The Tale of Genji: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)

About the tale itself, what more can I say that hasn't been said? I find this to be a remarkable piece of literature, a carefully crafted and wonderfully told tale of the height of the Heian era, the elegant golden age of Japan where aristocrats correspond in poetry and romances are hatched from a glimpse of a sleeve or the twang of the biwa. Tied strongly to the context of the times--the norms, values, and sensibilities are uniquely Heian--this tale is in many ways influenced by the Japanese take on Buddhism, specifically the focus on the transience of all things, although the intense focus on aesthetics and worldly beauty seems rather un-Buddhist in many ways. Yet, the tale is universal as well in its broader themes; that it is still widely read and enjoyed a thousand years after its composition in many cultures outside of Japan is a testament to this fact. That said, it is not a tale for everyone. Its length, its distance culturally from the modern Western heritage, its leisurely and sometimes slightly plodding plot--these will put off many. And yet, for the interested, attentive reader, this book is an immensely enjoyable read and also window into a unique and beautiful time and place in human history. Regarding the translation, ultimately, all translations have their strengths and their weaknesses; all translators must make tradeoffs and decisions pretty much on a word-by-word basis on issues such as whether to maintain the letter of the text or the spirit of the text, when to remain truer to the source language and when to make concessions to the target language. As such, there is no such thing as a "best" translation, as this is ultimately a subjective decision. For this reason, I frequently agonize over which translation of a work to read, as which translation you read (especially the first time one encounters a work) will forever color your perceptions, emotions, and enjoyment relating to the work. In the case of the Tale of Genji, however, the choice was not agonizing for me. Even though I count certain translations that take freedoms with the original text as favorites (e.g. FitzGerald's version of Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat is a guilty pleasure of mine), Waley's remarkable liberties with the text were a non-starter for me. This might be a particular bias for me, for as someone who can understand Japanese, I can compare Murasaki's original with Waley's version and see the differences whereas for other languages I cannot understand, I can remain blissfully ignorant of the differences between the translation and the source material. Seidensticker is much more faithful to the substance of the original than Waley, but in terms of style, whereas Murasaki's writing tends to be rather flowing, elegant, poetic, and indirect, Seidensticker's prose is characterized by relatively short, choppy sentences and characterized by a directness that, while more appropriate for English, is a bit jarring for those who can read the original text. Although Seidensticker's translation could be seen as less "cluttered" by footnotes, without such notes the frequent allusions to other works (be they poetry, historical works, or other fictional accounts) that Murasaki makes--instantly identifiable to Murasaki's contemporaries--are lost on the modern reader. Seidensticker has his followers, but I personally do not find him enjoyable. In contrast, I found Tyler's translation to both remarkably faithful to the original and yet quite enjoyable in modern English. First of all, Tyler provides a thorough and interesting introduction to the work, which helps put the reader in the context in which it was written. Stylistically, Tyler's language matches the leisurely, flowing, and poetic style of Murasaki quite well. Consider that in the first three paragraphs of the text, the original contains 7 sentences. Tyler translates this in 6. Seidensticker uses a remarkable 15 sentences! Tyler is also much closer to the original in referring to most characters by their titles rather than by name. Even the person who is most commonly referred to by name, Genji, is called by a rather generic surname that is as much as or more reflective of his status in the nobility (the Minamoto "clan") rather than a "family name" in the modern sense of the word. This authenticity places demands on the reader that Seidensticker does not; for some this "burden" is more trouble than its worth (and to be honest, can make it difficult to get back into the book after an absence of any length), but personally in addition to this convention's faithfulness to the original I find this touch to create a level of intimacy that draws the reader into the novel, as an insider for whom names are no longer necessary. Tyler provides the titles and names used at each chapter start (as well as a brief introduction, which is frequently necessary because the chapters do not always flow chronologically) and occasionally provides footnotes where the title usage gets confusing (personally, there were a few places were I could have used more footnotes along those lines, but 98% of the time it is clear to the attentive reader who is being referred to). Just as in Seidensticker's translation, there are many beautiful illustrations. Versions of this tale have been illustrated in Japan almost as long as the novel has been around, so this adds not only a nice aesthetic touch in keeping with Heian sensibilities but also faithfulness to the tradition of the tale. Tyler pays considerable attention to the poetry in the tale, which is ridiculously difficult to translate due to the many layers of word play and allusion to other works of poetry and literature that simply cannot be captured in modern English. Somewhat regrettably, many of Tyler's clever turns of phrase (such as exploiting the remarkable similarity in dual meaning of the modern English "pine" and the Japanese "matsu") will likely be lost on many who are not familiar with the Japanese language, but they are enjoyable for those who do understand what Tyler is up to (and can be enjoyed anyway by those who do not). Almost all poems have footnotes with additional information about the style, substance, and allusions present in the original poem. In the end, Tyler's faithfulness to both the style and substance of Murasaki's original places demands on the reader; not all will enjoy the expectations he places on the reader with respect to such issues as titles versus names. As always with translations, kick the tires on a couple of options and find what works for you. However, for me personally, it is this faithfulness to an incredibly gifted writer and a lyrical and poetic tale that makes Tyler the translation of choice for me.

