This experiment in grasping the figure of Kaoru from the perspective of literary artifice rather than psychology has highlighted several distinct differences between Part Three of the tale and the two parts that precede it. It has argued that Part Three develops the motif of surrogacy beyond anything seen earlier and gives it a new character that tends to depersonalize the surrogate. It has discussed the characters’ isolation from one another and suggested a connection between this isolation and plot manipulation by the author. It has also detected in the Uji chapters a recurring flavor of mocking humor. In Kaoru’s case it has analyzed the isolation even of separate aspects of the same character and treated it as a technique designed to achieve ever-renewed pathetic effects. Finally, it has similarly interpreted Kaoru’s vacillation between religious aspiration and erotic desire less as a searching treatment of this theme than as a device to heighten his sentimental appeal, and it has noted that this vacillation continues unchanged all the way to the end of the book.

In contrast, Parts One and Two follow the trajectory of a hero’s life shaped from within and without not only by the background passage of the years, but by such integrated issues as pride, ambition, desire, and ever-changing public as well as private circumstance. Unlike Genji, Kaoru never engages visibly in any political or interpersonal struggle, even with his rival Niou, and his position at court (to which he repeatedly professes indifference) is never threatened. As presented to the reader, he has no ambition; he merely floats upward. Good intentions or not, his pride shows more in petulance than in magnificence. Knowing that the Eighth Prince’s two recognized daughters far outrank unrecognized Ukifune, he treats Ukifune accordingly. Even from Ōigimi, however, he has neither political nor material advantage to gain. She has no relationship to his society, hence no practical standing in it and no wealth.^[67] His interest in her lacks all the grosser elements that give substance to Genji’s affairs. In this way his private troubles are utterly sequestered from his public world, and with them the author beads the thread of a life that simply runs on passively with time.

This reading of Kaoru by no means achieves a comprehensive grasp of the elusive subject it set out to discuss, and it claims to convey only one possible perspective among many. There are more intriguing things about Part Three than any single study could conceivably acknowledge. A few emerged in “The Possibility of Ukifune,” and “Pity Poor Kaoru” has brought out a few more. However, the character of Part Three, and the relationship between the separate parts of the tale, will always remain a matter of debate.