The Noh Mask
Claire Snook
Claire Snook
“It was total destruction,” said Hiroki, my oldest Japanese pupil who spoke the English language better than I did. “What they did to Hiroshima totally broke our belief in the West. It is something I can never forget.” He sighed and rolled the Noh mask in his hands, lost in his thoughts. Hardly surprising as he was one of the first to witness the carnage after it had taken place. Hiroki was my most interesting pupil, had been around the world more times than I could imagine, lived through both world wars and was now taking lessons in everything he could so he wouldn't have to spend too much time with his wife. She found it difficult having him home after he retired. The mask was truly beautiful. He had been carving them since a little boy and was a true master of the art. Our time was up but he was my last lesson of the day and I wanted to hear more. www.millionstories.net “Hiroki-san, please could you tell me another story?” “Another story Marie-sensai? Let me think.” Hiroki tapped the mask several times. “I could tell you the history behind this particular piece if you like.” “Please do.” I settled back in my hard chair and waited for Hiroki to start. I thought the mask was one he had carved but maybe not. It looked fairly new. He had an odd smile on his face as he stared at the mask. “This piece was carved by my great grandfather for the Emperor Komei in the 19th century. He hated anything different to Japan and refused to let foreign traders near the country. I don't think he met anyone who was not Japanese. We are traditional people at our hearts.” He chuckled, his face so deeply lined I could hardly see his eyes. I couldn't help but smile too. “It is something I have noticed Hiroki-san. Have many generations of your family worked on these masks?” I asked. “Many generations of my family have worked for many Emperors to give them the best masks in Nihon, that is until this mask was made. After that, it was felt wise to change our profession.” Hiroki had been in the army and then a salaryman, rising quite high in the ranks of an electronics company until his retirement. “The Emperor Komei was strong leader and broke traditions to take an active role in our country's matters because he wanted to protect Japan from new influences. He loved Noh and performers were always welcome to the palace. He commissioned my great grandfather to produce a line of beautiful masks for a certain, how do you say, group, or troupe of performers?” I knew he had asked this question purely for my benefit. “It's a troupe or a company of performers, “ I said. “Troupe, ah yes. I remember now. One day I will tell you about my visit to Stratford in the sixties. That was an interesting time to go to your land. “But the plays. You must know that it was forbidden for women to perform or act in front of an audience in those days. But one...troupe...used a young woman called Chicako for the female roles. Chicako means clever and she was. No one apart from the troupe's leader knew who she was but she was considered one of the greatest actors of the time. Her name was Naoko in public. It meant honest man.” We both smirked. www.millionstories.net “Well the Emperor decreed Naoko as his favourite because he was so gentle and delicate in his performance as a woman, especially as a Geisha. The Emperor gave Naoko anything he asked for. He had such command of the Emperor that others in the troupe became jealous and wanted to find a way to bring his downfall. But they still wanted the benefits the favourite could bring them. “The actors persuaded Naoko to ask for a new set of Noh masks so that their performances would be even more magnificent for the Emperor. Of course he agreed and my great grandfather was brought to the palace to work. The masks had to reflect the characters but the Emperor also wanted them to fit each actor perfectly. Each actor's face was measured so the perfect mask would be created. “As great grandfather measured Naoko's beautiful face he realised he was a woman, and as they worked together on the perfect mask for Naoko, of course they fell in love. Chicako told my great grandfather all her secrets and they started a relationship. It continued for several months until they were discovered by one of the other actors as he came to the shop early for a fitting. Unfortunately this actor was more jealous than the rest and told the other members of the troupe.” Hiroki paused at this point and looked at the mask. “They went against the troupe leader's wishes and told the Emperor. He was humiliated that a woman had fooled him for such a long time and Chicako was killed for her actions. The leader left the troupe in great sadness and was never seen again. Great grandfather was banished back to his ancestors' village in Shikoku. Chicako cursed the masks as she died so that whoever wore them would always feel the burden of what they had done.” Hiroki looked at me and I realised I was perched on the edge of my chair. I settled back down. Hiroki spoke quietly next. “Each actor died before the year had finished. They saw the joy Chicako had brought to the plays and the audience and how empty it was without her. The jealousy between them grew worse and the Emperor tired of them. So he removed them from the palace, forbidding them to take anything but the clothes they wore and the cursed masks. They wandered the towns of the country but no one would let them perform as their story had been told to many people. As they grew cold and hungry they became beggars and went to my great grandfather to ask forgiveness. They also wanted to return the masks. “My great grandfather refused as he too was suffering. He had lost his love and his profession and was working on the rice fields with the lowliest of farmers to earn money. The actors disappeared into the mountains that winter. Their bodies were found the following spring. Even though the winter had been a bad one, the bodies and masks were in perfect condition and easily identified by the villagers who found them. The men who found them kept the masks as they were worthy of an Emperor's