The Pillow Book
Sei Shōnagon(1002)
Extract
In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful. In summer the nights.
A lady-in-waiting at the Heian court compiles lists of hateful things, splendid things, things that quicken the heart, and between these catalogues records moments of such crystalline observation that a thousand years dissolve and the reader stands beside her watching charcoal turn to white ash. Sei Shōnagon composed this miscellany around 1002, and its form, a gathering of lists, anecdotes, and lyric descriptions governed by no principle except sensibility, anticipates the essay by five centuries. She is witty, imperious, and unforgiving of dullness. The prose moves by association rather than argument, and its pleasure is that of a mind finding the world endlessly, almost unbearably, interesting. Nothing is systematic. Everything is alive.
If you loved this
Murasaki writes from the same Heian court with the same eye for beauty, but in waves where Sei Shōnagon writes in splinters.
Pessoa keeps the same kind of diary a millennium later: the same attention to sensation, the same loneliness disguised as observation.
Montaigne invents the European equivalent of Sei Shōnagon's method: the wandering mind as literary form.