(Also known as The Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves or The Ten Thousand Leaves) Eighth century Japanese poetry.
The following entry provides criticism of Man'yōshū from 1899 to 2001.
The Man'yōshū is the oldest extant anthology of Japanese poetry, a massive work consisting of 4,516 poems in twenty volumes, mostly from the Asuka and Nara periods of the seventh and eighth centuries. Generally considered the finest of the imperial anthologies due to the strength and purity of its poetic evocation of the Japanese spirit, the Man'yōshū was composed by some 450 writers—with more than 400 of their identities known. Among the most significant poets who contributed to the collection are such figures as Kakinomoto Hitomaro, Yamanoue Okura, and Ōtomo Yakamochi, the last of whom is designated as the principal compiler. Much of the richness of the Man'yōshū is attributed to the artistic diversity of these and other authors, as well as to the fact that, unlike later royal anthologies, the collection encompasses all levels of Japanese life by including authors outside of the imperial court. The vast majority of its verse is in the form of tanka, a five-line poem consisting of thirty-one syllables distributed in a pattern of five syllables, seven syllables, then five, seven, and seven, for each line respectively. This type of poem is also sometimes referred to as waka. The other principal poetic forms represented in the Man'yōshū include its 265 chōka and 62 sedōka: the former a long poem that frequently includes narrative or expands upon one principal theme, the latter an older, six-line poetic form featuring a 5/7/7/5/7/7 syllabic scheme. (Both types were to lose their popularity and virtually disappear in the later classical period.) Overall, the Man'yōshū features a deeply Shinto sensibility, emanating from Japan's nature-oriented indigenous religion, coupled with a pervasive Chinese influence, evident in occasional Confucian themes, Taoist elements, and in the origins of the man'yōgana, the unique written language of the collection.
Scholars believe that at its core the anthology contains an original or Ur-Man'yōshū, the contents of which roughly comprise the first two books of the existing work. Featuring examples of the three major poetic forms found in the Man'yōshū, by such figures as Hitomaro, Princess Nukada, and Empress Jitō, this first portion of the collection sets the fundamental patterns and themes of the whole work. Considering the work's status as an early text, commentators agree that the assembly of the Man'yōshū likely occurred over a lengthy period of time and involved numerous editors, including as many as five to ten principal figures. Nevertheless, the vast majority of its compilation is generally thought to have been undertaken by Yakamochi (718-785), who also contributed 473 pieces of verse to the anthology, more than any other single poet. His poetry, which appears in books 17 to 20, includes one dated 759, the last added to the collection. Yakamochi is also credited with preserving the elegiac banka, a type of funereal verse connected to primitive Shinto religious traditions that was gradually replaced by Buddhist forms in later generations. Another individual associated with the editorial construction of the Man'yōshū, Tachibana Moroe was once identified as the work's main compiler, but has since been displaced by Yakamochi and more likely served an advisory or supportive role. The editorial process almost certainly continued in the years after Yakamochi's efforts were complete, and in the ensuing decades the textual integrity of the Man'yōshū suffered a severe reversal. Due to the lack of a native Japanese system of writing in the seventh and eighth centuries, the anthology was composed in a form of Old Japanese that borrowed Chinese characters to represent Japanese sounds. Consequently, following the introduction of the standardized Japanese katakana in the ninth century, the Man'yōshū had become all but indecipherable to common readers. Addressing this issue in 951, Emperor Murakami reportedly instructed the poet Minamoto Shitago to begin a process of phonetic and semantic reconstruction of the text that has continued into the twenty-first century. Critics recognize such figures as Priest Keichu, the seventeenth-century, and Kamo Mabuchi, an eighteenth-century scholar, for their authoritative commentaries and influential interpretations of the work. In the contemporary period, Japanese editions by Omodaka Hisataka and by Nakanishi Susumu are considered authoritative, whereas considerable barriers with transliteration typically render comprehensive, non-Japanese translations as elusive.
