Wasshoi! Magazine #4 by Wasshoi! Magazine

WASSHOI! n a p a J n i e v Lo

Interdisciplinary Magazine on Japan

WASSHOIMAGAZINE.ORG/MAGAZINE • ISSUE 4, SUMMER 2022

KEYNOTE

NEW CONTENT: ILLUSTRATED ESSAY

Love in Japan A Literary Analysis

L'Amoureuse Princess Kaguya and Tarot Cards

Love for Sale

ARTICLE

Hiroshige III’s Instructions on How to Be a Good Wife

IN COLLABORATION WITH KOTODAMA

Emotional Consumption

Tawara Machi’s Poetry

TABLE OF CONTENTS 4

EDITORIAL

ILLUSTRATED ESSAY

Why Camellia? L u i g i Ze n i 8

LITERATURE

Illustrator: Enrico Bachmann PHILOSOPHY / RELIGION AND MYTOLOGY / KEYNOTE / BILINGUAL

Liebe in Japan: eine literarische Analyse

Love in Japan: A Literary Analysis

Pa u l u s K aufman n

(Transl. Ame lia Lipko)

ARTS

LITERATURE / PHILOSOPHY / ILLUSTRATED ESSAY

L'Amoureuse: The Story of Kaguya-Hime Through the Sixth Key of the Tarot M ol ly Pi 36

ARTS

EDUCATION

Love for Sale: Hiroshige III’s Instructions on How to Be a Good Wife F rey a Te r r yn 50

FILM

REVIEW

The Stormy Family (Taifū Kazoku 大風家族) Clé m e n t Veu illo t in c o llab o ration with N ip p on C o n n ec t ion 54

HISTORY

Loveless Marriage: The Case of 20 th Century ‘Picture Brides’ (Shashin Hanayome 写真花嫁) Immigration Patterns from Japan to North America M a r t y B ors o t t i

LITERATURE

Bewildering Love in Dazai Osamu’s The Setting Sun Am e lia L ip k o an d Lu ig i Zen i 82

LITERATURE

POPULAR CULTURE / BILINGUAL

Il consumismo affettivo nella poesia di Tawara Machi

Emotional Consumption in Tawara Machi’s Poetry

D a m i a n a D e G en naro in colla b o rat io n w it h Kotodama

(Transl. Ame lia Lipko)

MUSIC

POPULAR CULTURE

Refresh our Ears: Unusual Kinds of Love in Japanese Retro-Pop Songs An i t a D rexler 110

POPULAR CULTURE

LITERATURE / SOCIOLOGY

Dreaming Big: Boys Love and Its Way into the World K i m b e r l y S c h leg el and P ao la Citte rio 120

OPINION PIECE

Love in the Time of Covid: Separated During the Pandemic – Testimonies of an International Couple M a r t y B ors o t t i

EDITORIAL Aurel Baele, Luigi Z e ni, Marty Borsotti

‘What is love?’ is probably one of the oldest questions pondered throughout human history. It is something experienced universally, and yet asking a hundred people to describe it would result in as many different replies. Could we therefore define love as a manifestation of our own feelings, social constructs, and expectations? Perhaps. While such thoughts are bewildering, we can nonetheless be sure of one thing: human beings have always tried to represent ‘love’, whether through art, philosophy, or science. The richness of the symbolism surrounding our complex definitions of ‘love’ is among the most profound, conceptually on a par with the likes of ‘God’. While we do not have the audacity to declare this publication a comprehensive study on love – a lifetime would not suffice for such a task – we have gathered an ensemble of contributions that provide varied and original perspectives on 'Love in Japan'. In doing so, our magazine aims to lift the veil on this matter, and to guide our readers in reflecting on this rich topic. We are honoured to welcome our keynote contributor, Dr. Paulus Kaufmann (University of Zurich), who introduces us to the importance of love in Japanese poetry and literature throughout the ages. Over the course of time the written word has remained a powerful yet intimate tool for expressing and reflecting upon love. Venturing further into the lesser-known aspects of romance 4

in Japan is the contirbution by Molly Pi: she illustrates how cross-cultural exchange remains an ongoing process by examining tarot cards alongside Japanese folklore. Moreover, the historical prevalence of visual art regarding relationships is skilfully explained by Dr. Freya Terryn. Her contribution is an important reminder of how Meiji era (1868–1912) moral treaties were visually reinforced with colourful prints showing the subservient role of women in a patriarchal society. We continue our collaboration with Nippon Connection, the Japanese Film Festival in Frankfurt am Main. Clément Veuillot writes about the film ‘The Stormy Family’ and its plot with bits of dark humour in an unusual context of familial love. Marty Borsotti then presents a peculiar migration pattern from Japan to the Americas based on the practice of marriage by proxy; women who were later described as ‘picture brides’ were able to immigrate by taking advantage of a legislative loophole that allowed wives to ‘reunite’ with husbands they had never met before. With the contribution by Amelia Lipko and Luigi Zeni we return to literature, but this time with an analysis of emotions in the post-war work ‘The Setting Sun’ by Dazai Osamu. There follows a special contribution by Damiana de Gennaro in collaboration with Kotodama, an Italian magazine mainly dedicated to Japanese language and literature. We are enthusiastic to mark the beginning of this collaboration with an article on the poet Tawara Machi and

50 of her poems, skilfully translated by Damiana herself – be ready to discover how food and love become a harmonic duo in a romantic relationship in post-modern Japan. A more familiar way of conveying love is without any doubt through pop songs. Anita Drexler thus examines the various forms of longing for the other, or miren, which were especially popular in Shōwa era songs (1926–1989). Next is an article by Paola Citterio and Kimberley Schlegel, which delves into the world of homosexual love in manga, also known as the genre shōnen-ai (literally ‘boys love’). This special themed issue returns to the present with the final contribution by Marty Borsotti. He offers us a unique view into the longings – indeed, miren – of an international couple separated during the pandemic, and the resulting restrictions on Japanese cross-border travel. Thanks to these contributions our team presents the first special issue of the magazine – ‘from Japan with love’ one could say. Wasshoi! Wasshoi!

ILLUSTRATED ESSAY

WHY CAMELLIA? Luigi Zeni Illustrator: Enrico Bachmann

It is with the intention of epitomising ‘love’ that we have chosen the camellia flower to accompany our fourth issue, our first thematic entry, dedicated to ‘Love in Japan’. The camellia, a flower typically found in south and east Asia, has a particular resonance in Japanese symbology. It is a controversial symbol, characterising moments of romance and passion as well as those of tension and conflict. For example, in the following poem from Midaregami みだれ髪 (1901) by Yosano Akiko (1878–1942), camellia petals create an idyllic romantic atmosphere for a couple wandering around the hills of Kyoto.

鶯に朝寒からぬ京の山おち椿ふむ人むつまじき ‘The bush warbler does not feel cold, on the hills of Kyoto an affectionate couple walks on fallen camellias.’

However, an example of camellias embodying adversity can be found in the movie Tsubaki Sanjurō 椿三十郎 (‘Sanjurō of Camellias’) by Akira Kurosawa (1910–1998). Here, camellias are associated with the antagonists and are a recurrent symbol throughout the film. As critic Inger Brodey writes, the flower is clearly linked to the idea of corruption during the civil war in 19 th century Japan:

‘The villains’ headquarters is the Camellia Mansion, covered with beautiful white and red camellias. The relationship between flowers and civilization is complex here […]: camellias potentially signify the corrupt refinement of the samurai class, or even the artifice and pleasing faces that caused the initial confusion of the young clansmen.’ 1

The camellia is a flower with opposing symbolic meanings, therefore we chose it to embody the two elements related to the fourth issue of this magazine: the first one being straightforward and intentional, namely the topic of love, the second hidden and unavoidable, namely the number four. As a matter of fact, four signifies unlucky circumstances and is typically related to negative emotions. ‘Four’ is pronounced ‘shi’ in Japanese. The same pronunciation as the word for ‘death’. Camellia and issue #4 of Wasshoi! have one thing in common: namely, that there is no single, linear, and immediate way of interpreting either of them. The use of the camellia as a symbol in Japan and the exploration of love in this magazine are both multifaceted. They may be romantic, joyful, and serene, but also controversial, obscure, and undesirable. 1 Inger Sigrun Brodey. ‘Cactus Roses and Camellias: Flowers, Action, and Masculinity in “Sanjurō’ and ‘The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.”’ U.S.-Japan Women’s Journal, No. 36 (2009): 92–116.

LITERATURE

PHILOSOPHY / RELIGION and MYTHOLOGY / KEYNOTE / BILINGUAL

LIEBE IN JAPAN

LOVE IN JAPAN

Paulus Kaufmann

(Transl. Amelia Lipko)

Liebe – ein universales Phänomen?

Love – a Universal Phenomenon?

In Ki no Tsurayukis (872-945) fiktionalem Tagebuch Tosa Nikki aus der Heian-Zeit (794-1185) findet sich ein bemerkenswerter Satz über kulturelle Unterschiede: „Zwar sind China und Japan durchaus verschiedene Länder, doch da in beiden derselbe Mond scheint, werden sich wohl auch die Gefühle der Menschen nicht allzu sehr voneinander unterscheiden.“ 1 Selbstverständlich, so Tsurayuki, unterscheiden sich menschliche Kulturen voneinander, so auch die Länder China und Japan. Da aber alle Menschen denselben natürlichen Gegebenheiten unterliegen – da sie „unter demselben Mond leben“ – ähneln sie sich auch in emotionaler Hinsicht. Dies scheint, so möchte man ergänzen, ganz besonders für die Liebe zu gelten. Die Liebe ist doch gewiss ein universales Gefühl! So mag es zunächst scheinen. Die Liebe ist jedoch „so ein seltsam Ding“ und nicht leicht zu fassen. So weist der japanische Romancier Tanizaki Jun’ichirō (1886-1965) in seinem Essay

In Ki no Tsurayuki’s (872–945) fictional diary Tosa Nikki from the Heian period (794–1185), we find a curious remark about cultural differences: ‘Although China and this country use different languages, moonlight must look the same in both places, evoking the same human feelings.’ 1 Understandably, as Tsurayuki says, human cultures differ from one another, which is also the case for China and Japan. However, because all people face the same natural circumstances – they ‘live under the same moon’ – they are similar in terms of emotions. One might be inclined to add that this is especially true for love. Love simply is a universal feeling! It might seem so, initially. Love is, however, ‘a strange thing’, and it is not easy to grasp. A Japanese novelist Tanizaki Jun’ichirō (1886–1965) proves

Eine literarische Analyse

A Literary Analysis

1 Tosa Nikki, 20. Tag, Nihon Kōten Bungaku Taikei, Bd. 20 (Tōkyō: Iwanami, 1957).

Liebe und Sinnlichkeit (恋愛及び色情) auf das besondere Liebesverständnis der Japaner hin. 2 Er konstatiert, dass die Japaner „ein Volk sind, das den direkten Ausdruck von Liebe geringschätzt und das zudem mit einer eher schwachen Sinnlichkeit ausgestattet ist“ 3. Er führt zur Stützung dieser These an, dass die kanonische Literatur in China und Japan nicht von der Liebe handelt. Die kanonische Literatur Ostasiens besteht in seinen Augen nämlich nicht aus Gedichten, Romanen und Theaterstücken, sondern aus den moralischen Texten des Konfuzianismus und Buddhismus. 4 In der Tat ist dort nur selten von Liebe die Rede. Schauen wir auf die beiden Bestandteile des Wortes ren’ai, das Tanizaki für die Liebe benutzt: Der Ausdruck ren 恋 kommt im klassischen chinesischen Kanon nur selten vor, zu ai 愛 findet man dagegen zahlreiche Stellen.

this point in his essay Love and Passion (恋愛及び色情) about the particular understanding of love by his compatriots. 2 He argues that the Japanese ‘give little value to direct expression of love and are endowed with rather weak sensuality 3. To support this thesis, he adds that traditional Chinese and Japanese literature does not undertake the theme of love. In his eyes, the canon of East Asian literature is not made of poems, novels and theatre plays, but moralistic Confucian and Buddhist texts. 4 These do, in fact, rarely speak of love. If we examine the two components of the word ren’ai, which Tanizaki uses to mean ‘love’, we will find out that ren 恋 rarely comes up in Chinese classics; however, there are countless examples of ai 愛.

Notes 2 Tanizaki Jun’ichirō gilt als einer

2 Tanizaki Jun’ichirō is known as one

der einflussreichsten Schriftsteller

of the most influential modern Japa-

des modernen Japan. Als Kind des 20.

nese writers. Living in the 20th century,

Jahrhunderts beschäftigte er sich nicht

he did not only deal with traditional

nur mit der japanischen Tradition, son-

Japanese themes, but was also heavily

dern wurde auch stark von westlichen

influenced by such Western authors

Autoren wie Edgar Allan Poe und Oscar

as Edgar Allan Poe and Oscar Wilde.

Wilde beeinflusst. Neben Romanen

Besides novels and short stories, Ta-

und Kurzgeschichten hat Tanizaki auch

nizaki also wrote essays, in which he

Essays verfasst, in denen er sich inten-

pondered intensely upon the relation-

siv mit dem Verhältnis zwischen Ost

ship between East and West, as well as

und West sowie zwischen Tradition und

tradition and modernity.

Moderne beschäftigt. 3 Tanizaki Jun’ichirō: Liebe und Sinnlichkeit (Zürich: Manesse, 2011), übersetzt von E. Klopfenstein, S.49. 4 Ebd., S.10-14

3 Tanizaki Jun’ichirō: Liebe und Sinnlichkeit (Zürich: Manesse, 2011), translation by E. Klopfenstein, p.49. 4 Ibid., p.10-14.

Dabei bezeichnet ai jedoch normalerweise nicht die partnerschaftliche Liebe, die Tanizaki in erster Linie im Sinn hat. Allgemein bezeichnet der Ausdruck, dass einem etwas am Herzen liegt, er bezieht sich nicht immer auf Menschen: „Der Meister sprach: ‚Dir geht es um das Schaf, mir ist am Ritus gelegen.‘“ Oder: „Du liebst die Schafe, ich liebe den Ritus.‘“ 5 Darüber hinaus bezeichnet ai die Liebe des Herrschers zu seinem Volk sowie die Beziehung zwischen Eltern und Kindern. Wir sehen hier also, dass der Liebesbegriff in der ostasiatischen Literatur ähnlich weit ist wie der europäische Begriff. Auch im Deutschen oder Englischen bezeichnen wir die Liebe zu Eltern, Kindern, Geschwistern, Freunden, ja sogar zu Tieren und Dingen mit demselben Wort. Was im chinesischen Sprachgebrauch jedoch zu fehlen scheint, ist die partnerschaftliche Liebe. Wie aber steht es mit folgendem Gedicht aus dem Buch der Lieder 6 – hier in der Übersetzung von James Legge (1815-1897) 7:

Nevertheless, ai usually does not describe love between partners, which Tanizaki has in mind in the aforementioned quote. In general, it describes the act of caring about something, not necessarily always a person: ‘The Master said, "Ci, you love the sheep; I love the ceremony.”’ 5 Thus, ai refers to the love of a ruler towards their people or the relationship between parents and children. This notion of love in East Asian literature is, in this sense, similar to the European one. In German or English we express the love towards parents, children, siblings, friends, or even animals and things, with the same word. What seems to be lacking in the Chinese language use, though, is love between partners. Let us, however, read a certain poem from the Book of Odes 6 – as translated by James Legge (1815–1897) 7:

In the low, wet grounds, the mulberry trees are beautiful, And their leaves are dark. When I see the princely men, Their virtuous fame draws them close [to my heart]. In my heart I love them, And why should I not say so? In the core of my heart I keep them, And never will forget them.

Ist das etwa kein Liebesgedicht? Jedenfalls nicht so wie wir auf den ersten Blick erwarten. Das Gedicht handelt nämlich nicht von der Liebe einer Frau zu den princely men (君子), sondern von der Ehrfurcht den Ahnen gegenüber. Auch hier geht es also nicht um amouröse Beziehungen.

Is this not a love poem? Well, not in the sense that we expect it to be at first. In fact, it does not speak of woman’s love towards ‘princely men’ (君子) but honouring the ancestors. So, this poem neither deals with romantic relationships.

Notes 5 Gespräche (Lunyu), III:17. 6 Das Buch der Lieder ist einer der fünf klassischen Texte des chinesischen Altertums. Die Gedichtsam-

5 The Analects (Lunyu), III:17 in The Chinese Classics, volume 1 (1861), translation by James Legge. 6 The Book of Leaves is one of the five

mlung ist zwischen den 10. und dem 7.

all-time Chinese classics. This antholo-

Jahrhundert vor unserer Zeitrechnung

gy of poetry was compiled between the

entstanden und enthält 305 Gedichte

10 th and 7 th century BE, and consists of

von verschiedenen Autoren und recht

305 poems of various length written by

unterschiedlicher Länge.

various authors.

7 James Legge: The Book of Ancient

Poetry (London: Trübner & Co., 1876),

S.277

p.277.

Liebe im Buddhismus

Love in Buddhism

Während die konfuzianische Literatur die partnerschaftliche Liebe ausspart, wird sie von buddhistischen Autoren direkt kritisiert. So dient der Ausdruck ai 愛 zur Übersetzung des Sanskrit-Ausdrucks tṛṣṇā, der das Anhaften an den Dingen bezeichnet, das für unsere leidvollen Wiedergeburten verantwortlich ist. Der japanische Mönch Kūkai (774835) schildert das Wirken der Liebe im menschlichen Leben wie folgt:

While the Confucian literature simply does not mention love between partners, Buddhist authors openly criticize it. In their case, the expression ai 愛 serves as the translation of a Sanskrit expression tṛṣṇā, which describes the attachment to things that is responsible for our painful rebirth. The Japanese monk Kūkai (774–835) portrays the impact of love on our human life as follows:

„So wie ein Magnet Eisen anzieht, so streben Mann und Frau zueinander. So wie Bronzeschalen das Wasser des Mondes sammeln, so kommen Eltern zu ihren Kindern. Eltern und Kinder sind einander zugetan, doch sie kennen nicht den Grund ihrer Zuneigung. Mann und Frau lieben einander, doch sie verstehen nicht den Grund ihrer Liebe. Ineinander strömende Flüsse verstärken sich, umeinander fliegende Funken steigern ihre Glut. Mann und Frau sind gebunden durch das Seil ihrer Illusionen, trunken vom Wein ihrer Unwissenheit. Ihre Verbindung ist wie ein Treffen im Traum, wie eine flüchtige Begegnung auf Reisen.“ 8

8 Kūkai: Der Schlüssel zum Ge-

‘Furthermore, a man and a woman hasten to be united, like iron particles attracted by a magnet. As a crystal attracts water [when exposed to the moonlight], so woman responds naturally to man and generates offspring, and thus parents and children live happily together. Although children and parents may love each other, they do not know the character of their love. Although man and wife may love each other, they do not know the nature of their love. Their love is like a flowing stream whose water changes perpetually, or like the sparks of a flame. They are bound by the rope of deluded thoughts and are intoxicated by the wine of ignorance. Their union is comparable to someone meeting another in a dream, or to travellers meeting each other by chance at the same inn.’ 8

8 Kūkai: The Precious Key to the Secret

heimen Schatzhaus (Hizōhōyaku);

Treasury (Hizōhōyaku) in Kukai:

T2426.77.363c15-19

Major Works (New York: Columbia University Press, 1972), translation by Yoshito S. Hakeda, p.164.

Kūkai charakterisiert die Liebe als unbewusst wirkende, verhängnisvolle Macht. Menschen verstehen die Ursache ihrer Zuneigung nicht und halten sie für etwas besonders Wertvolles. Es ist jedoch das Karma, das die Menschen zueinander treibt. Auch die Liebe zwischen Eltern und ihren Kindern ist nichts Heilsames, sie verstrickt uns ebenfalls nur noch tiefer in den Kreislauf der Wiedergeburten. Nicht die parteiische Neigung zu einzelnen Individuen, sondern allein das Mitgefühl mit allen leidenden Wesen vermag uns nach buddhistischer Auffassung aus den Fängen des Karmas zu befreien. Entsprechend hält auch der buddhistische Schriftsteller Yoshida Kenkō (1283-1350) die Liebenssehnsucht für eine irrationale Kraft:

„Nichts verwirrt den Menschen tiefer als die sinnliche Lust. Was für ein törichtes Ding ist doch das Menschenherz! Obwohl jeder Duft sehr flüchtig ist und wir wissen, dass man die Gewänder nur eben eingeräuchert hat, klopft uns bei erlesenem Duft bestimmt das Herz. Als der Berggenius Kume die weißen Waden einer Wäscherin sah, soll er, was ich gern glauben will, die Kraft zu fliegen verloren haben. Ja, das reine Weiß an üppigen Armen und Beinen ist nicht künstlich aufgetragen!“ 9

Kūkai characterises love as an unconscious force that is the source of disasters. While humans do not understand why they become fond of one another and consider it something especially worthy, it is karma that drives them towards each other. Love between parents and children is nothing holy either, as it only ensnares us deeper and deeper in the cycle of reincarnation. According to Buddhist thought, not a biased affection towards separate individuals, but only empathy towards all suffering beings enables us to break free from the karmic prison. It is in this vein that the Buddhist writer Yoshida Kenkō (1283–1350) describes the longing for love as an irrational force:

‘Nothing so distracts the human heart as sexual desire. How foolish men’s hearts are! Aroma, for instance, is a mere transient thing, yet a whiff of delightful incense from a woman’s robes will always excite a man, though he knows perfectly well that it is just a passing effect of robe-smoking. The wizard priest of Kume is said to have lost his supernatural powers when he spied the white legs of a woman as she squatted washing clothes. I can quite believe it – after all, the beautiful, plump, glowing flesh of a woman’s arm or leg is quite a different matter from some artificial allurement.’ 9

9 Yoshida Kenkō: Betrachtungen aus

9 Yoshida Kenkō: Essays in Idleness,

der Stille, übersetzt von Oscar Benl

VIII in Kenkō and Chōmei. Essays in

(Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1985), S.11.

