The Crone Fleece

The cult of the bodhisattva Kannon (Skt. Avalokiteśvara) has thrived in Japan since around the time of the introduction of Buddhism in the sixth century. Kannon is a staple figure in fiction and narrated genres of the late medieval period, and in The Crone Fleece (Ubakawa), the bodhisattva bestows its grace in a most unusual way: by granting the dazzlingly beautiful female protagonist a magical disguise—the eponymous crone fleece—to protect her from the depredations of covetous men. As a Cinderella-type love story with apparent connections to the otogizōshi Hachikazuki (The Bowl Bearer) and Hanayo no hime (Lady Blossom), The Crone Fleece invokes a range of social and sexual anxieties as it describes the travails of its tender young heroine, first at the hands of a cruel stepmother—another ubiquitous figure in medieval Japanese fiction—and later as a menial servant at the estate of Sasaki no Minbu Takakiyo in Ōmi Province, where her future is finally secured. The charm of the work lies in its dark humor, rooted in various characters’ false impressions and misunderstandings. Having been placed in an omniscient position, the reader is free to enjoy the comedy in the reactions of Takakiyo and his household to the apparent willingness of Takakiyo’s son to violate marital norms and social taboos, as well as the clever skill with which Takakiyo’s son eventually attains his parents’ consent to wed. Like most otogizōshi, The Crone Fleece ends auspiciously, and at its conclusion readers are urged to recite an incantation to Kannon, suggesting the story’s likely origins in a late-medieval proselytizing tradition intended to encourage faith in the bodhisattva.

The Crone Fleece survives in at least four nara ehon picture books, indicating its popularity in or around the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Despite the apparent fictionality of its characters, the story is set in a specific historical period—the Ōei era (1394–1428)—which is unusual among otogizōshi.

In the Ōei period, there was a person called Left Palace Guard Naruse no Kiyomune in the village of Iwakura in Owari Province. He lost his long-time wife and had only a single daughter to remember her by. Because it would not do for him to live on in that way, he later took a second wife. His daughter was eleven years old. Before long, Kiyomune was required to travel to the capital to perform a period of guard duty there. Turning to his new wife, he said, “My daughter is still very young, so please bring her up as well as you can.” He gave her detailed instructions and then set out for the capital.

Kiyomune entrusts his daughter to his second wife. (From Ubakawa, courtesy of the Jissen Women’s University Library)

Thereafter, the stepmother resented the girl to no end. The daughter thought to herself, “None of this would be happening if my father were here.” She pined for her father in the daytime and for her dead mother at night, leaving not a moment for her tears to dry. Because the girl lamented in this way, her stepmother hated her all the more, and she stopped feeding her and providing her with any other care. Thus in the spring of her twelfth year, the girl crept out of Iwakura Village under the cover of darkness. Because she had nowhere to go, she simply wandered where her feet led her until she came to the Kannon Hall of Jinmokuji Temple.

“This is the very buddha that my mother always used to visit!” she thought. “I hear that she used to make her way here on foot, night and day, to pray for my future. I hope that I’ll starve soon and speed on to where she is.”

Hiding from other people, the girl ensconced herself under the veranda of the inner sanctuary and prayed: “Truly, people say that your great compassionate vow is a vow to ensure peace in the present life and a happy rebirth in the next. I have nothing to ask for in this world, but please help me in the next.” Then, without a moment’s pause, she set about reading the Kannon Sutra, which her mother had always taught her.

On the third night at dawn, the bodhisattva Kannon appeared, awesome to behold, shining a golden light throughout the earthly realm. The bodhisattva stood at the sleeping girl’s head and spoke: “How sad to see you lost like this, when your mother used to come here all the time to pray for your future! Since you are so exceptionally beautiful, someone somewhere is sure to steal you for himself. Put this on.” Kannon gave her something that looked like a strip of tree bark. “This is called a ‘crone fleece.’ You should wear it and go where I tell you. Stand before the gate of Sasaki no Minbu Takakiyo of Ōmi Province.” With these words, the bodhisattva disappeared without a trace.

“What a wonderful revelation!” the girl exclaimed, and she prostrated herself in prayer. As the sky lightened, she donned the crone fleece and crawled out from under the veranda. The people who saw her laughed and said, “What an ugly old woman!”

Doing as she had been told, the girl traveled to Ōmi Province. Because she resembled a horrible hag, no one gave her a second glance, even though she slept in the mountains and fields. She eventually wandered to the house of Sasaki no Minbu Takakiyo, where she rested beside the gate and reverently chanted a sutra.