Critics separate the verse of the Man'yōshū into three major thematic categories: miscellaneous (zōka), personal exchanges or love poetry (sōmonka), and elegies (banka). Among these, the broad subject of love, complicated and enriched by loss and separation, comprise the major thematic component of the complete collection. Numerous other themes run through the anthology as well, with individual poems focusing on nature, legends, and folk tales. Additional zōka include descriptive and travel verse, Confucian-themed pieces that treat such subjects as poverty or impermanence, hiyuka, or allegorical poems, seasonal lyrics, such as popular plum-viewing tanka, humorous and celebratory verse, banquet poems, and the poetry of the frontier guardsmen. Finally, the Man'yōshū includes a wide spectrum of public poetry, particularly the banka—laments for the dead used for the social mourning of important, political individuals. The principal setting of the Man'yōshū is the Yamato region of central Japan, wherein lies both the Asuka Valley, home of the seventh-century imperial court, and the district of Nara, site of the nation's earliest capital, established in 710. And, although the centralized aristocracy represents a major focus of the poetry in the anthology, extensive regional verse appears as well. As the collection itself is not thematically organized, scholars generally divide the Man'yōshū among four periods for purposes of historical classification. The first period ranges from 645 to 672 and includes a number of poems from previous eras, beginning with its oldest poem, thought to have been composed by Emperor Yūryaku in the mid-fifth century. Likewise, this division contains lyrics passed down from oral or folk traditions that generally predate the collection. Among the principal seventh-century representatives of this earliest period of the Man'yōshū are a number of female writers, such as Nukada Ōkimi, noted for her impassioned lyrics and courtly waka. A second period from 673 to 710 contains principally aristocratic verse. The preeminent writer of the period, courtly poet Hitomaro, is also considered the finest of the contributors. Hitomaro excelled in the long poem form (chōka) and is particularly esteemed for his banka, such as his lament for the death of Prince Takechi and a series of moving elegies including one for his deceased wife. The collection also includes a 367-poem “Hitomaro Collection,” although many of these works are not, in fact, attributed to the Man'yōshū's most illustrious poet. Other noteworthy contributors of this phase are Emperor Temmu, Empress Jitō, and Takechi Kurohito. The meditative, individualistic style of the latter is said to have anticipated the work of Yamabe Akahito, a distinguished poet of the third period, which runs from 710 to about 730. While the courtier Akahito produced delicate, lyric evocations of nature, his work represents only one aspect of the diverse content of the Man'yōshū composed during this time. Alongside his writings appear the intellectual and humanist verse of Okura, governor of Chikuzen province. Okura's writings reflect his sympathetic awareness of social issues, evident in the “Dialogue on Poverty” and in his disconsolate evocations of the suffering caused by prolonged illness, old age, and death. The final phase of Man'yōshū poetry covers the years 731 to 759, and is dominated by the poet and editor Yakamochi, whose father Ōtomo Tabito's work represents an important subcategory within the anthology—the poetry of longing. The son, a prominent court official, is regarded for his youthful love poems as well as his stylized, contemplative evocations of nature and the melancholic elegies that conclude the collection.
Overshadowed in the decades after its completion by Chinese poetry, the Man'yōshū was largely forgotten for centuries until being recovered in the late medieval period and reconstructed throughout the modern era. By the twentieth century it had been elevated to its current status as “the supreme monument of Japanese lyricism,” in the words of Donald Keene. Widely recognized as one of the finest achievements of Japanese literature, the Man'yōshū enjoys a critical reputation rivaled only by that of the seventeenth-century haiku poetry of Matsuo Bashō, or of the seminal novel Genji monogatari (Tale of Genji). Specific areas of modern critical attention to the work have been as diverse as its contents. Linguistically-oriented critics study the metaphorical complexity of the verse with an expressed interest in the extensive use of so-called “pillow-words” (makurakotoba), a collection of formulaic descriptive phrases. While continuing to admire its overall content, modern scholars have frequently reassessed the merits of the collection's constituent poetic works, generally attaching greater importance to the lengthy chōka at the expense of shorter tanka. Such reappraisals have consequently led to new distinctions in the relative importance of individual poets, notably in an increased regard for Okura and a declining favor for Akahito. The considerable influence of Chinese literature on the Man'yōshū has also been extensively studied, providing a vital area of contemporary comparative interest in the collection. Summarizing the lofty standing of this vast collection, Harold Wright has praised the Man'yōshū for its “embodying strength of feeling, sincerity, and simplicity,” and has considered its poetry “the purest expression of the early Japanese spirit,” even lauding the work as one of the greatest anthologies of lyric verse in world literature.