eye. The village was ravaged by smallpox that summer and only a small number of people survived. One man who did came to my great grandfather with the masks and told him what had happened. “My great grandfather took the masks and went to visit the majo who lived in the mountains.” I interrupted him. He looked slightly perturbed. “Apologies Hiroki-san but could you explain majo to me?” “It means witch.” www.millionstories.net “Thank you.” He smiled and relaxed once more into his flow. “After great grandfather had completed the rituals for talking to a majo in peace, he told her what had happened. She was a good majo and could see his heart was broken. She could also see the curse on the masks. She agreed to speak to the yurei, that is the spirit, of Chicako and to see if she would release her curse. “Great grandfather thanked her and then was given tea to drink by the majo to make him sleep while the majo spoke to the yurei world. The majo knelt beside his body and drank her own special tea that allowed her to talk to yureis. She was able to find the yurei of Chicako through her guides and invited her to kneel at the table with her and her young man. Chicako did and was angry that she was unable to touch great grandfather or make him aware that she was there. She tore around the room destroying many of the majo's possessions including all of the masks except the one great grandfather had made for her. “Chicako's yurei was angry that she had been taken away from the world when she was in love, young and beautiful, and wanted to hurt as many people as possible. But the majo was kind and spoke good words to her. She showed her my great grandfather's heart and the yurei could see that it had broken because of her. The yurei begged forgiveness from the majo and asked what could be done to make things right. “The majo asked her to take back the curse and bless the mask. The yurei did as she was asked and as she did she felt a great calm before disappearing. “When great grandfather woke, he knew that things were better, thanked the majo for her wise, kind words, and returned to his village. Each year he remembered what the majo had done for him and left a bag of rice at the village's entrance during harvest. “The mask was now a source of luck for those with a good heart. Great grandfather was asked back to court where he once again found favour with the Emperor. He returned to his village after several years in court, now a rich man and able to live comfortably for the rest of his days. He married a local girl and had a son. He taught his son every thing he knew about mask carving and paid for him to go to a good school where he learnt about business. Grandfather moved to Kyoto, a big city in those days, and started a company there. When it came for him to inherit the mask, his fortune increased and he married the girl he loved. It has been like this for everyone who has the mask. They are very successful in business and love.” I looked at him puzzled. “But you have not had a quiet life Hiroki-san. You have seen so many terrible things and what about your wife!” I thought I might have gone too far with the last comment but his eyes disappeared into his face again. He laughed out loud. “I didn't get this mask until five years ago when my sister died. It was meant for her son but he doesn't believe in curses and blessings so I took it. He has been successful thanks to the good education and friends of my sister, and has a happy nature. People like to be around him because he shines happiness like the sun. I think I am too old for this mask to make a difference and I have no children. This mask should go to someone who needs it. You will know when it is your turn for an adventure.” He handed it to me. “For you Marie-sensai.” “O no, I couldn't, it's too beautiful.” And probably a priceless Japanese artifact which my uneducated Western paws shouldn't even touch. “It will help you in the future; you are young and have your life ahead of you.” Hiroki stood up and bowed. “Goodbye Marie-sensai. Thanks for listening to my stories.” And he walked out. I sat awkwardly in the windowless little room under the fluorescent light that made everything over bright. The mask was in front of me. Its beautiful Geisha face looked so delicate and pure. How the hell was I going to get this home in one piece? After stuffing my handbag with most of the tissue from the singing toilet down the corridor, I navigated my way back to my tiny apartment on the underground. The neon sign of the izakaya opposite glared into my room as I opened the door and I shut the curtain, opting for the kinder light of the lamp. I carefully opened my bag and drew out the mask. Was it my imagination or did it shimmer in my hands? The wood felt slightly warm, probably from being wedged under my armpit for the last hour but it added to the mysterious feeling I was getting from the mask. It was only a story I kept telling myself, a silly folk-tale that was passed down the generations to stop family members from failing. Back home we had a tale about a wedding ring passed from grandmother to granddaughter so I knew all about the power of stories. “Silly tale,” I muttered to myself as I dressed for bed. It was nearly midnight and I had lesson plans to write the next morning. “Who needs a big adventure when I'm already in the middle one?” www.millionstories.net Knock, knock. I froze. There was someone at my door. My American neighbour shouted through the letter box. “Marie, Marie, you have to open up! Something is happening and I don't know what to do.” © Claire Snook All Rights Reserved www.millionstories.net What we like about this story: We like the natural flow of the narrator, the way the reader is immediately pulled into the narrative and then the promise of more adventure at the end that sets the imagination running like a hare. Made to inspire follow-up short stories...off you go! |
| What we like about this story: We absolutely longed for it to be a true story, one that happened to us, and is still taking us on adventure after adventure... |
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