THE BOOK OF INCENSE, by Kiyoko Morita. Tokyo/New York/London: Kodansha International, 2006, 136 pp., illustrations XX, 1,600 yen (paper)

Incense came early to Japan. According to the fifth-century "Nihonshoki" (Chronicles of Japan), a whole aloeswood tree drifted ashore at Awaji. When the fisherfolk burned it, the smoky perfume eventually attracted the attention of Prince Shotaku. From there it was but a step into Buddhism, the sacred purposes of which incense still serves.

At the same time, a secular use was also found. The court took up what the church had sanctioned, and shortly incense fumed at hearth and home. The 11th-century "Tale of Genji" makes frequent references to it. The Shining Prince, Genji himself, encounters it first in a temple, then takes it back and domesticates it. Shortly we find him scenting his robes by holding a small, smoking brazier under each sleeve.

The first imperial poetry collection, the 10th-century "Kokinshu," spoke of "that fragrance more alluring than color" and even the very particular Heian Period author Sei Shonagon included scented robes in her "Pillow Book" listing of things more pleasant than not.

Shortly a number of palace activities centered around incense could be observed. Courtiers would bring various samples and make each other guess what they were. This occasioned some difficulty, since by now nearly 2,500 varieties had been recognized. In addition, there were various recondite combinations, and elaborate diversions were invented, such as blending different scents to create the atmosphere of a particular literary work. That involving the "Kokinshu" called for some 700 different types of incense.

In the "Umegae" chapter of the "Genji," we find the prince hard at work in a deeply curtained room. In the Seidensticker translation, "he turned with great concentration to blending two perfumes according to formulas which . . . had been handed down in secret from the days of the Emperor Nimmyo."

More and more elaborate became the proper necessities. As in the analogous tea ceremony, various instruments (many of them made of gold or silver) were called for. Diverse formalities were developed and a proper name for the activity was created: kodo. Eventually even the act of smelling became too common. Instead one "listened" to incense.

Such ceremonial excess is perhaps what eventually did kodo in. Despite later popularity, in particular during the Genroku Era (1688-1704), and notwithstanding the attentions of such important social figures as Oda Nobunaga, interest in incense-smelling declined to the low level it occupies today.

The tea ceremony, however, is still with us, and there are many other examples of such fossilization. One wonders, then, why kodo seems to have more or less vanished. One reason might be that, like many such diversions in this country, it became too openly competitive. Another might be that after its stylishness wore off, it began to look effete to a rising middle class.

Yet, as Kiyoko Morita's book indicates, there still remains a public for it. Originally published in 1992, this volume came out in paperback in 1999, and is now available in its first trade paperback edition. There is some difference among these (the latest edition refers to "color plates" on the contents page, but they are now all monochrome), but no apparent updating. The latest date in the bibliography is 1990.

So, enough copies have been sold to convince the publisher that this is a viable subject and there are enough wannabe incense-sniffers in the bookstores to justify a new edition. And here Morita gives real assistance. She lists all the popular varieties and indicates where to get them, is knowledgeable about the instruments necessary, gives advice on the "incense ceremony," and tells how to "sample for fun."

And, truly, in this age of fast food, of instant replay, of demanding e-mail and the voracious cell phone, something as reflective and as time-consuming as kodo is plainly needed if sanity is to be retained.