Worlding Sei Shônagon: The Pillow Book in Translation

Mamoru Watanabe (1952) German

123 Mamoru Watanabe Das Kopfkissenbuch der Hofdame Sei Shonagon Manesse Bibliothek der Weltliteratur Zürich: Manesse Verlag, 1952 This well-known German translation by Watanabe (1915– 1970) has been reissued many times and remains in print today . It contains approximately 135 passages, beginning with this one about the seasons, interspersed with numerous black-and-white illustrations. Watanabe, primarily known as a musicologist, had a long and extremely illustrious career. He graduated from Tokyo University’s School of Aesthetics in 1938 and from Vienna University in 1942. After teaching at both the Musashino Academia Musicae and Tokyo University (School of Literature ), Watanabe went on to become minister of the Japanese Embassy for West Germany and Director of the Japanisches Kulturinstitut in Köln. In the 1980s, he returned to Japan to teach at Osaka College of Music, but then moved to the United Kingdom in 1994. Watanabe also won numerous awards and accolades in Japan, Germany and Austria. In his introduction, the translator offers the following explanation for having produced merely an abridged trans- Mamoru Watanabe (1952) 124 lation of The Pillow Book: “Only those things and chapters that would be all too foreign and thus incomprehensible to the European reader have been left out” (22; my translation). Note how his reading of the haru wa akebono passage does not attempt to provide any parallelism in the first mention of each season, but rather that Watanabe handles each one in a slightly different way. He also reduces the counting of the crows to a plain “two or three.” German 125 Über die Jahreszeiten Im Frühling ist mir die Morgendämmerung am liebsten, wenn der dunkle Bergfluβ langsam sichtbar wird. Dort lagert , purpurviolett schimmernd, ein lang hingezogener Nebelstreif. Im Sommer lob ich mir die Nacht, und mich begeistert natürlich der helle Mond. Aber auch die Dunkelheit mag ich gern, wenn die Leuchtkäfer geheimnisvoll überall auftauchen. Sogar wenn es regnet, behält eine Sommernacht ihren Reiz. Im Herbst ist der Abend am schönsten, wenn die sinkende Sonne ihre rötlichen Strahlen ausschickt und sich langsam den Berggipfeln nähert. In dieser traurigschönen Stimmung sind sogar die Krähen lieblich anzusehen, die, zu zweit oder dritt vorüberfliegend, ihre Schlupfwinkel aufsuchen . Noch schöner sind natürlich die Wildgänse, die in langen Reihen fliegen und ganz klein erscheinen. Wenn die Sonne verschwunden ist und nur noch der Wind sein Lied singt und das Zirpen der Grillen zu hören ist, wird mir ganz wehmütig zumute. Im Winter mag ich die frühe Morgenstunde, besonders dann, wenn es schneit. Ich beobachte so gern die Diener , wie sie drauβen, im frostigen, weiβgestreiften Morgen, eilig Feuer anfachen und die Becken mit glühender Holzkohle in die Zimmer tragen. Das gehört zu den echt winterlichen Bildern des Palastes der Kaiserin. Aber wenn gegen Mittag die Kälte nachläβt, das Feuer ausgeht und nur noch weiβe Asche übrigbleibt, so finde ich diesen Anblick alles andere als erfreulich. (pp. 25–26) Mamoru Watanabe (1952) 126 The Seasons In spring it is the dawn I like most of all, when the dark mountain river slowly becomes visible. There lies, shimmering purple, a long strip of mist. In summer give me the night, and what arouses my enthusiasm most is of course the bright moon. But I also like the darkness, when the fireflies mysteriously appear everywhere. Even when it rains the summer night retains its charm. In autumn the evening is most beautiful, when the setting sun sends out its reddish rays and slowly approaches the mountain -tops. In this atmosphere of sad beauty even the crows look charming as they fly over in twos or threes looking for their hiding places. Even more beautiful of course are the wild geese that fly in long lines and look quite small. When the sun has disappeared and there is nothing to be heard but the song of the wind and the chirping of the crickets, I become quite melancholy. In winter I like the early morning, especially when it snows. I like observing the servants outside as, in the frosty white-striped morning, they hurriedly fan the fire and carry the pans of glowing charcoal into the rooms. That is one of the genuinely wintry scenes at the Empress’s palace. But when the cold relents towards midday, the fire goes out and only white ash remains, I...