FRIENDS OF LAFCADIO HEARN
(SHIMANE, TOTTORI AND HYOGO)
Those who suffer learn, those who love know.--MRS. HAVELOCK ELLIS
At Matsue, with which the name of Lafcadio Hearn will always be
associated, I chanced to arrive on the anniversary of his death. His
local admirers were holding a memorial meeting. As a foreigner I was
honoured with a request to attend. First, however, I had the chance of
visiting Hearn's house. Matsue was the first place at which Hearn
lived. He always remembered it and at last came back there to marry.
Except that a pond has been filled up--no doubt to reduce the number
of mosquitoes--the garden of his house is little changed.
The most interesting feature of the meeting was old pupils' grateful
recollections of Hearn, the middle-school teacher. The gathering was
held in a room belonging to the town library in the prefectural
grounds, but neither the Governor nor the mayor was present. A
sympathetic speech was made by a chance visitor to the town, the
secretary-general to the House of Peers. He recalled the antagonism
which the young men at Tokyo University, himself among them, felt
towards the odd figure of Hearn--he had a terribly strained eye and
wore a monocle--when he became a professor, and how very soon he
gained the confidence and regard of the class.
I had often wondered that there was no Japanese memorial to Hearn, and
when I rose to speak I said so. I added that it was rare to meet a
Japanese who had any understanding of how much Hearn had done in
forming the conception of Japan possessed by thousands of Europeans
and Americans. The fault in so many books about Japan, I went on, was
not that their "facts" were wrong. What was wrong was their authors'
attitude of mind. I had heard Japanese say that Hearn was "too
poetical" and that some of his inferences were "inaccurate." That was
as might be. What mattered was that the mental attitude of Hearn was
so largely right. He did not approach Japan as a mere "fact" collector
or as a superior person. What he brought to the country was the
humble, studious, imaginative, sympathetic attitude; and it was only
by men and women of his rare type that peoples were interpreted one to
the other.
In that free-and-easy way in which meetings are conducted in Japan it
was permissible for us to leave after another speech had been made.
The proceedings were interrupted while the promoters of the gathering
showed us a collection of books and memorials of Hearn, arranged under
a large portrait, and accompanied us to the door of the hall. I do not
recall during the time I was in Japan any other public gathering in
honour of Hearn, and I met several prominent men who had either never
heard his name or knew nothing of the far-reaching influence of his
books. But some months after this Matsue meeting there was included
among the Coronation honours a posthumous distinction for
Hearn--"fourth rank of the junior grade."[192]
During this journey I attended a dinner of officials and leading
agriculturists and had the odd sensation of making a short
after-dinner speech on my knees. At such a dinner the guests kneel on
cushions ranged round the four walls of the room, and each man has a
low lacquer table to himself, and a geisha to wait on him. When the
geisha is not bringing in new dishes or replenishing the _saké_
bottle, she kneels before the table and chatters entertainingly. The
governors of the feast visit the guests of honour and drink with them.
In the same way a guest drinks with his neighbour and with his
attendant geisha. I have a vivid memory of a grave and elderly
dignitary who at the merry stage of such a function capered the whole
length of the room with his kneeling-cushion balanced on the top of
his head. There is a growing temperance movement in Japan but a
teetotaller is still something of an oddity. My abstinence from _saké_
was frequently supposed to be the result of a vow.
Although the average geisha may be inane in her patter and have little
more than conventional grace and charm, I have been waited on by girls
who added real mental celerity, wit and a power of skilful mimicry to
that elusive and seductive quality that accounts for the impregnable
position of their class. At one dinner impersonations in both the
comic and the tragic vein were given by a girl of unmistakable genius.
Frequently a plain, elderly geisha will display unsuspected mimetic
ability. Alas, behind the merry laugh and sprightliness of the girls
who adorn a feast lurks a skeleton. One is haunted by thoughts of the
future of a large proportion of these butterflies. No doubt most
foreigners generalise too freely in identifying the professions of
geisha and _joro_. In the present organisation of society some geisha
play a legitimate rôle. They gain in the career for which they have
laboriously trained an outlet for the expression of artistic and
social gifts which would have been denied them in domestic life. At
the same time the degrading character of the life led by many geisha
cannot be doubted. Apart from every other consideration the temptation
to drink is great. The opening of new avenues to feminine ability, the
enlarged opportunities of education and self-respect and the
increasing opening for women on the stage--from which women have been
excluded hitherto--must have their effect in turning the minds of
girls of wit and originality to other means of earning a living than
the morally and physically hazardous profession of the geisha.
When we left Matsue by steamer on our way to Tottori prefecture I saw
middle-school eights at practice. An agriculturist told me of the
custom of giving holidays to oxen and horses. The villagers carefully
brush their animals, decorate them and lead them to pastures where,
tethered to rings attached to a long rope, "they may graze together
pleasantly." One of the islands we visited bore the name of the giant
radish, Daikon, which is itself a corruption of the word for octopus.
