Nirvana’s Not Just a Punk Rock Band

bout de papier, Vol. 32, No. 3 (2023), pp. 40–43

They sat at a window table in Safi’s, overlooking Saffron Street.

A young man on an electric unicycle glided past banks of sun-splashed daffodils. Ludwig sipped a double espresso. Leo was alternating a kumquat smoothie with marshmallow macaroons.

HE SAID, “SO STING WANTED to do a retrospective CD for chanty – this was back when CDs were a thing but Stewart and Andy had other gigs. so Sting, he recorded a bunch of their old songs by himself. faking their parts and overdubbing.” Ludwig replied. “Ifyou say ‘He do The Police in different voices’, I will probably hit you.” Leo grinned, “Wouldn’t think of it.”

A silver-haired man in white robes appeared in the chair beside Ludwig. He said calmly, “I am quite sure that both T.S. Eliot and Charles Dickens would object as well, but I can check the next time I see them.”

Ludwig said, “Since you don’t appear to be joking, I assume you are the Taoist immortal that Shamus Dikk asked us to meet here.” “Correct. My name is Yi Xing. I am on a mission from the August Personage of Jade and I need your help. Including your brother’s. The Jade Emperor made that clear.” He looked doubtfully at Leo, who was dunking a macaroon in Ludwig’s espresso.

Ludwig nodded, “Shamus vouched for you, so we’ll listen. What is this mission?” Yi Xing folded his hands. “My gratitude. To explain, I must go back some centuries, into a different reality. You may find it hard to accept.” “Great,” exclaimed Leo. “Cue the Twilight Zone theme. It’s been getting dull around here.”

“Very well. In the Lotus Sutra is the story of Ryünyo. daughter of the dragon king Sagara. She achieved enlightenment under the guidance of Bodhisattva Manjushri and sought Buddhahood. This was opposed by the Bodhisattva Wisdom Accumulated, who said that women could not reach that level. Ryünyo provided a brilliant exposition of the sutras, offered a priceless dragon pearl to the Buddha, changed herself into a man and transcended. She has became one of the religion’s great teachers.”

“So much is clear from the Sutra. What came after is less well known. In your mundane world, the debate over the ability of women to achieve Buddhahood has swung toward acceptance. In the celestial sphere, the debate continues fiercely. with Ryünyo and Manjushri facing off with Wisdom Accumulated and his disciples. As if reflecting this, the pearl has developed a large crack.”

“Recently. events above have moved in Ryiinyo’s direction. She has prepared a great ritual to confirm women’s equality before Buddha. And restore her preferred gender. But to carry it out, she needs the fractured pearl. And no one knows where it is.”

Ludwig interjected, “I’m guessing that’s where we you — and maybe we come in.” “Yes. The antagonists needed a neutral investigator. Both factions want the pearl. one to revise the original settlement, the other to reverse it by destroying the gem.”

“The pearl rested for a long time in a Zen monastery in Kyoto. In the early 1960s of your timeline, the divine disagreement spilled over to the mundane side and it was sent for safekeeping to a monastery in Califomia. After 30 years, though, the earthly agents of Wisdom Accumulated were closing in. In 1999, it vanished. The abbott’s assistant, a monk named Jikan, disappeared at the same time. Many believe he has the pearl. but no one knows where he is. The pearl is sheltered by a special glamour in your world. Not even the gods can detect it.”

“Then how are we expected to find it?” “Someone offered to help. It is dark. so we can meet him now. He has been dead for almost 300 years, so he prefers the night. If you are willing.”

Ludwig shook his head. “Against my better judgement … but the cause is good. Leo?” Right on, good cause. I can skip my tuba lesson.”

They went out onto Saffron Street and Yi Xing led them west under a dusky moon. Two houses down, he slipped into the forecourt of a darkened residence. They moved around the side onto a garden with a wall of doors on three sides. Doors of all kinds: wooden and metal, ornate and shabby, suburban ordinary and palace fancy. solid and windowed and screened, all set upright on the ground, tightly Joined edge to edge.

The immortal approached an unpainted cedar door in a red frame. Leo said, “That door goes nowhere except maybe into the parking lot next door.” Yi Xing replied, “My jade key may help.” Pulling a small object from the pouch at his belt, he touched it to the knob. The door opened a few inches. The cry of cicadas. The immortal pushed it open and went through. Ludwig squared his shoulders and followed. So did Leo, tripping over the sill.

