The tears of Lady Nijo

Consistent with this animal-reminder account of disgust is the fact that there is only one body product that is not regarded as disgusting by Americans, or by many other peoples: tears. (Imagine that you lend your handkerchief to an acquaintance, who returns it wet with mucous, urine, sweat, saliva, breast milk, semen, or tears. In which case would you be least uncomfortable?) Ortner (1973) has pointed out that tears are a uniquely human product, while all other secretions and excretions link us to animals. Unlike most body products, tears are more frequently referred to in poetry than in "dirty" jokes.

(Haidt, Rozin, McCauley, Imada: The Relationship Between Disgust and Morality)

I recently read The Confession of Lady Nijo, the memoirs of a Japanese woman of the Kamakura period who was an imperial concubine, and later became a buddhist nun. It was a glimpse of an alien worldview and way of life; in particular I found the manner in which people construed the dramas and sorrows of their lives according to their buddhist beliefs very interesting. For example, they may interpret a powerful but forbidden romantic attraction as a karmic bond established in a previous life.

One thing I didn't like about the book is that it is interspersed with short poems of varying quality, mostly bad. Apparently, it was a custom to produce poems on social occasions, like farewells and the like. These poems use (and abuse) the image of tear-stained sleeves to signify sorrow. Like this:

If I could compare

Sleeves stained by tears

Of fretful worry, yours and mine

Whose would be damper?

It really gets jarring after a while. One pictures these poor people prancing around with their sleeves always uncomfortably wet, and wishes to hand them a handkerchief.