If you are like me, you’re not here for book reviews. You’re here because you want to know about the format of the book and the translation and the shape the book comes in if it was purchased new or used. That’s why I’m writing this. Through Amazon Marketplace I found this used book rated at “Good” from beedees books. This came more as a “like new” or “very good”. On the description beedees lists the details of the condition of the book and not a passive advertisement of their website. The fact they took time to write out the condition of this book meant they care enough to send a great copy to their buyer. Those other sites don’t always send you what you think you bought. Usually they do and I’ve had excellent results but there have been a couple dudders. But I have to say that this was an EXCELLENT purchase. I saved $10, I rec’d a truly gorgeous book in the translation most highly recommended (Royall Tyler) and it took all of 3 days. I cannot tell you anything about the book other than it came highly recommended and we are going to read it in our book club. And I’d also recommend HPB (Emerald Diamond - etc all great) at Amazon Mktplace if you can’t find the edition or translation or publisher of the book you are looking for on Amazon itself. I am THRILLED with this book. And lastly, I thought I’d try to stay away from beveled edges because of other reviews but that’s ridiculous. They’re beautiful and not annoying to me like I thought they’d be. Go for the best translation and you’ll forget about the beveled edges (and yes to those who’ve said it was cut wrongly- it is on purpose. It’s to give the feel of older books). Happy Shopping New Year!

came in great condition.

