Chapter I: Introduction

During the eras of Meiji and Taisho (1868–1926) the literary life of Japan was enriched by a wealth of many notable productions, worthy of a place in the atheneum of the world; but strange to say, no attempt has, as yet, been made to embody them into any part of the works forming an international library. It is true, that some Japanese novels have been rendered into English, but such ventures have been few and far between, and in any case, they have been of a fragmentary nature and cannot be considered as a part of any systematic attempt.

Literature is the mirror of a living age in which is reflected the life of a people. It is through literature, more than any other medium, that students of the present and future eras may more readily gain an insight into the characteristics and life of a people. The publishers are convinced that the placing before the world, of representative Japanese writings and fictions, will render an inestimable service by bringing to it fuller and better understanding of Japan and the Japanese.

“Masterpieces of the Contemporary Japanese Fiction” comprises a few of the most representative works of the age, embodying as it does, the favourite productions of those authors, and which have been rendered into English as faithfully as it has been within the power of the translators to do so.

In this present undertaking, the publishers are not actuated by any other motive but to allow the world to understand, and to see Japan, as she really is.

THE PUBLISHERS.

Tokyo, June, 1927.

TRANSLATOR’S NOTE

Junichiro ♦Tanizaki, the author of “O-Tsuya Koroshi,” presented here under the title of “A Springtime Case,” is a man just turning the age of forty. His appearance on the literary stage of Japan some eighteen years ago, made with a sensational, because so sudden, burst into fame, and his steady climb since to the pinnacle of a literary career, where he maintains himself to this day, with the unchallenged glory of Phœbus’ own orb,—will preclude argument against singling him out as one of the most popular, and even remarkable, authors of present-day Japan.

♦ “Tanisaki” replaced with “Tanizaki”

He is remarkable for a two-fold reason. First, because his popularity and fame have shown such endurance as rarely seen in this country, where the mind of the people is so fleeting and fickle as the very God of Fortune they are wont to bewail of in their life and literature. A new artist on the stage to fawn upon the smile of the public,—for a moment,—only to slink off as swiftly never to return. Not the fault, perhaps, so much of the artist himself as of the public which is riding upon a tide too fast to catch its breath or pause to scan whither it is bound. It has been swept on into an eddy that occurs where the inexorable in-flow out of the West meets against the thought-current of its own, still flowing on its course with a force out of its many centuries. Under the sway of its own mind divided betwixt a mad rush for the new and a guard over the old, it scarce knows yet where to plant its feet and cast for bearings for the course for its mind to pursue for the future. And the artist who wishes to cull his fortune amidst such existing orders of life, is left all to himself to cast about and make shift for himself the best he knows how; and his judgment proves as often in error as his effort turns out futile. The position ♦Tanizaki has held for a period of nearly two decades with unwaning power, is in itself an eloquent tribute to his own achievement, if the mass is any judge of literary quality.

♦ “Tanisaki” replaced with “Tanizaki”

He is remarkable also for the perspicuity and independence of his mind, which has absorbed the manifold light of the new age only to flash back a light, all its own, that takes in its clearness the colour of all that upon which it falls, in its sweeping flight of imagination, and exalts it with touches of exquisitely variable play and radiant depth. His achievement is the work of a mind wherein the true artist of his race rules with predominant force the domain of beauty over which he has come to hold empire; it is a voice out of the past and a voice to the new, raised in the praise of that romance which his people have treasured since their time-old days. Influence of the Western art which has been accepted by the younger writers of the country only to swamp out their own creative effort, has in his case served to broaden his outlook on life and quicken his appreciation of life, often in such aspects as had had to remain screened from his forbears.

Himself a wide reader of Western literature, a student of Poe, George Moore, Baudelaire, Gautier, Balzac, and other masters, he has always shown a capacity for range and depth; a quality excelled only by his faith in the tenets of the school of which he is the creator. Such influence as he has gleaned out of the West, appears to have been hitched to his vehicle, a servant of his work and purpose, scarcely discernible save in a happy blending with the colourings of his own.

