Talk:Kiyohime

Surprise, Once Again, A Non-Referenced, Poorly Written Japanese Mythology Entry

Do people at Wiki hate Japanese Mythology so much that c*ap like this can be passed off as research? At some point someone needs to say "stop, you're doing it wrong." And yet, no one does. Is this a reflection of the amateurish nature of most editors? How does anything in the Kiyohime article reflect the serious nature Kami? It doesn't, because as far as I can tell 99% of these articles have been written by people who not only have never spent any time in Japan, but seem to be obsessed with anime and manga as their only source in reference. If you were an English Comp. student I'd fail you back to kindergarten, because, that's where articles like this belong. Duende-Poetry (talk) 17:18, 28 November 2011 (UTC)

I have a copy of this story.

The summary given is far from the original. The monk does not fall in love with this woman. He lies that he loves her (in order to get away), carries on his journey, and claims he will return to her on his way back. When he doesn't, she turns into a snake and gives chase. There's no mention of a boat at all. I'm curious where the summary of this article came from.

At a time now past, there were two monks on pilgrimage to Kumano. One was well along in years; the other was young and extraordinarily good-looking. When they came to Muro District, the two of them rented lodgings and settled down for the night. The owner of the house was a widow and young, with three maids her only companions. When this woman saw the handsome young monk who had taken lodgings with her, her lustful desires were deeply aroused. She tended assiduously to his comfort. Night fell, and the monk went to bed. At midnight she secretly crept to where the young monk was sleeping, covered him with her dress, and lay down beside him. She nudged him awake; he opened his eyes in fright and confusion. "I never give lodging to travelers," said the woman, "but I let you stay here tonight because from the time I first saw you, this afternoon, I have longed to make you my spouse. I thought that by taking you in for the night I would achieve my aim, and now I have come to you. My husband is dead and I am a widow. Take pity on me!" Hearing her, the monk got up terrified. He replied, "I have a long-standing vow; in accordance with it, in recent days I have purified myself in mind and body and set out on the distant journey to present myself before the deity of Kumano. Should I carelessly break my vow here, the consequences would be dreadful for both of us. Abandon all such thoughts at once." He refused with all the strength at his command. The woman was greatly vexed, and all night long she kept embracing him and teasing and fondling him. The monk tried this argument and that argument to soothe her. "It is not that I refuse, my lady. But just now I'm on a pilgrimage to Kumano. I'll spend a few days there offering lamps and paper strips. Then, when I've turned homeward, I will do as you ask," he promised. The woman believed him and went back to her own bed. At daybreak the monks left the house and set out for Kumano.

The woman reckoned up the day of his promised return. She could think of nothing but her love for the monk and made all sorts of preparations in anticipation. But turning homeward, he stayed away for fear of her; he took a road she did not expect him to take and thus slipped past. Celynn (talk) 20:05, 2 April 2013 (UTC)