They stood before an oriental temple, its white walls and steep black-tiled roofs half-hidden among trees. “Sengakuji. in Tokyo,” said Yi Nine Teco said. “Very funny, Scotty, now beam down my clothes!” The immortal turned to Ludwig. “Does your brother often make incomprehensible cultural references?” “Constantly. Just don’t get him started on Leonard Cohen his latest obsession.”

The immortal led them to a stone-paved courtyard enclosed by a low wooden wall with tens of identical gravestones around its inner face. “Here since the 18th century lie buried the bodies of the 47 loyal Samurai who avenged the execution of their master, Daimyo Asano of Ako, by invading the mansion of his accuser, Lord Kira, cutting off his head and delivering it to their master’s grave. They did not try to evade capture. Many Samurai of the day applauded their loyalty but the Shogun made them commit seppuku, which they did without demur. All except one, the young Terasaka Kichiemon, who was either sent back to report to Asano’s family in Ako before the rest surrendered or cut and ran. Curiously, he was not prosecuted by the Shogun when he did surface, nor allowed to commit seppuku.”

“Whatever the story behind the separation from his 46 sworn brothers, it must have been serious. They rest in peace, but he has haunted this temple since his death in 1747. He is the one who made contact with word he had news of the pearl.”

He pulled a small stick from his belt-pouch and stuck it in a stone bow] of fine sand. “Incense.” he said. “It calls the spirits.” He touched a finger to the top of the stick and it started to smoke. “I invoke you, Terasaka Kichiemon. We are here. The fractured pearl must be retumed.”

A ghostly form took shape under the eaves. A spirit in ragged clothes of another time. His hair was long. face lined. eyes mournful. He approached sweeping the path with a straw broom. “My lord, I report for duty. May my service be accepted.” The immortal replied, “You have served well these many years, guarding the graves of your comrades, whose loyalty is legendary.” The ghost flinched. Yi Xing went on, “Now you may be able to help us find the dragon’s pearl. You will not go unrewarded.”

“There is only one reward I seek, which no-one can grant me. But I gladly help a just cause. A few years ago as the living count it, I was visited by a tall Zen monk from another house. He said he was the guardian of a magical pearl, one that must stay hidden. He was not worried it would be found by the unworthy. But he was dying and had to leave a trail for the gem’s rightful finders when the right time came. ! would know that time when a crane flew across the full moon at sunset. and I could summon the pearl’s finders by burning sandalwood and cinnamon in the incense bowl under that same moon. This all happened three days ago.”

He pulled a small scroll from his rags. “Here is the monk’s last message.” He handed it to the immortal, who bowed, unrolled the scroll, frowned and handed it to Ludwig. “We have clearly reached the bend in the road where your navigation is required. What do you make of this?”

Ludwig examined it and said. “It is a cypher, a simple number-for-letter substitution. The first column here seems to be song lyrics. I would guess the number-sequences in the second column are the related song titles. Filling in the blanks should give you the number-letter correspondences. which you use in the message above. The bad news is I have no idea on the source of the lyrics.”

Leo looked over his shoulder. “No problem, bro. They’re all from Leonard Cohen’s albums.” Yi Xing looked at him appraisingly. Ludwig asked Leo to spell out the titles. Soon they had deciphered the message.

“Ok,” said Ludwig. “We need to go to the monastery Jikan left 25 years ago. Can you get us there, Yi Xing?” “Of course.” Thanking the ghost, they returned to the garden. Yi Xing crossed to a door of rough salt-stained planks and opened it with his jade key. Soon they stood in a large but austere Buddhist hall, facing a large but austere abbott in saffron robes. “The story of the pearl was handed down by my predecessor, who was Jikan’s abbott. I am afraid you will be disappointed. Jikan’s room has been searched many times. Including by a group of celestial beings I have no desire to meet again in this life or the next.”

He showed them into a small cell. “It has been left untouched since Jikan’s departure, by the old abbott’s orders and mine.” The room was panelled with pale wood, one panel painted with the words “Make me one with everything”. The floor was covered in tightly woven straw mats. Worktables held numerous religious texts, three small stone Buddhas, a wooden mallet, and a bowl of white sand. From a wooden rack under the window hung three bells of what had been five; the others lay on the floor. Yi Xing nodded at Ludwig. “Go ahead.”