Idleness and Hojōki (Great Britain: Penguin Classics, 2013), translation by Meredith McKinney, p.61.

Kenkō vertritt die Auffassung, dass die erotische Zuneigung zu einem Menschen ein Zeichen der Schwäche ist. Zugleich bringt er aber sein Verständnis für diese menschliche Schwäche zum Ausdruck und seufzt über die Anziehungskraft schöner junger Frauen. Dass ihn die Liebe fasziniert, wird auch in einer anderen Passage seiner TextSammlung Tsurezuregusa deutlich:

„Mag einer in tausend Dingen noch so hervorragen - wenn er die Liebe missachtet, so ist es traurig um ihn bestellt, und er gleicht einem kostbaren Becher ohne Boden. Wenn einer, von nächtlichem Tau durchnässt, ruhelos umherirrt, in seinem Herzen keine Zeit findet, auf elterliche Ermahnungen und das Gerede der Leute zu hören, von uferloser Sehnsucht bedrängt wird und nachts dann doch meist allein auf seinem Lager liegt und keinen Schlaf findet - so hat das ganz besonderen Reiz. Freilich ist es besser, von den Frauen umworben zu werden, als sich in der Liebe zu ihnen ganz zu verlieren.“ 10

Kenkō is of the opinion that being erotically attracted to another person is a sign of weakness. However, at the same time, he expresses understanding for these human shortcomings and sighs at the magnetic powers of pretty young women. He makes it quite clear that love fascinates him in another paragraph of his essay collection, Tsurezuregusa:

‘No matter how splendid in every way, there is something dreadfully lacking in a man who does not pursue the art of love. He is, to coin the old phrase, like a beautiful wine cup that lacks a base. The elegant thing is for a lover to wander aimlessly hither and yon, drenched with the frosts or dews of night, tormented by fears of his parents’ reproaches and the censure of the world, the heart beset with uncertainties, yet for all that sleeping often alone, though always fitfully. On the other hand, he shouldn’t lose himself to love too thoroughly, or gain the reputation of being putty in women’s hands.’ 10

10 Yoshida Kenkō: Essays in Idleness, VIII in Kenkō and Chōmei. Essays in Idle10 Yoshida Kenkō: Betrachtungen

ness and Hojōki (Great Britain: Penguin

aus der Stille, übersetzt von Oscar Benl

Classics, 2013), translation by Meredith

(Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 1985), S.9.

McKinney, p.59.

Kenkō schaut mit einer ironischen Distanz auf das Treiben der Menschen. Es fasziniert ihn zu sehen, wie ein junger Mensch von Liebessehnsucht umgetrieben wird, und er gewinnt solchen menschlichen Szenen einen ästhetischen Reiz ab. Darüber hinaus scheint Kenkō sagen zu wollen, dass wir Erfahrungen mit dem schicksalshaften Wirken der Liebe machen müssen, um die buddhistische Heilsbotschaft verstehen und die Liebe schließlich überwinden zu können. Der amerikanische Rechtswissenschaftler und Japan-Experte Mark D. West weist in seinem Buch Lovesick Japan darauf hin, dass das Bild der Liebe als verhängnisvoller Macht bis heute in Japan verbreitet ist. Er berichtet von Gerichtsurteilen, in denen vorausgesetzt wird, dass Taten wie Stalking, Selbstmord oder Mord aus Liebe geschehen können. Auch in diesen Urteilen wird die Liebe nicht als Ausdruck der individuellen Persönlichkeit gewertet, sondern als Gefühl, das uns überkommt und Normverletzungen verständlich werden lässt. 11

11 Mark D. West: Lovesick Japan

Kenkō distances himself ironically from people’s passions. It fascinates him to see how the longing for love ruins a young man, and he finds an aesthetic charm in such human scenes. Furthermore, he seems to be saying that we must experience the fateful doings of love in order to understand the idea of Buddhistic redemption and, eventually, overcome love. An American legal scholar and expert on Japan Mark D. West in his book Lovesick Japan points to the fact that even now the image of love as a disaster-bringing force is widespread in Japan. He mentions legal verdicts which conclude that acts such as stalking, suicide or murder may be committed because of love; they do not consider love an expression of individuality, but a feeling that overwhelms us and justifies breaking the norms. 11

11 Mark D. West: Lovesick Japan (Itha-

(Ithaka, N.Y.: Cornell University Press,

ka, N.Y.: Cornell University Press,

2011), S.30-67, siehe vor allem S.30f.

2011), p.30-67, mainly p.30f. and

sowie 36-47.

36-47.

Liebe in der mittelalterlichen Literatur

Love in Medieval Literature

Die belletristische Literatur der HeianZeit (794-1185) scheint allerdings ein ganz anderes, positives Bild der Liebe zu zeichnen. Für die Hofdame und Schriftstellerin Sei Shōnagon ist das Warten auf den Geliebten ein ganz besonderer Moment der Schönheit im menschlichen Leben:

The belles-lettres literature from the Heian period (794–1185) seems to paint a completely different, positive image of love. For a court lady and writer Sei Shōnagon, waiting for the beloved is a particularly beautiful moment for a human:

„In der Nacht wenn man jemanden erwartet, dem fallenden Regen lauschen und dem Nachtwind, der am Hause rüttelt. O wie beginnt unser Herz da plötzlich zu klopfen!“ 12

Auch Tanizaki weist auf die Sonderrolle der Heian-Literatur hin. 13 Er fragt jedoch weiter: Was ist das für eine Liebe, die da beschrieben wird? Im Genji Monogatari und zahlreichen anderen Texten der Hofliteratur erfahren wir, dass sich die Geliebten jener Zeit vornehmlich durch einen Stellschirm unterhalten, anhand von Gedichten miteinander kommunizieren, und sich kaum einmal zu Gesicht bekommen.

12 Helmut Bode (Hrsg.): Das Kopfkis-

‘On a night when you’re waiting for someone to come, there’s a sudden gust of rain and something rattles in the wind, making your heart suddenly beat faster’ 12

Tanizaki as well remarks upon the significance of Heian literature. 13 However, he asks on: What kind of love does it describe? From Genji Monogatari and countless other court writings we find out that the lovers of that time mainly spoke through a screen, communicated through poems and barely saw each other’s faces.

12 Sei Shōnagon: The Pillow Book,

senbuch der Dame Sei Shonagon, über-

XXVI (Great Britain: Penguin Classics

setzt von A. Pfizmaier (Frankfurt a.M.:

2006), translation by Meredith McKin-

Insel Verlag, 1975), S.29.

ney, p.71.

13 Tanizaki: Liebe und Sinnlichkeit, S.17-29.

13 Tanizaki: Liebe und Sinnlichkeit, p.17-29.

Die Frauen sind in voluminöse Gewänder gekleidet und ihre langen Haare bedecken einen großen Teil des Körpers. Da sie den größten Teil des Tages in dunklen Gemächern im Inneren des Hauses verbrachten, waren die adligen Frauen der Heian-Zeit für ihre Liebhaber kaum einmal sichtbar. 14 Frauen waren, so Tanizaki, „Wesen der Nacht“. Dies bringt auch ein Gedicht von Ono no Komachi zum Ausdruck:

Wenn übermächtig das Verlangen mich heimsucht, wend‘ ich das Gewand meiner finstern Nächte von außen nach innen um. 15

Die ausdruckstarke Geste, das nächtliche Gewand umzuwenden, hat noch eine tiefere kulturelle Bedeutung. So glaubte man damals nämlich, das Umwenden könne bewirken, dass man dem Geliebten im Traum begegnet. Gerade die sinnenfreudige Literatur der Heian-Zeit vermittelt somit eine kulturell sehr eigentümliche Form der Liebe.

14 Tanizaki: Liebe und Sinnlichkeit, S. 51-60. 15 Kokinwakashū, 12:554, übersetzt

The women were dressed in voluminous robes and their long hair hid most of their body. Because they spent most of their days in their dark chambers, noble women from the Heian period were rarely ever visible to their lover. 14 Tanizaki considered them ‘creatures of the night’. Which is also expressed in a poem by Ono no Komachi:

When my desire grows too fierce I wear my bed clothes inside out, dark as the night’s rough husk. 15

The meaningful gesture to turn over the nightgown has a deeper cultural meaning. In fact, people back then believed that such a procedure can make one meet their beloved in a dream. In this way a culturally peculiar form of love is conveyed in the sensual writings of the Heian period.

14 Tanizaki: Liebe und Sinnlichkeit, p. 51-60. 15 The Ink Dark Moon. Love Poems

von Wilhelm Gundert, in: Ders. u.a.

by Ono no Komachi and Izumi Shikibu,

(Hrsg.) Lyrik des Ostens: Gedichte der

Women of the Ancient Court of Japan.

Völker Ostasiens, C. Hanser, 1978.

Dennoch begegnen wir in der japanischen Literatur auch vertrauten Liebesvorstellungen und das ausgerechnet in den buddhistisch gefärbten setsuwa-Erzählungen. Diese relativ kurzen Erzählungen aus dem japanischen Mittelalter (ca. 800-1300) berichten meist von übernatürlichen Geschehnissen. Im Konjaku Monogatari (Geschichten von Jetzt und Einst) wird die Geschichte eines Mannes erzählt, der aus Karrieregründen seine geliebte Gattin verlässt und an einem anderen Ort eine neue Frau nimmt. Dennoch kann er seine ursprüngliche Frau nicht vergessen und kehrt eines Tages zu ihr zurück. Nachdem er die ganze Nacht mit ihr im Bett liegend plaudert und seine Reue eingesteht, muss er allerdings am nächsten Morgen feststellen, dass sie tatsächlich bereits in seiner Abwesenheit gestorben war und er nur noch mit ihrem Geist gesprochen hat. 16 Die setsuwaSammlung Kokonchomonjū (Sammlung bekannter Geschichten aus Altertum und Gegenwart) erzählt wiederum von einer Frau, die sich von ihrem Mann distanziert, da er ihr irgendwann zu hässlich erscheint. Dem Mann gelingt es jedoch, die Liebe seiner Frau zurückzugewinnen, indem er offen seine Trauer über ihre Gefühlskälte besingt. Danach, so heißt es, leben sie noch lang und glücklich zusammen. 17 Hier finden wir somit ein romantisches Bild der partnerschaftlichen Liebe, ja sogar der klassisch monogamen Ehe. 16 Konjaku, übersetzt von Satoshi

However, we also encounter familiar ideas of love in Japanese literature; and, of all things, in the Buddhist-tinted setsuwa stories. These relatively short forms from the Japanese Middle Ages (ca. 800–1300) mostly depict supernatural events. In Konjaku Monogatari (Tales from the Past) we read about a man who leaves his beloved wife because of career-related reasons and remarries somewhere else. Nevertheless, he cannot forget about his first spouse, so one day he heads back. After talking to the wife for the whole night in bed and repenting, in the morning he finds out that the wife died while he was gone and he only talked with her ghost. 16 Then again, the setsuwa anthology Kokonchomonjū (A Collection of Notable Tales Old and New) tells about a woman who distances herself from her husband, because he seems ugly to her. The man, however, manages to win the love of his wife back by telling her openly how much her frigidness saddens him. Afterwards, as we read, they live happily ever after. 17 These stories do not only show a romantic image of love between partners, but also classical monogamous marriage.

16 Konjaku (Zürich: Max Niehans Ver-

Tsukayoshi (Zürich: Max Niehans Ver-

lag, 1956), translation by Satoshi Tsu-

lag, 1956), S.113-116.

kayoshi, p.113-116.

17 Kokonchomonjū, §319, Nihon

17 Kokonchomonjū, §319, Ni-

Kōten Bungaku Taikei, Bd. 84 (Tōkyō:

hon Kōten Bungaku Taikei, Bd. 84

Iwanami, 1966), S.252f.

(Tōkyō: Iwanami, 1966), p.252f.

Innige Gefühle und äußerliche Gesten – eine universale Differenz

Inner Feelings and External Gestures – a Universal Difference

Tanizaki zufolge besteht die Gemeinsamkeit dieser verschiedenen Formen der Liebe in Japan darin, dass die Liebe nur indirekt gezeigt und nicht offen beschworen oder gar glorifiziert wird. Auch er selbst schätzt besonders die Frauen, deren Verlangen sich hinter einer sittsamen Haltung verbirgt. Erst darin bestehe ihr besonderer Liebreiz, den Tanizaki mit dem Ausdruck iroke (色気) bezeichnet. 18 Mark West weist ebenfalls auf die Überwindung hin, die es viele Japaner*innen kostet, ihre Liebe unmittelbar zum Ausdruck zu bringen. Er zitiert aus einer Kampagne der Sumitomo Bank aus dem Jahr 2000, in der diese ältere Paare dazu aufgefordert hatte, einander Liebesbriefe zu schreiben und diese zu veröffentlichen.

According to Tanizaki, these various forms of love in Japan have one thing in common – the fact that love is shown only indirectly and not openly confessed or glorified in any way. He himself treasures in particular those women whose desires are hidden behind modest behaviour. That is how they gain their particular charm, which Tanizaki calls iroke (色気). 18 Mark West also remarks how much willpower it costs the Japanese to express love directly. He brings up a Sumitomo Bank campaign from year 2000 that encouraged elderly couples to write love letters to each other, which would later be published.

Die Schwierigkeit, die eigene Liebe direkt zu zeigen, ist dabei ein häufiges Thema. So schreibt ein Mann an seine Frau: „Nächsten Sonntag möchte ich Dir sagen ‚Ich liebe Dich‘. Bitte lache nicht über mich.“ 19 In dieser Hinsicht gibt es gewiss deutliche Unterschiede zwischen den Ländern und Kulturen. Interessant ist aber auch die Bewertung dieses Unterschiedes. Während West solche Zurückhaltung in der Äußerung der Liebe rührend, aber auch ein wenig befremdlich findet, lobt Tanizaki sie als Gefühlstiefe und Aufrichtigkeit. Damit suggeriert Tanizaki, Kulturen, die die Liebe offener zum Ausdruck bringen, seien oberflächlich und weniger aufrichtig. Dies wäre natürlich eine zu grobe Verallgemeinerung. Vielleicht aber will er vor allem sagen, dass Liebe und Sinnlichkeit verinnerlichte Zustände sind, die sich nicht in Gesten und oberflächlichen Bekundungen erschöpfen. Und dieses Anliegen können auch Menschen aus anderen Ländern nachvollziehen, über denen derselbe Mond scheint.

18 Tanizaki: Liebe und Sinnlichkeit, S.66-71. 19 West: Lovesick Japan, S.35.

The difficulty of showing love often comes up in those confessions. One husband writes to his wife: ‘Next Sunday I would like to tell you I love you. Please don’t laugh at me.’ 19 This is a clear example of discrepancies between countries and cultures. It is, however, also interesting how we evaluate these differences. While Mark West finds such restraint in showing love moving but also a little disconcerting, Tanizaki praises it as a proof of how deep and true ones feelings are. Thus, he suggests that cultures in which love is expressed more openly are shallow and less honest. That would of course be too strong of a generalisation. Perhaps, in the end, the gist of his thought is that love and passion are internal conditions that go beyond gestures and superficial displays. And that concern can be understood also by people from other countries, above which shines the same moon.

18 Tanizaki: Liebe und Sinnlichkeit, p.66-71. 19 West: Lovesick Japan, p.35.

ARTS

LITERATURE / PHILOSOPHY / ILLUSTRATED ESSAY

L'AMOUREUSE

The Story of Kaguya-Hime Through the Sixth Key of the Tarot Molly Pi

Inspired by the Japanese Heian story, ‘The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter’ (Taketori monogatari 竹取物語), this new rendition of the sixth key of the Tarot, the Lover, shows a maiden standing still with joined hands. Her gaze is fixed on the viewer. On either side of her are two men: on the left an old man in humble robes, on the right a young man in royal garments. They are in the midst of a bamboo forest clearing. The full moon is shining high in the sky (Fig. 1).

In a story written during the Heian period (794–1185), a bamboo cutter is working on a hillside when he is drawn by a shimmering light coming from a bamboo stem. There he finds a tiny baby, about the size of a human palm. He takes the baby home, and she grows into a beautiful maiden. She is named Kaguya–hime. Although the maiden spends most of her time in a curtained chamber, the rumours of her beauty spread and reach many suitors. To win her over, the suitors seek to bring her impossibly rare gifts, but they all fail. Echoes of Kaguya’s beauty reach as far as the emperor, who falls in love in the instant he lays eyes on her. The emperor asks for her hand in marriage, but she refuses, explaining that she could never live at the palace. The girl then

becomes melancholic, causing concern from her father. ‘As I gaze on the moon I am sad because my heart is broken as I consider the wretchedness of this world’ she says. Unable to keep the secret any longer, Kaguya–hime reveals that she was born on the Moon, and that the time has come for her to return to her birthplace with an escort of Moonfolk coming to take her back. Despite the efforts of her adoptive parents and the emperor, Kaguya is reunited with her people. For the emperor, she leaves a letter and a small bottle containing an elixir of life. Unable to be with his beloved, the emperor decides to burn the elixir on Mount Fuji, Japan’s highest mountain and closest place to the moon.

Fig. 1 Molly Pi, L’Amoureuse, 2022, 22.6 × 33.8 cm, digital paInting.

For the fourth issue of ‘Wasshoi!’, dedicated to the theme of love, I chose to draw a personal interpretation of the Tarot’s sixth Major Arcana, basing the iconography on the story of Princess Kaguya. The idea of combining a Japanese story from the Heian period with a Tarot card might seem like a kitsch hybridisation, a free artistic practice, or a rather unorthodox juxtaposition of two distinct and unrelated cultural assets. However, one thing I have learned (and come to love) in the course of my art–historical and anthropological research 1, is that the very idea of ‘uncontaminated tradition’ is an ideological construct, and that a natural component of any cultural phenomenon is precisely its plurality. Based on this assumption, it can be assumed that

Notes 1 The research referred to is a doctoral thesis currently in progress at the University of Lausanne. The subject of investigation is the iconography of the Tarot in the twentieth century, with particular consideration for the so-called esoteric origins of the cards.

understanding cultural borrowing as a creative process (rather than mere appropriation) might give access to new insights on a given culture. The images that I make are deeply influenced by my research practice and are not conceived to be ‘beautiful’ or ‘graphically pleasing’ above all things. The impact, which I wish to produce via my image–making, is instead intended to evoke a sense of questioning and reflection, by offering the conceptual keys necessary for the ‘reading’: exactly as a visitor would expect during a card divination session.

Tarot reading is an example of a Western cultural practice imported, borrowed and reimagined by the Japanese. Tarot is a card game that originated in Renaissance Italy. The oldest Tarot, consisting of 78 cards divided into 22 Major and 56 Minor Arcana, is the famous Visconti–Sforza deck, dating from the mid–15th century. However, cards divided into suits are much older, and probably originated in Central Asia before arriving in Europe along the Silk Road. In Japan, books about Western occult practices can be found from as early as the 1930s, but is was during the 1970s that Tarot became widespread and turned into a mainstream phenomenon 2. Card readings took place in divination shops, shopping malls; or in cafes and bars during events such as festivals and tours. In the contemporary era, this liking for Tarot cards has

2 Laura Miller, 'Tantalizing Tarot

also extended into mobile applications, automated booths and websites that offer readings to visitors. Tarot imagery further surfaces in a range of cultural products such as manga series, novels, and video games 3. As Miller notes, the Tarot has met with such success in Japanese recreational circles that it has taken on various forms in which the so–called Western Tarot (seiyō tarotto) is but one of many variations 4. Another rather distinct feature of Japanese Tarot is the dominating presence of female consumers and practitioners in the industry. This has lead to the creation of Tarot customised according to visual trends that are strongly marked by socially recognised ‘female qualities’ such as kawaii aesthetics, zoomorphism, and recurring female characters.