The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu, in an impressive translation by Royall Tyler, is a classic of world literature. The tale from eleventh century Japan recreates (in over eleven hundred pages) a time and a region long lost, distant from memory and everyday life, and yet full of timeless and contemporary human passions and feelings. Before talking about the tale itself, we must commend the translator for imbibing prose and poetry within text with a clarity and a fluidity rare in translations. The elegant, lucid and engaging English translation provides ample footnotes to guide readers unfamiliar with names, places, idioms, customs, laws, culture and court life of the eleventh century Japan. While reading a massive novel from another language, written in another century, we always worry about how much is left untranslated or is not communicated at all. Most translations from Indian languages into English give me a massive heartburn. Here the original is far beyond my reach, and I admire the quality of both the text and translation. Maybe I know it is best to gain what I can by reading the translation, than not read it at all. Perhaps the whole process of reading The Tale of Genji for me resembles a typical passionate communication between a suitor and a beloved described over and over again in the book. Two bodies sit separated by many blinds and customs; the conversation is carried on through calligraphed messages and through intermediaries. When one puts his or her heart into it, this conversation, however indirect, provides relief, knowledge, insight, understanding, pleasure and peace, exactly as the the Tale of Genji manages to do for me, possibly for any reader. The Tale of Genji is a magnificent work of art, full of romances and songs, music and poetry, and yin and yang. It is a highly readable saga of princes and commoners who rise in regard and rank through their own actions and through influence of whoever holds them dear. The talks and deeds related to renunciation of the world and Buddhist penances are interspersed with a narrative where characters display a strong attachment to the world stemming from their family ties & cares and beloveds. Genji, called the Shining Prince for his exceptional beauty and charm, is a son of the emperor. His life is the centerpiece of the tale, and the narrative is primarily built around his trials and triumphs in politics, love and religion. The list of romances described in the book runs long, and on every page, appears a phrase or a verse, often a line or a couplet, mostly inspired by some famous poem seemingly known to one and all, written as part of banter between lovers, or as complaint or praise by suitors. Several different string instruments (biwa, kin, etc) and flute are held in great regard, and exceptional musical ability is admired and encourages in princes, women and nobles. Painting, dance, calligraphy, poetry and dress-making are all integral to the tale. There are no wars, no duels, there is almost no blood-shed, and there are no peasants, few commoners, no armies. The Tale of Genji has many memorable, moving and majestic sentences and passages on or about: the vagaries of weather, the charms & effects of changing seasons, festivals full of regal splendor, pilgrimages, impromptu or planned concerts and performances, monks and monasteries, births and deaths, dresses and fragrances, gifts and messages, the meanings and resonances of symbols like cherry blossoms, pine trees, acorn, bridges, rivers, mountains and wisteria leaves, admiration for Chinese tales and dresses, silks, and so on. Some of the most striking things in The Tale of Genji for me are about the role of women in family and society. Women are secluded and hardly meet any men, they are seen only by their lovers (ideally their husbands), while the princes and the nobles grab every chance to go after anyone they get even a faint whiff or glimpse of. Often a prince appears in the bed of a woman without warning, (usually with the help from trusted associates/ helpers/ nurses of the woman) and by returning back on the next two nights, makes the chosen (fortunate or unfortunate) woman his bride. Finding good husbands for daughters is a big concern for fathers, and the progress in rank at court requires strong support of a wife's family. There are a few positions at court available only to women, and multiple wives who surround the powerful princes vie for his attention. Perhaps I note how women lived behind blinds and curtains, away from eyes of any men, including their close relatives, as it is often assumed that such practices exist or existed only in the Near-Eastern, South Asian or in the Middle-Eastern cultures. Also by reading the tale you discover how committed the Japanese men were (maybe still are) to the so-called gallantry. The men go shooting-off love poems to anyone they take a fancy to, including wives of others (including close relations), and when courtship fails, they sometimes end up taking them by force. Given how men behave, the need to seclude and protect the women seems to be justified. A lot of action in the novel happens at night, behind closed doors, in forbidden chambers, and the author often leaves off a description by saying the details did not reach her, or the details or verses spoken were trite enough to be left out. Such remarks however never break the narrative. Another striking thing in the Tale of Genji is the mention of spirits who take hold of other peoples bodies (minds), afflicting them, and how Buddhists priests drive such spirits out with prayer and chants, after making them to confess their whims. I grew up seeing such things in the Himalayan villages and towns, and a mention of every appellation and rites like that in the book drew my attention. In the world literature written between eighth to fourteenth century AD, a few other exceptional books come to my mind. The Conference of Birds by Attar is a Persian classic, a sufi composition, full of fables and instruction, is very inspirational and to my eyes, it is also sensational in how sexuality is described therein. Geet-Govinda by Jayadeva in Sanskrit is probably the most important text among many that are counted in Radha-Krishan romance, Krishan-bhakti or God-as-a-beloved tradition. Decameron by Boccaccio in Italian has a string of tales, and some are quite risque, and yet many have moral connotations as well. After reading The Tale of Genji, and thinking about all the classic medieval texts I have read, I conclude that though our ancestors were quite given to romance, there was always a stream of spiritual aspirations within them. Perhaps we have become more hypocritical and prudish than our ancestors when it comes to sexuality, and at the same time, we have become more withdrawn from religion and spirituality. The classics mentioned here, along with The Tale of Genji, in respective cultures have influence every writer and poet who came after them, and thus these continue to influence the corpus of human thought, feeling, morality and memory. The Tale of Genji, like War of Peace, Mahabharata, Shahnameh or Odyssey, is endless and immortal. Murasaki paints a masterpiece with a wide canvass that continues the stories through multiple generations, including hundreds of characters, developed quite remarkably within this story, portrayed with beauty and grace. The author named Genji's most beloved Murasaki. Though Genji and Murasaki attract our deepest interest and sympathies, the book is like a garden with many characters, each prone to seasonal changes in favor and form, and though all trees have their own stories of spring blossoms and autumn leaves, and snow or rain drops or dew, the narrative binds them together quite nicely. Murasaki seemed to have written the tale with a lot of empathy for human condition. To love who must not be loved, to carry guilt of yielding to a forbidden desire, to raise another's child as your own, to love a lookalike sister or a cousin in lieu of the lost or dead beloved, to leave safety of palace and guards and go out on escapades that can destroy reputations, to steal your best friend's love interest, to become a monk and yet keep worrying about renounced relations, or to haunt your beloved after your death: there are many dark shades to the characters and their thoughts and actions in this tale. The characters often talk of cherry & plum blossoms, of fleeting life, of nature of beauty and romance, of poetry and skill, of music, and wile reading The Tale of Genji, the reader begins to respond to the thoughts and words of the ancient world. Reading The Tale of Genji then becomes an experience rich in mixed emotions, of tenderness, joy, sympathy, melancholy, sorrow, nostalgia and enchantment. Wonderful and overwhelming tale, highly recommended!