The Man'yōshū: One Thousand Poems (translated by the Nippon Gakujutsu Shinkokai) 1969
Land of the Reed Plains: Ancient Japanese Lyrics from the ‘Man'yōshū’ (translated by Kenneth Yasuda) 1972
Ten Thousand Leaves: Love Poems from the ‘Manyōshū’ (translated by Harold Wright) 1979
The Ten Thousand Leaves: A Translation of the ‘Man'yōshū’ (translated by Ian Hideo Levy) 1981
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SOURCE: Aston, W. G. “Japanese Poetry Generally—The ‘Manyōshiu’—Works in Chinese.” In A History of Japanese Literature, pp. 24-52. New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1899.
[In the following excerpt from his survey of Japanese literature, Aston summarizes the principal characteristics of the Man'yōshū and offers several translated examples of the poetry it contains.]
While the eighth century has left us little or no [Japanese] prose literature of importance, it was emphatically the golden age of poetry. Japan had now outgrown the artless effusions … [of a previous era], and during this period produced a body of verse of an excellence which has never since been surpassed. The reader who expects to find this poetry of a nation just emerging from the barbaric stage of culture characterised by rude, untutored vigour, will be surprised to learn that, on the contrary, it is distinguished by polish rather than power. It is delicate in sentiment and refined in language, and displays exquisite skill of phrase with a careful adherence to certain canons of composition of its own.
The poetry of this and the following period was written by and for a very small section of the Japanese nation. The authors, many of them women, were either members of the Mikado's court, or officials temporarily stationed in the provinces, but looking to the...
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SOURCE: Ceadel, Eric B. “Japanese Literature.” In Literature of the East, An Appreciation, edited by Eric B. Ceadel, pp. 161-88. London: John Murray (Publishers) Ltd., 1953.
[In the following excerpt, Ceadel comments on the distinctive qualities of the long and short poems in the Man'yōshū.]
… The waka is a poem consisting of a succession of pairs of five-syllabled and seven-syllabled lines, the end of the poem being marked by an extra line of seven syllables. This alternation between lines of five syllables and lines of seven syllables was virtually the only technical requirement, and such factors as rhyme, stress, rhythmical feet, and so on, which are essential in the poetry of many countries, play no part in the waka. Yet this simple device of alternation between the lengths of lines, with the assistance of the nature of the Japanese language,1 proved a most successful poetical form: it produces a pleasing effect of alternate rising and falling, of alternate haste and leisure, of alternate tension and relaxation. A tribute to its success is that it remained the standard form of Japanese poetry for over a thousand years. For most of this time it admitted only native Japanese words: words borrowed from Chinese were rigidly excluded.
The waka, then, originated from the rather primitive popular songs and poems from the earliest days, of the type...
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SOURCE: Putzar, Edward. “The Man'yōshū.” In Japanese Literature: A Historical Outline, pp. 27-35. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1973.
[In the following excerpt, Putzar traces the development of the Man'yōshū over four periods ranging from 629 to 759 and surveys the collection's principal poetic contributors.]
The twenty scrolls of the Man'yōshū record approximately 4,500 poems. In addition to the dominant forms of chōka and waka there are sixty-two sedōka, one poem in the Buddha's footprint-stone poems form (bussokuseki katai), and one linked verse (renga). The Man'yōshū was not compiled as a unified whole and there is some diversity in its editorial style. Basically the poems fall into three types: miscellaneous (zōka), love poems (sōmonka), and elegies (banka). Further classification can also be made through differentiating poems that are direct statements of emotion, those which dwell on some object, allegorical poems, travel poems, question and answer poems (sedōka) and also the style and attitude of expression. There have been various theories about the compilation of the work, but in its original form it seems to have been assembled by Ōtomo no Yakamochi (d. 785), who added his own poems and those of his choosing in scrolls 17 through...
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SOURCE: Teele, Roy E. “Speculations on the Critical Principles Underlying the Editing of the Man'yōshū.” Tamkang Review 7, no. 2 (October 1976): 1-15.
[In the following essay, Teele studies the structure of the Man'yōshū, submitting an outline of its contents and offering insights into its editorial organization under Ōtomo Yakamochi and others.]
