Sei Shōnagon, a gentlewoman serving in the imperial court of Empress Teishi in Japan in the 990s C.E., keeps a diary. This “pillow book” is a blend of short narratives, personal musings, and many lists of observations and experiences which Sei finds beautiful or interesting. These components are loosely connected and are not compiled in chronological order.
Sei especially enjoys describing the customs of Empress Teishi’s court throughout the year, such as New Year games and parades, and the rich, carefully selected clothing worn during various court festivals. She has especially fond recollections of exhilarating events like the Kamo High Priestess’s procession, and a Sutra Ceremony at which Her Majesty was particularly radiant and even invited the youthful Sei to witness proceedings from the imperial seating area. She also describes pilgrimages to shrines, journeys that have both religious and sightseeing aspects.
Sei’s descriptions of palace life often revolve around poetry—an obsession of Empress Teishi’s court. For example, once Teishi orders her ladies to jot down any ancient poem they can remember, with the aim of discerning what’s uppermost in their hearts. Another time, she recites the beginnings of various poems from the Kokinshu, a classical compilation, and asks the ladies to supply the closing lines of each. Such games are ways of passing the time in the secluded court, but they are also ways of displaying one’s cleverness (especially for the quick-witted Sei) and distinguishing oneself before the Empress. Sometimes such games had a romantic gloss, like when the famous poet Sanekata sends a flirtatious poem to a young gentlewoman, who is too shy to fulfill social expectation by responding with her own.
Sei also relates anecdotes of exchanges with friends, most often male courtiers like Yukinari or Tadanobu, which often feature joking exchanges of poetry. Sometimes, Sei actually downplays her poetic skill in order not to appear unladylike (for example, she hides her knowledge of Chinese, which was considered a masculine language). However, she generally holds her own in these good-natured tests of skill (at least in the anecdotes she chooses to record), and the Empress delights in Sei’s good reputation as well. In general, the male and female courtiers’ lives are carefully segregated, though Sei mentions secret affairs often enough to suggest that they were common (without giving away any names). Sei also devotes many of her entries to describing court outfits, because these—for example, the rich green robes of a Chamberlain—differentiated courtiers of various ranks.
When Sei makes lists, she often includes geographical features or sites—such as mountains, pools, and rivers—but her interest in them is driven by the poetic associations of the place-names, or with the legendary backstory of a given place. Sometimes a particular tree, for example, is associated in poetry with a certain bird—like the orange tree with the hototogisu, which is especially beloved in the poetic tradition. Other lists cover topics such as “dispiriting things”—like not receiving a poem from someone you care about—or “things that make your heart beat fast,” like seeing a sparrow with her nestlings or putting on incense-scented clothes. Sei is especially fond of the beauty and melancholy transience displayed by the change of seasons, or the way moonlight or weather put a special cast on romantic encounters. In all these things, Sei “can never be insensible to anything that […] fascinated” her. Sometimes, however, her lists have a disdainful tone, especially toward commoners (who are viewed as disruptions of beautiful scenes) or men (whom Sei views as generally lacking in sensitivity). Sei also includes occasional short, heavily descriptive scenes—such as an account of the morning after a lover’s secret visit—like those tales gentlewomen would tell for entertainment, or as if she intends to develop them into longer stories.
Sei only makes the vaguest allusions to historical events, such as the Regent’s death, which led to Teishi’s fall from favor and removal from the palace, and Sei’s own brief estrangement from the imperial household on the basis of her rumored association with a conspirator. After describing a glorious festival in the company of the imperial family, Sei does nothing more than allude to her “heavy heart,” because in fact Sei is looking back on the event after Teishi’s untimely death.
The Pillow Book ends with a possible explanation of the diary’s origin: the courtier Korechika gave Empress Teishi a gift of a bundle of paper, which the Empress in turn gifts to Sei. Sei begins filling the book with those things she finds delightful or impressive, never intending it to be seen by others, she claims. When Provincial Governor Tsunefusa spots the book during a visit to Sei’s home, he takes it with him despite her protests. “That seems to have been the moment when this book first became known,” Sei concludes.
