Enzan: The Far Mountain by John Donohue

Author:John Donohue [Donohue, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781594392825
Publisher: YMAA Publication Center
Published: 2014-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

The visitors from Tokyo turned the placid economy of the temple upside down. Rumors flew: the monks said Miyazaki was the scion of an old and wealthy family—descendants of the zaibatsu, the influential financiers who had dominated the business life of Japan before the war’s end. In the fifteen years since the emperor’s surrender and the dawn of a new Japan in 1945, the Miyazaki had plotted and worked and curried favor, eventually rehabilitating themselves and once more occupying board seats on some of the most prestigious financial organizations in the country. And the recent brilliantly arranged marriage of this young man had served to demonstrate just how far back into favor the Miyazaki family had climbed.

It was not simply that she was beautiful—although she was. We all saw that. The way she moved, her quiet and unhurried grace, spoke of the type of training and mastery of etiquette that was made possible only by an upbringing in the most prestigious of families.

Miyazaki Chika-hime, the young woman who had silently commiserated with the abbot, was a princess, a daughter of royalty, and a member of a cadet line of the Imperial House itself.

The negotiations that must have taken place, the elaborate and convoluted series of statements and regrets, the promises implied and otherwise that must have been part of the marriage proposal would have been truly astounding. I was young and naïve then, but even so I sensed that the political and financial deal that must have accompanied the betrothal was a dense, knotted tangle of actions. And when I thought of that grim-faced upstart from Tokyo and compared him to the beauty of his new wife, I did not know whether to be outraged by the marriage or simply amazed at the audacity of the Miyazaki clan and their ability to pull it off.

But here they were, newly married and traveling the country as a prelude to their new life together. And if the husband appreciated his good fortune, it did not show. If anything, he seemed to resent his situation, as if the marriage his family had worked so hard to arrange served to simply underscore how unworthy he was to consort with a woman of such a lineage and such beauty.

Takano called me to him later that day as the light faded and night approached, damp and cold. He was sitting alone, staring out into a small garden: grey rocks, raked soil, and a few gnarled bonsai. I knelt and bowed, but he sat for another long minute before turning and acknowledging my presence.

“Our guest wants a demonstration, Mori.” His voice was almost dreamy. I said nothing and, indeed, it seemed to me at the time he was not really speaking to me at all. His eyes had a curious lack of focus; they were seeing something, but it was not me. His mouth twisted in a grimace and he rocked slightly from side to side. Then he brought me into focus.

“I am told he is an enthusiastic kendoka,” Takano told me, referring to the modern version of swordsmanship.

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