On New Year's Day in 759 Otomo no Yakamochi wrote this hopeful poem:
Once again the New Year's beginning: the first of spring's Today, and the falling snow's density foreshadows good things.
Assigned to the governorship of the province of Inaba, Yakamochi was reciting for his subordinates at a banquet welcoming in the new year. Ironically, he was so far from the capital as to be virtually in exile. Moreover, this is now numbered 4516, the last poem in Book XX, the last book of the Manyoshu. Not only that, it is Yakamochi's last recorded poem; although he had been a relatively prolific poet, we have none of his poems from the following twenty-five years of his life. From our point of view the irony of Yakamochi's hopeful tone is near to tragedy, but perhaps not for him, for he was recalled to the capital and responsible government positions.
He was forty-one at the time. He had written a poem scolding some of his clansmen for participating in conspiracies....
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SOURCE: Wright, Harold. Introduction to Ten Thousand Leaves: Love Poems from the ‘Manyōshū,’ translated by Harold Wright, pp. 7-11. Boulder, Colo.: Shambhala Publications, 1979.
[In the following excerpt, Wright considers love themes in the context of seventh- and eighth-century Japanese poetry.]
The Manyōshū “needs no apologies,” Donald Keene writes in the introduction to his Anthology of Japanese Literature. “It is one of the world's great collections of poetry.”1 The title of this outstanding work, Manyōshū, translates literally as “A Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves,” but through implication Manyōshū can also mean “A Collection for Myriad Ages.” Compiled in its final form during the eighth century, the anthology contains 4,516 poems arranged in twenty volumes. Embodying strength of feeling, sincerity, and simplicity, these poems have been honored as the purest expression of the early Japanese spirit.
Much of the Manyōshū's richness is derived from the varied backgrounds of its over four hundred known contributors, not to mention the innumerable anonymous poets whose work is included in the collection. Noble sentiments of those residing in the court are found next to the rustic expressions of frontier guards stationed at lonely outposts. Folk songs, poems in praise of saké, longer poems on legendary themes,...
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SOURCE: Miller, Roy Andrew. “The Lost Poetic Sequence of the Priest Manzei.” Monumenta Nipponica: Studies in Japanese Culture 36, no. 2 (summer 1981): 133-72.
[In the following excerpt, Miller probes the editorial reconstruction of the Man'yōshū over the centuries, examining the myriad ways in which the anthology has been rearranged by focusing on an author of seven Old Japanese poems in the collection, Kasa Maro, better known as the Priest Manzei.]
We still understand very little—and we know far less than we would like to—about the ways in which the Man'yōshū was originally put together.1 That the overriding motivation for the compilation of this, the first anthology of Old Japanese poetry, must be traced to the powerful stimulus generated by the importation of Chinese poetic anthologies to Japan—and particularly to growing Japanese familiarity with the Wen hsüan2 as well as with subsequent compilations of T'ang poetry—has never been in doubt: just as familiarity with the Chinese histories led to expectations and created demands on the part of Japanese court society that could be assuaged only by the compilation of the Nihon Shoki,3 so also did the growing acquaintance with Chinese collections of poetry give rise to a gradually escalating demand for collections of native poetic works. And while this demand was initially met by...
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SOURCE: Konishi, Jin'ichi. “Waka Composition.” In A History of Japanese Literature, Volume One: The Archaic and Ancient Ages, translated by Aileen Gatten and Nicholas Teele, edited by Earl Miner, pp. 393-417. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984.
[In the following excerpt, Konishi discusses the prevailing style of lyric composition in the Man'yōshū, emphasizing individualistic expression and technical innovation.]
FROM KOTODAMA TO GA
[Kakinomoto] Hitomaro's chief intent was to use contact with the advances of Chinese civilization to give him personal insight into the indigenous Yamato [or, early central Japanese] culture. And when he turned to express himself in poetry, his guide phrases, which maintained kotodama [the belief that auspicious or inauspicious events occurred as a result of certain turns of phrase], played a crucial role. During the second stage of the Ancient Age, waka poets held to the same way of thought, although there are not a few differences in the poetic styles of the two stages. During the second, poets believed they could use Chinese writings, to some degree, to act as agents of Yamato expression. In putting that aim into practice they conclusively weakened kotodama.
