LITERATURE AND THE DRAMA
The literature of Japan is a somewhat recondite subject, while the
Japanese drama is at present, like many other things in the country,
to a great extent in a state of transition. Still, some remarks on
these two matters are, I consider, absolutely essential in order that
my readers may form some idea of two important phases of Japanese
life. The literature of Japan is indeed largely mixed up with the
national life through many centuries--a reflection, in fact, of it.
The late Sir Edwin Arnold, whose great authority on everything
connected with Japan is generally admitted, has observed in reference
to the literature of that country: "The time will come when Japan,
safe, famous, and glad with the promise of peaceful years to follow
and to reward this present period of life and death conflict, will
engage once again the attraction of the Western nations on the side of
her artistic and intellectual gifts. Already in this part of the globe
persons of culture have become well aware how high and subtle is her
artistic genius; and by and by it will be discovered that there are
real treasures to be found in her literature. Moreover, England,
beyond any other European country, is likely to be attracted to this
branch, at present naturally neglected, of what may be called the
spiritual side of Japanese life."
The drawback to the fulfilment of the somewhat optimistic forecast of
Sir Edwin Arnold is the great difficulty experienced by the Western
nations in acquiring a sufficient knowledge of the language in which
the treasures of Japanese literature are embedded if not entombed. No
man can ever grasp the beauties of a literature, and especially an
Oriental literature, through the medium of a translation, however well
done. A translation is like a diamond with the brilliancy removed, if
we can imagine such a thing. It may be faultlessly correct in its
rendering, and yet absolutely misleading in its interpretation of the
original.
Japanese literature embraces poetry, history, fiction, books of
ceremony and travel, as well as many works of an ethical nature.
Poetry is supposed to have reached its most brilliant period in Japan
a long way back--long even before Geoffrey Chaucer took up his pen to
write those immortal lines which I fear but comparatively few
Englishmen now read. In reference to this poetry of twelve hundred
years ago, Mr. Aston--perhaps the greatest authority on the
subject--remarks: "While the eighth century has left us little or no
prose literature of importance, it was emphatically the golden age of
poetry. Japan has now outgrown the artless effusions described in the
preceding chapter, and during this period produced a body of verse of
an excellence which has never since been surpassed. The reader who
expects to find this poetry of a nation just emerging from the
barbaric stage of culture characterised by rude, untutored vigour,
will be surprised to learn that, on the contrary, it is distinguished
by polish rather than power. It is delicate in sentiment and refined
in language, and displays exquisite skill of phrase with a careful
adherence to certain canons of composition of its own."
I confess my knowledge of the language is insufficient to enable me to
read Japan's literary treasures in the original, and as I have
remarked, no man through the medium of a translation can adequately
form a correct opinion respecting any description of foreign
literature. I fear, however, that modern Japan is as little concerned
with its eighth-century poetry as the modern Englishman is with that
of Chaucer, not to speak of those great poets, most of whom are now
forgotten, who lived long before Chaucer and whose verses were not
only read but sung throughout the length and breadth of the land.
In a much later period of the history of the country, literature was
undoubtedly greatly in vogue. There was evolved what I may term a
distinct literary class, the language and literature of China were
diligently studied, and very much of the literature of this time is
written in Chinese. That language, indeed, seems to have been at one
period regarded in Japan very much as Latin was, and in some quarters
is even still, regarded in Europe as the appropriate medium for
expressing the most sublime thoughts of the brightest intellects. The
fiction of this period, usually termed the Heian--and there is plenty
of it still in existence--was for the most part written by women, so
that it will be seen the female novelist is not, as some persons
appear to imagine, a comparatively modern development. After the
twelfth century--and most of the literature I have referred to is
anterior to that--petty wars between the feudal princes appear to have
been incessant, and the whole country was for a great number of years
more concerned with fighting than with literature. History or
historical romance seems to have been the favourite literary
exercitation during this period. A good deal of the literature thereof
is still, I understand, read in Japan, especially by its youth, for
whom the stirring episodes embodied in the history and historical
romances of these bellicose times seem to have an especial
fascination.
