Ingrid Parker: Rashomon Gate – A Mystery of Ancient Japan

"How stupid of me," Ono said immediately, bowing deeply several times. "Shall I go get them now?"

"No, no! We will make do this time. Did you steep the tea properly?"

"I think so." Ono turned to Akitada. "The professor has extremely refined tastes, unlike anyone else in this university. I often tell him that he is wasted on the yokels from the provinces who attend his classes."

Far from being flattered by this speech, Oe snapped, "Don't be an idiot, man! I have plenty of students from the best families. There is Prince Yoakira's grandson, Lord Minamoto, and a nephew of the prime minister, both of them with imperial blood in their veins. How dare you say I teach yokels?"

Akitada, trying to divert Oe's wrath from the hapless Ono, said quickly, "Just now I met a very superior looking young man in the main hall. An older student. Very tall and handsome."

"Older?" Oe frowned at Ono.

"It must have been Ishikawa, sir. He came early to pick up the essays."

"Ishikawa? He's a nobody. Graduate student. Clever, but comes from a poor family and stays here on scholarship. Mind you, he makes himself useful by reading papers for me. I am pressed for time, you know. The Kamo festival is coming up, and I am arranging a poetry match between the university faculty and the nobles. We were just reviewing the account of such a contest on the occasion of Emperor Mou Tsung's river party. Very appropriate, as we are to meet in the lake pavilion of the Spring Garden. No doubt you will be invited. Do you compose?"

"I am afraid my poor talents are solely in the area of prose," Akitada said awkwardly. "A memorial on encouraging farming by easing the rice tax, and a report on Buddhist practices in the provinces."

"Hmm. I can't abide the Buddhists. The Chinese knew how to deal with them. Kicked all the monks out of the temples and melted down the gold buddhas for the imperial treasury. Recite some lines from the thing on farmers!"

Akitada confessed that he could not remember enough to oblige.

"That should tell you something. If it were good, you'd remember. I myself composed a memorial several years ago. It went like this."

Oe recited in a deep, resonant voice. Akitada began to understand the man's reputation. The syllables and lines rolled from his tongue like music.

Ono sat enthralled. When Oe finally stopped, his assistant reached into his sleeve for a tissue to dry his moist eyes. "Beautiful!" he sighed. "Nothing better has ever been written. Not even Po Chu has your way with assonance and the balanced line."

"You can take the tea things back," said Oe sourly. "I must return to my work, Sugawara, but I expect to see you around."

Akitada removed himself from the presence of the great Oe. He took a shortcut to the school of law by walking through the courtyard of the mathematics department. A stranger blocked his way.

"Who are you?" he demanded in an irate tone.

Akitada explained and discovered that the irascible person was the incumbent in mathematics. Professor Takahashi was a lean man, in his fifties, with thinning hair and the wrinkled face and neck of an ill-tempered turtle. He peered at Akitada for several moments before acknowledging his status as a colleague.

"I cannot imagine what possesses them to use temporary people," he said nastily. Our reputation is bad enough as it is. However, I dare say this is better than letting Hirata struggle on alone. He is getting past it. Have you met any of the others?"

Akitada mentioned his morning's encounters.

"Nishioka is an intellectual zero. He has his nose in everybody's business instead of doing his duties, and Sato is a drunk with the libido of a badger," Takahashi informed him. "Oe, of course, is our great man! Fortune smiles on him. Those empty-headed court nobles are impressed by all that passion and thunder. And fame fills the pockets nicely. The man has even acquired a summer villa on Lake Biwa. Next he will, no doubt, be appointed to the Council of State."

For a moment Akitada was bereft of words. Takahashi seemed to have few qualms about blackening his colleagues' reputations. What a change from the kindly man who had held this position before! Akitada said, "I see there have been many changes here since my time. Apparently few of my former professors are still teaching. Besides Professor Hirata there seems to be only Professor Tanabe left, and he was busy preparing his lecture when I arrived."

"More likely taking a nap," snorted Takahashi. "He's senile, I'm afraid. But see for yourself."

"How are the students?"

"Blockheads, most of them. What can you expect? Their parents are either doting courtiers who have nothing but pleasure on their minds and don't want the young monsters troubled with work, or they are officials in the provinces where schools are conducted by illiterates."

"Surely you exaggerate," Akitada protested. "Professor Oe spoke very highly of some of his aristocratic pupils, and I understand he uses one of the graduate students to read his papers."

"Oh? I did not know that such a thing is permissible. Since the definition of professional ethics has apparently been modified, perhaps we can all turn over our responsibilities to students and enjoy ourselves in our summer homes. Which graduate student is it?"

"I am afraid I cannot tell you." Akitada had had enough of Takahashi's slanderous comments on everything and everyone, but he could not afford to alienate him. Therefore he said politely, "It has been an honor to meet you, sir, but I am expected in my own department. I think classes are about to start."

"More's the pity! Another day of one's life wasted! But don't let me stifle your enthusiasm. A temporary assignment is, after all, not a life sentence!"

Akitada fled. Outside he gulped fresh air and let the morning breeze cool his temper. When he crossed the street to enter the courtyard of the law school, he thought he saw Nishioka walking away, but the fuzzy topknot could have been anyone's.

Hirata was in an empty classroom arranging seating mats and checking the supply of ink stones, brushes and water containers at every student's place. When he saw Akitada, his face lit up and he asked him about his morning.

Akitada sighed. "I have met several of your colleagues. The experience has been depressing."

Hirata laughed. "Let me guess! Takahashi was one of them?"

"Yes. And an inquisitive fellow called Nishioka, a tipsy lute player with his arms around a prostitute, and a self-proclaimed poet laureate who heaps abuse on his admiring assistant. Oh, and there was also a very rude student who apparently despises them both."

Hirata chuckled. "Ah, yes. You have been busy! The student must have been Ishikawa. He is expected to take first place in the next examinations and is a bit too sure of himself. I fear his arrogance will stand in his way in the future." Hirata's smile faded. "In this world, talent and ability will not suffice if a young man from a poor background does not also have humility and grace."

"What has happened to this place? Nothing seems the same. There are signs of neglect everywhere. The students are arrogant, and the professors malign each other. Surely things were not this way in my day?"

Hirata paused in his arrangements and looked at him. "I'm afraid the times do not favor us. "Then he smiled again. "But come! It isn't so bad. You will like your students, and may come to appreciate some of your colleagues, too."

"Professor Oe claims that the grandson of the late, sainted Prince Yoakira is a student here."

"Oh, yes. Poor boy. He attends your class."

For a moment, Akitada was intrigued but, being pressed for time, he returned to his primary purpose. "I looked at the anteroom of the Temple of Confucius. It seems readily accessible from outside. Do you remember who attended the rites with you?"