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'That inward breaks, and shows no cause without, why the man dies'
(lj crawls like a crawling thing.)
Lessee- Friday's prompt, isn't this? Not what I wanted to do with it. I wanted a meditation on the fact that prissy constipated by the book Goujun has quite a number of bad-tempered shouting moments and a pretty rough way of talking, and what that might imply. Ah well.
Sometimes Gouen thinks their oldest brother never knew Goujun at all. The man he talks about is no one Gouen ever met. A model younger brother: thoughtful of Goukou's wishes, obedient to all his commands, dutiful to his elders and careful of his younger. In all ways exactly what he ought to be-- unlike, it's implied, the two brothers remaining. Who, even when they're not wilful and difficult, will still never be quite as good as Goujun was.
And Gouen wonders, Does he truly think Goujun was that? The one who refused his king and brother's invitation (ie command) to come home; the one who chose to cast his lot with the kami instead? Goukou seems to have forgotten that part. Perhaps Goukou needs to forget-- needs to see Goujun's death as all the fault of Heaven and none of Goujun's own. It lets him keep an image of Goujun that he still can love and grieve for.
Gouen can't forget. In his heart 'Goujun's absence' changes day by day into 'Goujun's betrayal.' He's unjust, and he knows he's unjust, but who is there to be hurt if he is? Goujun is gone; no one is harmed by Gouen's festering outrage and smouldering sense of being wronged. No one except Gouen himself, and Gouen knows he deserves it for his selfishness and disloyalty to his older brother.
Lessee- Friday's prompt, isn't this? Not what I wanted to do with it. I wanted a meditation on the fact that prissy constipated by the book Goujun has quite a number of bad-tempered shouting moments and a pretty rough way of talking, and what that might imply. Ah well.
Sometimes Gouen thinks their oldest brother never knew Goujun at all. The man he talks about is no one Gouen ever met. A model younger brother: thoughtful of Goukou's wishes, obedient to all his commands, dutiful to his elders and careful of his younger. In all ways exactly what he ought to be-- unlike, it's implied, the two brothers remaining. Who, even when they're not wilful and difficult, will still never be quite as good as Goujun was.
And Gouen wonders, Does he truly think Goujun was that? The one who refused his king and brother's invitation (ie command) to come home; the one who chose to cast his lot with the kami instead? Goukou seems to have forgotten that part. Perhaps Goukou needs to forget-- needs to see Goujun's death as all the fault of Heaven and none of Goujun's own. It lets him keep an image of Goujun that he still can love and grieve for.
Gouen can't forget. In his heart 'Goujun's absence' changes day by day into 'Goujun's betrayal.' He's unjust, and he knows he's unjust, but who is there to be hurt if he is? Goujun is gone; no one is harmed by Gouen's festering outrage and smouldering sense of being wronged. No one except Gouen himself, and Gouen knows he deserves it for his selfishness and disloyalty to his older brother.
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Lovely as always.
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Gouen reminds me of my father's dictum concerning the British-- 'they always had the highest and most moral reasons for doing exactly what they wanted to.' Only it's not hypocrisy. Gouen finds that the path of duty and virtue almost invariably results in gain for Gouen, which is a strong incentive to stay on the path of duty and virtue, even when it strays a leeetle from traditional definitions thereof.
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