Earlier works of ♦Tanizaki came forth when the literature of his country was passing through the most dismal period in its recent history. Against a school of writers who were desperately holding together against the inroad of new influence, there was a section of younger minds which was daubing in imbecile imitation of the worst that the canons of Continental literature had to offer. The public had turned its back upon this tribe of writers, slow to think and clumsy of hand. It was in those days of the country’s literature at its lowest ebb that ♦Tanizaki stalked forth and proclaimed to set up what he conceived to be new deities in art.

♦ “Tanisaki” replaced with “Tanizaki”

Many of the writers who find themselves to-day in the fore rank of Japan’s literary activity owe their success, directly or indirectly, to the stimulation, and even inspiration in not a few cases, given by ♦Tanizaki’s work; and some of these were amongst those who were the first to rally under the standard hoisted by the new prophet of the hour. Indeed, he is due for a large measure of credit for the new age on which the literature of Japan has now entered with a fair spurt of vigor and a supreme confidence, an age of not a few achievements of intrinsic value, with promises of even greater things for the future. This accrediting is but fair acknowledgment of the work of the writer who has been a decidedly predominant force amongst those helpful in ushering in this new age.

♦ “Tanizaki’s” replaced with “Tanizaki’s”

Beyond this, it would perhaps be difficult to go in estimating the position of the writer who is now at the zenith of his career, and has still “so many springs and autumns,” as the native phrase goes, to turn out the work of his maturing mind, as even he continues to do.

Broad of sympathy and versatile of mind, ♦Tanizaki has turned his hand to more than one form of literary work. Scarcely less successful in drama than in novels or tales of smaller scope, it would probably be best to turn to his dramatic work to seek for his expression on life. However, it is in his briefer stories that his artistic self seems more congenial with itself, and certainly more enticingly attractive. The subject of the present ♠translation, chosen from such a point of view, may not be precisely typical of his mind, but typical certainly is it of his art.

♦ “Tanisaki” replaced with “Tanizaki”
♠ “translatin” replaced with “translation”

A work of a dozen years ago, “O-Tsuya Koroshi” has been followed by products where the author has excelled himself at his own method, where his artist hand created characters of more compelling force, where his imagination has woven tapestries of finer colours,—works of deeper feelings and more polished craftsmanship; yet, amongst such an array of brilliant records, does the present story stand out, for the artistry of its own no less than for the sustaining power of popularity it has displayed. A happier selection of the subject may have been possible for the introduction of the present author abroad; but scarce none, I am almost convinced, wherein to show to better advantage the artist ♦Tanizaki. The plot of the story develops under circumstances that must be those of strange unfamiliarity to the Western reader, and the characters are sometimes concerned with problems that must be of no less peculiarity, if not lacking in a quaint appeal of their own. These are, however, details slightly to be treated, certain not to be an obstruction in following the thread of the narrative, making almost negligible demand on the imagination of the reader.

♦ “Tanisaki” replaced with “Tanizaki”

For the translation itself, many apologies are due, no doubt; but less explanation will be necessary, I trust. If it has not been done with the deftness of one “to the manner born,” of which I am more than convinced, it has at least been kept faithful, so much so as to present the process of thought and the mode of expression in the order it was originally conceived and expressed by the author. The translation in itself is an acknowledged defeat in its purpose, for it falls below the artistic heights attained in the original.

Departures from the original text, which are not so many, have been made only where the translator deemed such to be necessary as inevitable considerations for a right, if not an exact, presentation of the tone conveyed in the Japanese, or where,—and these are few indeed, —a literal translation would result in such ludicrous incongruities as never meant by the author.

In the face of such obvious difficulties, the present undertaking has been pursued, and perhaps, with more or less the proverbial courage of one who treads where the angel dreads, in the conviction that modern Japan, which has forced itself into a worldly recognition in the armed profession, should be weighed for achievement of its mind along some different path, where its passion of a more peaceful sort, though no less strong, and where aspirations of its living mind, are concerned; where its people feel its true honour to be weighing in the balance.

And it is my prayer to the Eight Million Deities that are told to guard over the shores of Japan, that the present work may speed on its way overseas, and, though seen through a filmy screen brought on its face of beauty in the process of recasting in a strange language, may meet with such reception as it merits in those countries where the people have shown themselves so ready with their sympathy in the cases of _Hiroshige_ and _Hokusai_, of whom ♦Tanizaki, different as the mode may be, chosen for the expression of his artistic soul, is certainly a disciple of no mean distinction.

