Fujiwara no Toshiyuki

Here we are with the ninth poet of the set, Fujiwara no Toshiyuki. He is one of the more famous members of the Hyakunin Isshu, being well known for his contributions to many Imperial poetry anthologies as well as for his calligraphy, and is also a member of the 36 Famous Poets.

I'm not quite sure what to think about this pose! Although I suppose it is intended to reflect the generally sad and wistful nature of the poem, it does seem rather a bit much (I expect his hat to fall off any moment!).

When you first opened the package this month and looked at the folder that contains the print, did you notice the mistake in the lettering? This poet's name is 'Toshiyuki', and Shunsho wrote the Chinese characters in the name correctly, but when he came to fill in the 'furigana', the smaller script that shows how those characters should be pronounced, he slipped up and wrote 'Shigeyuki' in error. Many of the poets' names are quite similar, and he was probably confusing this poet with Minamoto Shigeyuki, another member of the Hyakunin Isshu.

This is not the only mistake Shunsho made in the calligraphy in this series. In the print of 'Udaisho Michitsuna no Haha' (which I sent you a few years ago), he added an entire unnecessary character to the name, making it 'Ukondaisho Michitsuna ...' Here he was obviously confusing her with the poetess 'Ukon'.

Now of course, I'm neither surprised nor bothered by these two mistakes. These poets' names are indeed very complicated, and it is easy to get confused. What does interest me is how these errors could make it all the way into the finished book. Shunsho's finished drawings were first worked over and turned into a 'hanshita' (a tracing) by somebody in the publisher's shop, and this was then carved line by line by a woodcarver. Both of these men obviously had to inspect very closely the work in front of them. Did neither of them notice the errors?

The easiest explanation for this is simply the one that we generally don't notice minor errors in written material - we just accept it, assuming that the person responsible knows what he is doing. I know from my own experience with these little monthly stories and my newsletter, that it is incredibly difficult to spot errors in text.

But I think it goes deeper than this - I think that when Inoue-san (the man who carved the original book) was doing his work he did so in a completely 'mindless' way. He probably didn't even read the characters he was carving. If we had tapped him on the shoulder at any point and asked him to tell us which poem he was carving, he would have shrugged his shoulders and said 'How should I know? I'm only carving it!'

For Inoue-san worked in a way that I am unable to do - he kept all the unnecessary 'junk' out of his mind. He was a carver - and it was his job simply to carve. Was this a well-drawn pose? Did he 'like' this design? What were suitable colours for this kimono? What did this poem mean? What silly questions! Inoue-san's job was just to carve beautiful lines. Leave the thinking to somebody else. Just carve beautiful lines - one ... by one ... by one ...

I am quite sure that he never noticed these mistakes. If he had, it would have been a moment's work to fix them (rectifying the mistake in 'Ukondaisho ...' would have meant simply leaving out the extra character!). And this of course, is one of the main reasons why he was such a good carver; he was a specialist in a way that I will never be.

But I wouldn't want to be like him. I want to live the life I live now, surrounded by interesting experiences, and being a man of ideas. I am much more of a 'multi-faceted' man than he was. BUT I WANT BOTH! I want to be ME, and yet I want to carve like HIM!

What a hopeless dream!

December 1997