Week 7 Storytelling: The Poetess Princess

Her life seemed like a fairytale. She was the beautiful child of Prince Toyonari Fujiwara and Princess Murasaki, two loving, kind people who treated their daughter with great affection and respect. What more could a little girl ask for? Everything was wonderful for little Princess Hase-Hime, until that time came to a fleeting stop when she was only five years of age and her mother fell ill, her time cut short in this world.

Hase-Hime was left with her mother’s dying wishes to become a strong, obedient girl. When her father remarried a noble woman, Princess Terute, and took her and her son into their home, Princess Murasaki’s request would be put to the test, for Princess Terute was an evil woman with a heart of cruelty and jealousy for the little girl that was not hers.

“Hase-Hime, after dinner you will finish your chores. Clean the dishes, mop the floors, do the laundry, and go to bed afterwards. You will have more to do tomorrow,” Princess Terute smugly commanded.

Confused, Hase-Hime responded, “But Stepmother, I already mopped the floors.”

“Well do it again and do not call me Stepmother! You are no child of mine.”

And so Hase-Hime obeyed, mopping the floors a second time, cleaning the dishes, doing the laundry, and retiring to bed. In her bedroom far from the halls of her parents and sibling, she dabbled in poetry and music. It was a comfort to her to be able to record her prayers and ideas in the arts and she excelled at it quickly from a young age. When her Stepmother forgot her existence on busy days, Hase-Hime spent hours practicing with her Father on the koto, a Japanese harp, and in perfecting her poetic verses. By the time she was twelve, she was a master in both and word of her grand performances reached even the most royal of places, the Emperor in the Palace.

To be requested to play before him was a dream for little Hase-Hime, but it was a dream none-the-less and often remained so. Princess Terute had dreams of her own and far more power to carry them out. Escorted by her Stepmother to the Palace, Hase-Hime fell in awe at the splendor of the architecture and the pure essence of the noble realm. Musicians played in the courtyards, royal children frolicked in the gardens, and the sun overhead twinkled down on everything in a way she had never imagined possible.

They were lead to the audience chamber where the Emperor sat idly on his throne. Princess Terute bowed deeply to him and following her example, Hase-Hime complied.

“I have brought her, your Highness. She is a fine musician and poetess and will be an excellent addition to your entertainment,” Princess Terute said.

“And what say her father? He has agreed to her release to my command?” The Emperor inquired, much to Hase-Hime’s surprise.

“Of course, Majesty. The paperwork is all here.”

After the exchange of paperwork, Princess Terute gave her stepchild one final glance with victory gleaming in her eyes. Without so much as a smile, she turned and departed from the audience chamber, leaving Hase-Hime stranded before the will of the Emperor. Her dream was shattered, the realization of what this all meant dawning upon her as she was led away to a new home in the highest tower in the farthest corner of the Palace.

There, Hase-Hime performed her arts for many years. She perfected her harp playing and although she was never allowed to play for an audience herself, she wrote songs for the courtyard musicians to play in order to honor the Emperor. Her poetry was read far and wide, epics that would forever be remembered even past her time, but it was not for her to read, only hers to write. The Emperor had seized her talents for his own, selfish use, but she had grown to be an obedient, strong girl as her mother had wished.

Her family did not visit. They did not write. Hase-Hime often wondered about her father, whether he was safe and happy. In another world, perhaps her mother would have lived and they could have all lived together as a happy family. Perhaps her poetry and her music would have been hers alone, to give to the world, to create happiness in people’s lives. But it was not another world she lived in, for Hase-Hime was born to this world full of greed and cruelty and she was a slave to the master of her chains. She was born a beautiful flower, but envied and put in a glass case.

On the nights she felt alone and sad with tears in her eyes, void of hope, she would sit at the single window of her small room and look up at the stars, so bright in the open night sky. She would do as her mother often did and whisper a prayer to them, longing for their protection.

“Please save me,” she prayed softly.

Thus, the constellation of Princess Hase-Hime was formed, forever imprinted in the night sky.

The Hase-Hime Constellation.

(Image Information: "Golden Time" by Jinterwas. Web Source: Flickr.)

Author’s Note: In the original of The Story of PrincessHase, Hase-Hime does lose her mother and her father remarries an evil woman who treats her poorly. But Hase-Hime is a kind and wonderful girl, excelling in poetry and music, so she bares her stepmothers cruelty with respect. After she excels in the arts, the story ends with the Emperor summoning her to the Palace to play. I changed the ending of the story in order to put this in my storybook, where the princess does not have a happy ending.

Bibliography: “The Story of Princess Hase.” Japanese Fairy Tales by Yei Theodora Ozaki (1908). Web Source: Here.