The poets did not lose faith in kotodama. We recall that it was Okura who called Yamato “A land where the kotodama / Brings us good fortune.” He...
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SOURCE: Keene, Donald. “The Uses of Japanese Poetry.” In The Pleasures of Japanese Literature, pp. 45-70. New York: Columbia University Press, 1988.
[In the following excerpt, Keene concentrates on the eulogies of Hitomaro and Okaru's “Dialogue on Poverty” as representative works within the Man'yōshū.]
… About fifty years after the compilation of the Kojiki the greatest collection of Japanese poetry, the Man'yōshū, was put into more or less its present shape. It is almost inconceivable that Japanese poetry could have evolved so rapidly. Many poems in the Man'yōshū were in fact composed well before the presentation of the Kojiki in 712. Of course the songs in the Kojiki represent the state of Japanese poetry not at the time of the compilation, but much earlier; but the contrast between the primitive Kojiki poetry and the supremely accomplished Man'yōshū poetry is overwhelming.
The poems of the Man'yōshū can be divided into public and private poems. The uses of the public poems especially have been the focus of critical researches over the years. The most conspicuous feature of these poems in terms of their form is that many are chōka, poems ranging in length up to a hundred and fifty lines—though the five-line waka, the predominant form employed in the Man'yōshū, would soon become virtually the only...
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SOURCE: Rimer, J. Thomas. “The Anthology of Ten Thousand Leaves: Man'yōshū.” In A Reader's Guide to Japanese Literature, pp. 24-27. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1988.
[In the following essay, Rimer briefly encapsulates the Man'yōshū, calling it “the first extensive record of the Japanese emotional response to the world of men and nature.”]
The Man'yōshū, the title of which might be translated as “The Anthology of Ten Thousand Leaves” or “An Anthology of Myriad Leaves,” is the first great collection of Japanese poetry. For some Japanese readers and critics it remains the very best. Compiled sometime during the latter part of the eighth century, during the Nara period, the final version contains twenty books and something over four thousand poems, written by poets named and unnamed, and in a variety of styles. The anthology has in some ways the same canonic status in Japanese culture that the Book of Songs possesses for classical China. Both serve as sourcebooks for their respective cultures and provide points of repair, rightly or wrongly, for definitions of the national psyche. It should be mentioned, incidentally, that although Japan owed a great deal to Chinese literature and culture by this period, much of the poetry in The Anthology of Ten Thousand Leaves appears to have been written without direct reference or homage to the more...
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SOURCE: Yiu, Angela. “The Category of Metaphorical Poems (Hiyuka) in the Man'yōshū: Its Characteristics and Chinese Origins.” Journal of the Association of Teachers of Japanese 23, no. 2 (November 1989): 7-33.
[In the following essay, Yiu classifies and analyzes hiyuka poetry as found in the Man'yōshū, defining such works as highly metaphorical poems of Chinese origin but removed from their political dimension.]
Hiyuka (metaphorical poems) as a category appears in the Man'yôshû and disappears altogether in later anthologies. Its existence raises interesting questions concerning the classification of poetry at the very beginning of a long tradition of anthologization of Japanese poetry. The three major categories of poems in the Man'yôshû, zôka (miscellaneous poems), sômon (love exchanges), and banka (elegies), are classified by content, while hiyuka and two other small categories of poems, seijutsu shincho (direct expression of feelings) and kibutsu chinshi (relying on things to express thoughts), are classified by technique of expression.1 The immediate problem that arises with this system of categorization is that poems classified by content unavoidably exhibit the same kinds of literary devices used in poems classified by technique and thereby...
(The entire section is 10510 words.)
SOURCE: Keene, Donald. “The Man'yōshū and Kokinshū Collections.” In Masterworks of Asian Literature in Comparative Perspective: A Guide for Teaching, edited by Barbara Stoler Miller, pp. 363-77. Armonk, N.Y.: M. E. Sharpe, 1994.
[In the following excerpt, Keene elucidates the principal features of the Man'yōshū, including its incorporation of Chinese poetic techniques together with an aversion to Chinese words, and compares the reputations of the anthology's major contributors.]
