sexual impositions as acts of romantic love.  Sadly, this is not an uncommon pattern in the history of human civilization.

 

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The Tale of Genji, translated and abridged by Edward G. Seidensticker.  New York: Random House, 1985

 

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