The flowers have returned
To their roots, the birds
Are back in their old nests;
No one can tell
Where spring stays.
—Sutoku
Since the formation of the centralized Japanese state, the Emperor’s status was ambiguous. Theoretically, he possessed absolute political and religious power that rested on the indisputable authority
of his divine ancestry. In practice, however, the Emperor didn’t rule, the largest feudal clans did.
By the middle of the eighth century, the Fujiwara clan, which literally means “a field of wisterias,” and descendants of the priestly clan of Nakatomi, had almost complete power. During their reign the state grew rapidly. Younger clan members who were also related to the imperial family were appointed governors of the reconquered provinces in an effort to retain power. They became the Taira and Minamoto clans, who the Fujiwara called their “claws and fangs.”
The Fujiwara were very fond of China and emulated it. Adapting the values of the Chinese civilization to their own tastes, the Fujiwara created a magnificent culture based in the imperial capital Heian-kyō (now known as Kyoto) and enjoyed the finest luxuries.
Torii by T. Berg (print & painting) || All Artwork
The Imperial Court, the aristocrats’ little world, was very isolated and, as time went by, became more and more self-contained. It resembled an exclusive club restricted to artists, poets, musicians, historians, and writers – highly educated people inspired by refined aesthetics and a very distinct sense of beauty. The court led an active life of poetry tournaments, romantic flirtations, musical evenings, and philosophical conversations. While they were the ones who occupied the highest civil offices, they considered their service a formality and preferred entertainment. This perspective inevitably made culture blossom the way a peacock spreads its feathers. But the courtiers were just as solemn and pretentious as this bird which, despite its gorgeous plumage, can behave like a coddled, arrogant chicken that depends on admiring glances, good care, and high-grade feed.
Torii by T. Berg (print & painting) || All Artwork
The Fujiwara knew that the delights
of harem are harder to withstand than a thousand trials. They ruled from under the canopies of luxurious beds, and fate of this world rested in the soft hand of a woman. So the belligerent sword and the iron armor of man’s will started rusting while they lay somewhere in the desolate chambers of the past. The merry flow of life seemed to stop time. Even the horn of war and challenge fell silent. When the Palace of Fine Sceneries received news that a blood-stained samurai had been victorious or had been defeated, it seemed as if it was coming from a different, distant world. The response would be, “Ignorant men’s work is to fight and conquer new lands, but we must collect taxes, build parks, and set seals on new decrees and edicts. Doesn’t it make little sense to waste precious life on such trifles? Ah, but what charming music flows from the garden! What a radiant voice, what a view, what beauty beyond words.”
The ladies at court wrote novels and poems proclaiming their love to handsome princes who responded with equally exalted prose... read further in the book
This is part of a chapter from Samurai: Ascension by A. R. Berg