The island devoted itself mainly to the growing of peonies and
ginseng. The ginseng is largely exported to China and Korea, but there
is a certain consumption in Japan. Ginseng is sometimes chewed, but is
generally soaked, the liquid being drunk. Ginseng is popularly
supposed to be an invigorant, and Japanese doctors in Korea have
lately declared that it has some value. The root is costly, hence the
proverb about eating ginseng and hanging oneself, i.e. getting into
debt.
In walking across the island I passed a forlorn little shrine. It was
merely a rough shed with a wide shelf at the back, on which stood a
row of worn and dusty figures, decked with the clothes of children
whose recovery was supposed to have been due to their influence. It
was raining and the shelter was full of children playing in the
company of an old crone with a baby on her back. Further on in the
village I came across a new public bath. The price of admission was
one sen, children half price.
A small port was pointed out to me as being open to foreign trade.
Everybody is not aware that in Japan there is a restriction upon
foreign shipping except at sixty specified places.[193] The reason
given for the restriction is the unprofitableness of custom houses at
small places. One day, perhaps, the world will wake up to the
inconvenience and financial burden imposed by the custom-house system
of raising revenue.
We stayed the night at a little place at the eastern extremity of the
Shimane promontory where there is a shrine and no cultivation of any
sort is allowed "for fear of defilement." Waste products are taken
away by boat. I marked a contrast between theoretical and practical
holiness. Our inn overlooked a special landing-place where, because a
"sacred boat" from the shrine is launched there, a notice had been put
up forbidding the throwing of rubbish into the sea. A few minutes
after the board had been pointed out to me I saw an old man cast a
considerable mass of rubbish into the water not six feet away from it.
When we visited the shrine three pilgrims were at their devotions. The
next morning when our steamer left and the chief priest of the shrine
was bidding us adieu my attention was attracted by loud conversation
in the second storey of an inn, the _shoji_ of which were open. Our
pilgrims, two of whom were bald, had spent the night at an inn of bad
character and were now in the company of prostitutes in the sight of
all men. One pilgrim had a girl on his knee, another was himself on a
girl's knee and a third had his arm round a girl's neck. In this
"sacred" place of 2,000 inhabitants there were forty "double license"
girls, five being natives. A few years ago all the girls were natives.
A "double license" girl means one who is licensed both as a geisha and
a prostitute. The plan of issuing "double licenses" is adopted at
Kyoto and elsewhere. As to the pilgrims to whom I have referred,
someone quoted to me the saying, "It is only half a pilgrimage going
to the shrine without seeing the girls."
Returning to the custom of launching a sacred boat it is not without
significance that many Japanese deities have some connection with the
sea. Even in the case of the deities of shrines a long way from the
sea the ceremony of "going down to the sea" is sometimes observed.
Sand and sea water are sent for in order to be mixed with the water
used to cleanse the car in which the figure of the deity is drawn
through the streets.
The social and financial position of tenants was illustrated by an
incident at an inn. As the maid came from the country I asked her if
her father were a tenant or an owner. My companion interrupted to tell
me that the question was not judiciously framed because the girl would
"think it a disgrace to own that her father was a tenant." The name of
a tenant used long ago to be "water drinker." This waiting-maid was a
good-looking and rather clever girl. I was dismayed when my friend
told me that she had said to him quite simply that she had thoughts
of becoming a _joro_. She thought it would be a "more interesting
life."
When we reached Tottori prefecture we found ourselves in a country
which grows more cotton than any other. Japanese cotton (grown on
about 400 _chō_) is unsuitable for manufacture into thread, but
because of its elasticity is considered to be valuable for the padding
of winter clothing and for _futon_ and _zabuton_. Their softness is
maintained by daily sunning.
At a county office I noted that the persons who were receiving relief
were classified as follows: Illness, 26; cripples, 17; old age, 16;
schoolboys, 12; infancy, 1.
In the course of our journey a Shinto priest was pointed out to me as
observing the priestly taboo by refusing tea and cake. I noticed,
however, that he smoked. I was told that when he was in Tokyo he
purified himself in the sea even in midwinter. I did not like his
appearance. Nor for the matter of that was I impressed by the
countenances of some Buddhist priests I encountered in the train from
time to time. "Thinking always of money," someone said. But every now
and again I saw fine priestly faces.
I have noted down very little in regard to the crops and the
countryside in Tottori. Things seemed very much the same as I had seen
in Shimane. At an agricultural show in the city of Tottori the
varieties of yam and taro were so numerous as to deceive the average
Westerner into believing that he was seeing the roots of different
kinds of plants. A feature of the show was a large realistic model of
a rice field with two life-size figures.
In the evening I talked with two distinguished men until a late hour.
"We are not a metaphysical people," one of them said. "Nor were our
forefathers as religious as some students may suppose. Those who went
before us gave to the Buddhist shrine and even worshipped there, but
their daily life and their religion had no close connection. We did
not define religion closely. Religion has phases according to the
degree of public instruction. Our religion has had more to do with
propitiation and good fortune than with morality. If you had come here
a century ago you would have been unable to find even then religion
after another pattern. If it be said that a man must be religious in
order to be good the person who says so does not look about him. I am
not afraid to say that our people are good as a result of long
training in good behaviour. Their good character is due to the same
causes as the freedom from rowdiness which may be marked in our
crowds."