4 Laura Miller, 'Japanese Tarot

and Cute Cartomancy in Japan,' Japa-

Cards,' ASIANetwork Exchange 24, no. 1

nese Studies 31, no. 1 (2011): 78.

(2017): 2.

3 Laura Miller, 'Tantalizing Tarot and Cute Cartomancy in Japan,' Japanese Studies 31, no. 1 (2011): 79.

Therefore, with the intention of acknowledging Japan’s use of Tarot, I chose a narrative centred on the female figure. In order to remain faithful to the Western tradition, I decided to use – as an artistic reference – the Arcana VI drawn in 1889 by the Swiss occultist Oswald Wirth (1860–1943): L’Amoureux (Fig. 2). Although most of the Tarot cards produced in Japan refer to the more popular Rider–Waite deck 5, the choice to adopt Wirth’s Tarot for the realisation of this drawing is based on two principles. The first is of a purely cultural nature: as the ‘Wasshoi!’ magazine is based in Switzerland, I thought it more pertinent to refer to a Swiss Tarot. The second reason, however, would require much more space than I have at my disposal in this short text. I will limit myself to saying that Wirth, contrary to Waite, was seeking to create a Tarot that would follow the presumed original meaning of an initiatory philosophy, which would have survived from ancient times to his own day thanks to the symbolic language, codified among other things in the Tarot. Referring to

Wirth’s Tarot therefore also allows me, indirectly, to draw on the philosophical traditions evoked by the artist. One of the most obvious differences between the two decks is in fact found in Arcana VI, the card dedicated to the theme of love. Whereas Waite’s deck shows a scene reminiscent of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden (Fig. 3), Wirth depicts a man in the centre, two women on either side and Eros above them in the middle of a globe. Although Wirth's iconography is itself derived from the Marseille Tarot, the contents are, as explained in his ‘Le Tarot des Imagiers du Moyen Âge’ (1926), strongly rooted in Hermeticism 6, and thus also in Greek–Hellenistic mythology and astrology, as well as in alchemy and occultism. As a whole, the sixth key of his Tarot illustrates the conscious mechanisms of the person who receives impressions of the physical world and reacts according to their sensitivity. Rather than being subject to unconscious impulse, i.e. reflex, The Lover acts by deliberation and choice.

Notes 5 The first edition of the Rid-

one of the most influential figures in

er-Waite deck was published in

contemporary magic and occultism.

1909. The cards were made by artist

The success of his deck, whose ico-

Pamela Colman Smith (1878–1951)

nography was heavily drawn from the

under the direction of the British oc-

late 15th century Sola–Busca deck, is

cultist Arthur Edward Waite (1857–

widely attributed both to the intui-tive

1942). Waite had been a member of

design and the full illustration of the

the Hermetic Order of the Golden

cards, including the ‘pips’, i.e. the Mi-

Dawn, a secret society founded in

nor Arcana cards.

1888 devoted to the study of the occult, and is still regarded today as

Fig. 2 Oswald Wirth, L’amoureux, 1926, 6.5 × 12.5 cm, chromolithography, private collection.

Fig. 3 Pamela Colman Smith, The Lovers, 1968, 7.2 × 12.1 cm, chromolithography, British Museum, London, inv. 1982, U.4643., 1–78.

6 The term ‘Hermeticism’ refers to

liberation through wisdom and knowl-

a wide set of philosophical systems,

edge. During the Middle Ages and

which flourished in Greco-Roman

the early modern period, the classical

culture from the 1st century AD and

writings were systematically joined

were revived until modern times. The

to astrological, alchemical and occult

late-Hellenistic sources are general-

writings, resulting in what is known

ly attributed to the mythical figure

as Hermetic philosophy, or ‘Hermet-

Hermes Trismegistus (a syncretic

icism’, which includes both classical

combination of the Greek god Hermes

sources, known as 'Hermetic',

and the Egyptian god Thoth), whose

and later treatises.

teachings discuss the creation of man and the conditions of his spiritual

Kaguya–Hime: The Light of Detachment While the 'choice' in the original Tarot is usually symbolised by the presence of two women, one a temptress and the other virtuous, Kaguya–hime’s choice is not limited to a romantic act, but rather a choice that also involves family and a sense of belonging. Her integrity and detachment from the illusions of the outer world are expressed by the visual rendering of her face: a collage reminiscent of surrealist techniques aiming to address the variety of semantic lay-

ers in our reality and their irrational but truthful juxtaposition. In addition, since Kaguya–hime does not belong to this world, it seemed natural to give her a face whose modernity will communicate directly with the viewer. Have you ever stopped to linger in the void, having the impression of touching another, truer dimension of existence? This is what Kaguya–hime is experiencing in the drawing.

The Father and the Suitor: Figures of the Past In contrast to Kaguya–hime’s, the iconography of the two men is strongly rooted in the Japanese visual arts, with the old man inspired by a Mitsutani Kunishirō (1874–1936) painting and the emperor by a Kikuchi Yōsai (1781–1878) woodblock print. I try to leave very few elements to chance in my drawings. It is not really a matter of expressing myself spontaneously, but rather of constructing and presenting a discourse. I have chosen to treat the figures of the two men with a clear iconography in order to convey their historical and cultural roots. The design, drawn from visual sources and replicated by myself without any particular changes, symbolises a fixed state of things, or a state of being (trapped) in the past. Although Kaguya–hime’s relationships with earthlings, particularly her father and the emperor, were characterised by affection and love, her melancholy was a sign of her need for change. 30

The Bird: The Alchemical Transformation A bird is flying upwards with open wings. It represents the true focal point of the drawing, as it is placed in the exact centre of the composition. It points to the moon, at whose centre lies a discreetly–drawn silhouette of a winged human with androgynous features. A person familiar with Kaguya–hime’s story will immediately connect these elements to the Moonfolk (described as angel-like in the English translation of the story 7) or to the feathered cloak that was thrown over Kaguya–hime before her return to the homeland. On the other hand, a person familiar with Hermeticism will be able to link the symbols to a series of hermetic emblems. In alchemy, birds were often used as symbols for the various stages of transformation that lead matter, and by extension the soul, to be purified.

Among those most commonly represented are the raven, the swan, the peacock, the eagle, the phoenix and the pelican. In a series of collected treatises and manuscripts from the early modern period, commonly known as ‘The Crowning of Nature’, the bird is also used to establish complex emblems representing the aforementioned (al)chemical phases. As shown in this example (Fig. 4) drawn from a manuscript belonging to a collection by writer, Manly Palmer Hall (1901-1990), birds (often resembling doves) are depicte inside vials, together with other symbolic elements such as stars, planets, and natural and atmospheric elements, forming emblems. In this case, they form the thirty-second emblem: the ‘third separation’ (separatio tertia).

Fig. 4 Unknown author, Separation Tertia, 1718–1825, Manly Palmer Hall collection of alchemical manuscripts, box no. 4, Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.

7 Frederick Victor Dickins, The Old Bamboo–Hewer’s Story (Taketori Monogatari). The Earliest of the Japanese Romances, Written in the Tenth Century (Tokyo: San Kaku Sha, 1888), 33.

The Elixir of Life: The Alchemist’s Quest In Japan, a collection of poems entitled ‘Man’yōshū’ (Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves 万葉集, c. a. 755 AD), mentions a ‘water of youth’, ochimizu (変若水), owned by the moon god Tsukuyomi. Hence, the association between the moon and the elixir of life, far from being an invention of the unknown Heian author, is found in Shinto tradition, and provides the Lover's card drawing with an additional meaning: the quest for knowledge. This finally brings us back to the androgynous silhouette in the lunar globe. It has a threefold function: the first is to evoke the Moonfolk, the

second is to relate to the iconography of Wirth's Tarot and the figure of Eros (Fig. 2), while the third function is to symbolise the elixir of life. In European alchemical treatises, the elixir could take various symbolic forms, such as the ‘philosopher's stone', the ‘red tincture’, the phoenix, the pelican, the king, the winged serpent, the ouroboros, or - indeed - the androgyne, whose 'mixed' attributes would symbolise the union of opposites: i.e. the perfect and ultimate unification of all the existing principles of the world in the form of the 'fifth element’ (Fig. 5).

Fig. 5 Unknown author, Quinta Essentia Throni, 1718–1825, Manly Palmer Hall collection of alchemical manuscripts, box no. 4, Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles.

Astrology: A World Governed by Bigger Forces In contemporary Tarot readings, the association between cards and zodiac signs is widespread. This practice originated in the The Golden Dawn, notably thanks to Aleister Crowley, whose main ideas on Tarot were published in his work, 'The Book of Thoth' (1944). Crowley’s Lovers card, illustrated by the artist Lady Frieda Harris (1887–1962), depicts the attraction and union of opposites, that is, the attempt to restore the unitary and interconnected state of things. The goal of this union being, precisely, symbolised by the figure of the androgyne, depicted in the fourteenth key of the Tarot: ‘Art’ (or ‘Temperance’, according to most decks). In Crowley’s thinking, the sixth key of the Tarot is associated with the energy of the sign Gemini, whose focus on communication would ideally enable humans to connect to one another.

In Western astrology, the sign Gemini is ruled by the planet Mercury 8, whose kanji (水星, literally ‘Water star’ or ‘Water planet’) I have placed in the top right corner of the drawing. Following Tarot’s hermetic traditions and comparative methods, I chose to link two additional elements of Japanese astrology: the Black Tortoise, Genbu (玄武), and the Boar (亥). Both creatures are in fact associated with the water element (水), which in Godai (五大) philosophy 9 represents fluidity, change, movement, adaptability and emotion; concepts also expressed through the spherical shape of the full moon.

8 Mercury, the Roman counterpart of Hermes, is indeed the patron god of travellers and communication, among other things. 9 Godai refers to the Japanese Buddhist concept of the five elements. The elements follow an ascending order relating to the initiation path: Earth, Water, Fire, Wind and Void. The type of Buddhist pagoda known as gorintō, or ‘five ringed tower’, is a physical depiction of the ascending elements in the form of stacked shapes: a cube (earth), a sphere (water), a pyramid (fire), a crescent (wind) and a lotus (void).

…What is Love? Compared to Wirth’s Tarot, this drawing (Fig. 1) suggests an alternative destiny, not determined by the choice of a person (be it romantic or otherwise), but solely determined by one's own consciousness. Understood this way, the appearance of the Lover card during a reading would imply that the seeker (the person receiving the reading) needs to prioritise their intuition over external stimuli. It could signify the importance of turning inwards and starting to practise self–love and compassion in order to reach a state of awareness.

How can we actually love if we are not aware of who we are? How much is the love we feel determined by our identity? Can human love be unconditional, holy, and free from all constraints?

Suggested Readings Crowley, Aleister. The Book of Thoth. New York: Weiser Books, 1944. Dickins, Frederick Victor. The Old Bamboo–Hewer’s Story (Taketori Monogatari). The Earliest of the Japanese Romances, Written in the Tenth Century. Tokyo: San Kaku Sha, 1888. Miller, Laura. ‘Tantalizing Tarot and Cute Cartomancy in Japan.’ Japanese Studies 31, no. 1 (2011): 73–91. Miller, Laura. ‘Japanese Tarot Cards’ ASIANetwork Exchange 24, no. 1 (2017): 1–28. Wirth, Oswald. Le Tarot imagiers du Moyen Âge. Paris: Le Symbolisme, 1926. 35

Fig. 1 Inside front cover of an 1848 edition of The Treasure Box of Greater Learning for Women (Onna daigaku takarabako 女大学宝箱).

ARTS

EDUCATION

LOVE FOR SALE

Hiroshige III’s Instructions on How to Be a Good Wife Freya Terryn

A woman living in pre-modern Japan was, throughout her life, defined by subordination: to her father as a girl, to her husband during married life, and to her son once widowed. This is known as the ‘three obediences’ (sanjū 三従) and ensured that a woman would serve her husband and faithfully perform her duties as a daughter-in-law. In order for Japanese society to regulate women’s roles as wives and daughters-inlaw, the education of young girls was key. Throughout the Edo period (1603– 1868) there was a vast corpus of printed material aimed at female readers, and instructional manuals for women in particular. These manuals (commonly referred to in Japanese as joshi yō ōraimono 女子用往来物 or jokunsho 女訓書) were produced and circulated in considerable number, often lavishly illustrated. Most famous was the eighteenth-century Neo-Confucian treatise entitled The Treasure Box of Greater Learning for Women (Onna daigaku takarabako 女大学宝箱; henceforth Onna daigaku; Fig. 1), which underwent the release of twelve editions from 1716 to 1863. In its opening passage, the treatise emphasises that the education of young girls is paramount for women to take on their duties as wives and daughters-in-law: ‘Seeing that it is a girl’s destiny, on reaching womanhood, to go to

a new home, and live in submission to her father-in-law and mother-in-law, it is even more incumbent upon her than it is on a boy to receive with all reverence her parents’ instructions’. 1 Moral treatises like Onna Daigaku exerted an extraordinary influence on the woodblock print market, pushing the repertoire of ukiyo-e 浮世絵 far beyond the three classic themes of landscapes (fūkeiga 風景画), beautiful women (bijinga 美人画), and kabuki actors (yakusha-e 役者絵). Following the restriction of ukiyo-e’s subject material during the Tenpō Reforms (Tenpō no kaikaku 天保の改革; 1841–1843), print publishers were urged by the Tokugawa shogunate to produce designs on loyalty and filial piety, as well as to educate women and children. Due to their widespread popularity and regular reissuing, the influence of these didactic texts, grounded in Neo-Confucianism, extended far into the Meiji period (1868–1912). Meiji-period artists like Utagawa Hiroshige III (三代歌川広重; 1842–1894) designed various print series serving

1 Basil Hall Chamberlain, Things Japanese: Being Notes on Various Subjects Connected with Japan for the Use of Travellers and Others, Second edition revised and enlarged (London: London, K. Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., Ltd., 1891), 454.

A ‘Good’ Wife Versus a ‘Bad’ Wife as models for contemporary women’s behaviour. 2 An example is An Investigation of Women’s Morals (Onna teikin ana sagashi 女庭訓穴さがし; Appendix A), issued in April 1874 by Kobayashi Tetsujirō (小林鉄次郎; trade name Maruya Tetsujirō 丸屋鉄次郎; c.1849–1897). In total, Hiroshige III designed ten prints, alternating five designs of a loving wife, dedicated to serving her husband and in-laws, with five designs of an uncommitted wife. In this way, Hiroshige III’s prints differ from the familiar definition of ‘love’ that centres on feelings of deep affection or fondness for someone. Nevertheless, by focusing on her given role rather than such feelings, the wife could actually end up receiving these affections from her husband and in-laws. Ultimately, these prints, alongside the instructional texts they were based on, offered young girls a fixed formula for receiving love within a rigid society, one that valued gender hierarchy. But what kind of love formula was Hiroshige III selling? What prompted the publication of these prints and how do they fit into the vast array of moral treatises such as Onna daigaku? It is precisely these questions that this article seeks to answer.

2 For an introduction to Hiroshige III, see Freya Terryn, ‘What’s in a Name? Utagawa Hiroshige III and the Art of Reinventing Oneself,’ Wasshoi 3 ( January 24, 2022): 28–41.

An Investigation of Women’s Morals was published at a time when Hiroshige III was a celebrated landscape artist. Around 1874 he was introduced, alongside other popular figures in the art and entertainment world, in a set of four single sheet prints designed by Toyohara Kunichika (豊原国周; 1835–1900). Listed as Ryūsai Hiroshige 立斎広重 and being honoured for ‘landscapes’ (keshiki 景色), Hiroshige III’s specialisation was inscribed as follows: ‘as expected he only does designs of (famous) places’ (Fig. 2). One could speculate that this public accolade might have prompted Hiroshige III to venture outside of his specialisation with the series An Investigation of Women’s Morals. In terms of his oeuvre, this was his first series not dedicated to depictions of famous places in Japan or of the capital (meisho-e 名所絵).

Fig. 2 Toyohara Kunichika (豊原国周; 1835–1900). Unrivalled Worthies of Tokyo (Tōkei busō taichō soroi 東京無双當以長揃; c.1874-1877). Published by Gusokuya Kahei 具足屋嘉兵. Ōban nishiki-e. Hiroshige III can be found on the second row, second from the left.

In order to instruct women on how to receive the love and affection of their husbands and in-laws, Hiroshige III adopted two strategies. To begin with, he exploited the prints’ format to juxtapose a ‘good’ wife with a ‘bad’ wife: the ten designs were printed in pairs on five single sheets. 3 By doing so, he thus created a stark contrast between the two opposing concepts. Furthermore, Hiroshige III employed the device of ‘good spirits’ (zendama 善玉) and ‘evil spirits’ (akudama 悪玉). This device originated in the illustrated book Great Sales Guaranteed: Quick-Dye Mind Study (Daikokujō uke aiuri: Shingaku hayasomegusa 大極上請合売心学早染草; 1790), which incorporated the misguided belief known as ‘Learning of the Heart-Mind’ (Shingaku 心学). 4 In this book, ‘good and evil spir-

its’ were granted material form – loincloth-clad and marked with the Chinese character for good (zen 善) or evil/bad (aku 悪) written on their bubble-shaped heads – to act as independent forces with the power to control the actions of humans. 5 Hiroshige III, however, did not depict the wife being pulled from side to side by good and evil spirits like the 1790 illustrated book did, but instead clearly separated them: one scene depicts the wife under the influence of good spirits whereas in the other scene the wife is swayed by evil spirits (Figs. 3 & 4). Not only are the good and evil spirits present in their respective scenes, but they are also, while fully dressed, clinging to the title box and the black-lined frame of the prints.

Notes 3 Hiroshige III’s prints are in fact

living. See Julie Nelson Davis, Partners

chūban-sized engravings printed in

in Print: Artistic Collaboration and the

pairs on five ōban-sized single sheets.

Ukiyo-e Market (Honolulu: University of

Both are standard formats for Japa-

Hawaiʻi Press, 2015), 150, 176; Shirane

nese woodblock prints, with chūban

Haruo, ed., Early Modern Japanese Liter-

中判 being half the size of ōban 大判

ature: An Anthology, 1600-1900, Trans-

and an ōban print measuring approxi-

lations from the Asian Classics (New

mately 39 by 26.5 centimetres.

York: Columbia University Press, 2002),

4 This book was a collaboration between the author Santō Kyōden

711. 5 Julie Nelson Davis, Partners in

(山東京伝; 1761–1816) and illustrator

Print: Artistic Collaboration and the

Kitao Masayoshi (北尾政美; 1764–1824).

Ukiyo-e Market (Honolulu: University

It criticised the belief of ‘Learning of

of Hawaiʻi Press, 2015), 157.

the Heart-Mind’ that an individual was originally good and only went astray due to ethical underdevelopment or the conditions under which they were

Fig. 3 Utagawa Hiroshige III (三代歌川広重; 1842–1894). Good (above): A Wife Showing Devotion to her Mother-in-Law (Zen: Shūtome kōkō suru nyōbō 善: 主の立腹をなだむる女房) & Evil (below): A Wife Being Cruel to the Child of the Former Wife (Aku: Sensai no ko o jaken suru nyōbō 悪: 悋気ぶかひ女房) from the series An Investigation of Women’s Morals (Onna teikin ana sagashi 女庭訓穴さがし; April 1874). Published by Maruya Tetsujirō 丸屋鉄次郎. Chūban nishiki-e.

Fig. 4 Utagawa Hiroshige III (三代歌川広重; 1842–1894). Good (above): A Wife Soothing the Anger of her Husband (Zen: Omo no rippuku o nadamuru nyōbō 善: 主の立腹をなだむる女房) & Evil (below): A Wife Full of Jealousy (Aku: Rinki fukai nyōbō 悪: 悋気ぶかひ女房) from the series An Investigation of Women’s Morals (Onna teikin ana sagashi 女庭訓穴さがし; April 1874). Published by Maruya Tetsujirō 丸屋鉄次郎. Chūban nishiki-e.

Hiroshige III’s Love Formula

Through the above-mentioned strategies, Hiroshige III and his publisher Kobayashi were selling an ‘old’ love formula: the formula that had been successfully promoted by Onna daigaku and its numerous reissues. A comparative analysis of the definition of a ‘good’ and ‘bad’ wife in Hiroshige III’s prints and in Onna daigaku reveals that the 1874 prints relied heavily on the filial actions of exemplary women, as described in the 1716 moral treatise (Table 1). Definition of a ‘good wife’ based on the prints’ title

Overlap with Onna daigaku

A wife soothing the anger

Should her husband be roused at any time to anger, she must obey

of her husband

him with fear and trembling, and not set herself up against him in anger and frowardness (sic). […] Should her husband act ill and unreasonably, she must compose her countenance and soften her voice to remonstrate with him; and if he be angry and listen not to the remonstrance, she must wait over a season, and then expostulate with him again when his heart is softened. Never set thyself up against thy husband with harsh features and a boisterous voice!

