Conversation with Murasaki
Tom Lowenstein, 14 December 2006
“... Murasaki – I imagined a dye the colour of mulberries. A burnet moth’s underwing. She brushes past Sei Shonagon. Sleeves in tension. Both brushes charged with silken resistance. When she sang it was brocade. When she modestly whispered, a most delicate embroidery. ‘Her sash matched her robe. But did you notice the lining of her sleeve? I could have laughed all evening!’ The wisteria in its tub, whose ancient stem and transient clusters you comprehended clearly, but which you did not know how to prune ... ”