《源氏物语》中《末摘花》之章与平安时期的宫廷生活（下篇）(3)

When the princess is obliged to make an aesthetic decision, her lack of taste is obvious. The princess’ poems, for example, are written on singularly unsuitable notepaper: not only is it discolored and puffy with age, it tends to be the kind of no-nonsense paper used for court documents and business letters. Her poetic diction is clumsy and overly observant of literary primers; her handwriting is strongly characteristic of early tenth-century styles. Having glanced at the first of the princess’ letters, Genji “let it fall. It was not worth looking at” (14: 252). (Gatten, “Weird Ladies”)
Gatten further describes how these factors, as well as a character’s handwriting, are described in such detail that they can be used as direct reflections of a character’s personality (Gatten, “Weird Ladies”). Therefore, the safflower princess comes across as off putting based on the social incongruities her missives contain. 
One of the most important attributes about the chapter is the safflower princess’ shyness. This character trait is received poorly by Genji and those involved in the chapter. Shyness isn’t valued; there seems to be a certain amount of poise and refinement that Heian women were expected to exhibit, and shyness means that these attributes are inhibited. Not only was she expected to engage with the two men, but she was expected to be able to convey thoughts and emotions subtly, implying that cleverness grace and sharp wit were also valued assets. Murasaki explains how Genji “told her how much she had been in his thoughts over the months. The muteness seemed if anything more unsettling from near at hand than from afar” (Murasaki, The Tales of Genji). Genji, upon his first formal meeting with the princess, becomes so aggravated by her silence that even he breaks social protocol by opening her sliding door. Her shyness is to such an excessive degree that it is harmful to her image.