Takakiyo’s son, Sasaki no Jūrō Takayoshi, who was nineteen years old, happened to be lingering near the gate. He summoned a samurai and said, “I’ve noticed something strange. This old woman here is reading a sutra, yet in spite of her appearance, her voice is majestic, like a heavenly bird.1 We’d do well to keep an odd person like that around. Call her inside and have her tend the cauldron fire.”

Kannon grants the girl the protective crone fleece. (From Ubakawa, courtesy of the Jissen Women’s University Library)

“Hey, old lady!” the samurai beckoned. “You can stay here and tend the cauldron fire.” The girl entered and did exactly as she had been told.

It was just past the tenth of the third month, and the southern-front garden was planted with all kinds of flowers. When the cherry blossoms scattered, other bulbs were there to bloom. The willows by the waterside trailed yellowish-green fronds, and the moon at the mountain ridge in the deepening night vied with the flowers in their colorful beauty. Late in the night when the house had grown still, the girl went out into the garden to take in the blossoms and the moon. Wistfully thinking back on her past, she paused and recited,

tsuki hana no	Though the colors
iro wa mukashi ni	of the moon and the blossoms
kawaranedo	remain unchanged,
waga mi hitotsu zo	this single body of mine
otoroenikeru	has gone to rack and ruin.

Jūrō Takayoshi knew a thing or two about poetry and music, and since he was a person of refinement, he, too, begrudged the setting moon. As he sat in the flower-viewing pavilion with the bamboo blind rolled up high, he spied a suspicious figure in the garden. Taking up his sword, he slipped in among the blossoms for a closer look. It was the old woman who tended the cauldron fire. “That old wretch,” he thought, watching her quietly. “What’s she doing here?”

Unaware that she was being watched, the girl stood facing the moon. She pulled back the edge of the crone fleece, revealing her lovely face. Then she recited,

tsuki hitori	You moon alone,
aware to wa miyo	look down on me with pity!
ubakawa wo	When might I ever
itsu no yo ni ka wa	shed this crone fleece
nugite kaesan	and give it back again?

The girl was so beautiful that she seemed to light up the space all around.

Takayoshi confronts the girl in the garden after she pulls back the crone fleece. (From Ubakawa, courtesy of the Jissen Women’s University Library)

“What’s the meaning of this?” Takayoshi thought, and being a sturdy fellow, he readied his sword and strode over to the girl. “I recognized you as the old fire tender,” he glowered, “but you’re not her—you’re a beautiful lady. You must be some evil deity. I won’t let you escape!”

The girl stared. “Please settle down for a moment,” she calmly replied. “I am no evil deity. I’ll explain to you my appearance.” With that, she recounted everything that had happened to her until then. Takayoshi listened intently. “So it’s a miracle of Kannon!” he exclaimed, and he clasped his hands and wept for joy.

Because Takayoshi did not yet have a wife, his bedroom was a forlorn place where he slept and rose alone. But now taking the girl by the hand, he led her into the flower-viewing pavilion, pulled off the crone fleece, and gazed at her in the lamplight. She was like a heavenly being descended to earth, gorgeous beyond compare. Her beauty lit up the space all around. “You must be the daughter of Naruse no Saemon Kiyomune,” he said, “the one about whom I’ve heard. It may be a hasty thing for me to say, but what problem could there be? Please marry me.” He then spoke at length of their life to come.

“But my appearance—,” the girl replied, “it’s extraordinary! Your parents would be so angry if they heard. Please keep me in service here forever, and I’ll tend the cauldron fire as an old woman.”

“Now that I’ve met you like this,” Takayoshi said, “I won’t leave you for a moment, not at the ends of the fields or in the deepest mountains, not even if I’m to be disowned.” He lay down beside her and wept, and since there was nothing else that she could do, she bent to his touch. Thus, beneath shared covers, they sealed a vow of eternal love.

Night eventually gave way to dawn, and bewailing the morning parting, Takayoshi and his darling shed endless tears. As it was already growing light, they could hear the lesser servants bustling about. Pulling the crone fleece back over her head, the girl set out to build the cauldron fire. Takayoshi held her by the sleeve and recited,

Kannon no	Thanks to Kannon,
on wo kitarishi	whose debt you bear,
ubakawa wo	the crone fleece
sue tanomoshiku	has served you ever well.
ware ya nugasen	Shall I be the one to strip it off?2

The girl replied,

ukikoto wo	Hardships I’ve borne,
kasanete kitaru	like robes on top of robes—
ubakawa wo	if you were not in this world,
kimi yo ni nakuba	could there be anybody
tare ka nugasen	to strip me of my crone fleece?

