Parrots in the Pillow Book

鳥は 異所のものなれど、鸚鵡、いとあはれなり。人の言ふことをまねぶらむよ

The Pillow Book 枕草子 (~1002) is one of the great works of classical Japanese literature. Written by Sei Shonagon 清少納言, who was a court lady serving the Empress Teishi (Sadako), the book is filled with lists and musings that continue to delight over a thousand years later. Because it is a meandering compilation of musings and opinions, some people refer to its author as the world’s first blogger.

Her list of birds surprisingly begins with parrots.

鳥は 異所のものなれど、鸚鵡、いとあはれなり。人の言ふことをまねぶらむよ

Although parrots are not native to our country, they are much loved. I hear they are able to imitate people’s speech.

My favorite translator of The Pillow Book Ivan Morris renders this in English as if the lady has seen the bird: The parrot does not belong to our country, but I like it very much. I am told it imitates the whatever people say. I think this is probably a mistake.

Here is a translation into modern Japanese:

＝鳥は、異国のものだけれど、オウムがたいそう趣深い。人の言うようなことを真似るということだよ.

It seems incredible that a parrot found its way to Japan in the early 10th century. Scholars think the parrot she is writing about arrived from Korea. A precious and costly gift. According to the Nihon Shoki (8th century) 『日本書紀』such birds were given as gifts from Silla and Baekje (kingdoms on the Korean Peninsula). I am not sure how the birds arrived in Korea though—perhaps they came via Europe into China and then on to Korea—though it is hard to know without understanding the particular breed.

It reminds me of a great essay I read last year in the New Yorker by staff writer Rebecca Mead that explores how an Australian white cockatoo found its way into a painting by Andrea Mantegna. Like a lot of people, I have stood in front of Mantegna’s Madonna della Vittoria. in the Louvre many times and never once stopped to consider how a white cockatoo made it into an Italian painting, not four years after Columbus sailed to the New World.

The white parrot was not alone either, as two other parrots are perched on the trellis above the enthroned Virgin. I had noticed the birds, but never stopped to think about their species or habitat. My favorite Venetian painter Carpaccio is famous for his wonderful red parrots —something that so captivated John Ruskin.

In the article, I learned that the white parrot is a Sulphur-Crested Cockatoo, a bird that can only be found in Australia, New Guinea, and some of the islands of Indonesia.

People are often surprised when I tell them that we have peacocks, red-whiskered bulbuls, and great flocks of parrots in Pasadena, California. Escaped pets and songbirds, their beautiful singing (bulbuls), and not-so-beautiful screaming (peacocks) and squawking (parrots) dominate the soundscape. People have traded in exotic spices since ancient times, so why not parrots?

Picture below taken this morning…