The Tokugawa period, covering the 270 years during which the
Government of the Tycoon was installed in Yeddo, was one during which
literature made great progress in Japan. Those years were a time of
profound peace; the country was cut off from the rest of the world,
thrown in upon itself, and accordingly had ample leisure, and possibly
much inclination, to develop its artistic side, especially in
literature. The study of books was prevalent everywhere, and quite a
band of teachers arose in the land whose mission it was to expound its
ancient literature, and exhume for public edification and delectation
many of the buried literary treasures of the past. These teachers were
not content with mere oral description; they wrote what would now be
termed treatises or commentaries, many of which show great depth of
learning, by way of expounding and explaining the classics of Japan
with a view of bringing them within the ken of the great mass of the
people. This period (the Tokugawa) also had its works of fiction; it
produced many dramas and, I believe, some, if not much, poetry. The
romances of this time are, I am told, written principally for or down
to the level of the common people. The classics of Japan were, and
probably still are, like the classics of Greece and Rome in respect of
the mass of the people of this country, not understood, and most
likely were they, would not be appreciated. And hence in the Tokugawa
period what I may term the popular writer was evolved, and he turned
out, under a _nom-de-plume_ for the most part, books for the lower
orders. These works are now regarded as somewhat vulgar, but they are
in many respects a mirror of the age in which they were written, and
it is doubtful if they are much coarser in style than some of the
novels published in England in the eighteenth century. Vulgarity, it
must be remembered, is largely a matter of opinion, and because either
the Japanese of to-day or the foreigner who has perused, perhaps in a
translation, this fiction of a couple of centuries back, dubs it
according to the opinion of to-day vulgar, it by no means follows that
it was so considered in Japan two hundred years back.
Since the Revolution of 1868 it is doubtful if Japan has produced any
distinctive literature. The whole country and all the national modes
of thought have been in a state of transition, a condition of
unrest--circumstances not conducive to the production of classical
literature; moreover, literary ideas and conceptions have changed and
are still changing--changing rapidly. The development of a powerful
newspaper press must have a marked and far-reaching effect on Japanese
literature. So also must the study of Western literature by the
educated classes--a study which is both extensive and increasing.
Japanese literature is now undoubtedly in the melting-pot, so to
speak, and what will be the precise result it is impossible to
determine. It must be confessed that the modern Japanese who has been
educated according to Western methods, and is adequately acquainted
with the languages and literature of Europe, is infrequently an
admirer of the peculiar literature of his own country. Possibly it
suffers by comparison. Japan has produced no Dante, or Shakespeare, or
Milton. The moods of her people, and probably the limitations and
peculiarities of the language, have prevented the possibility of the
appearance of such divine geniuses. There is, its critics declare, an
absence of sustained power and sublimity in Japanese literature
generally, while the didactic and philosophical, if not altogether
lacking, is extremely rare therein. But it seems to me the height of
absurdity to compare the literature of a country like Japan with the
literature of some other land where everything is, and always has
been, essentially different. To properly comprehend, and probably to
be able to appreciate Japanese literature, it would be necessary to
get, so to speak, into the atmosphere in which it was produced. To
judge it by twentieth-century standards and canons of criticism and
from European standpoints is not only unfair but must create a totally
false impression.