"What is wanted in the villages," said the other personage, "is one
good personality in each." I said that the young men's association
seemed to me to be often a dull thing, chiefly indeed a mechanism by
means of which serious persons in a village got the young men to work
overtime. "Yes," was the response, "the old men make the young fellows
work."
The first speaker said that there had been three watchwords for the
rural districts. "There was Industrialisation and Increase of
Production. There was Public Spirit and Public Welfare. There was The
Shinto Shrine the Centre of the Village. We have a certain conception
of a model village, but perhaps some hypocrisy may mingle with it.
They say that the village with well-kept Buddhist and Shinto shrines
is generally a good village."
"In other words," I ventured, "the village where there is some
non-material feeling."
The rejoinder was: "Western religion is too high, and, I fear,
inapplicable to our life. It may be that we are too easily contented.
But there are nearly 60 millions of us. I do not know that we feel a
need or have a vacant place for religion. There is certainly not much
hope for an increase of the influence of Buddhism."
As we went along in the train I was told that on a sixth of the rice
area in Tottori there had been a loss of 70 per cent. by wind. When a
man's harvest loss exceeds this percentage he is not liable for rates
and taxes. A passenger told me about "nursery pasture." This is a
patch of grass in the hills to which a farmer sends his ox to be
pastured in common with the oxen of other farmers under the care of a
single herdsman. It is from cattle keeping on this modest scale that
the present beef requirements of the country are largely met.[194]
Although the opinions expressed to me by Governors of prefectures
have been frequently recorded in these pages, I have not felt at
liberty to identify more than one of the Excellencies who were good
enough to express their views to me. A friend who knew many Governors
offered me the following criticism, which I thought just: "They are
too practical and too much absorbed in administration to be able to
think. Often they read very little after leaving the university. They
have seldom anything to tell you about other than ordinary things, and
they seldom show their hearts. You cannot learn much from Governors
who have nothing original to say or are fearful or live in their frock
coats or do not mean to show half their minds or are practising the
old official trick of talking round and round and always evading the
point. One fault of Governors is that they are being continually
transferred from prefecture to prefecture. You have no doubt yourself
noticed how often Governors were new to their prefectures. But with
all the faults that our Governors have, there are not a few able, good
and kind men among them and they are not recruited from Parliament but
must be members of the Civil Service. One of the most common words in
our political life is _genshitsu_, 'responsibility for one's own
words.' If Governors fear to assume the responsibility of their own
views they are only of a part with a great deal of the official
world."
We turned away from the northern sea coast and struck south in order
to cross Japan to the Inland Sea en route for Kobe and Tokyo.
As we came through Hyogo prefecture my companion pointed to hill after
hill which had been afforested since his youth. One of the things
which interested me was the number and the tameness of the kites which
were catching frogs in the paddies.
Before I left Hyogo I had the advantage of a chat with one who for
many years past had thought about the rural situation in Japan
generally. He spoke of "the late Professor King's idealising of the
Japanese farmer's condition." He went on: "While King laid stress on
the ability to be self-supporting on a small area he ignored the
extent to which many rural people are underfed. The change in the
Meiji era has been a gradual transference from ownership to tenancy.
Many so-called representative farmers have been able to add field to
field until they have secured a substantial property and have ceased
to be farmers. An extension of tenancy is to be deplored, not only
because it takes away from the farmer a feeling of independence and of
incentive, but because it creates a parasitic class which in Japan is
perhaps even more parasitic than in the West. A landowner in the West
almost invariably realises that he has certain duties. In Japan a
landowner's duties to his neighbourhood and to the State are often
imperfectly understood.
"On the other hand the position of the farmer has been very much
improved socially. A great deal of pity bestowed by the casual foreign
visitor is wasted. The farmer is accustomed to extremes of heat and
cold and to a bare living and poor shelter. And after all there is a
great deal of happiness in the villages. It is hardly possible to take
a day's _kuruma_ ride without coming on a festival somewhere, and
drunkenness has undoubtedly diminished."
I spoke with an old resident about the agricultural advance in the
prefecture. "In fifteen years," he said, "our agricultural production
has doubled. As to the non-material condition of the people, generally
speaking the villagers are very shallow in their religion. Not so long
ago officials used to laugh at religion, but I don't know that some of
them are not now changing their point of view. Some of us have thought
that, just as we made a Japanese Buddhism, we might make a Japanese
Christianity which would not conflict with our ideas."
FOOTNOTES:
[192] This is, I am officially informed, the highest rank ever
bestowed on a foreigner; but then Hearn was naturalised. In 1921 an
appreciation of "Koizumi Yakumo" was included by the Department of
Education in a middle-school textbook. Curiously enough, the fact that
Hearn married a Japanese is overlooked. Owing to the fact that Hearn
bought land in Tokyo which has appreciated in value his family is in
comfortable circumstances.
[193] Coastwise traffic is also forbidden to foreign vessels, as is
traffic between France and Algeria to other than French vessels.
[194] See Appendix LIII.
TWO MONTHS IN TEMPLE