Recently, I translated Oda Sakunosuke’s short story 『天衣無縫』(pronounced てんいむほう, tenimuho). As far as I can tell from a lot of Googling, the title hasn’t been translated into English before, except in the anime Bungo Stray Dogs. The associated light novel in which the term 天衣無縫 appears (Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era) hasn’t been released by the English rights-holders, Yen Press, but they have released most of the manga volumes in English and do publish light novels so maybe it’s on their to-do list.
The Bungo Stray Dogs universe is populated by characters based on literary figures, whose unique superhuman abilities are named after famous works by them. For example, character Osamu Dazai’s ability to nullify others’ abilities is called “No Longer Human”, and Natsume Soseki’s shapeshifting ability is “I am a Cat”. Correspondingly, the Oda Sakunosuke character’s ability to foresee the future is called, in the official English subtitles produced by Crunchyroll, “Flawless”, based on his story 『天衣無縫』. I want to propose that that’s a beautifully aesthetic translation, but not the most appropriate translation of the title of the particular work it references. It doesn’t really suit how the term relates to the Oda’s tale.
Different ways to translate the term “天衣無縫”
Weblio gives the definition of 天衣無縫 as something which is “flawlessly composed, free of labored expressions”, and someone who is “free and easy”. Dictionary.goo gives an example sentence: “He writes flawlessly, without any trace of artifice.” (彼の文には天衣無縫の趣がある。) In another example sentence, they translate is as “artlessness”. Other dictionary translations of the term have it as meaning seamless, perfect, exquisite, pure, and innocent. Essentially, it’s an idiomatic analogy describing things, people, or actions as divinely complete in and of themselves, without any sense that they’ve been crafted with intent. It’s a fairly uncommonly used term in modern Japanese.
Breaking down the term into its characters makes it easier to see just what kind of perfection it conveys: 天Heavenly, 衣Garments, 無Lack, 縫Stitching.
When applied to people, it means:
- Utterly honest, pure, and innocent. Behavior is natural, free, and lacks any sense of artifice or embellishment. It can be used to describe any person, but due to its uncommon usage, it can sometimes be taken as insulting because it implies the existence of innocence so great it suggests naivety or lack of due care, or doubt that such purity can exist. However, it’s perfectly okay to use to describe children, art, or people who are so relaxed they are true to themselves.
When applied to art (a product, practice, or action), it means:
- Completely perfect. Appears to have been formed or to occur spontaneously, with no visible trace of technical skill being applied. It is not perfection achieved though ‘masterful’ crafting, rather it perfection that defies crafting, which is accomplished only naturally, free of effort. It flows without any resistance. It can also describe something so perfect that one is driven to touch or possess it (i.e. its tactile smoothness is irresistible), or something so complete it needs no further adjustment or development. Equivalent English expression: Music of the spheres.
The term can be invoked as call to action, or description of zen philosophy: By acting in a purely natural way, you will attain heavenly characteristics, i.e. become as one with heaven. Do not add to your actions or image—stay as natural as possible.
What it means in Oda’s story
In Oda’s short story, the plot and characters are vessels for mounting imperfection and incompleteness, so in my opinion the terms “perfection” and “completion” don’t apply. “Seamlessness” does, because a central tenet of events and characters is their unimpeded naturalistic natures, but in no way does this encapsulation of seamlessness align with “flawlessness”. On the contrary, damage caused by the seamless naturalism in characters’ personalities and actions leads to their downfall. A major feature of all characters (including mains and onlookers) is problematic naivety, but also beguiling and humanistic innocence and optimism. So to me, an appropriate translation of the title is Pure, or to maintain the idiomatic form of the Japanese, Pure and Simple.
Titling it Flawless could work too, but it could only apply in a harshly ironic way, casting an even darker pall over the tale than is already there. It hammers home that the characters are not flawless, and never will be. But I want to believe there’s still some optimism left in play at the end of the story. (They’re still kids! C’mon, Oda! Damn! Have mercy!) And Pure and Simple still bears the weight of ironic melancholy, but also suggests resignation, alludes to innocence, and absolves the characters of their accountability in blindly engineering their tragic outcome – like, c’est la vie.
In the end I’ve gone with Unadulterated as the title. It means pure, it suggests an absence of an agent of change, and ‘un-adult’ suggests immaturity (which is important to the story, despite not being an imperative element of 天衣無縫). If you can think of something better, please tell me!
Etymology: Why is it heavenly/garments/lack/stitching?
In East Asia in the middle ages, knowledge of astronomy was prized as a means to:
- determine the calendar;
- understand seasons, which impacted the success or failure of the government;
- rationalize hierarchical structures as well as actions and patterns of behavior in human society.
In Japan’s ancient Official Book of Heaven, Orihime, daughter of Tentei (God/the universe itself) was heaven’s weaver, who spent all day weaving cloth on the banks of the Amanogawa river (the Milky Way). She was so skilled and in demand that she grew sad, having no time to find a husband. Her father found for her Hikoboshi, a cow-herder from the other side of the river, and the two were wedded.