[Illustration: A LABOUR OF LOVE
FROM A PRINT BY TOSHIKATA]
In every country which has attained any degree of civilisation, and
even in some countries whose civilisation is still imperfect, the
drama has played an important part, and Japan has been no exception to
the rule. Its dramatic literature is, I believe, of considerable
extent, and to understand, much less appreciate it properly would
require very profound study. Many of the more or less ancient dramas
are works not only containing the dialogue of the play but much
descriptive matter. They were, as a matter of fact, written for
theatres in which there were to be not actors but marionettes, singers
being engaged to sing the lines out of sight while the puppets
depicted the characters. Some of these dramas have, since they were
written, been adapted for the ordinary stage and the characters
portrayed by Japan's most famous actors. The theatre was long looked
down upon and it is only of comparatively recent years that it has
been looking up. A large number of persons in this country still
appear to be under the impression that there are no actresses on the
Japanese stage. This is, of course, a mistake, caused no doubt by the
fact that in Japanese theatres the female characters in a play are so
often impersonated by men. Some two or three centuries back actors and
actresses used, as in Europe, to play in the same piece, but this was
for some reason or other interdicted, and ever since there have been
companies composed of men and women respectively. In the male
companies some of the female parts naturally fell to men and in the
female companies the male parts were of necessity depicted by women.
Of recent years the tendency is to revert to the ancient practice and
to come into line with the custom of European countries in this
matter, and ere long, no doubt in Japanese theatres the female
characters will be taken by women and the male characters by men.
The theatre has always been a popular institution in Japan, and the
pieces usually played have very much the same _motif_ as the dramas
formerly so popular in this country--the discomfiture of the villain
and the triumph of virtue. The Japanese theatre does not appeal to the
ordinary European visitor, or indeed to many Europeans living in the
country. In the first place, the performance is too long for the
European taste, and in the next, most Japanese plays are of one kind,
and concerned with one period--the feudal. There is, moreover, a
plethora of by-play--sword exercise and acrobatic performances--which
have nothing whatever to do with the plot of the piece. In fact,
irrelevancy appears to the European the chief characteristic of what
he sees on the stage of a Japanese theatre. Nor does the play, as is
usual in serious dramas in this country, revolve round one character,
the hero or heroine. Indeed it is not always easy to earmark, so to
speak, the leading character, and it is occasionally doubtful in many
Japanese plays whether there is any hero or heroine. But the same
remark may be made here as in reference to the literature of the
country. It is probably essential to get into the Japanese atmosphere
in order to properly appreciate a Japanese play. The drama in Japan at
any rate serves, and so far as I have had an opportunity of forming an
opinion in the matter, serves well, its purpose to interest and amuse
the frequenters of the theatres, besides which the lessons it
inculcates are for the most part of a moral nature.
The high art of the Japanese theatre is represented by the "Noh," which
I suppose fills much the same position as does the Italian opera in
this country. The "Noh" is, I believe, very ancient. The written text
is sung; there is a principal and a secondary character and a chorus.
The dialogue is as ancient, some critics say as archaic, as the time
in which the play was written, and I understand it requires being
educated up to it in order to fully appreciate the "Noh." The ordinary
Japanese would probably just as much fail to comprehend or like it as
would the Englishman from Mile End, were he taken to Covent Garden,
and invited to go into raptures over one of Mozart's or Meyerbeer's
masterpieces. A performance of the "Noh" would probably interest those
who find excitement in a representation of "Oedipus Tyrannus," or some
Greek play. Still, the "Noh" is appreciated by a large number of the
intellectual classes in Japan, who find an interest in the
representation of this Japanese opera, as I suppose it may be termed.
As I have already said, very much the same remarks made in reference
to the literature of Japan apply to its drama. That country is still
in the transition stage, and both its drama and its literature will
undoubtedly be profoundly modified in future years. Western literature
and Western dramatic art have already exercised considerable
influence, and there are movements on foot whose object is to replace
the old ideas and methods, especially in the matter of the
representation of dramatic works by those which obtain in Europe and
America. Whether these movements will be successful or not remains to
be seen. There is certainly a large body of public opinion not only
opposed but antagonistic to them. In spite of the rapid development of
Japan in recent years, there is a very strong conservative party in
the country--a party which, though it recognises or acquiesces in the
desirability of change in many directions, is not prepared to throw
overboard everything because it is old. I sincerely hope that the
distinctive literature and dramatic art of the country will not be
allowed to die out. Japan cannot afford to forget the past with its
influences on the national life and character, influences at work for
many ages which have assuredly had a material effect in elevating her
to the position she at present occupies.