A wife showing devotion to

A woman shall be divorced for disobedience to her father-in-law or

her mother-in-law

mother-in-law. […] After marriage, her chief duty is to honor her father-in-law and mother-in-law – to honor them beyond her own father and mother – to love and reverence them with all ardor, and to lend them with every practice of filial piety. […] As a woman rears up posterity, not to her own parents, but to her father-in-law and mother-inlaw, she must value the latter even more than the former, and tend to them with all filial piety.

A wife who properly offers

In her dealings with her husband, both the expression of her counte-

her opinions

nance and the style of her address should be courteous, humble, and conciliatory, never peevish and intractable, never rude and arrogant; – that should be a woman’s first and chiefest care.

A good wife who loves all

In her capacity of wife, she must keep her husband’s household in

of things

proper order.

A wife who is kind to her

As brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law are the brothers and sisters of a

sister-in-law

woman’s husband, they deserve all her reverence.

Definition of a ‘bad wife’ based on the prints’ title A wife full of jealousy

Overlap with Onna daigaku

Jealousy is a reason for divorce. […] Let her never even dream of jealousy. If her husband be dissolute, she must expostulate with him, but never either nurse or vent her anger.

A wife being cruel to the

Ever attentive to the requirement of her husband, she must […] rear

child of the former wife

his children.

A wife who carries on with

Lewdness is a reason for divorce. […] strictly adhere to the rule of sep-

other men

aration between the sexes; and on no account whatever should she enter into correspondence with a young man.

A wife who boasts about

A woman shall be divorced, who, by talking overmuch and prattling

the money she holds

disrespectfully, disturbs the harmony of kinsmen and brings trouble on her household. […] In everything she must avoid extravagance, and both with regard to food and raiment must act according to her station in life, and never give way to luxury and pride.

A wife who does not sur-

A woman has no particular lord. She must look to her husband as her

render to the head of the

lord, and must serve him with all worship and reverence, not despis-

household

ing or thinking lightly of him. The great life-long duty of a woman is obedience. […] When the husband issues his instructions, the wife must never disobey them. […] A woman should look on her husband as if he were Heaven itself, and never weary of thinking how she may yield to her husband, and thus escape celestial castigation.

Table 1 Comparison between Hiroshige III’s prints and Onna daigaku. The excerpts from Onna daigaku derive from the translation provided in Basil Hall Chamberlain, Things Japanese: Being Notes on Various Subjects Connected with Japan for the Use of Travellers and Others, Second edition revised and enlarged (London: London, K. Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., Ltd., 1891), 456-60.

Although more than 150 years had passed since the publication of Onna daigaku, Hiroshige III and Kobayashi were still endorsing its general sentiment that the only qualities befitting a ‘good’ wife were gentle obedience, chastity, mercy, and quietness. Consequently, four of the professed Seven Reasons that allowed a man to divorce his wife were depicted: if she disobeyed her parents-in-law; if she was lewd; if she was jealous; and if she was prattling on and speaking disrespectfully. Although this was never explicitly stated, readers familiar with the 1716 moral treatise could grasp the underlying meaning behind these illustrations. Alongside Onna daigaku, the prints’ moralistic voice reminds us of the 1692 encyclopedic text Great Treasure for Women (Onna chōhōki 女重宝記; Fig. 5), as both warned women against being unfilial to their mothers-inlaw, despising their stepchildren, being lustful, being jealous, talking too much, and showing off. In these didactic texts, and in the 1874 print series, considerable importance was attached to the young wife maintaining good relations with her parents-in-law. Not only was this crucial for a wife to keep her place within the family, but any form of disobedience allowed her husband to divorce her. Hence, caring for the elderly was an important aspect of the definition of a ‘good’ wife (Fig. 3: top part). If the wife showed devotion to her parents-inlaw, for example, by giving her motherin-law a ‘neck-and-shoulder-rub’ (katamomi 肩もみ), she would receive praise from her father-in-law: ‘Grandmother, we are so blessed because our daughter-inlaw is truly sweet.’ In this illustration, the wife is surrounded solely by ‘good’ spirits

who are applauding her loving actions with words such as ‘Good job!’ and ‘Well done!’ The illustration that corresponds to and contrasts the ‘good’ wife caring for her parents-in-law is a ‘bad’ wife who despises her stepchild (Fig. 3: lower part). Here, we see a wife about to hit her stepson with a smoking pipe (kiseru 煙管) while her husband attempts to stop her. This is in vain, however, as the wife is aided by two ‘evil’ spirits: one halts the husband from interfering and the other is ready to hit the child with a stick while shouting, ‘Hit him! Hit him! What an insufferable brat!’ Although the wife is surrounded by ‘evil’ spirits, ‘good’ spirits are coming to the rescue of the child as one holds his hand and says, ‘Come on, now! Let’s quickly run away!’ This stark contrast between the ‘bad’ wife and the ‘good’ stepson, respectively aided by ‘bad’ and ‘good’ spirits, accentuates that here the wife alone is at fault and thus becomes the epitome of a ‘bad’ wife. A similar representation of a ‘bad’ wife returns in Hiroshige III’s illustration of jealousy (Fig. 4: lower part). Here as well, the wife, identified as Okami, is surrounded by ‘evil’ spirits who shout, ‘Okami, you cannot lose! Pull yourself together!’ With these encouraging words, she turns to her husband: ‘So, where did you sleep last night? Let me hear your answer! Ah, I’m so pissed and frustrated!’ Despite her agitation, Onna daigaku warned its readers that even if the husband was lacking restraint, a wife was never allowed to vent her anger towards him. Thus, because Okami vented her anger, she was to be labelled

Fig. 5 Inside front cover of the 1692 edition of Great Treasure for Women (Onna chōhōki 女重宝記).

as a ‘bad’ wife. Still, some compassion for her jealousy is detectable in the words of the female attendant on the far left: ‘They’ve started again. What a nuisance! However, I’m more disgusted by what the husband is saying.’ The husband, however, never cared to explain his absence as he was only concerned about his wife letting go of her hold on his kimono while failing to calm her down with the words ‘I am so sorrowful that I cannot speak.’ Although the husband did not exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, his heart’s spirit is sitting to his left, with the Chinese character for heart (kokoro 心) written on its bub-

ble-shaped head. It is here that the husband’s true emotions are to be found as the lines read: ‘I screwed up again. How vexing!’ Onna daigaku did alert women not to vocalise their jealousy or to unleash their anger, as this would alienate their husbands from them. This is what was happening to Okami: because she was venting her anger, her husband’s true emotions were estranged from her, and were only present in spirit.

Why Were These Prints Published?

Hiroshige III’s prints were thus built on moral treatises like Onna daigaku that described and illustrated the actions of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ wives, with the hope of inspiring contemporary women to learn from these models. For this, the words accompanying every character – whether real or imaginary – were essential. The text allows us to grasp the essence of the prints’ narrative and to understand what love formula Hiroshige III and his publisher were selling: a formula that remained awfully close to Onna daigaku’s. Therefore, the target audience of the prints was similar to that of instructional texts: women of all ages, from young girls learning about wifely duties to women who were already married. These commercially produced prints and instructional texts were a means to both edify and amuse young girls, as they were chiefly written in the phonetic syllabary (hiragana 平仮名) to cater to low reading levels, whilst being heavily illustrated. Parents were also potential consumers, as were men, because, in the end, didactic texts and these prints in particular were created by men, for the benefit of men. Similar to Onna daigaku, the prints propagated that in order to receive love, a wife was solely responsible for preserving harmony in the family and that under no circumstances was she justified in disputing anything with her husband or parents-in-law. A small difference can be found in Hiroshige III’s approach, as his illustrations are more embellished than the instructional manuals that focused only on statements about how a ‘good’ wife should feel and behave. By visualising the juxtaposition of a ‘good’ wife with a ‘bad’ wife, Hiroshige III reinforced the ideal of a submissive, but loving, wife who needed to act in accordance with 46

her husband and in-law’s wishes. Despite this small difference, Hiroshige III’s prints are part of a body of work involving many revisions and reissues of Edo-period moral treatises, which remained extremely popular across the Edo-Meiji divide. In other words, as manuals for women were continuously published, the demand for more variation on moral instructions for women remained high even throughout the 1870s and 1880s. On occasion they even embraced changes in the expectations placed on women. In contrast to the representation of the ‘classic’ love formula in Hiroshige III’s prints, which centered on educating girls in submissiveness, the mid-1870s saw new importance being placed on virtues relating to motherhood. Only one year after the publication of Hiroshige III’s prints, Nakamura Masanao (中村正直; 1832–1891) pointed out in the Journal of the Meiji Six Society (Meiroku Zasshi 明六雑誌) the importance of ‘creating good mothers’ (zenryō naru haha o tsukuru 善良なる母を造る) to benefit the nation. Although this concept gained a stronger foothold from the 1890s onwards under the twin ideals of ‘good wife, wise mother’ (ryōsai kenbo 良妻賢母), it was only after one of the most famous male intellectuals of the Meiji period, Fukuzuwa Yukichi (福澤諭吉; 1835–1901), published On Japanese Women (Nihon fujinron 日本婦人論) in 1885 that general interest in women’s issues was piqued. 6 That being said, it is important to remember the disconnect between the ideals for a ‘good’ wife, as presented in Hiroshige III’s prints, and the actual lived experience in the 1870s.

In the end, Hiroshige III only suggested values to which wives were expected to conform and to which women may have compared their experiences. The love formula that Hiroshige III and Kobayashi were offering was in essence a set of practical and moral guidelines for personal and public life: a promise to receive love and, in a way, advice on how to utilise the few powers ‘good’ wives had.

6 For more about the discourse on women and the involvement of the state and non-state actors in the nineteenth century, see, for example, Hiroko Tomida and Gordon Daniels, eds., Japanese Women: Emerging from Subservience, 1868-1945 (Folkstone: Global Oriental, 2005); Shizuko Koyama, Ryōsai Kenbo: The Educational Ideal of ‘Good Wife, Wise Mother’ in Modern Japan (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2015); Marcia Yonemoto, The Problem of Women in Early Modern Japan (Oakland, California: University of California Press, 2016).

Appendix A

Detailed overview of the ten prints illustrating ‘how to be a good wife’ in the print series An Investigation of Women’s Morals (Onna teikin ana sagashi 女庭訓穴さがし; published in April 1874 by

Maruya Tetsujirō). The print series actually consists of twenty engravings. Next to the ten designs on ‘how to be a good wife’, another ten designs are dedicated to the good and bad relations between a wife and her landlord. For the purpose of this paper, only the ten designs detailing ‘how to be a good wife’ are listed below.

Number

Title

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Good: A Wife Soothing the Anger of her Husband (Onna teikin ana sagashi: Zen: Omo no rippuku o nadamuru nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：善：主の立腹をなだむる女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Evil: A Wife Full of Jealousy (Onna teikin ana sagashi: Aku:

Rinki bukai nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：悪：悋気ぶかひ女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Good: A Wife Showing Devotion to her Mother-in-Law (Onna

teikin ana sagashi: Zen: Shūtome kōkō suru nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：善：姑孝行する女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Evil: A Wife Being Cruel to the Child of the Former Wife

(Onna teikin ana sagashi: Zen: Sensai no ko o jaken suru nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：悪：先妻の子を邪

見にする女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: A Wife Who Properly Offers her Opinions (Onna teikin ana 3

sagashi: Zen: Misao tadashiku iken suru nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：善：貞操たゞしくいけんする女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Evil: A Wife Who Carries on with Other Men (Onna teikin ana sagashi: Aku: Maotoko o suru nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：悪：間男をする女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Good: A Good Wife Who Loves All of Things (Onna teikin 4

ana sagashi: Zen: Banji aisō no ii nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：善：万事あいそうのいゝ女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Evil: A Wife Who Boasts about the Money She Holds (Onna

teikin ana sagashi: Aku: Mochishūkin o hana ni kakeru nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：悪：持集金を鼻にか

ける女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Good: A Wife Who is Kind to her Sister-in-Law (Onna teikin 5

ana sagashi: Zen: Kojūto o itawaru nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：善：小姑をいたはる女房)

An Investigation of Women’s Morals: Evil: A Wife Who Does not Surrender to the Head of the

Household (Onna teikin ana sagashi: Aku: Teishu ni makenu nyōbō 女庭訓穴さがし：悪：亭主にま

けぬ女房)

Suggested Readings Chamberlain, Basil Hall. Things Japanese: Being Notes on Various Subjects Connected with Japan for the Use of Travellers and Others. Second edition revised and enlarged London: London, K. Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., Ltd., 1891 (especially pp. 456–60). Terryn, Freya. ‘What’s in a Name? Utagawa Hiroshige III and the Art of Reinventing Oneself.’ Wasshoi 3 ( January 24, 2022): 28–41. Yabuta, Yutaka. ‘The Greater Learning for Women and Women’s Moral Education in Tokugawa Japan.’ In The Tokugawa World, edited by Gary P. Leupp and De-Min Tao, 965–82. London; New York: Routledge, 2021. Yonemoto, Marcia. The Problem of Women in Early Modern Japan. Oakland, California: University of California Press, 2016 (particularly chapter 2). 49

FILM

REVIEW

THE STORMY FAMILY (TAIFŪ KAZOKU 大風家族) Clément Veuillot in collaboration with Nippon Connection

It all starts with a bank robbery. The clerk nervously hands over stacks of money on a small platter to a man with a paper bag over his head, who is threatening a woman with a kitchen knife. The robber runs to his getaway car, a hearse, in which his wife is sitting. As the couple drive off, we hear over the radio that the man has stolen 20 million yen and has been identified as the 74-year-old Suzuki Ittetsu. Fast forward ten years, to their grown-up children reuniting for their parents’ ‘funeral’ ceremony; no one knows what happened to the parents on that day, but enough time has passed for both of them to be declared legally dead. It quickly becomes apparent that the siblings have grown apart and view the ceremony as a mere formality, to be dealt with as soon as possible. Things turn sour when they sit down to split the inheritance money and the eldest son Kotetsu claims the lion’s share. A funeral is hardly an original premise for a family drama – the latter in itself being a common narrative theme in Japanese cinema; consider Koreeda Hirokazu’s Our Little Sister or Itami Jūzō’s The Funeral, to name but a few. In addition to this, inheritance disputes are a tried-and-tested way of revealing grievances between family members. 1 However, the most prevalent underlying theme of The Stormy Family is not greed, but miscommunication. Although inheritance initially seems to be the primary motivation behind the gathering, the narrative turns out to be more about 50

Written and Directed by Ichii Masahide Duration 108 minutes Starring Kusanagi Tsuyoshi, Ono Machiko, Coda Mahiru, Megumi, Arai Hirofumi, Fuji Tatsuya and Sakibara Rumi Genre Comedy Released date September 6, 2019

1 An example of this in American cinema is the 2019 film Knives Out.

< Fig. 1 Movie poster

Fig. 2 Kusanagi Tsuyoshi as Suzuki Kotetsu (center), greedy tyrant or wounded child?

the family overcoming their traumas, and discovering the truth of what happened to their parents. The first scene establishes the overall tone of the movie. The robbery is serious business; the kitchen knife on the hostage’s throat is no toy, and the stolen loot is no meagre sum. And yet, there is something amusing about a man using a paper bag with two holes as a mask, and speeding off in a hearse as a getaway car. The scene works precisely because of this contrast. Occasional bursts of impromptu and absurd comedy in otherwise tense circumstances – such as a family tearing itself apart – are similarly effective. For instance, after an emotional scene towards the end of the movie, the slow-motion sequence of the family exiting the house one by one to the sound of rock music, acting tough and cool, only to realise that they cannot all fit in the same car, comes completely out of nowhere. And yet somehow, it works.

Unfortunately, this kind of juxtaposition is not quite as effective in other parts of the film. Depending on how they are utilised, comedy and tragedy can meld nicely and complement each other, but The Stormy Family reminds us that this blend can at times result in something clumsy that does not really hold together. Ichii’s movie sometimes tries too hard to be funny and dramatic at the same time, wavering awkwardly between wacky and tear-jerking. This lack of tonal commitment also impacts the overall coherence of the storyline. The sequence of silly and melodramatic situations sometimes makes for a confusing chain of events that do not seem to belong to the same story. By the end of the film, the family does manage to find some sort of closure, but what we are supposed to make of it is unclear.

Fig. 3 Detail from the movie poster

Several situations and plot points remain unresolved, and there is not a great deal of character growth to be seen. It is as if Ichii could not quite make up his mind as to what kind of movie he wanted to make. Still, in addition to the well-executed bits of dark humour mentioned earlier, the film is saved by a few heartfelt moments, such as the flashbacks showing the parents’ side of story, Kotetsu’s restrained anguish as he expresses feelings of estrangement from his authoritarian father, or his wife telling their daughter that her father does indeed love her, despite his inability to show it. Strengthened largely by some of the cast performances, these moments ultimately highlight the crux of the drama: how a lack of communication can sever family bonds. Fuji Tatsuya is especially touching as the taciturn, elderly father, initially depicted as a greedy, insensitive man, who turns out to be caring in his own way. Overall, The Stormy Family is rather entertaining, but could leave some audience members wanting more. The viewer’s appreciation of the film might ultimately depend on what they expect out of it. If you are looking for a realistic family drama similar to Koreeda’s brand of storytelling, this film will probably not be your cup of tea. If, however, you can overlook the somewhat jarring shifts in tone, then this film has enough good qualities to make for an enjoyable viewing experience. 52

HISTORY

LOVELESS MARRIAGE

The Case of 20 th Century ‘Picture Brides’ (Shashin Hanayome 写真花嫁) Immigration Patterns from Japan to North America Marty Borsotti

The important cultural and societal transformations that characterised the Japanese Meiji (1868–1912) and Taishō (1912–1926) periods are a recurrent topic in the world of Japanese Studies. The ‘forced’ opening of Japanese ports by Commodore Perry in 1853 is considered common knowledge, and many Japanologists have certainly heard of the likes of Fukuzawa Yukichi, who reformed the country by adopting western concepts and social structures. These times of change have been the subject of numerous studies, yet an important development related to Japan’s new global perspective is often overlooked: its emigration. Some might be familiar with the Japanese Brazilian

communities, founded by Japanese migrants reaching South America in the wake of the ‘Gentlemen's Agreement’ signed in 1907, which forbade their entry into the United States of America. However, few have investigated the Japanese migratory routes to North America, especially after the 1907 entry ban. If one were to look at these same routes through a woman’s perspective, they would discover the stories of more than 33,000 newly wedded Japanese women that migrated to the United States and Canada between 1909 and 1923. This was made possible through a juridical loophole left in the Gentlemen's Agreement, which allowed migrant families to unite on American soil.

These women, already called ‘Picture Brides’ (shashin hanayome 写真花嫁) in both Japanese and American contemporary sources, were defined as such due to the peculiar pattern of their emigration, based on a marriage by proxy contracted in Japan. Virtually all ‘Picture Brides’ were married to men they had never met, and with whom had they exchanged a brief correspondence and some photos prior to engagement. The photos were essential for the men to recognise their new wives upon arrival at American ports. Pictures were used by these same men to deceive their future wives, portraying themselves as young, rich, and successful by sending outdated prints, often taken in front of properties they did not own. Deception was the overwhelming experience of ‘Picture Brides’ upon arriving in the States, and for many this disappointment characterised their American years, stuck in ‘loveless marriages’, as they might be described today. It must be noted here that our modern concept of love, influenced by western biases, may be difficult to apply to a time and culture so distant from our own. Nonetheless, in the accounts of ‘Picture Brides’, we can observe that domestic affection was not the defining sentiment of these relationships – at least initially. Some women refused their marriages or ran away from their consorts shortly after arriving in the States, but many chose to stoically accept their situation and lived with their partners. Their initial period in America is often described as one that they survived through, in spite 1 Second and third generations of Japanese born on American soil and recognised as American citizens.

of exploitation and domestic turmoil. It is arguably only in bearing children that they themselves were restored to life, and through their offspring were able to experience a loving connection once more – a parental one this time. The memories of ‘Picture Brides’ seriously risked disappearing from collective memory were it not for the intervention of a few anthropologists and historians, who were able to gather the records of some of the surviving first generation (issei 一世) of migrants, complemented by accounts of their offspring born on American soil (nisei 二世, sansei 三世). 1 These stories are rich in nuance and variety, so much so that we are unable to exhaustively elaborate upon them in such a limited space. Nonetheless, we would like to offer you an introduction to the early years of those women who left their country chasing a dream, only to be met with deception and ostracisation in a foreign country they were yet to understand.

