The Tale Of Genji

At the start of the second chapter, Genji is 17. His father, the Emperor, officially made Genji a commoner as a child, in order to ensure his favorite son would have the success he could not have had as a low-ranking royal. By Chapter 2, Genji is now a captain in the Palace Guards.

During a rainy season of seclusion (monoimi, indoors to avoid evil influences), Genji is spending time with his brother-in-law and close friend To no Chujo, who is also a captain. While discussing their romantic exploits and letters from women, To no Chujo expounds on how hard it is to choose an ideal woman, and that high-born women are ultimately most disappointing than the more predictable, reliable women of middle-rank birth. However, despite Genji’s own low-ranking origins from Lady Kiritsubo, To no Chujo makes clear he would never even consider women of low birth-rank.

Two other men, Chief Left Equerry and the Fujiwara Aide of Ceremonial, arrive into the seclusion as well. As they join the conversation. Chief Left Equerry leads most of the discussion. He states how high-born status is not an intrinsic marker of an ideal wife, and that an undiscovered woman out of high society is more desirable. They go on to discuss general traits they prefer in a woman, such as: “A wife’s main duty is to look after her husband, so it seems to me that one can do quite well without her being too sensitive, ever so delicate about the least thing, and all too fond of being amused” (24).

They also discuss romantic struggles through much metaphor, such as a failing relationship drifting away like a boat. When To no Chujo glances over at Genji to see if Genji understands this is a relevant comparison to his unhappy marriage to Aoi (To no Chujo’s sister), Genji is already sleeping through the story. The men also compare romantic endeavors to the arts: a woodworker can create countless amusing pieces, but it only takes one masterful piece to set him apart from other woodworkers. It’s the same with an artist revealing their true talent through simpler scenes, and less-interesting handwriting can express true merit in personality. All these examples are meant to illustrate why a woman’s more overt shows of affection are not to be trusted, and that a woman with milder, steadier character is better.

After debating what overall characteristics in a woman are best, they move on to discuss specific old romantic affairs. Chief Left Equerry confesses a story he believes is somewhat “risqué,” as it acknowledges his refusal to change for a relationship, and refusal to acknowledge the pain he caused the young woman, which ultimately led to the young woman’s likely doom. In the story, they argue, because she says she will not receive him until he reforms some of his ways, and she eventually bites his finger, and he angrily departs. Yet he realized he has no home but hers, and upon returning, though she has left a robe for him, she is not there to reconcile. “I did still did not believe she would go,” says the Chief Left Equerry, “and to teach her a lesson I said nothing about wanting to change. Instead, I put on a show of headstrong independence. She was so hurt that she died. That taught me these things are no joke” (31).

The rest of the men continue discussing and joking about their own personal exploits, and even the Aide of Ceremonial gives his story of a woman who was smarter than he, and so he lost her. Eventually, though, they are somewhat in agreement that an ideal woman has no outstanding characteristics more than any other, so “the debate reached no conclusion” (40). Still, Genji leaves the discussion changed: he is increasingly convinced Fujitsubo represents the main ideals the men talked about that night, and he desires her even more.

Once seclusion ends, Genji returns to the house of his father-in-law and his wife, Aoi. Their marriage is not highly functional, as Aoi is frustrated with Genji’s already-flirtatious demeanor, and he is not comfortable with her because she is so restrained and intimidating in her perfection. As they go walking on the warm day, even Aoi’s maids sigh over Genji’s good looks.

As is customary, Genji spends the night elsewhere, at a governor’s house (Governor Kii), due to travel standards of the time. When he hears the servants misquoting poetry and gossiping about him, he is reminded how much lower in social status this household is than his own. Still, they are correct that he did send letters to Princess Asagao (his first cousin) along with some bluebells in them.

More importantly for Genji at the moment, he is intrigued by the young stepmother of the house, Utsusemi. She also seems to embody the middle-born ideals the men discussed earlier, but to Genji’s shock, she has no urge to be seduced by him. While she nor her servants cannot stop a man of his high rank from having her in his room, Utsusemi actively fightsoff Genji’s advances:

‘This is not to be believed!’She was indignant. ‘I may be insignificant, but even I could never mistake your contemptuous conduct toward me for anything more than a passing whim. You have your place in the world and I have mine, and we have nothing in common.’ (46).

Genji also acknowledges he is appalled by his own behavior, and begs to see her again. He eventually employs her younger brother to bring his messages to her, but he is not successful in wooing her.

The title of the chapter comes from the poetic reference they make to her as a “broom tree,” and in her last message she confirms this is a tree he will no longer be able to see (53). Utsusemi remains one of the only women in any of the text to effectively reject Genji.