It was pitiful indeed how she composed these lines and then went off to build the fire.

Takayoshi’s mother and father had previously arranged for their son to marry the daughter of the Kyoto Imadegawa Major Captain of the Left. They had the nursemaid Saishō deliver a message to their son explaining that they would send him to the capital. Takayoshi simply answered, “Although it is a terrible thing to disregard your will, my only wish is to take monastic vows. I cannot do as you advise.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” the parents wondered when they heard his reply. “Like other young people, he must have fallen in love. Get to the bottom of this, Saishō.”

Saishō visited Takayoshi and said, “It’s wrong of you to trouble your parents so! You’re a young man, and even if you’ve set your heart on someone else, it’s not very bad. If she’s lowly, you’d still be within your rights as a lord to summon her here and make her your wife. That kind of thing happens all the time. Your parents wouldn’t be particularly upset.” She went on and on.

Takayoshi took in her words. “What do I have to hide now?” he said. “It may be beyond most people’s imagination, but I want to marry the old woman who tends our cauldron fire.” Saishō was utterly aghast. Without saying a word, she burst into tears and ran back to the boy’s parents, to whom she reported the news.

“What’s the meaning of this?” the parents exclaimed. “Has our son gone insane?” They each lay down where they were and cried. After a while, the father said, “A fine boy like our Takayoshi isn’t prone to telling lies. This must be part of his plan to become a monk. Oh, how disturbing!” But then he said, “Well, at any rate, we’ll let him take the old fire tender for his bride and see what he thinks about that!” He sent a messenger to his son, saying, “In that case, since tomorrow is an auspicious day, summon the old woman and make her your wife.”

Takayoshi was overjoyed. He immediately prepared a wickerwork carriage and sundry celebrations. The people of the house were incredulous, but because it was their master’s command, they all set to work.

When the day arrived, Takayoshi summoned the old woman and ushered her into his personal quarters. The two of them dressed and adorned themselves together, in private. As the sky lightened, the girl pulled her head cloth down over her brow, stepped into the carriage, and went to see Takayoshi’s mother. The men bore her carriage right into the reception hall, where the parents watched her emerge. She was not the same old woman as before.

“What’s the meaning of this?” everyone exclaimed. The parents were dumbfounded. The family stared as the girl approached her father-in-law. She seemed to be of another world, as if a bodhisattva or some heavenly being had descended to the earthly realm. Someone so pretty was unheard of in the past. She looked to be thirteen or fourteen years old, with a fresh face and a figure so lovely that it could never be painted. Her beauty was beyond words to describe. Staring in astonishment, Takakiyo and his wife were infinitely pleased.

As his wedding present, Takayoshi was entrusted with the family fortunes.

Word of these events spread throughout the land. “So it was because Kannon brought them together that Takayoshi found a wife!” the emperor declared upon hearing the news. “Amazing!” He immediately summoned Takayoshi to the capital, where he designated him the Sasaki Right Commander of the Military Guards. He also granted him the provinces of Ōmi and Echizen, which was a splendid case of “stacking domains.” Later, Takayoshi and his wife had many children, and they prospered for ages to come.

All of this was due to the compassion of the most merciful Kannon. Everyone who reads this story should recite three times, “Hail the Merciful Bodhisattva Kannon.” Have no doubt that Kannon will grant us peace in this world and a happy rebirth in the next.

TRANSLATION AND INTRODUCTION BY KELLER KIMBROUGH

 

 

The translation is from a single-volume Ubakawa picture book (nara ehon) formerly in the collection of the Kannon Sengyōkai (Kannon Devotional Association), typeset and annotated in Hamanaka Osamu, ed., Shinchū Muromachi monogatari shū, Daigaku koten sōsho 8 (Tokyo: Benseisha, 1989), 13–21. The illustrations are from the Ubakawa picture book in the Jissen Women’s University Library.

  1. Literally, a kalavinka, a Himalayan bird renowned for its exquisite song. In the Pure Land Buddhist tradition, the kalavinka is depicted with the face of a beautiful woman and is said to reside in the Pure Land.

  2. Kitarishi functions as a pivot-word between the phrases on wo ki[ru] (to owe a debt [to Kannon]) and kitarishi ubakawa (the crone fleece that [you] wore).