The ‘Picture Brides’ Immigration Pattern in a Nutshell The ‘Picture Brides’ immigration pattern was based on the practice of marriage by proxy (omiai kekkon お見合い結婚), already in vogue in Japan at the time, through which Japanese migrants were able to seek a spouse from their country of birth, as they were forbidden by American law to marry U.S. nationals. The cost of travel and a compulsory conscription often deterred Japanese migrants from returning to their country for marriage purposes, relying on their families or even professional matchmakers to arrange their weddings. The omiai kekkon was therefore the ideal solution adopted by these men, who would often send pictures of themselves, along with short descriptions of their conditions, to appeal to their potential partner and her family. Now, it should be mentioned that the use of photographs in arranging matches was not a phenomenon confined to international marriages but was, on the contrary, quite a popular practice in early 20 th century Japan, prompted by the popularisation of photography. This new cultural and technological phenomenon grew along with a revolution in marriage practices, most likely in response to the westernisation sought after by the elite. Such wedding arrangements, the use of photography, and epistolary exchanges were becoming the new norm for nuptials in a society reaping the benefits of its industrial revolution In the case of international arrangements, once the commissioned matchmaker had found a potential bride, negotiations between families could begin. While practical aspects were being settled, the chosen bride would often send a portrait of herself to her future husband and the two would begin

a brief correspondence to get to know each other. This was a relatively important step in the process, as the woman’s family needed all the information possible to judge the man’s reliability. If both parties reached an agreement then the marriage could take place, with the peculiarity that the groom was, more often than not, absent during the wedding. The ceremony was a succinct one: the bride would present herself to her husband’s household, where a member of his family would assume the role of the absent groom while the wedding was officialised by inscribing the bride’s name on the groom’s family register (koseki 戸籍). The groom’s absence did not affect the legal or social validity of the marriage, which once formalised would permit the bride to apply for a spousal visa, and so unite with her husband. Such applications would often take about six months to process, and it was common practice for the husband to send enough money to cover the travel expenses of his wife. Once the bureaucratic step was cleared, the ‘Picture Bride’ would embark on a commercial ship headed towards her husband’s residence. Many of these young girls would leave wearing their most precious clothes, full of hope for the future. They were finally going to meet their young husbands: successful entrepreneurs who had made it in countries where modern and wealthy lifestyles were common practice, or so they were led to believe.

Fig. 3-4 Arrival case file of Japanese Picture Bride migrant at Angel Island Immigration Station (California). The following is a transcript of the interview conducted by American authorities to establish the validity of a marriage by proxy between two Japanese nationals. Such procedure was necessary in order to allow the migrant spouse to live in the United States (1913)

Women Defined by their Migratory Route ‘Picture Brides’ was used as a collective term for what was actually a socially diverse group of individuals. A significant proportion of them came from lower rural classes, usually daughters of farmers and fishermen who could not afford proper marriages. However, an equally significant percentage of them belonged to the rural and urban middle classes, while some could even be defined as coming from upper social classes. 2 Their backgrounds were as diverse as could be, with the common denominator of having completed the compulsory eight-year primary education course. It is thus not an overstatement to portray the ‘Picture Brides’ as well-educated young women, some of them having continued their education up to secondary school level and specialised in jobs such as nurses and teachers.

2 Yuji Ichioka, ‘Amerika Nadeshiko: Japanese Immigrant Women in the United States, 1900-1924,’ Pacific Historical Review 49, no. 2 (1980): 339-357. 3 Kei Tanaka, ‘Japanese Picture Marriage and the Image of Immigrant Women in Early Twentieth-Century California,’ The Japanese Journal of American Studies, no. 15 (2004): 123.

These women shared the rational of other contemporary Japanese migrants, which could be summarised as the hope to improve their living conditions in parts of the world they admired: i.e. the West. Similarly, a pull factor closely associated with the ‘Picture Brides’ phenomenon was the yearning for an ‘over-idealized and romanticized life in a modern, western country’. 3 In their idealised conceptions, the economic and socials problems they observed in Japan did not exist in the rich and progressive land across the Pacific. A certain desire for adventure, the quest for economic success and, in some cases, the urge to escape those Japanese traditions perceived as backward, were common motivations for many ‘Picture Brides’.

Fig. 5 Photograph of Immigrants Arriving at the Immigration Station on Angel Island.

If we were to simplify our analysis of the ‘Picture Brides’ migration pattern, we could observe a societal and geographical division in what motivated these women to seek fortunes in the West. Different trends emerge depending on whether we observe urban or rural settings; likewise, the reasons that motivated proletarian and upper-middle class migrants differ as well. Family environment seems a push factor that affected many of them in their decision to leave the country, which has been seen more consistently in cases of women from the lower-middle classes. It was not uncommon for young girls to choose – or be forced into – migration in order to economically support their families. Stories of ‘Picture Brides’ who migrated for the sake of their younger brothers’ education fees are a frequent occurrence. Nonetheless, despite these compelling dynamics, it seems that the vast majority of ‘Picture Brides’ played an active role in their decision to leave Japan. Escaping poverty seems the driving factor motivating women belonging to disadvantaged backgrounds. Similarly, women from middle-classes were motivated by economic factors, but this was specifically the promise of greater

fortune, rather than being compelled by dire living conditions. A desire to escape social constructs already defines itself in accounts from women belonging to these classes, with such paroxysms often observed in tales from ‘Pictures Brides’ belonging to aristocracy and the upper echelons of society. For them, social and cultural reasons were at the core of their migration: chasing after the dream of becoming truly modern women, by marrying wealthy Japanese men who had succeeded in the West. All in all, many early 20 th century Japanese women left their country to escape a lifestyle that did not suit them, be it for economic reasons, cultural curiosity, or a combination of both.

Fig. 6 ‘Picture Bride’ by Kayo Hatta, 1994.

Marrying Without a Spouse ̶ the Outcome of Weddings Arranged Overseas Brides and their families often accepted marriage offers from men who claimed to be small-scale farmers or successful merchants. Following this practice, young women married men they had never met and left for ‘Amerika’ with hopes for a better future, believing they would encounter young entrepreneurs. More often than not, ‘Picture Brides’ were deceived: upon their arrival at the port, they were greeted by visibly older men, less handsome than they had appeared in the portraits they had sent; once their marriage had been officialised at the immigration bureau, many of these women discovered the true living conditions of their husbands, who purposefully lied or, in the best cases, embellished reality. Their supposed farms and stores were actually tiny pockets of land or dilapidated buildings, where these men worked as employees. It was common for Japanese men, shackled to celibacy by bans on interracial marriage, to send grandiose

descriptions of their living conditions, accompanied by carefully crafted pictures, in order to maximise their chances of getting married. These men often had photos taken in borrowed clothing, posing in front of places they did not own and, in some cases, asked more handsome men to be photographed in their stead. According to testimonies of ‘Picture Brides’, a common occurrence in their experiences was receiving outdated photos, portraying their future husbands in their best years. One can imagine their shock and trauma upon hearing their name shouted by a man significantly older than expected, only moments after setting foot in a country where they could not even speak the language. The reality of the new situation hit them so hard that there was even one case of a would-be bride who refused to get down off the ship she was disembarking after seeing her husband, and promptly returned to Japan. Usually, the age difference in the couple averaged ten years or more. Fig. 7 Arrival case file of Japanese Picture Bride migrant at Angel Island Immigration Station (California). Photographs proving the identity of both spouses (1913).

Despite some rare cases, the vast majority of ‘Picture Brides’ decided to deal with the cards life had dealt them and bravely endured the hard times that were to come. Testimonies of their lives are heart-breaking, especially in the descriptions of their early years as migrants, married to older men they did not love and forced into a kind of a poverty they would have never imagined experiencing in their hometowns. Once their marriage was officially recognised by American authorities, ‘Picture Brides’ were allowed to stay in the United States and were promptly forced to work with their husbands. Japanese women were cast as the foundation of their families and of the migrants’ community life. Due to the establishment of this social construct, their strenuous workdays of ten hours or more did not end when they left the fields with their husbands, as it was their duty to attend all domestic chores not only related to their own home but also to their employers’. On top of that, Japanese migrants tended to gather in communities relying on a system of mutual aid, which of course involved duties that mainly fell upon women. For example, they were responsible for washing their own household’s clothes, but also took those of local single men, as well as those of other households at times when their woman was otherwise engaged in communitarian tasks, such as preparing collective meals. Being overworked, however, was just one of their worries, as many testimonies reveal marital life to have been the most dreaded aspect of their new lives. ‘Picture Brides’ were now stuck with significantly older husbands, em-

bittered by years of poverty, mistreatment, and institutionalised segregation, which the women themselves were starting to experience as well. These men sought comfort in familiar circumstances, mainly in practical aspects such as having meals prepared, their houses well-maintained and, sadly, sexual relations (along with the expectation of offspring) granted willingly or otherwise. Many men became regular alcohol consumers by the time they married, and domestic abuse, in its many forms, was not uncommon. A small fraction of ‘Picture Brides’ escaped their conditions by obtaining a divorce, however the vast majority stoically accepted their fate, fully embracing a Japanese saying, ‘sho ga nai’, which could be conveyed as a mix of ‘it cannot be helped’ and ‘carry on’. Confronted with such harsh conditions, many women rapidly gave up on their dreams and focused on surviving in a country that did not accept them; Anti-Japanese movements were growing, stirred up by demagogues who depicted Asian migrants as the root of all possible economic problems in the States.

Loving Mothers, Loveless Destinies The early years in America for ‘Picture Brides’ have been described as a dark period through which they lived, settling in a country whose culture they did not understand, and whose language they did not speak. Many of them distracted themselves from their pain by focusing on their challenging daily routines, emptied of any future aspirations other than to survive the everyday. Some ‘Picture Brides’ tales begin to brighten with childbirth, as if this gave meaning to their endeavours and a reason to keep striving. In many accounts it is clear how having families returned to these hardened women the will to carry on, to create the best conditions for their children to succeed in this new country they were calling home. In being allowed to entertain their dreams, these same children grew further apart from their Japanese roots. Many ‘Picture Brides’ expressed a certain sadness in watching their children forget their language, yet could not help but support them in their choices. With time their living conditions improved, and with that their conjugal relations, as they slowly grew accustomed to their husbands. Thus, the deceived ‘Picture

Fig. 8 The day book. [volume], April 15, 1913.

Brides’ often became caring mothers who focused their efforts on making a living in America and properly raising their children. History may have told us the success stories of such migrants, had it not been for the fateful events of 7th December 1941. The surprise attack on the U.S. naval base of Pearl Harbour by Japanese forces instantly turned the hardworking Japanese migrants back into the enemy: deceptive and dangerous to American eyes. Under the pretext of combating potential spies, the Japanese were stripped of their possessions and forcibly relocated to concentration camps, where they would be isolated from the rest of the world for the duration of the war. Years of hard work were erased in an instant as migrants were thrown back again into poverty, whilst still depicted as a threat to the United States.

Fig. 9 The Seattle star. [volume], July 30, 1919.

We would have loved to conclude this article on a positive note, yet we cannot help but consider the tragic fortunes of the ‘Picture Brides’. The women who left Japan with dreams of success and modernity were met with deception, trapped in marriages with men they did not love, and forced to live in conditions often significantly worse than those they had left in their home country. As they became mothers, they were able to feel a hint of love once again, at least until their children began to attend school and slowly embrace American culture – their culture – distancing themselves from that of

their parents. ‘Picture Brides’ were barely able to enjoy the faintest taste of success before being ostracised by their host country once again. Insult was added to injury, as not only were they were stripped of their possessions and sent to concentration camps, but they were continually compelled to manifest their love and fidelity for the United States, rejecting every possible connection with Japan. Thus, the relationships with their families overseas were severed, and even this love slowly became a distant memory.

Suggested Readings Fagler, Jemma. The ‘Picture Bride Problem’: Experiences of and Attitudes Toward Japanese Picture Brides in California, 1908-1920 . Honors Thesis, Georgetown University, 2018. Ichioka, Yuji. The Issei: The World of the First-Generation Japanese Immigrants, 18851924. New York: Free Press, 1988. Kachi, Teruko. The Treaty of 1911 and the Immigration and Alien Land Law Issue between the United States and Japan, 1911-1913. New York: Arno Press, 1978. Nakamura, Kelly. ‘Picture Brides’, Densho encyclopedia, 2014. Otsuka, Julie. The Buddha in the Attic. New York: Anchor Books, 2012. 67

LITERATURE

BEWILDERING LOVE IN DAZAI OSAMU’S THE SETTING SUN Amelia Lipko and Luigi Zeni

Despite being over half a century old, Dazai Osamu’s (太宰治; 1909–1948) novels and short stories are still widely beloved by the Japanese public, and are steadily gaining international attention. Readers might initially be drawn to the tumultuous plots, sometimes inspired by the author’s own experiences, but what really immerses them in Dazai’s world is his depiction of the human psyche – usually its darker, more melancholic side. We might not often fully understand why his characters feel or act in a certain way, but we do sense the depth of their emotions, which are in no way limited by time, age, or geographical location. Love is considered to be universal, but its manifold and

conflicting depictions show us that it is not easy to discern its true nature, or how it ought to be. In this article we will try to analyse and understand the depiction of love in one of Dazai’s most popular novels, Shayō 斜陽 (The Setting Sun; 1947), which tells the story of a girl from an impoverished aristocratic family during a period of major socio-political change. Through this novel, we can perhaps learn something about the struggles of the Japanese people in the mid-20 th century, or about the author’s worldview, or simply the nature of the human experience. At the very least, we can accompany the main character, Kazuko, through the emotional trials of her own little revolution.

What really immerses the reader in Dazai’s world is his depiction of the human psyche – usually its darker, more melancholic side.

Fig. 1 Shigeru Tamura (1909–1987), Osamu Dazai, 1948.

BIOGRAPHY

Who Was Dazai Osamu? Dazai Osamu, whose real name was Tsushima Shūji 津島修治, was born to a wealthy family in the north of Japan. Since his mother was often sick, he was brought up by his aunt and servants. Literature caught his interest at a young age, and he went on to study at the French Literature Department in Tokyo, eventually becoming highly educated and well-read in both Japanese classics and Western literature (the influence of which is evident throughout his work). However, Dazai was not the most diligent student – he preferred to fill his time with women, alcohol, substance abuse. For a short time, he engaged in politics as a leftist activist, but did not feel quite welcome there due to his family background. He married twice and, while he seems to have enjoyed occasional periods of contentment, was generally known for his restless lifestyle. Dazai had already made several suicide attempts before his death in 1948, eventually drowning himself with his lover.

The novels and many short stories Dazai wrote are filled with events resembling his experiences and with characters that seem to share his personal traits. He is, in fact, considered one of the pioneers of the watakushishōsetsu 私小説 genre, the so called ‘novel about yourself ’, which was formed and popularised in Japan at the beginning of the 20 th century. Japanese writers of the time wanted to engage their readers by showing the psyche of the characters in more detail; they tended to base their writings on their own lives and emotions, as they believed it made their texts more authentic. However, though Dazai’s writing might seem like a record of his own personal conflicts, we need to remain cautious in our assumptions. He touches upon certain themes repeatedly across numerous texts, but not always in the same way, prescribing different emotional approaches to the various characters and narrators. So, while we might be tempted to seek the truth about Dazai’s own beliefs through his books – which may indeed provide us with some insight – they are certainly not a comprehensive source.

Fig. 2 Osamu Dazai in 1946.

The Setting Sun’s Plot Shayō, The Setting Sun, as translated by Donald Keene, was written in 1947, and based heavily on a diary of one of Dazai’s lovers. A first-person narrative, it tells the story of Kazuko, an almost 30-year-old woman from a former aristocratic family. Her privileges have lately been taken away due to reforms introduced after the Second World War, whereby the nobility would no longer receive money from the government. She leaves her husband and goes back to live with her mother in a small house in the countryside, where she later miscarries her child. We join Kazuko moments before her brother, Naoji, who was thought to have died in the war, unexpectedly returns home. Naoji, an aspiring writer, is addicted to drugs and alcohol, which makes the family’s already poor financial condition even worse. With Kazuko’s beloved mother’s health in decline, they

find themselves woefully unprepared for a commoner’s life. This is on top of the national sense of dejection following Japan’s defeat. The only thing that lifts her spirit is the thought of Uehara, a married writer she met long ago, for whom she has had feelings all this time. After many years, she decides to get in touch with him again. The novel also deals with the topic of family love, but here we will focus on the romantic male-female love, as shown through the relationship between Kazuko and Uehara. They are not the only couple in the text, but definitely the one depicted in most detail. We follow the whole course of their acquaintance, also discovering Kazuko’s personal thoughts and feelings thanks to the first-person narration. At one point she claims: ‘man was born for love and revolution’. But what is love for Kazuko?

Fig. 3 Osamu Dazai, Shayō (Tokyo, Kadokawa: 2012).

The Development of Kazuko and Uehara’s Relationship Kazuko learns about Uehara from her brother Naoji, who treats the writer as his mentor. Despite having a bad reputation, Uehara is praised as a skilled novelist and he awakens her interest, so she decides to initiate their first meeting. While still married, Kazuko regularly lent her brother money by sending it to Uehara through a servant, and at one point decided to go there personally and meet the famous writer.

Her first impression of him does not seem positive – she compares him to a beast, and when he laughs, a cold shiver goes through her. He takes her to a bar and they drink together, not conversing much, but after exiting the lounge, he unexpectedly kisses her. Kazuko does not welcome it with enthusiasm:

‘We climbed up the dark stairs from the basement. Mr. Uehara, who was one step ahead of me, turned around suddenly and gave me a quick kiss. I took his kiss with my lips tightly shut. I felt no special attraction for him, but all the same, from that moment on my “secret” came into being.’ 1 Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 65.

Later on, however, she speaks of her feelings toward him with great passion. She reads Uehara’s novels, likes them, and talks about him a lot with Naoji. She cultivates her love one-sidedly for six years, not meeting or interacting with him in any way. A modern reader is likely to doubt whether Kazuko’s feelings were ‘real’ – it seems that she is daydreaming about love rather than engaging in an actual relationship, perhaps holding on to the only glimmer of affection she could find in hopeless times. Interestingly, Kazuko herself claims that if they lived in the times of Genji Monogatari 2 or Manyōshū 3 , such

an affair would be very normal. In the Heian period (794–1185), romance often did not involve meeting in person, but was based on an exchange of letters, and love was considered a fleeting connection between two people, a moment of understanding each other’s misery, which did not have to ‘last forever’ or ‘conquer all’. 4 When Kazuko decides to take action, she writes three letters to Uehara, asking to meet him, in which she expresses herself quite openly and directly. While referring to Uehara with the initials M.C., she says that she wishes to become his mistress:

1 Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun,

4 See the section titled ‘Liebe in der

translated by Donald Keene (Cam-

mittelalterlichen Literatur’ in the key-

bridge: New Directions Publishing,

note article ‘Liebe in Japan – eine liter-

1981), 65.

arische Analyse’ by Paulus Kaufmann

2 A classic Japanese literary work narrating courtly life and love affairs. It was written during the early 11

for more insights on Heian romance. 5 See the section titled ‘I Love You Like a Child’ in the article ‘Refresh

century, in the Heian period (794–

our Ears: Unusual Kinds of Love in

1185).

Japanese Retro-Pop Songs’ by Anita

3 One of the oldest poetry anthol-

Drexler for more insights on Japanese

ogies, compiled in the 8 century.

vocabulary pertaining to the concept

Among others, the theme of love is

of love, such as koi, ai, and amae.

very present. Notes

'I want now to make an open declaration to my mother and to Naoji. I want to state with absolute clarity that I have been in love 5 for some time with a certain man, and that I intend in the future to live as his mistress. I am quite sure you know who it is. His initials are M.C. Whenever anything painful comes up, I am seized with the desire to rush to his house and die of love with him.'

Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 69.

Then, she remembers the beginnings of their relationship, the kiss and her reaction. She reminisces about their first meeting as one that left her with ‘no feeling at all’, but at present she is clearly drawn to him. She reaches an emotional climax when confessing that she wants to bear his child.

‘It is already six years since we met. […] We drank sake together from glasses, and you were a little bold. That didn't bother me. It only gave me the most curious sensation of buoyancy. I didn't like or dislike you — I had no feeling at all. Later, in order to please my brother, I borrowed some of your novels from him and read them. Sometimes I found them interesting, sometimes not. I confess I was not a very passionate reader. But during the past six years, from just when I can't say, the remembrance of you has soaked into me like some all-pervasive fog, and what we did that night on the stairs from the basement has returned to me with absolute vividness. I feel somehow as if that moment was vital enough to decide my fate. I miss you. Perhaps, I think, it may be love, and at this possibility I have felt so utterly forlorn that I have sometimes yielded to uncontrolled weeping. […] I want a child from you.’ Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 74–75.