Beautiful edition, certainly one worthy of being displayed, though it's a gem of a read as well. Having read the Waley translation of the Tale of Genji, I've come to appreciate Tyler's translation which is less flowery and includes footnotes that will clarify much of what you read if you're not well-versed in premodern (specifically Heian period) history as well as classical Japanese and Chinese poetry- indeed, the poems in the story speak of how well-read and erudite the Heian aristocracy were, and with a sly wit as well. The cover and text illustrations add a visceral element to the reading experience. As a great admirer of 'The Tale of Genji' I find reading a translation alongside a visual companion book of the story immensely helpful in visualizing culture as it was in Heian Japan- something very challenging as someone living in the West who can visualize, say, the Victorian and Twenties eras far better than the Heian and Tokugawa eras. I hope to see more on Japanese history published in English in the future. The uncut pages (which are not absurdly thin) like Bible pages make the physical book itself a work of art. How fitting, then, that the story takes place in a time where aesthetic sensibility and refinement occupied enormously the lives of the Heian aristocracy. If anything, I wish they're re-publish the hardcover edition, given how absurdly priced it is on the market these days. Unfortunately, as to Amazon's delivery a corner of the book was dented, which is a huge pity.

Was quite worried about the print size, but all turned out well. While there are several complaints about the bevelled edges, this is a stylistic feature chosen by the publisher. You can see from the photos that the top and bottom edges are well aligned. Very happy with the product!

I started this book and it was quite hard going and it just kept going. All the references to characters through titles and the really confusing manner of describing plots where very little happens used to mean me jumping around to figure out who was talking and what on earth they were discussing. I promised myself when I reached the middle I would take a break and read another book, that this wasn't for me and the tale of genji was one of those classics I just couldn't understand. However, when I pushed myself and reached the middle I didn't want to stop. I kept going and actually started looking forward to reading it. The beauty of the poetry, the long drawn out scenes, the will she/he won't she/he. I found myself reading for hours at a time and when I finished it I actually wanted to start it again! This is an incredible book but almost like the world it describes it needs patience and persistence and then you are rewarded with feelings and scenes of beauty which are like no other. Enjoy!

It's the most academically accurate translation of The Tale of Genji. Royall Tyler's version has the character information in the beginning of each chapter and additional materials in the end (glossary, official titles, chronology etc.) which I find very useful. I bought a second copy since I filled my first copy with many notes and highlights. Although paperbacks are not always good for huge books but this one is quite sturdy. The book arrived in perfect condition. Well, it's my favorite companion for sure.

Classic novel that deserves a read to understand the Japanese concept of "mono no aware". Written 1,000 yrs. ago, and still relevant.