♦ “Tanisaki” replaced with “Tanizaki”

♦ZENCHI IWADO.

♦ “ZENCH” replaced with “ZENCHI”

_Kamakura, May, 1927._

AN INTRODUCTION

The scenes of the present story are laid in the town of Tokyo which in those days was still known as “Yeddo”—a name to-day seldom mentioned save in connection with that period of some two hundred years leading close up to the dawn of the Modern Age of Japan, generally known as the Restoration, when the fine arts and literature of the country, with their centre at Yeddo, reached a state of splendid activity, with few parallels in the history of the country. It were not going too far, in fact, to say that the name of “Yeddo” to-day conjures up a period of peace, with the whole nation glorying in a free and full enjoyment of life, following the dictates of their own hearts and minds, in a complete deliverance of spirit from the black reign of the War God. The nation which had returned to peace some eighty years since, and claimed the rightful heritage of life which had been denied them under war-like conditions prevailing throughout a period of some three hundred years, had by this time developed a civilization quite unique for its romantic fervour. Not a civilization to be considered in terms of “steam whistles and bicycles,” to be sure; but a state of artistic emancipation where the soul of man was honoured and the aspirations of mind exalted. Under the administration of the Shogun Government, the country fared well, and even waxed rich in so far as the welfare of the people was concerned. The piper piped; the people danced. The blade hitherto kept whetted sharp was now allowed to rest rusting in its sheath. The hand hardened in war-like training had now turned to the plough or to the brush and the chisel. Art grew rich and literature advanced. In the age of the Genroku, the new spirit of the country had reached a state of ripened mellowness; its name carries to this day visions of vivid colours and brilliant freedom.

It is back to those times of the “Yeddo” period, deep into the life of that age, that ♦Tanizaki takes us in his present story. If he has treated the subject with a modern touch in some aspects, his canvas is nevertheless done true to the tradition which masters of the age have left in their supreme understanding of colour and line. ♦Tanizaki consistently displays himself an unerring judge of the tools at his service, and is ever sure of the effect to be attained. His colours are striking, if often bold; his lines always forceful, because simple.

♦ “Tanisaki” replaced with “Tanizaki”

The story concerns a great deal with one particular side of Japanese life, as it existed in those days of old, and even continues to this day with but slight changes in certain aspects. It is just the side where the impassive mask of the Japanese stoic is thrust aside in a true enjoyment of life; where the best and sweetest in the Japanese woman is brought forth for the benefit of man. It is a world of the “geisha” which is generally translated as “singing girls,” an epithet so misleading, because whatever vocal talent they may be called upon to display is given not on the stage or in the public, as it suggests, but is given for the entertainment of men who have elected to confine themselves in their private company. Not a community where licensed vice is ♦trafficked; but an institution where the woman’s artistic attainments and wits, no less than her personality, are thrown in direct touch with men within encompassed society,—a system born out of a moral notion that disfavoured open association between men and women.

♦ “trafficed” replaced with “trafficked”

Here one particular class of girls and women enjoying social freedom in much the same sense as we understand it to-day. So different from their sisters, more honoured but more unfortunate in many points, the geisha are trained in full consciousness of social opportunities, developing such qualities as make their personalties attractively pleasing, and often make possible their own advancement in life marrying into fortune or position. If the men of the country, warped in their view of womanhood by the dictates of certain moral schools, have failed to appreciate their women more fully than they have done in the past, they have here, at least, developed a society of unique arrangement to do more justice to their women, limited though they are in number, and offer them such opportunity as is denied to the ordinary woman. Nor would it be too sweeping a statement to say that much of the best in Japanese womanhood has been brought out only in the girls and women of the geisha class, who are, at the least, the real moving spirit of social life of the country.

Those are ♦generalities; not an attempt to deny the existence of two sides to anything. There are geisha who cheapen or even disgrace their profession, beside those who grace it, make it dear not only to the hearts of men, but even of women. If wine flows too freely where geisha are present, it is not so much their fault as the men’s. If there are paramour loves where they are concerned, those things are but incidents, for which the geisha should no more be censured than the men.