Fig. 4 Osamu Dazai, Xié Yáng, transl. Liúzi Qiàn (Taipei, Book Republic 大牌出版讀書共和國網路書店: 2019).

As mentioned previously, she addresses Uehara with the initials M.C., but changes her mind as to what they mean, first calling him ‘My Chekhov’, but then altering it to ‘My Child’. The reader is left with the impression that Kazuko’s main goal is to have a child: not spend time with Uehara, take care of him, or enjoy a physical reunion – she wants to reproduce. It seems to be crucial to her, though, that the child is Uehara’s. She later admits: ‘I don’t want to bear anyone else’s child, no matter what happens.’ 6

Eventually, despite writing three long letters, Kazuko does not receive a reply from Uehara. She goes to see him in Tokyo, but at his house finds only his wife and daughter. Their conversation is brief, but Kazuko immediately becomes aware of the poor conditions in which Uehara’s family live. Nonetheless, she quickly heads out to find the object of her affection, her emotions intensifying the closer she gets to Uehara:

‘“I'm most grateful to you,” I said and, making a preposterously polite bow, fled outside. The wind lacerated me. Outbreak of hostilities. I love him, I long for him. I really love him, yes, I really want him. I love him so much I can't help it. I want him so much I can't help it. Yes. I am quite aware that his wife is an unusually sweet person and his little girl is lovely, but I have been stood on God's platform of judgment, and I haven't a trace of guilty conscience. Man was born for love and revolution. There is no reason for God to punish me.’ Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 107.

Throughout the novel, Kazuko references the Bible and the Christian notions of love and sin, so she is familiar with Christianity – as Dazai was – and the idea that being the lover of a married man is something forbidden. However, she interprets the Christian creed in her own way and, as seen in the previous quotation, frees herself from a guilty conscience. She believes that her love can withstand even God’s judgement. 6 Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 76.

After a short walk through the city, Kazuko meets Uehara in a bar and is struck by a shocking revelation:

‘I stepped inside, cast a glance around the room, and saw him. I felt as if I were dreaming. He was different. Six years. He had become an entirely different person. Was he my rainbow, M.C., my reason for living? Six years. His hair was as unkempt as before, but it had now become sadly lusterless and thin. His face was bloated and sallow, and the rims of his eyes, a harsh red. Some of his front teeth were missing, and his mouth was continually mumbling. He gave me the feeling of an old monkey squatting with its back hunched over in the corner of a room.’ Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 108.

Fig. 5 Osamu Dazai, The Setting Sun, transl. Donald Keene (Cambridge, New York Directions Publishing: 1981).

Despite having noticed Kazuko, for a long time Uehara ignores her and continues drinking with his friends, in general not behaving very agreeably. After a while he finally addresses her with an indifferent question:

‘“I don't suppose you have anywhere to spend the night, have you?” Mr. Uehara asked half under his breath. “I?” I was conscious of the snake with its head lifted against itself. Hostility. It was an emotion close to hatred which stiffened my body. Mr. Uehara, paying no attention to my obvious anger, mumbled on, “Can you sleep in the same room with all the rest of us? It's cold!” “That's not possible,” interpolated the madam. “Have a heart.” Mr. Uehara clicked his tongue against his teeth. “In that case she oughtn't to have come here in the first place.” I remained silent. I could tell at once from something in his tone that he had read my letters and in that instant I knew that he loved me more than anyone else.’ Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 113.

Fig. 6 Osamu Dazai, Zmierzch, transl. Mikołaj Melanowicz (Warsaw, Tajfuny: 2019).

While we might have wished a happy ending for Kazuko, the reunion with her lover is full of strong, contradictory emotions. Kazuko feels a clear surge of negative feelings, and can see that Uehara’s behaviour towards her is far from welcoming, but for some reason still convinces herself of his overwhelming love for her. Shortly after, the two go out together and Kazuko lets him put his arm around her. When Uehara enquires whether she has feelings for him, Kazuko remains silent:

‘“Do you still love me?” His voice was rough. “Do you want a child from me?” I did not answer. His face approached mine with the force of a landslide, and I was furiously kissed. The kisses reeked of desire. I wept as I accepted them. My tears were bitter, like tears of shame over a humiliation. The tears poured from my eyes. As we walked again, side by side, he spoke. “I've made a mess of it – I've fallen for you.” He laughed. I was incapable of laughter. I contracted my brows and pursed my lips. If I were to have expressed my feelings in words, it would have been something like “It can't be helped.” I realized that I was dragging my feet in a desolate walk.’ Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 116.

The characters’ actions and Kazuko’s emotions in this scene might not seem quite like conventional displays of love, with Kazuko appearing humiliated by Uehara’s forceful advances. Yet she persists with her sentimental adventure, even though he laughs at her. Later on, they arrive at Uehara’s atelier and he attempts to initiate sexual intercourse with Kazuko. She opposes at first, but after a while she ‘feels sorry for him and yields'. This prompts Kazuko’s feelings to rapidly change once again:

‘My love was extinguished. When the room became faintly light, I stared at the face of the man sleeping beside me. It was the face of a man soon to die. It was an exhausted face. The face of a victim. A precious victim. My man. My rainbow. My Child. Hateful man. Unprincipled man. It seemed to me then a face of a beauty unmatched in the whole world. My breast throbbed with the sensation of resuscitated love. I kissed him as I stroked his hair. The sad, sad accomplishment of love.’ Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 118.

Fig. 7 Osamu Dazai, Il sole si spegne, transl. Luciano Biancardi (Milan, Feltrinelli: 1959).

This is the last moment the two see each other. Kazuko goes back to her house and even though Uehara abandons her, she is happy, as she has become pregnant. When she talks about the whole ordeal once again at the end of the novel, her love towards Uehara does not seem to have much to do with him, the person he was, or what they experienced together – only the baby.

‘I cannot possibly think of it in terms of a “hideous mistake” or anything of the sort. Recently I have come to understand why such things as war, peace, unions, trade, politics exist in the world. I don't suppose you know. That's why you will always be unhappy. I'll tell you why – it is so that women will give birth to healthy babies. From the first I never set much stock by your character or your sense of responsibility. The only thing in my mind was to succeed in the adventure of my wholehearted love. Now that my desire has been fulfilled, there is in my heart the stillness of a marsh in a forest.’ Dazai Osamu, The Setting Sun, 132.

Fig. 8 Osamu Dazai, Sayang, transl. Yu Suk Ja (Houston, Tsai Fong Books: 2018).

Kazuko’s Idea of Love Kazuko’s affair does not seem to comply with standard Western conceptions of love, the kinds seen in popular movies, propagated by Christianity, or explained by modern psychology. There might, however, be some reason for this. On the one hand, Kazuko wants to be a revolutionary, and, being an aristocrat in post-war Japan, she does make decisions that go against convention. She preferred to be a mistress of Uehara rather than a wife of someone she did not love. She chose to be a single mother, as long as her child was conceived with someone she cared for. On the other hand, she seems to be heavily influenced by what was considered appropriate for a woman at the time: it was a period when motherhood was heavily glorified in Japan; when women were supposed to be ‘pure’, and having sexual intercourse only served them to conceive children. Kazuko’s personal trauma of miscarriage might have additionally contributed to her focus on having a baby. As for Uehara, Kazuko romanticises him for years after only one meeting, but a reunion disappoints her greatly and she is repulsed. Despite this, they sleep together, and she once again feels love for him, but a love that is bittersweet, and what some might call realistic. However, after getting pregnant, she does not need his physical nor intellectual presence anymore – in the last letter she interprets the ‘M.C.’ initials as ‘My Comedian’, which shows that she no longer reveres him. She remembers him more like a funny and clumsy figure belonging to her past.

As fickle as Kazuko may seem, it is worth remembering that she did not have an easy life with her family’s financial situation and health problems. Amidst Japan’s post-war struggles, she had virtually no support from anyone. Perhaps this is why she was desperately searching for any semblance of human connection – first, holding on to the thought of Uehara, then, the child. Some might say her love was only the longing of a desperate, lonely woman. But then she spoke and thought about it with such conviction, and her feelings were undoubtedly powerful. Her affair did not conform to a contemporary Western understanding of love, but it did certainly bear tangible resemblance to the Heian period romance. After all, who is to say what ‘real love’ is? Is it not enough that the person themselves decides ‘this is it’? Such questions inevitably remain unanswered, but it is without a doubt that The Setting Sun is a profoundly emotional, immersive novel, one which leaves an impression long after the final page has been turned.

Fig. 1 Tunnel of Love, 2019.

LITERATURE

POPULAR CULTURE / BILINGUAL

IL CONSUMISMO AFFETTIVO NELLA POESIA DI TAWARA MACHI

EMOTIONAL CONSUMPTION IN TAWARA MACHI’S POETRY

Damiana De Gennaro

(Transl. Amelia Lipko)

in collaboration with Kotodama

Che forma assume l’amore nel Giappone post-moderno e capitalista, prossimo allo scoppio della bolla speculativa? Nel 1987, all’età di ventisei anni, Tawara Machi pubblicò per la prima volta Sarada kinenbi, la raccolta di poesie divenuta simbolo del romanticismo degli ultimi anni del periodo Showa. Il successo commerciale dell’opera testimonia come la giovane scrittrice abbia saputo essere la voce del sentire di una generazione.

What form does love assume in postmodern and capitalist Japan, after the burst of the economic bubble? In 1987, at the age of 26, Tawara Machi published for the first time Sarada kinenbi, an anthology of poetry that became a symbol of romanticism in the last years of the Shо̄ wa period. The commercial success of the work proves that the young writer was able to become the emotional voice of a generation.

La poesia per cui Tawara Machi viene ricordata, alla quale il suo nome si accompagna come una sorta di slogan, sembra ispirarsi a una spontanea, luminosa estasi domestica:

The poetry for which Tawara Machi is renown, which her name accompanies like some sort of a slogan, seems to be inspired by spontaneous, radiant domestic extasy:

「この味がいいね」と君が言ったから七月六日はサラダ記念日

da quando hai detto è deliziosa – il sei di luglio è l’anniversario dell’insalata

'This tastes great,' you said and so the sixth of July— our salad anniversary 1

1 Translation from: Tawara Machi, Salad Anniversary, translation by Juliet Winters Carpenter (London: Pushkin Press, 2014), 96.

Si tratta, tuttavia, di un bluff. Nell’ambito del Festival Internazionale Poetry Place, Tawara Machi ha rivelato come le circostanze di composizione della poesia non siano esattamente quelle che il lettore sarebbe portato a immaginare. Non c’era nessuna insalata, e non era nemmeno il sei di luglio, racconta l’autrice. Avevo preparato karaage – delle ali di pollo fritto leggermente infarinate – in modo un po’ diverso dal solito. Avevo aggiunto curry in polvere, e la persona per cui avevo cucinato all’improvviso aveva esclamato è delizioso! Le ali di pollo, però, non erano l’ingrediente che Tawara Machi avrebbe scelto per una poesia. È così che il karaage è diventato insalata. Ho scelto la parola sarada per via dell’assonanza a shichigatsu (il mese di luglio), spiega l’autrice, e anche perché la freschezza dell’insalata si colloca nell’immaginario dell’estate. Il sei di luglio, poi, è il giorno prima del festival del Tanabata, che in Giappone ha per gli innamorati un significato speciale.

She is, however, bluffing. During the international festival Poetry Place, Tawara Machi revealed that the circumstances in which she composed the poetry were not exactly as the readers might have imagined. ‘There was no salad and it wasn’t even the sixth of July,’ says the author. ‘I have prepared karaage (fried chicken wings coated in flour) in a little bit different way than usual. I added curry powder, and the person for whom I improvised this dish exclaimed “this tastes great!”' Nonetheless, Tawara Machi did not choose the chicken wings as an ingredient for her poetry. Karaage became a salad, instead. ‘I chose the word sarada because of its assonance with shichigatsu ( July),’ explains the author, ‘and because the freshness of a salad harmonises with the imagery of summer.’ Then, the sixth of July is the first day of the Tanabata festivities, which hold a special meaning for lovers in Japan.

砂浜のランチついに手つかず卵サンドが気になっている

pranzo sulla spiaggia – penso ai sandwich alle uova rimasti intoccati

Beach picnic for two— thinking of egg sandwiches never even touched 2

2 Translation from: Tawara Machi, Salad Anniversary, translation by Juliet Winters Carpenter (London: Pushkin Press, 2014), 9.

Più che una semplice presenza, il cibo è, nella poesia di Tawara Machi, una costante fonte di preoccupazione. La scrittrice sembra individuare in esso, nella sua conservazione come nella degradazione, nella sua natura industriale o preparata a mano, un indice diretto della salute di un rapporto amoroso. Il consumismo che caratterizzò la Tokyo precedente allo scoppio della bolla speculativa (1991) sembra possedere le poesie di Tawara Machi come una sorta di spettro pervasivo e assillante. L’impossibilità degli individui di nutrire relazioni senza una data di scadenza, come Tawara Machi suggerisce in una sua poesia, porta i segni di un destino tanto economico quanto sentimentale.

Food in Tawara Machi’s poetry is not simply there, but it constantly serves as the point of concern. The writer seems to identify herself with it, whether it is conserved or decaying, industrial or hand-made, food being a direct index of health of a love relationship. The high consumption that characterised Tokyo before the burst of the economic bubble (1991) seems to haunt Tawara Machi’s poetry like an insistent, bothersome ghost. The impossibility of the individuals to nurture relations without an expiry date, as Tawara Machi suggests in her poem, signals a destiny both economic and sentimental.

ハンバーガーショップの席を立ち上がるように男を捨ててしまおう

lascerò quell’uomo come uscendo da una catena di fast-food

Like getting up to leave a hamburger place— that’s how I’ll leave that man 3

3 Translation from: Tawara Machi, Salad Anniversary, translation by Juliet Winters Carpenter (London: Pushkin Press, 2014), 20.

Il fatto che un contenuto così tragicamente attuale sia espresso attraverso una forma metrica tradizionale come il tanka – in giapponese “poesia breve”, un genere di poesia che prevede l’alternanza metrica di versi in 5-7-5 sillabe nella strofa superiore e 7-7 sillabe in quella inferiore inoltre – ci aiuta a capire la portata del significato culturale della poesia di Tawara Machi. Come già l’inizio del Novecento letterario giapponese fu segnato dalle innovazioni dei tanka di Yosano Akiko, la scelta di tale forma metrica fa dialogare Sarada kinenbi con l’eredità della poesia classica. Così, mescolando efficacemente tradizione e modernità, Tawara Machi ci consegna il volto autentico dell’amore in Giappone subito prima dello scoppio della bolla speculativa, dei desideri.

The fact that such tragically actual content was expressed in the traditional form such as tanka – in Japanese ‘short poetry’, a genre of poetry that involves metrically alternating lines of 5-75 syllables in the upper stanza and 7-7 syllables in the lower stanza – helps to understand how culturally significant Tawara Machi’s poetry is. As already the beginning of the Japanese 20th century was marked by Yosano Akiko’s innovations into tanka, the choice of this metric form puts Sarada kinenbi in dialogue with the classic poetry heritage. Thus, efficiently mixing tradition and modernity, Tawara Machi gives us an authentic look at love in Japan just before the burst of the economic bubble, and the bubble of desires.

BIOGRAPHY

Tawara Machi 俵万智 nasce a Osaka il 31 dicembre del 1962. Si iscrive alla facoltà di lettere presso l’Università Waseda, dove incontra il suo mentore Sasaki Yakitsuna. Nel 1986 le 50 poesie raccolte sotto il titolo di Mattina d’agosto si classificano al primo posto della trentaduesima edizione del prestigioso Premio Kadokawa. L’anno successivo viene pubblicato il suo primo libro, Sarada kinenbi, che diviene presto un fenomeno letterario. Tra le sue altre opere, ricordiamo Kaze no te no hira, Chokorēto kakumei, Pū-san no hana, Ore ga Mario.

Tawara Machi 俵万智 was born in Osaka on the 31st of December 1962. She enrols in the Faculty of Letters of the Waseda University, where she meets her mentor Sasaki Yakitsuna. In 1986 her 50 poems gathered under the title August Morning win the 32nd edition of the prestigious Kadokawa Tanka Prize. The next year her first book, The Salad Anniversary, is published and becomes a literary phenomenon. Among her other works are Kaze no te no hira, Chokorēto kakumei, Pū-san no hana, Ore ga Mario.

Fig. 2 Happy Birthday to You, acrylic on found photograph, 2020, 10.16 x 15.24 cm.

For a complete translation in English of Tawara Machi's poems we suggest the book: Tawara Machi, Salad Anniversary, translation by Juliet Winters Carpenter, London: Pushkin Press, 2014.

Traduzione completa di Damiana De Gennaro delle 50 poesie di Tawara Machi della prima sezione del canzoniere – Mattina d’agosto – in italiano.

１・この曲と決めて海岸沿いの道とばす君なり「ホテルカリフォルニア」２・空の青海のあおさのその間サーフボードの君を見つめる tu sei questo brano che scorre con il lungomare – Hotel California

ti guardo fare surf in equilibrio tra l’azzurro del cielo e del mare

３・砂浜のランチついに手つかず卵サンドが気になっている４・陽の当たる壁にもたれて座りおり平行線の吾と君の足 pranzo sulla spiaggia – penso ai sandwich alle uova rimasti intoccati

i raggi colpiscono la parete a cui siamo poggiati – le nostre gambe, linee parallele

５・捨てるかもしれぬ写真を何枚も真面目に撮っている九十九里６・まだあるか信じたいもの欲しいもの砂地に並んで寝そべっている forse andranno buttate – le foto scattate con tanta cura sulla spiaggia di Kujūkuri

siamo stesi sulla sabbia – mi chiedo se ci sia qualcos’altro a cui credere, da desiderare

７・ぼってりとだ円の太陽自らの重みに耐えぬように落ちゆく８・オレンジの空の真下の九十九里モノクロームの君に寄り添う come se non sopportasse il suo stesso peso, il sole, ovale, sta cadendo

arancione, il cielo sulla spiaggia di Kujūkuri – mi avvicino a te, monocromo

９・寄せ返す波のしぐさの優しさにいつ言われてもいいさよなら１０・向きあいて無言の我ら砂浜にせんこう花火ぽとりと落らぬ gentile, l’onda torna a infrangersi – puoi lasciarmi anche così

in silenzio, faccia a faccia – dolcemente cadono sull’acqua fuochi d’artificio

１１・沈黙ののちの言葉を選びおる君のためらいを楽しんでおり１２・左手で吾の指ひとつひとつずつさぐる仕草は愛かもしれず mi diverte la tua esitazione mentre cerchi le parole per rompere il silenzio

con la mano sinistra esplori, una ad una, le mie dita – questo sarà amore?

１３・思い出の一つのようでそのままにしておく麦わら帽子のへこみ１４・また電話しろよと言って受話器置く君に今すぐ電話をしたい lasciala così – come un ricordo, l’ammaccatura del cappello di paglia

telefonami ancora, dici, e attacchi la cornetta – vorrei chiamarti subito

１５・ごめんねと右に言うごと向きおればお湯のみの中を父は見ており１６・気がつけば君の好める花模様ばかり手にしている試着室 gli chiedo scusa come ad un amico: mio padre guarda nella tazza

nel camerino mi ritrovo con le mani piene di abiti a fiori: quelli che piacciono a te

１７・大きければいよいよ豊かなる気分東急ハンズの買物袋１８・午後四時に八百屋の前で献立を考えているような幸せ più sono grandi più mi rallegrano le buste del grande magazzino

gioia delle quattro di pomeriggio – pensare al menù di stasera davanti dall’ortofrutta

１９・あいみてののちの心の夕まぐれ君だけがいる風景である２０・君を待つ土曜日なりき待つという時間を食べて女は生きる fa sera nel mio cuore quando te ne vai – solo tu sei nel paesaggio

un altro sabato ad attenderti – le donne vivono mangiando il tempo dell’attesa

２１・球場に作り出される真昼間を近景として我ら華やぐ２２・我がカープのピンチも何か幸せな気分で見おり君にもたれて come la luce di mezzogiorno nel campo da baseball noi splendiamo

anche se la squadra per cui tifo è in difficoltà, sembro felice, poggiata alla tua spalla

２３・生ビール買い求めいる君の手をふと見るそしてつくづくと見る２４・一年は短いけれど一日は長いと思っている誕生日 un anno sembra breve, un giorno troppo lungo, al mio compleanno

il movimento della tua mano che chiede una birra alla spina mi assorbe

２５・四百円にて吾のものとなりたるを知らん顔して咲くバラの花２６・「また電話しろよ」「待ってろ」いつもいつも命令形で愛を言う君 le rose fioriscono fingendo di non sapere di essere mie per quattrocento yen

telefonami, poi; aspetta si coniuga la lingua del tuo amore sempre all’imperativo

２７・落ちてきた雨を見上げてそのままの形でふいに、唇が欲し２８・にわか雨を避けて屋台のコップ酒人生きていることの楽しさ guardo la pioggia cadere e improvvisamente voglio le tue labbra

sotto una pioggia improvvisa correre a bere sakè economico: è divertente essere vivi

２９・オクサンと吾を呼ぶ屋台のおばちゃんを前にしばらくオクサンとなる３０・おみせやさんごっこのような雑貨店にて購いし君の歯ブラシ la signora del locale si riferisce a me come tua moglie, così, per un attimo, ci sposa

in un negozietto simile a un giocattolaio ti compro il dentifricio

Fig. 3 Tony, acrylic on found photograph, 2021, 8.89 x 12.7 cm.