The Man'yōshū is the first, and in the opinion of most scholars of Japanese literature, the greatest collection of Japanese poetry. The exact period of the compilation is unknown, but the last dated poem was composed in 759, and the final selection of poems probably took place soon afterwards. The name of the compiler is not given, but there is strong reason to believe that Ōtomo no Yakamochi (718?-85), an important poet and sometime governor, edited the bulk of the Man'yōshū and possibly the entire work. The last four of the twenty books of the collection are given over so largely to his poetry that they have even been called his “poem diary.”
The three characters used to write the name of the collection, man, yō, and shū, mean literally “Ten Thousand Leaves Collection,” and it has been...
(The entire section is 3275 words.)
SOURCE: Haga, Norio. “The Poetic Style of Yamanoue no Okura: With Reference to His Elegy on the Death of Furuhi.” Acta Asiatica: Bulletin of the Institute of Eastern Culture, no. 77 (July 1999): 50-73.
[In the following essay, Haga attributes three Man'yōshū elegies to a lost child to Yamanoue no Okura, and analyzes these verses in conjunction with others by Okura on similar themes.]
“THREE POEMS OF LONGING FOR THE BOY CALLED FURUHI” (ONE CHōKA AND TWO TANKA)
What worth to me the seven treasures, So prized and desired by all the world? Furuhi, born of us two, Our love, our dear white pearl, At dawn, bright with the morning star, Would never leave our bedside And, standing or sitting, frolicked with us; When dusk came with the evening star, “Let's go to bed,” he would say and take us by our hands And urge us in his lovely way, “Mother and Father, never leave my side. Let me sleep between you.” Then we trusted, as one trusts in a great ship, That he would grow up as time passed by, And we would watch him, both in weal and woe. But unexpectedly a blast of evil wind Suddenly swept over us. Not knowing what to do, I braced my sleeves with a white sash, Grasped my shining mirror, And, gazing up, appealed to the gods of heaven; Dropping down, my forehead to the ground, I pleaded with the gods of earth: “It is yours to...
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SOURCE: Kugé, Shu. “Addressing a Dead Body: From Dedication to Tele-Community.” Mosaic 34, no. 4. (December 2001): 183-98.
[In the following essay, Kugé analyzes a poem by Kakinomoto no Hitomaro (Man'yōshū no. 358) on the subject of communing with the dead.]
What does it mean to dedicate a poem to a dead body? What compels a poet to compose a poem for a corpse? A dead body's presence is haunting. Its being-there does not produce “knowledge” but a distance, both material and imaginary, which exposes us to the limit of knowledge and simultaneously to the experience of finitude. Weaving this sense of mortality into the drifting flow of language, our poet presents relationality to the dead as the promise of an open community still to come.
A dead body lies between life and death, at the undeterminable threshold, the constant risk of becoming our “it.” Every representation of this body falls short. There is only a helpless utterance, trembling, lamenting the inadequacy of representation. Our poet inscribes this lament, the sound of impossible desire of mourning, in his song of dedication. No matter how the poet tries, the dead body does not reply to his words; the body maintains a monumental silence. But the poet keeps speaking to the dead body nonetheless, for this speaking to the absolute other is the essence of poetry. If the...
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Fukuda, Hideichi. “Introduction.” Acta Asiatica: Bulletin of the Institute of Eastern Culture, no. 77 (July 1999): 1-13.
Introduction to a journal special edition that summarizes the contents of five comparative essays on the subject of the Man'yōshū's relationship to Chinese literature.
Keene, Donald. “The Man'yōshū.” In Seeds in the Heart: Japanese Literature from Earliest Times to the Late Sixteenth Century, A History of Japanese Literature, Volume 1, pp. 85-180. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1993.
Takes a closer look at some of the miscellaneous (zōka) and love (sōmonka) poetry from the Man'yōshū.
Konishi, Jin'ichi. “Waka Expression.” In A History of Japanese Literature, Volume One: The Archaic and Ancient Ages, translated by Aileen Gatten and Nicholas Teele, edited by Earl Miner, pp. 324-64. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1984.
Offers an in-depth discussion of the development of waka poetry in eighth-century Japan, with particular emphasis on the verse of Man'yō poet Hitomaro.
Levy, Ian Hideo. Introduction to The Ten Thousand Leaves: A Translation of the ‘Man'yōshū,’ Japan's Premier Anthology of Classical Poetry, translated by Ian Hideo Levy, pp. 3-33. Princeton, N.J.:...
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