♦ “generalties” replaced with “generalities”

Brief reference to what is generally known as “tea-house,” “ryori-ya” or restaurant, and “geisha house,” will not be out of place here, though not exactly essential to the intelligent following of events in the story. The geisha are almost in all cases brought together to live within some particular parts of town. This is more for the reason of convenience than from any other consideration. It is necessary for them to be within a circumscribed area so as to keep themselves within easy reach of the “kem-ban,” or the call station which receives the calls for geisha from “tea-houses”, or restaurants, and transfers them to the geisha houses.

Girls of the profession, as a rule, live or register themselves at the houses which are officially known and approved of as places for the conducting of such business. It is often a case that a house of this description advances money to a girl just entering on her professional career, an event involving considerable outlay mostly in lines of dresses and personal ornaments. The house which charges a certain rate for the girl’s registration, and often for board, too, takes for itself a certain percentage on her earnings, toward liquidation of such advanced accounts as there are.

The geisha herself is paid by the hour while she is present at any social party where her attendance is called, and such gatherings take place at tea-houses or restaurants. Whatever she may receive from guests, or her particular patron, as often the case, through her own charm, is accounted to her house which also shares in the benefit. When she has paid off her account to her house, she is financially free either to establish herself in the trade on her own account, or remain under the same registration to dispense with time and care to be claimed as mistress of such place, or quit the profession if she be so disposed. It is no rare occurrence that a geisha, smiled upon by fortune, ingratiates herself into sufficient capitalistic support to maintain her own house with several younger ones working under her. It is this kind of house that _Tsuya_, the heroine of the story, begins to manage, after she has gone a little way along her career in the geisha business which she espouses under the sway of her impelling heart as much as through certain circumstances thrust upon her life.

The party to which a geisha is called in takes place at such a restaurant, when not at a “tea-house,” as has special working arrangements with the “kem-ban,” or the call station. A “tea-house” which in many respects partakes of the character of a restaurant, is a name as vague as it is misleading; for it is a place for the sole purpose of holding geisha parties, and what is taken there is of more vigorous power than the green leaves beverage.

In addition to receiving and dispatching calls for geisha, the duties of the “kem-ban” include that of keeping track of their movements, from one place to another, and the work connected with keeping straight all their accounts receivable from tea-houses and restaurants. It sends out a man attendant to escort a geisha on her way to and back from tea-houses and restaurants. It is the character of such a man escort that ♦_Shinsuké_, the hero of the present story, assumes in going out to the country villa of the military officer.

♦ “Shinsuke” replaced with “Shinsuké”

The liking that _Tsuya_ seems to display for the geisha profession, even while living in comfort and apparent happiness under her father’s roof, is but an instance of the sentiment shared by so many of her sex. Always originators or forerunners in fashion, freely adored by men, independent of thought and aloof from cumbersome considerations of the conventions, it is no marvel that the geisha should appeal to so many tender hearts of the country. _Tsuya’s_ partiality for the gay profession is in no wise to be accounted as a weakness arising from that particular side of her nature which is brought out in such glaring colours later in her life. Hers was decidedly a romantic temperament. Once placed in that life, which had ever held out to her alluring promises, she was drunk with her own brilliant success. In the mad whirl of joy and happiness, she allowed herself to be carried off until she lost sight of her own soul at some moments. She was too young and ♦too inexperienced to fight against the temptations besetting her path. She was even pathetic in her impetuosity to pursue what she fancied to be the rightful guerdon of beauty and wit.

♦ “two” replaced with “too”

Her cup of joy was poisoned, and she knew it not. Blinded by her own brilliance, flattered by the homage so willingly offered at the alter of her beauty, she chose what she took to be a road of spring and glory, but to be deceived. For the way led not to a queen’s garden, but strayed off and trailed into a mist, such as oft seen across the face of the sky at the time of the cherry blossoms. Her own life is a song of the cherry,—beautiful, but for its beauty doth God grant it a spring of but a few fleeting days of glory.

THE TRANSLATOR.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE
INTRODUCTION
TRANSLATOR’S NOTE i
AN INTRODUCTION ix
PART I 3
PART II 27
PART III 67
PART IV 117
PART V 135
A BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
Transcriber’s Notes

Part I