３１・「寒いね」と話しかければ「寒いね」と答える人のいるあたたかさ３２・一生かけて愛してみたき人といて虚実皮膜の論を寂しむ il calore di sapere che qualcuno quando dico fa freddo, eh? risponde fa davvero freddo

pensando al labile confine tra reale e irreale, il dolore di volerti amare per la vita

３３・通るたび「本日限り」のバーゲンをしている店の赤いブラウス３４・湯豆腐を好める君を思いつつ小さな土鍋購いており ogni volta che passo questa blusa rossa è l’offerta del giorno

pensando che ti piace il tofu bollito compro questa piccola padella

３６・真夜中に吾を思い出す人のあることの幸せ受話器をとりぬ３７・「じゃあな」という言葉いつもと変わらぬに何か違っている水曜日 sollevo la cornetta felice che qualcuno abbia pensato a me nel bel mezzo della notte

questo mercoledì c’era qualcosa di diverso nel tuo solito a più tardi

３５・人住まうことなき家の立ち並ぶ展示会場に揺れるコスモス３８・信じたいけれどと思う木曜日は軽薄色のTシャツを着る ondeggiano i cosmos davanti a modelli di case dove nessuno abiterà

volendo, lo stesso, aver fiducia indosso una t-shirt color pastello questo giovedì

３９・この時間君の不在を告げるベルどこで飲んでる誰と酔っている４０・今君も聞いておるらんTBSラジオ笑いの途中で切りぬ gli squilli del telefono mi dicono che sei ancora fuori – dove bevi, con chi ti ubriachi?

pensando che anche tu stai ascoltando lo stesso canale radio per metà ridendo, la spengo

４１・「俺は別にいいよ」って何がいいんだかわからないままうなずいている４２・わからないけれどたのしいならばいいともおもえないだあれあなたは dici – per me è okay – annuisco senza capire cosa è okay

anche se non sappiamo come andrà l’importante è divertirsi, dici – è come se non ti conoscessi

４３・同じもの見つめていしに吾と君の何かが終わってゆく昼下げる４４・それならば五年待とうと君ではない男に言わせている喫茶店 tardo pomeriggio – guardiamo nello stesso punto mentre qualcosa fra noi si spezza

sedendo in una caffetteria faccio dire a un uomo che non sei tu aspetterò cinque anni, allora

４５・いつか君が歌ったこんな夕暮れのハートブレイクホテルの灯り４６・吾をさらいエンジンかけた八月の朝をあなたはおぼえているか una volta, nella luce di un tramonto simile, cantavi Heartbreak Hotel

ricordi la mattina d’agosto in cui hai acceso il motore e mi hai portato via?

４７・ハンバーガーショップの席を立ち上がるように男を捨ててしまおう４８・男というボトルをキープすることの期限が切れて今日は快晴 lasciare un uomo – come uscendo da una catena di fast-food

sei come una bottiglia tenuta oltre la data di scadenza – il cielo, oggi, è sereno

４９・愛人でいいのとうたう歌手がいて言ってくれるじゃないのと思う５０・君を待つことなくなりて快晴の土曜も雨の火曜も同じ va bene anche solo essere amanti dice qualcuno in una canzone – ma ne avrebbe il coraggio?

Fig. 4 Drive, acrylic on found photograph, 2013, 20.32 x 25.4 cm.

adesso che non ti aspetto più i sabati di sole e i martedì di pioggia sono tutti identici

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MUSIC

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REFRESH OUR EARS

Unusual Kinds of Love in Japanese Retro-Pop Songs Anita Drexler

Love is Love is… Love? In the mid to late-2000s, Japan saw a wave of nostalgia in the world of cinema, television, and even literature, which was thanks - in no small part - to the success of film director Yamazaki Takashi’s Always trilogy. It was a nostalgia for the ‘good old days’ of the second half of the Shōwa era (1926–1989), which refers to the period between the 1950s and the 1980s. With narratives of hopefulness, economic growth and social cohesion, these stories offered comfort to an audience that had lacked such things in their recent lives. Less than a decade later, from the early to mid 2010s, popular music experienced a similar wave of retromania. Under the buzzword of City Pop, it were at first mainly non-Japanese platforms, such as Rolling Stone magazine, that enthusiastically embraced a specific, urban current within Japanese popu-

lar music of the 1970s and 1980s 1. This trend was discovered soon after by Japanese music journalists, furthering the hype 2. Since the late 2010s, the scope of this nostalgia has widened, expanding the timeframe of interest into the 1990s. The genres involved have also been diversified, now ranging from kayōkyoku and J-Pop to even enka 3. Within this field, we find a vast number of well-crafted popular songs, most of them telling us stories of love. What makes them so appealing is that many of them depict shades of love that have been underrepresented in mainstream ‘Western’ popular music, and thus deserve our scrutiny. This is why I would like to embark with you on a journey through the realm of Japanese retro music and discuss concepts of love in old-fashioned love songs.

3 Kayōkyoku is mostly used as an umbrella term for various kinds of light 1 Artists re-evaluated include the Yel-

popular music. J-pop originated in the

low Magic Orchestra, Takeuchi Mariya

late 1980s and was an attempt to reju-

and Yamashita Tatsurō.

venate and internationalise Japanese

2 It seems possible that the seed

pop music. Enka in its contemporary

for this development was planted by

form refers to a popular, sentimental

Japanese music publishers in the first

ballad that is often thought pre-

place, a point that deserves closer ex-

dominantly to cater to an older,

amination.

more rural audience.

Longing for You

When we think of love songs, there are two categories that commonly come to mind. Firstly, self-confident anthems that shout a fierce ‘I LOVE YOU’ out to the world. And secondly, tragic laments to loves lost or never found at all. However, while all these up-beat pop pieces celebrating life and love and happiness have their place, the true gems of Japan’s music industry are the sad ones. This applies even more when we dive into the world of older popular music, especially the world of enka. Love in enka is largely defined by sadness, by what is known as miren. Miren marks a sense of longing, of not-letting-go or, as the online dictionary kotobank describes: ‘something left in the heart’. It is a central concept in many sad love songs from Japan.

A very representative example of miren in enka can be found in Miyako Harumi’s From An Inn up North (Kita no yado kara) (1975). In this piece, a lonely woman who lives in northern Japan knits a sweater for her beloved one, fully aware that he will never wear it. Yet the protagonist, possibly the mistress of a traveling salaryman, is by no means oblivious; she knows that her situation is insecure and that they can have no real future together. Nevertheless, she invests an unreasonable amount of energy into her love and enjoys the feeling of pain that results from it. This complex emotion is beautifully conveyed in the following passage:

Are you well? It’s getting colder every day Withstanding the cold, I’m knitting you a sweater that you can’t wear anyway This must be the longing of a woman’s heart I’m missing you from this inn up in the North

100

What makes this classic miren song interesting is how this feeling is linked to being a woman. While listening, one can easily get the impression that to be discarded by a lover is part of a woman’s destiny, just as not wanting to move past such separation is in her nature. This might also be why the vast majority of miren songs are either sung by women or written from a woman’s point of view 4. Although the vast majority of these songs were written during the 1970s and 1980s, when the women’s liberation movement had already left an imprint on Japanese public discourse, we do not find a shred of feminist reflection in them. Instead, it sidesteps any such consideration, oftentimes by making it a conscious choice of the woman to wallow in her feelings of attachment.

However, this is not the only way miren is dealt with in Japanese popular music. Other break-up songs tie in with the enka tradition, but also reshape it and give it a twist. While they too deal with miren in the sense of ‘something that lingers in the heart’, here the protagonists make different choices. A great example of this is Nakamori Akina’s Shipwreck (Nanpasen),from 1987. In this piece, which was written by the feminist folk legend Katō Tokiko, it is not the protagonist who is thrown away, but rather she who initiates the separation herself. She does not express regret, yet is engulfed by the sadness of a broken heart, a feeling that washes over the audience as they listen to it.

4 Exceptions exist, for instance in the form of Kitajima Saburo’s A Man’s Attachment (Otoko no miren) from 1971.

101

Katō’s twist on the concept of miren foreshadowed further creative variations on this theme. We find one example of such an experiment in Longing Song (Miren songu 未練歌; 1999) by the singer-songwriter duo Yuzu. Around the height of their career, the two men dissected and re-assembled the term, not only by placing it prominently in a folk-pop song, but also by naming the song in English: Not as ‘miren-ka’ or ‘miren no uta‘, as a Japanese title may warrent, but as ‘miren song‘. In Yuzu’s piece, the protagonist is a man who apologises to his loved one for having an affair but still wants to give hope to their love. The lyrics are also quite explicit in parts, which does not fit the usual narrative for this type of song:

I trampled on the flowers at my feet What was I even looking for? Please point your fingers at me who now is without your support And laugh so much you hold your belly […] Please forgive this pitiful me I want you to look once again at me gently Tonight too, I will indulge myself in playing with myself all alone While remembering your warmth

Successful variations on a popular theme like this are what enriches the meaning of miren in popular music, at the same time making miren songs more accessible to male singers and protagonists 5.

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5 For instance, Ōkawa Eisaku’s It’s Longing! (Miren nan da ze) (2019)

Let's Grow Old Together

Another interesting aspect of Japanese love songs is how well the subject of ageing together and love in old age is treated. Again, enka proves itself to be a trailblazer for this style of love song. One such depiction of ageing together in popular music is found in Itsuki Hiroshi’s Looking for Bliss (Shiawase sagashite), released in 1980. Itsuki sings about the advantages of a love that has grown over the decades, expressing gratitude for having someone who supports him, cares about your health, and generally proves to be a good companion throughout life. This warm and

heartfelt song is a welcome counterpoint within a genre that tends to focus on the more dramatic aspects of love. The quiet happiness it radiates makes it a great choice for those of us who, even for a moment, want to to relish in sentimentality. A comparatively recent title revolving around ageing and love is Again in Love With You (Mata kimi ni koishiteru). This song exists in two versions, firstly in the original version by the folk duo Billy BanBan (2007) and secondly in the even more successful cover version by enka singer Sakamoto Fuyumi (2009).

The core of this wonderful piece is best conveyed through its refrain:

Again in love with you Deeper than before I’m still falling for you from the bottom of my heart

One of the charming aspects of this song is the room for interpretation afforded by the lyrics, so much so that one's reading of the story will change depending on the version you are listening to. For instance, when listening to Billy BanBan’s version – performed by male singers – the song seems to be about lovers from long ago falling in love again. In Sakamoto Fuyumi’s rendition, however, that same conversation seems to be between an elderly couple that have experienced a lot together, but whose flame still shines bright.

Despite the merits of the songs above, when looking for the ultimate nostalgic song about ageing and love, one other takes the crown. With 1992’s Even When I Become a Middle-aged Lady (Watashi ga obasan ni natte mo), Moritaka Chisato manages to create a masterpiece of popular music that has it all. Its bubbly early 1990s sound guaranteed a high position in the 1992 Oricon Singles Charts 7, and the lyrics were written by the singer herself. In Moritaka’s song, a young woman is enjoying her summer vacation with her lover.

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However, an insensitive remark by him sparks a wave of self-consciousness and a light-hearted discourse on love, growing old together and a woman’s worth:

Will you take me swimming, even when I become a middle-aged lady? Flashy swimsuits won’t do anymore, I will lose to the young kids Will really nothing change, even when I become a middle-aged lady? I’m very worried, because you like young kids […] Although you say such a conversation is stupid You were the one who said that women reach their prime at 19! Still you look at me like you didn’t do a thing And kissed me, saying that you were ‘just joking’

Moritaka wrote the lyrics in her early twenties as a reaction to an ageist remark by a member of her management. Critiques of one’s own staff could (and still can) put one’s career at stake in the Japanese music industry. For Moritaka, who was widely being marketed as an idol – a group within the entertainment industry that is probably the most ostracised for any kind of perceived ‘disobedience‘ – this was an even bolder move. It can be assumed that the success of the song, together with concealing her critique as a self-conscious feminist reflection (which sufficed without naming names), spared her further problems.

Apart from being a critique of society’s ageist attitudes against women as a whole, this piece also reflected the struggles of women in the workforce and their frustrations over its prevailing double-standards, which had only marginally been alleviated by the labour market reforms of the 1970s and 1980s. Therefore, while offering a fresh perspective on what ageing can mean for a romantic relationship, this song touches upon a deeper, social dimension, making it a great love song of its time.

6 Established in 1968, the Oricon Charts can be considered the most widely recognised Japanese music ranking.

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I Love You Like a Child

The last type of unusual love song I would like to introduce relies on the blurring between two distinct kinds of love. On the one side is koi, which mostly means physical love or lovers’ love. On the other side is ai, a much broader and in a way ‘purer’ term that may include God’s love or the familial love between parent and child.

The most famous example for a song of this kind is unquestionably Iwasaki Hiromi’s Lullaby of the Madonnas (Madonna-tachi no rarabai), which became a huge hit upon its release in 1982. In this ballad, the female protagonist offers solace to her exhausted partner:

Hush, sleep now. Entrust your tired body to me I will close your blue eyelids gently with my lips Ah, if it were possible I would be reborn as your mother I want to protect you So much I would hand over even my life for it

Obscuring the line between the affection of a lover and that of a mother towards her child allows for a broader, unconditional kind of love, more than either ai or koi alone could provide. Thus unfolds a healing dimension to love, fitting nicely with a narrative that was to become common in the film and literature of the 1980s and 1990s (iyashi-kei bungaku). Furthermore, the song offers an escapist fantasy for the tired salarymen of the day, which, at a time when salaryman culture was at its peak, certainly contributed to the song’s success. This is revealed by passages such as the following:

This town is a battlefield All men are soldiers carrying wounds of war Please wipe off the pain in your heart Return to the time when you were a small child And find solace on my hot chest

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The problematic nature of over-empathising the dichotomy between ‘female’ motherhood and ‘male’ corporate life should not be left unaddressed, especially as in the early 1980s the fight for more social equity between the sexes was a hot topic within Japan’s public discourse. However, despite favouring an uneven status-quo, with the man fighting in the outside world and the woman nourishing him from inside the home, the calm gentleness of the lyrics cannot be overlooked. Another buzzword of the time comes to mind when listening to a type of love song known as amae. Amae refers to a concept of inter-dependency between children and their authority figures, coined by psychoanalyst Doi Takeo in the early 1970s. In recent years this concept has become widely criticised

as a Nihonjin-ron 8 related theory, as it stresses the uniqueness of amae as a specifically Japanese social concept. However, given how widespread this concept was in the Japan of the late 20 th century, it is not surprising that it was picked up as a topic in popular music. One singer-songwriter who is known to frequently work elements of contemporary public discourse into her songs is Nakajima Miyuki. Nakajima’s own salaryman lullaby, Become My Child! (Watashi no kodomo ni narinasai; 1998), runs in that very same vein as Iwasaki’s far more famous classic. However, while her reiteration of the theme suffers from many of the same weaknesses, it provides us with a somewhat deeper insight into to what might make such a bond between people desirable. For instance, she sings:

For a man has more things to cry about than a woman I will look up to the sky whenever you cry

7 A genre of discourse popular in the late 20 th century that points to the uniqueness of Japan / Japanese culture.

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The lyrics demonstrate a depth of thought that words such as ‘soldier’ (senshi) and ‘battlefield’ (senjō) in Iwasaki's song do not convey. While one does not have to agree with Nakajima's depiction of society – the reality of social inequality and statistics on violence against women* being detrimental to her position in the song – it is still easy to share the underlying sentiment. What is especially helpful here is the agency the song grants to its protagonist, as in the following lines:

Because there are many things a man cannot tell a woman I will quietly hold you whenever you are exhausted When you are scared, I will hold you for as long as it takes

The woman who gives solace interacts with the recipient of that feeling; she assesses the situation, which grants her a strength that goes beyond pure passivity. Even when she continually repeats the lullaby-like refrain -

I can’t say if it’s koi or already ai Just become my child!

- it becomes clear that the amalgamation of koi and ai in Nakajima’s case goes beyond offering the greatest possible solace to her partner. Rather, it is the longing to be biologically of one flesh with the person one loves, which alludes to the wish for ultimate intimacy. Since nature does not offer that kind of prospect, the mother-child analogy is a crutch by which to express this sentiment, and need not be interpreted beyond that.

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All You Need is Love

In Japanese popular music we find many different approaches to the subject of ‘love’. While many of these songs fall under the conventional dichotomy of joy and sorrow, the interesting ones are those that stand out a little and may even make us uncomfortable at first. Songs about miren and amae, while being staples in Japanese popular music, will certainly be problematic for many of us with their implicit stance on gender relations. However, a critical analysis shows that even these tropes, which are often perceived as static, are in fact subject to change and creative experimentation.

Love songs are often ridiculed as being trite, cheesy, and shallow, but engaging with them through a Japanological lens may offer a new perspective, not only on the subject of ‘love in Japan’, but also on the nature of love itself. In this respect, I warmly entreat you: please let yourself go and immerse yourself in Japan’s colourful world of nostalgic popular music. It will refresh your mind!

Suggested Songs Billy BanBan ビリーバンバン, ‘Mata kimi ni koishiteru’ また君に恋してる (Again In Love With You), track 1 on 'Mata kimi ni koishiteru’ また君に恋してる (Again In Love With You), Universal Records UICZ-5035, 2007, compact disc. Moritaka Chisato 森高千里, ‘Watashi ga obasan ni natte mo’ 私がオバさんになっても (Even When I Become a Middle-aged Lady), track 1 on Watashi ga obasan ni natte mo 私がオバさんになっても (Even When I Become a Middle-aged Lady), Warner Bros. Records WPDL-4301, 1992, compact disc. Nakajima Miyuki中島みゆき, ‘Watashi no kodomo ni narinasai’ わたしの子供になりなさい (Become My Child!), track 1 on Watashi no kodomo ni narinasaiわたしの子供になりなさい (Become my Child!), Aard-Vark PCCA-01191, 1998, compact disc. Nakamori Akina 中森明菜, ‘Nanpasen’ 難破船 (Shipwreck), track 1 on Nanpasen (Shipwreck) 難破船, Reprise Records 10SL-149, 1988, compact disc. Yuzu ゆず, ‘Miren songu’ 未練歌 (Longing Song), track 12 on Yuzu-en ゆずえん (Yuzu Garden), Senha & Co. SNCC-88977, 1999, compact disc.

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Suggested Readings On Shōwa nostalgia: Hidaka, Katsuyuki. Japanese Media at the Beginning of the 21 st Century. New York: Routledge, 2017.

On popular music, especially enka: Wajima, Yūsuke. Creating Enka, The "Soul of Japan" in the Postwar Era. Nara, Japan: Public Bath Press, 2018.

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POPULAR CULTURE

LITERATURE / SOCIOLOGY

DREAMING BIG

Boys Love and Its Way into the World Kimberly Schlegel and Paola Citterio

The genre ‘Boys Love’, or BL, refers to romantic narratives between men. Since its inception in the 1970s the genre has spawned a great variety of media: comics, magazines, novels, drama series, and much more. For decades, male homosexual storylines have fascinated Japanese readers, to the point where they are now considered mainstream and are being exported to foreign markets. Depending on the context and the content of a story, different labels are used for these narratives. The term

shōnen-ai 少年愛 (少年: boy, 愛: love) describes romantic male homosexual relationships, while yaoi (やおい) involves more explicit content. Yaoi developed in the non-commercial Japanese fan fiction scene during the 1980s, while BL officially emerged from Japanese publishers in the 1990s and now acts as an umbrella term for all male homosexual narratives. This article explores the evolution of BL, its journey from Japan into the world, as well as the controversies and possibilities within this genre.