Once married, however, the two neglected their work. Orihime did not weave, and Hikoboshi’s cattle strayed across the universe. Tentei ordered they be separated, and only meet for one midsummer’s eve a year. When the day came, Orihime found there was still no bridge across the river, and cried miserably. Flocks of sympathetic magpies then formed a bridge, allowing her to cross.
Thus every July 7, when Orihime (Vega, the brightest star in the constellation Lyra) and Hikoboshi (Altair, he brightest star in the constellation Aquila) meet in the night sky over the northern hemisphere, Japan celebrates the Tanabata Festival by making wishes. Sadly, if on that day it rains, the magpies will not come to forge the bridge and so the celestial couple can’t meet that year.
In China, the addendum story developed from which the term 天衣無縫 was birthed. The story was included a book of Chinese legends complied by Lee Ho in 925-996; the term was adopted into Japanese lexicon sometime thereafter.
In the time of the Tang dynasty lived Guo Han, a young man who was raised as an orphan. He was nonetheless well educated and a gifted calligrapher, and spoke refreshingly, testament to his remaining pure of heart and mind, unstained by vulgarity. Each summer evening, he would go out into the garden of the house where he lived along and recline on a settee, indulging in the cool air.
One evening, as he was watching the sky, a deeply fragrant aroma wafted across his garden. It grew stronger and stronger until, to his surprise, two handmaids slowly descended from the clear sky, followed by an uncommonly beautiful, yet modestly dressed woman. She wore a thin, white silk shawl which hung like frost over her black silk kimono. On her head was a crown featuring two green wing feathers of a Phoenix, and she wore embroidered shoes which were made from clouds. Her handmaids were similarly attired, and all three seemed to glitter ethereally.
Guo Han leaped up, straightened his clothes, raced toward her, and fell at her feet in reverence. “I beseech you, please accept my gratitude for the blessing you have kindly bestowed upon my home through your presence.”
The woman smiled and introduced herself. As well as being beautiful, her movements were full of grace. “I am heaven’s weaver. It’s been so long since I was last parted from my husband, and I am in agony with loneliness, so the Emperor gave me leave to come to this world. I am pleased to find you, who is untainted despite going through as much as you have. Perchance will you make a contract with me?”
Guo Han agreed, saying, “I am deeply moved by your unexpected invitation.”
The woman ordered the two maids to purify his room. They spread out a scroll with fine vermilion lettering, laid out crystals, and set up a fan which cast a breeze through the room reminiscent of autumn winds. Guo Han’s hand was taken by the woman, who disrobed and brought him to a single round dragon pillow atop a futon patterned with an embroidery sewn with two threads. They spent the night together in an affectionate embrace, in which her skin was soft and smooth, and her manner kind, but not incomparable, for he was as gentle as she was. Come morning, he kept a stoic expression when the three women left.
From then on, the maids and she would come to his house every night, and return to heaven each dawn. A scent as beautiful as the women pervaded his house day and night.
One day, Guo Han inquired about her husband. The woman responded that the couple were separated by the Milky Way, and that he need not fear any retribution. Come midsummer, she disappeared for several days. When she returned to Guo Han, she told him not to be jealous, nor worry, but that affairs in heaven were beyond his comprehension. He accepted this, then asked why she’d been away from him as long as she had; she replied that five days in his world were but one night in heaven.
Another day, he noticed that there were no seams or hems in any of their clothes and asked why. The woman answered, “Our clothes are made of clouds, which gather freely and naturally around one’s body when we come down to your world, without need of needles and threads.”
He asked her too about life in heaven. She responded that whilst people could see only pinpricks of stars when looking up, the skies were filled with chambers, houses, and gods, in manners reflected in Guo Han’s world. Both worlds reflected and shaped one another. “When you look at your world, you will understand.”
Eventually, one full year had passed since Guo Han had formed the contract with her. On that night, she grasped his hand with uncharacteristic urgency and tears in her eyes. “The Emperor’s leave has come to an end, and come morning we must part forever.” They spent the night awake, chastely each other’s hands, weeping in sorrow. When the sky turned pale, she hugged him and gave him a bowl of tobacco. He gave her the gift of a ball. He stared as she ascended, not stopping waving until long after she’d disappeared. He was wretchedly heartsick until, one year to the day after she’d last left, one of her handmaids brought him a letter from her. Reading it forced him to forget all about Orihime. That year, court documents showed the light of her star was invisible for a short while.
Thereafter, Guo Han struggled to find satisfaction in any woman. He reluctantly married to keep his family line going, but his heart stayed cold, precipitating an unhappy marriage in which his wife never bore children. However, he had a successful career as a bureaucrat investigating illegalities perpetrated by officials.
Altair/the cow-herder (top left bright star) separated from Vega/Princess Orihime (lower center bright star) by the river of the Milky Way. They reach at their closest approach to one another in the northern hemisphere in midsummer.
Sources
http://teru.fan.coocan.jp/yoji/tenimuhou.html
https://melma.com/backnumber_43686_4528082/
https://archives.mag2.com/0000145413/20060706173331000.html
http://www.katch.ne.jp/~kojigai/tenimuhou.html
http://kotowaza-allguide.com/te/tenimuhou.html
https://kotobank.jp/word/%E5%A4%A9%E8%A1%A3%E7%84%A1%E7%B8%AB-577483
Translations from Japanese 