Ludwig picked up the mallet and struck the three bells. Their soft notes lingered. He approached the painted panel and put his hand on the final word. He spoke the last line of Jikan’s message. The panel cracked under his hand and pulled back on both sides. A brilliant light filled the room. On a deep red cushion rested a giant pearl, its lustre rich, one side marred by a jagged scar. Yi Xing picked it up reverently. “We would best deliver this to the Bodhisattva before it gathers much celestial attention. We will not need the garden. The pearl knows where to go.” He scattered sand from the bowl on the gem and California disappeared.

Under their feet was a white sand beach fringed with palms and calm water. Three figures awaiting them in rich robes. In the centre a slender androgynous presence in white. A tall aesthetic man smiled on the left and a huge man scowled on the right. Leo looked at the last of these and muttered, “Geez, he’s got more chins than the Taipei phonebook.” The corners of Yi Xing’s mouth twitched.

The immortal bowed to the figure in the centre. “Celestial brightness, I return your pearl.” “Revered immortal, you have our gratitude. Not just for me, although I will be glad to return to my true self, but for all women whose aspiration to Buddhahood has too long been thwarted by what mortals call the patriarchy. Our pleasure will be made known to the August Personage.” She took the pearl. It gave a low throbbing sound and the crack healed.

Yi Xing said, “Celestial lady, I present two mortals instrumental in the recovery.” Ryünyo smiled at them. “You have helped right a great wrong. How can I reward you?” Ludwig replied, “The honour of serving you is enough, and the memory of your grace. Besides, as a civil servant I’m not allowed to accept foreign emoluments.” Leo put his hand up and said, “Yes, there is something you can do for me.” Yi Xing and Ludwig frowned but Ryünyo put her hand under his chin and searched his face. “Ah yes, I see. I accept your plea.”

Not long after, she, the immortal and the brothers were in the moonlit courtyard of the Sengakuji. Yi Xing lit more incense and invoked Kichiemon. The ragged ghost appeared, leaning on his broom. “The pearl has been returned, my lord? That is good to know. And gracious of you to inform this humble person.” The immortal replied, “We are here for more than that.” He intoned, “I invoke you, Oishi Kuranosuke, and your comrades.” The ghost fell to his knees and cried out, “No! No!”

From among the gravestones came rows and rows of ghosts, in sparkling lacquer armour of black and red, crested helmets on their heads and swords at their waists. Their leader stepped forward, “Who dares disturbs our rest and why? I will have answers or there will be vengeance.” Ludwig turned to Leo, “You’re up, kid. Knock ’em dead.”

Leo started, “Respected samurai. You are famous for your loyalty. And you earned the rep. But one of you got left behind. Kichiemon over there. I don’t know what happened…” The samurai leader interjected, “We didn’t leave him, he left us when things got tough.” “Well maybe he did, but he was a scared kid caught up in a fight with some of the toughest soldiers in the world.” Kichiemon was kneeling stiffly on his heels, his face a rigid mask.

Leo continued. “He lived 50 years in disgrace. He died and couldn’t rest even then. He wasn’t allowed to join you. That’s harsh. So he spent centuries guarding your graves instead. You are all about loyalty. He has been loyal to you.”

After a pause, Oishi said, “We never forbade him to join us. Hatred of himself made it so. He felt so unworthy that he couldn’t move on.”

Leo held up a hand. “Well now he has done something worthy. If he hadn’t kept the faith, we would be nowhere. So I am asking you to take him in. And telling Kichiemon it’s time.” Ryünyo spoke, “Be it so. Pride and regret are two of the toughest barriers to enlightenment.”

Oishi rolled his shoulders and strode over to the kneeling figure. “All right, enough talk. Are you ready, Terasaka Kichiemon? If so, stand up and follow me. We need to get you some decent armour.” Kichiemon rose, walked over to the Samurai and bowed. They bowed back.

Yi Xing and Ryünyo vanished to their celestial destinations. As the brothers reached the door back into the garden, Leo turned to Ludwig. “Just for the record, how was I supposed to knock ’em dead? A bit late, no?”

Can you can you duplicate the brothers’ feat and provide the text for Jikan’s enciphered message? Send your answer to [email protected]. bout de papier will award a book prize signed by A Aalto to the submitter of the first correct answer drawn from a hat on December 1, 2023. Not necessary for winning, but can you also name the 10 song titles? And who was Jikan anyway?