The Roots of BL The roots of BL can be traced back to the genre of shōjo (少女: girl) manga, commonly defined as comics made for a female readership. While the target audience of shōjo manga used to be young girls, the 1970s witnessed a maturation of the genre in terms of storylines and themes. A group of female manga artists – later known as the ‘Year 24 Group’, because most members were born in

Showa 24 (1949) – was very influential. Their work developed the genre by including more of the inner lives of characters and dealing with complex issues such as sexual abuse. The openness of these artists regarding gender and sexuality paved the way for the creation of the shōnen-ai genre.

Fig. 1 The Heart of Thomas, Hagio Moto.

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One of the earliest works thought to contain shōnen-ai elements was drawn by Hagio Moto (萩尾望都; 1949), namely The Heart of Thomas (Tōma no shinzō トーマの心臓; Fig. 1) published in 1974. However, the first commercially successful shōnen-ai, The Poem of Wind and Trees (Kaze to ki no uta 風と木の詩; Fig. 2), was drawn by Takemiya Keiko ( 竹宮惠子; 1950). It was published in sev-

enteen volumes from 1976 until 1981. Both stories contained explicit narratives of rape and paedophilia, supported by suggestive imagery. Despite, or maybe because of, the dominance of these dark themes, the love between the main characters is depicted as ‘the purest thing in the story’. 1

1 Tuuli Bollmann, ‘He-Romance for Her – Yaoi, BL and Shounen-ai,’ in Imaginary Japan: Japanese Fantasy in Contemporary Popular Culture, ed. Eija Niskanen (Turku: International Institute for Popular Culture, 2010), 43–45.

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Fig. 2 The Poem of Wind and Trees, Takemiya Keiko.

The Rise of BL The 1980s saw two important developments regarding the BL genre. One development was that a certain level of realism was introduced: for example, depicting prejudice against homosexuals or the societal pressure of having to be in a conventional heterosexual marriage. 2 The other development was the rise of the yaoi genre. Yaoi is an acronym for yama nashi, ochi nashi, imi nashi (‘no climax, no plot, no meaning’), because of its supposed lack of plot and explicit focus on sexual content. 2 The genre emerged from fan-made stories, in which male characters from popular anime were paired together, romantically and often sexually. 3 While not all fan fiction focused on male homosexual relationships, it was a prevalent motif in the fan scene and thus played a huge role in the spread of BL. 1 Since the sexual content was often violent, yaoi can also be seen as a humorous acronym for the following phrase: yamete, oshiri ga itai (‘stop, my ass hurts’).

A crucial step in the rise of BL as a globally enjoyed genre was its advance into the territory of Japanese animation, commonly known as anime. Although the homosexual relationship shown in Patarillo! (1982) only occurs between two supporting characters, the show can still be considered an early representative of BL themes in anime. By the time The Poem of Wind and Trees was released as an anime (renamed Sanctus) in 1987, the BL genre had undoubtedly breached the anime market.

2 Wim Lunsing, ‘Yaoi Ronsō: Discussing Depictions of Male Homosexuality in Japanese Girls’ Comics, Gay Comics and Gay Pornography,’ Intersections: Gender and Sexuality in Asia and the Pacific, no. 12 (2006): 7–9, 14, 17, 20 and 26. 1–34. 3 Ágnes Zsila, et al., ‘Loving the love of boys: Motives for consuming yaoi media,’ PloS one 13, 6 (2018): 1–17.

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The term BL itself made its first appearance on the cover of the magazine Image (Imāju イマージュ), published by Byakuya-Shobo in 1991. 4 While yaoi was closely related to the non-commercial fan fiction scene, the use of the term ‘BL’ for a wide range of original works demonstrates the expansion of this genre. When Kinokuniya (Kinokuniya shoten 紀伊國屋書店), Tokyo’s largest bookstore, dedicated a manga fair to BL on its ground floor in March 2002, the genre reached the milestone of mainstream Japanese publishing. 2 At the same time, other global markets were showing interest in the genre as well. For example, the American publisher Tokyopop released a translated version of the manga FAKE in 2003 (Fig. 3). 1 Even in the 2020s, the rise of global BL continues as multiple publishers launch labels specifically dedicated to this genre. In spring 2020, for example, Tokyopop unveiled their new imprint LOVE x LOVE, which features shōjo, josei (for a more adult female readership), BL, and GL (Girls Love) titles. In spring 2021, the German publisher Carlsen launched Hayabusa (隼: falcon), supplementing the existing label Carlsen Manga! with further BL, romance, and sliceof-life stories. Moreover, BL dramas from South-East Asia, predominantly Thailand and the Philippines, are now rapidly gaining popularity. According to a study by the Yano Research Institute, the BL market generated ¥2.2 billion (or €16.8 million) in 2010 and has shown stable progress in the 2010s. 3

4 Takarai Rihito, Hajimete no hito no tame no BL gaido [A Beginner's Guide to BL], (Tōkyō: Genkōsha, 2015), 76.

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Fig. 3 Fake, Matō Sanami.

Who Reads BL? Several critics have theorised over why BL has such a large female readership. One reason might be because it originated from a genre catering to women. BL stories are thought to provide safe spaces in which women can identify with any character and live out their desires distanced from the traditional, patriarchal concept of male-female hierarchy. 5 Nagaike Kazumi explores the extent to which BL could be labelled as ‘pornography directed at women’. While the ‘male gaze’ is an objectifying view of the female body, Nagaike argues that ‘the core of yaoi fantasy lies in the interaction between ‘the [female] gaze’ and ‘female sexual desire’. 5 The most fervent representatives of this readership have assumed the term fujoshi 腐女子(腐: rotten, 女子: girl) as an act of self-empowerment. One plot element, which further distinguishes BL from the pornographic genre of hentai or manga for gay men (bara 薔薇: rose) is the ‘master narrative of “true love”’. 5 Even sexual assault can be explained by the overflowing love of one character for the other, such as Sekaiichi Hatsukoi (世界一初恋: The World’s Greatest First Love) by Nakamura Shungiku (中村春菊; 1980).

However, the existence of the male counterpart of fujoshi, called fudanshi ( 腐男子: rotten boy), shows that the readership of BL is not exclusively female. Regardless of their sexuality, men also enjoy BL narratives for a variety of reasons. In a quantitative analysis conducted in Hungary, Zsilsa et al. investigated ten ‘motivational dimensions’ for consuming yaoi media. In general, readers consumed BL because of its melodramatic aspects. Other important dimensions were a romantic or erotic genre geared towards women, art and aesthetics, arousal, and identification. 3 The motivations were similar among all ages and genders. The only major difference was found between heterosexual readers, who rated romantic or erotic genres geared towards women higher, and homosexual readers, who deemed identification as more important. In addition, the laws of a country may influence the rationale for reading BL. In some Asian countries, such as Taiwan or China, laws prohibit the production and reading of explicit BL content. Thus, the desire for freedom of expression or the challenging of social taboos may be what drives those readers. 3

5 Nagaike Kazumi, ‘Perverse Sexualities, Perversive Desires: Representations of Female Fantasies and “Yaoi Manga” as Pornography Directed at Women,’ U.S.-Japan Women’s Journal, No. 25 (2003):82–85, 93 and 98.

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The Yaoi Dispute While many different people read BL for a variety of reasons, a dispute (yaoi ronsō やおい論争) has emerged centring on the sexually explicit nature of yaoi narratives. In 1992, the gay activist and drag queen Satō Masaki criticised yaoi in the feminist magazine Choisir, a publication ‘devoted to the discussion of female sexuality by women’. 2 Satō started a discussion about the potential harm done to gay men through their typical depictions in yaoi. For one, he condemned the voyeuristic element of such narratives, which allowed heterosexual women to fetishize gay men. Moreover the lack of realism, through the almost exclusive depiction of beautiful gay men, supposedly created a skewed image of reality. 2 Two further problematic plot elements were that sexual assault occurred frequently under the guise of ‘true love’, and that characters often did not acknowledge their gay or queer identities. But Lunsing’s brief comparison of yaoi narratives with a few representative gay manga, drawn by Hirosegawa Susumu and Gengorō Tagame (Fig. 4), showed that these elements also appeared in comics made by and for gay men. 2 The major difference between the predominantly female readership of yaoi and male readership of gay manga can thus be found in the ‘aspect of voyeurism’. 2 While this dispute mainly concerns sexually explicit narratives, the genre of BL at large is of course not exempt from criticism. Nonetheless, the various reasons for reading BL stories indicates a desire for storytelling that is equally diverse.

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Fig. 4 Endless Game, Gengorō Tagame.

BL Genres There is a huge range of different sub-genres in the BL world, catering to every taste. We have already touched briefly upon bara, heavily influenced by the art of Tagame Gengorō (田亀源五郎; 1964), which depicts stories containing hairier and more muscular protagonists, mostly tailored to a gay, male audience. In terms of aesthetics, bara manga can be considered the polar opposite of the shotakon sub-genre, which features prepubescent boys. The term shotakon (ショタコン) is the abbreviation of Shōtarō complex and refers to attraction towards young boys. This sub-genre revolves around the cuteness of its characters, with narratives ranging from mildly suggestive to pornographic. Due to its portrayal of young characters in often suggestive storylines, the sub-genre is viewed with contention.

In many countries, child pornography laws are ambiguous regarding fictional representations of children. Thus, many Western publishers either avoid this genre entirely or choose to translate strictly non-erotic stories. Another important sub-genre is the omegaverse. In such narratives, society is divided into primary genders (female/ male) and secondary genders (alpha/ beta/omega), showing a hierarchical stratification. Alphas are usually successful and powerful, betas are the common people, and omegas are the least dominant. The characters can release pheromones that attract others, and a special bond can be created between alphas and omegas.

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The Transformative Potential of BL Rather than simply being a form of escapism, the BL genre has the power to make readers reflect on society as a whole. Since the 1980s, the development of more realistic representations in BL manga has only become more widespread. By depicting the challenges faced by homosexuals within a heteronormative society, manga artists can promote greater empathy among their readership. The gay erotic artist Gengorō Tagame is well known for his hardcore pornographic works of art. However, he has also drawn manga which revolve around the daily lives of homosexual men. For example, My Brother’s Husband (Otōto no otto 弟の夫; Fig. 5) delves into Yaichi’s prejudices against homosexuality. When his late brother’s Canadian partner visits Japan, Yaichi needs to re-evaluate his established believes. In contrast to his hardcore works, Tagame addresses homophobia delicately in My Brother’s Husband. As the LGBTQIA+ community and its acceptance within societies around the world continues to evolve, this progress is reflected in the narratives portrayed in manga.

Fig. 5 My Brother’s Husband, Gengorō Tagame.

Dreaming Big Of course, not every BL story needs to be a genre-transcending or thought-provoking masterpiece. As the motivations for reading BL manga show, many readers simply want to enjoy the melodrama as a break from reality. BL stories set in the omegaverse have the same raison d’être as narratives featuring a more realistic representation of the LGBTQIA+ community. Nonetheless, BL narratives 118

seem to maintain a heightened awareness of gender and sexuality. Portraying the lived reality of being LGBTQIA+, with all its challenges, is thus becoming increasingly mainstream in BL culture. It remains to be seen whether such fictional stories will be able to promote long-lasting acceptance.

Final Recommendations Kimberly’s recommendations:

Paola’s recommendations:

Twittering Birds Never Fly [Yakuza], Fig. 6 below

Kashikomarimashita, Destiny: Answer [Omegaverse], Fig. 7 below

10 Dance [Dance rivals] Blue Morning [Historical]

Honto Yajū [Yakuza and police officer] Nirameba Koi [School]

Suggested Readings Takeuchi, Kayo. ‘The Genealogy of Japanese “Shōjo Manga” (Girls’ Comic) Studies.’ U.S.-Japan Women's Journal, No. 38 (2010): 81–112. Taylor, Zoe. ‘Girls’ World: How the women of the “Year Group 24” revolutionised girls’ comics in Japan in the late 1970s.’ Varoom! The Illustration Report, 33 (2016): 34–43.

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OPINION PIECE

LOVE IN THE TIME OF COVID

Separated During the Pandemic: Testimonies of an International Couple Marty Borsotti

The following piece is a testament to the experience and feelings of an international couple, separated for almost two years due to the closure of Japan’s borders in response to prevent the spread of the novel coronavirus. This account is not meant to criticise, in any shape or form, political decisions legitimately adopted by a sovereign state. Our intention is to offer readers an insight into how the sudden, and seemingly unending, closure of Japan’s borders has impacted the lives of many people. The testimonies below were recorded at a time when the couple had already been separated for nearly two years, as they awaited the processing of marriage documents by both Japanese and foreign authorities. At such a delicate time they agreed to share with us their thoughts on their experience as a separated couple, albeit with a degree of anonymity regarding any precise details. What we will present below are a couple of texts that our contributors kindly sent to us: the Japanese national wrote in Japanese, which piece we presented accompanied by a translation we operated, while the European contributors wrote to us directly in English.

In today’s world, couples are still forcefully separated on a daily basis, and our guest contributors are well aware of the privileged conditions they live in, separated by a mere political measure. Wars, climate disasters, and much more have been the cause of countless separations, with some being torn away from their children and imprisoned in 21 st century concentration camps, and others losing their lives whilst seeking a better future. In many cases, individuals cannot even rely on SNS or communication devices to maintain regular contact with their significant others. Many spend months, even years, without knowing if their loved ones are doing fine, if they sleep well, or if they are missing them. To all these people go our thoughts and prayers, along with our deepest sympathy. May you soon be reunited with your loved ones.

Fig. 1 Utagawa Kuniyoshi (歌川国芳; 1797–1861). Chunagon Yakamochi (no. 6) 中納言家持 from the series One Hundred Poems by One Hundred Poets (Hyakunin isshu no uchi百人一首之内; ca, 1842). Published by Ebisu.

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Testimony from the Japanese Perspective 国際遠距離結婚生活（手続きが果てしないのでもう少し続く）であるので、籍を入れたものの、何も変わらない。苗字も、一人暮らしも、何も。先月より会社での立場が変わって、動かす金額も、抱える部下の人生も、色んなことに最終責任を取るようになって、私はキャリアウーマンの階段を着実に登っている。元々仕事とプライベートをキッパリ分けたいタイプなのだが、あまりに何も変わらないので、時々自分が結婚していることを忘れそうになる。だから忘れない為に、わざわざ左薬指に指輪をはめている。結婚指輪ではなく、昨年ボーナスで買った指輪。左薬指に指輪をはめると、私は一つの個人情報を世間に露呈している気分になって、あまり心地よくない。コンビニでも、ガソリンスタンドでも、レストランでも、誰も私を知らないのに、私は既婚者であることを発表してる気分になる。

International, long-distance marital life (the bureaucracy is never-ending; it will still take a little longer) means that even though our names are inscribed together on the family register, nothing has changed. Not my family name, nor the fact that I still live alone. Nothing has changed. My position within the company improved last month, and with it the amount of money circulating. I became responsible for the lives of those working under my guidance. While climbing the ladder as a career woman, I became responsible for many things. I am the type of person who strives to clearly separate their professional and personal lives. However, since nothing has changed, almost as if it was stagnating, sometimes feel like I am forgetting that I am married to someone. I wear a ring on my left hand to constantly remind myself that I am married. It is not a wedding ring, but one that I bought last year with my first bonus. By wearing this ring, I feel like I am sharing something personal with the world, and I am not comfortable with this feeling. Whether I go to a convenience store, to a gasoline station, or to a restaurant, it’s as though I am telling all these strangers that I am a married person.

自意識過剰だが、それが本当に心地悪い。だから家に帰ってくると、すぐに指輪を外す。プライベートと仕事を分けたいのに、仕事中にプライベートを露呈して、なんだか本当に人間というのは訳が分からない、ロジックの通っていない生き物だなぁと思う。こうして一生仕事して生きていたいなぁと思うし、なんで女性しか妊娠できないのかと思うけど、それもこれも、結局手に入っているから思うのかなぁと思ったり。何が言いたいのかというと、私はもう、待つのが限界です。早く国境開いてください、日本。

I might be overly self-conscious, but my heart is heavy. That is why, as soon as I come home, I take off this ring. Even though I want to separate my professional and private lives, I end up displaying my privacy while at work. I feel that a human being cannot live according to logical patterns; it really is an incomprehensible creature. I would like to continue working like this for the rest of my life. I wonder why it is only us, women, who can bear children. But maybe the reason I think the way I do is because I was lucky enough to fulfil my dreams. What I want to say is that. I cannot wait any longer. I am at my limit. Please open the border soon, Japan.

Testimony from the European Perspective Probably what hurts the most in a situation like ours is not missing our loved one, but being aware that we are missed by them. It is the awareness of being helpless, as you are unable to do anything to relieve the pain your significant other is constantly feeling. Nothing but empty wishes for an endless soon to come future: ‘you will see in a couple of months they will open the borders, we just have to wait a little longer…’ Waiting for a tomorrow that never comes, and knowing it deep inside. Knowing that you can do nothing but wait to be told when you will be able to be with your loved one again. This uncertainty is the heaviest part of the whole experience, as it gives you no perspective, no goal to aim towards. Slowly you feel yourself falling into a state of constant numbness; you almost do not want to think about your beloved one, as their memory will inevitably remind you that you are not with them, and that you cannot reassure them. ‘I am with you’ starts to feel like empty words as the months go by, like ‘good night’ or something similar. And while you wait, and wait, you watch the few privileged ones traverse an invisible border that is barred to you, and your strength is taken away. ‘What would I give to be able to go to Japan?’ becomes a mantra that resounds every time you let your mind wander. Of course, it is not about the

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destination itself but what it represents, as the place where you will be able to reunite with the person you love, from whom you have been separated for almost two years. A span of time which, in a whole lifetime, may only seem an instant, but it is a time you spent apart that instils in you a certain anxiety: ‘Will I meet the same person I left two years ago? How will they have changed during this time?’. It was not an easy period, and it is still not. As I write these words, apprehension is guiding my hand. What will become of us when we meet again? Will we look at each other like complete strangers? How long will it take to get those two years back, to know each other as we once did? To reach that level of connection we shared until that February 2020. I would like to be more cheerful, to tell you how love can overcome everything, but I would be lying to you. I got married, but I was not there. I missed my own wedding, could you believe it? I was one among many others who were unable to cross that border. I feel like we are paying the price for the actions of a small circle of people who must have forgotten what it feels like to love someone.

May Your Troubles Last Not a Day Longer We are happy to conclude by telling you that since then, this international couple was able to meet in Japan and are now spending their days together, reunited at last. As they walk the wondrous path that is conjugal life, we wish them all the best for their future. Finally, we would like to turn our thoughts once again to all the lovers, and loved ones, who are still yet to reunite

Fig. 2 Tsukioka Yoshitoshi (月岡芳年; 1839–1892). The Moon of the Milky Way (Ginga no tsuki 銀河月) from the series One Hundred Aspects of the Moon (Tsuki no hyakushi 月百姿; September 1886).

L'Amoureuse: The Story of Kaguya-Hime Through the Sixth Key of the Tarot Refresh our Ears: Unusual Kinds of Love in Fig. 3 © The Trustees of the British Museum

Japanese Retro-Pop Songs

Love for Sale: Hiroshige III’s Instructions on

How to Be a Good Wife

Dreaming Big: Boys Love and Its Way into

the World

and History, Brussels, JP.07138 (Creative

Commons CC BY – KMKG/RMAH/MRAH)

and History, Brussels, JP.07137 (Creative

Commons CC BY – KMKG/RMAH/MRAH)

The Stormy Family (Taifū Kazoku 大風家族)

Love in the Time of Covid: Separated

Loveless Marriage: The Case of 20

Century

‘Picture Brides’ (Shashin Hanayome 写真花嫁) Immigration Patterns from Japan to North America Fig. 3-5 © Department of Justice, Immigration and Naturalization Service, San Francisco District Office Fig. 6 © National Archives at College Park Fig. 7-8 © Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress Fig. 9 © Miramax

All camellia illustrations were drawn by Enrico Bachmann

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Chief editor Managing editors

Luigi ZENI, Switzerland Aurel BAELE, Japan Marty BORSOTTI, Japan

Content editor Copy editors

Freya TERRYN, Belgium Julian BENTHAM, United Kingdom Penelope BENTHAM, United Kingdom Tim BENTHAM, United Kingdom

Translator

Amelia LIPKO, Switzerland

Graphic designer

Riccardo LOPES, Switzerland

Web developer

Paola CITTERIO, Switzerland

Social media manager Communication manager Digital marketing manager Illustrator Contributors

Manuel Jose FLORES AGUILAR, Japan Aurelia ANTONINI, Switzerland Giovanni BALDI, Italy Enrico BACHMANN, Switzerland Anita DREXLER, Belgium Clément VEUILLOT, France Damiana DE GENNARO, Italy Kimberly SCHLEGEL, Switzerland Molly PI, Switzerland Paulus KAUFMANN, Germany

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