午夜剧场

This year's Harvest Moon fell on September 21st, and it became a topic of conversation as it coincided with a full moon for the first time in eight years. Of course, for most people, the moon is synonymous with autumn. However, I find myself strangely drawn to the moon that I happen to see while walking huddled against the cold in winter.

A famous Chinese legend involving snow and the moon is the anecdote of Wang Huizhi of the Eastern Jin dynasty. On a night when the snow had cleared and the moon shone bright and clear, Huizhi remembered his friend Dai Kui. Huizhi boarded a small boat and set off toward the mountain valley where Kui lived in seclusion. He traveled up the river all night and reached the gate of the house. However, Huizhi did not enter the gate; he simply turned around and went home. When someone asked him why he had gone all that way only to return, he reportedly replied, "I went while my spirits were high, and returned when they were spent. Why was it necessary to see Dai?"

Huizhi was the son of Wang Xizhi. He lived in the late 4th century and his courtesy name was Ziyou. This story was widely known among the literati of the Heian period and was incorporated into many Chinese poems and waka. What seemed to particularly capture the imagination of the Japanese people was the image of Huizhi hurrying toward his friend in a small boat under the moonlight.

There is a poem by Fujiwara no Shigeaki from the late Heian period titled "Expressing One's Will at Year's End" (Honcho Mudaishi, Volume 5). After describing the hardships of court service and the difficulties of academic study, he continues, "Turning the boat on a moonlit night outside the river pavilion; seeking a horse on a snowy morning south of the rustic village." Of these, "turning the boat on a moonlit night" utilizes the aforementioned legend of Wang Huizhi. I believe this line expresses a longing for a life of self-composure, where one can set out by boat to visit a friend on a moonlit night whenever the heart desires.

The mid-Tang poet Bai Juyi wrote of the winter moon, "Late at night, having finished drafting the edict, the frost-moon is chilly and piercing" (Hakushi Monju, Volume 5, "On a Winter Night, Serving on Night Duty in the Palace with Official Qian"). This work was composed by the 37-year-old Bai Juyi while on night duty at the Hanlin Academy with his colleague Qian Hui. Looking outside after finishing work on a winter night, the surroundings must have been illuminated by moonlight as if frozen. "Frost-moon" refers to the moon on a night when frost has fallen. I imagine a fantastical scene where the white of the frost and the white of the moon reflect each other, making each white stand out even more vividly.