Tokyo, April 1.
Our activities of late have been miscellaneous; we spent three
days, counting coming and going four days, at Kamakura last week. It is on the seaside and
is a great resort, summer and winter, for the Japanese, and at the hotel for
Europeans over weekends. For summers the foreigners go to the mountains, while
the Japanese take to the seaside, largely because there is more for the
children to do on the seashore, but partly because mountains seem to be an
acquired taste. Kamakura is about ten degrees
warmer than Tokyo,
as it is sheltered by the hills. Peas were in blossom and the cherry trees all
out. It was cold and rainy while we were there, however, except one day, when
we crowded in so much sightseeing we got rather tired. Mamma and I are now
catching up on calls, prior to leaving and
doing some sightseeing. To-day we went to a shop where they publish very fine
reproductions of the old art of Japan,
including Chinese paintings owned in Japan, much better worth buying
than the color print reproductions to my mind, though we have laid in some
reproductions of the latter. There are so many millionaires made by the war in Japan, that
lots of the old lords are selling out part of their treasures now; prices I
think are too high even for Americans. The old Daimyo families evidently have
enough business sense to take advantage of the market, though some are hard up
and sell more for that reason. A week ago we went to an auction room where
there was a big collection of genuine old stuff, much finer than appears in the
curio shops, and this weekend there is another big sale by a Marquis. However,
it is said they keep the best things and unload on the nouveau riche; not but
what a lot of it is mighty good as it is.
My other experience that I have not written about is seeing
Judo. The great Judo expert is president of a normal school, and he arranged a
special exhibition by experts for my benefit, he explaining the theory of each
part of it in advance. It took place Sunday morning in a big Judo hall, and
there were lots of couples doing “free” work, too; they are too quick for my
eye in that to see anything but persons suddenly thrown over somebody’s back
and flopped down on the ground. It is really an art. The Professor took the old
practices and studied them, worked out their mechanical principles, and then
devised a graded scientific set of exercises. The system is really not a lot of
tricks, but is based on the elementary laws of mechanics, a study of the
equilibrium of the human body, the ways in which it is disturbed, how to
recover your own and take advantage of the shiftings of the center of gravity
of the other person. The first thing that is taught is how to fall down without
being hurt, that alone is worth the price of admission and ought to be taught
in all our gyms. It isn’t a good substitute for out-of-door games, but I think
it is much better than most of our inside formal gymnastics. The mental element
is much stronger. In short, I think a study ought to be made here from the
standpoint of conscious control. Tell Mr. Alexander to get a book by Harrison—a compatriot of his—out of the library, called
“The Fighting Spirit of Japan.” It is a journalist’s book, not meant to be
deep, but is interesting and said to be reliable as far as it goes. I noticed
at the Judo the small waists of all these people; they breathe always from the
abdomen. Their biceps are not specially large, but their forearms are larger
than any I have ever seen. I have yet to see a Japanese throw his head back
when he rises. In the army they have an indirect method of getting deep
breathing which really goes back to the Buddhist Zen teaching of the old Samurai. However,
they have adopted a lot of the modern physical exercises from other armies.
The gardens round here are full of cherry trees in blossom—and the
streets are full of people too full of saké. The Japanese take their
drunkenness apparently seasonly, as we hadn’t seen drunken people till now.
Tokyo, April 2.
We have had another great day to-day. This morning rose early and
wrote letters, which were not sent in spite of the haste, as we decided the
slow boat was slower than waiting for a later and faster one. So you ought to
get many letters at once. The day has been sunshiny and bright, but not at all
sultry, so perfect for getting about. We went to the art store to get some
prints which we had selected the day before and then on to call on a Professor
of Political Economy, who is also a member of Parliament, radical and very wide
awake and interesting, quite like an American in his energy and curiosity and
interest. We visited and learned a lot about things here and there and then he
took us to lunch at his mother-in-law’s house. They have a beautiful house in
Japanese style, with a foreign
style addition, like most of the houses of the rich, the Japanese part having
no resemblance whatever to the foreign, which is so much less beautiful. In
carpets and table covers and tapestries imitated from the German, the Japanese
have no taste, while in their own line they remain exquisite. This house is one
of the most absolute cleanliness. No floor in it but shines like a mirror and
has not a fleck of dust, never had one. Let me see if I can describe accurately
this entertainment. We took three ’rickshas and rode through the cherry lined
narrow streets over hills where are the lovely gardens of the rich showing
through the gateways and showing over the top of the bamboo walls, which are
built of poles about six feet long upright and tied together with cords. They
are very pretty with the green. When we reached the house Mr. U—— took
us in to the foreign drawing room, which is very mid-Victorian and German in
its general effect. This one has in it
a beautiful lacquer cabinet, very large and quite overpowering every other
thing in the room. There the ladies of the house came in and made their bows,
very amiable and smiling at our thanks for their hospitality. The
sister-in-law, a young girl of sixteen, who wants to go to America, and
afterwards the grandmother, very much the commanding character that a
grandmother ought to be. The children hovered round them all much like our
children. The ladies brought us tea with their own hands in lovely blue and
white cups with little lacquer stands and covers. Candy with the tea, which was
green. I forgot to say that we had already, during the hour with Mr. U—— had
tea three different times and of three different kinds, besides little
refreshments therewith. After a little we were summoned to lunch. Three places
set on a low table and a beautiful blue brocade cushion to sit upon. The two
younger ladies on their knees ready to serve us. They poured out wine for us,
or Vermouth, and we took the
latter. We had before us, each, one lacquer bowl, covered, that contained the
usual fish soup with little pieces of fish and green things cut up in it. This
we drink, putting the solid bits into our mouths with the chop sticks. The
grandmother thought she ought to have prepared foreign food, but the clever
girl of sixteen had spoken for home food, and so we thanked them for giving
that to us, as we seldom get a real genuine Japanese meal. And this is the
first we have had where we were served by the ladies of the house, except the
dolls’ food at the festival. It seems this is the highest compliment that we
have had, as the real Japanese home is open to the foreigner only when the
foreigner is asked to sit on the floor and is served by the ladies of the
household. They kneel near the table and the maid brings the dishes and hands
them to the ladies, who in turn serve the dishes to the guests. It is very
pretty. I have reached the stage where I
can sit on my heels for the length of a meal, but I rise very awkwardly, as my
feet are asleep clear up to my knees at the end. We ate soup, cold fried
lobster and shrimps, which are dipped in sauce besides; and cold vegetables in
another bowl, and then hot fried fish; then some little pickles, then rice, of
which the Japanese eat several bowls, then the dessert, which has been beside
you all the time, and is a cold omelette, which tastes very good, and then they
give you tea, Formosa oolong. We had toast, too, but that is foreign. Then we
left the table and were shown the rooms upstairs, which contain many pieces of
lacquer and bronze and woodwork, and then we went down and there was tea and a
dish of fruit ready for us. We had not much time for this, as they were going
to send us in a motor to the Imperial
Gardens. But as the last
kind of tea had to be brought we were at the door putting on our shoes when it
arrived. This tea is strong
oolong and has milk in it, with two lumps of sugar for you to put in yourself.
Thus we had been served with tea six times within three hours.
It is hard to describe the Imperial Gardens.
Read the guide book and you will see that it is. Ten thousand orchid plants
were the beginning of the sight. We saw the lettuce and the string beans and
the tomatoes and potatoes and eggplant and melons, and all growing under glass,
for the Emperor to eat. Never saw such perfect lettuce, all the heads in one
frame of exactly the same size and arrangement, as if they were artificial, and
all the others just right. Why potatoes under glass? Don’t ask me. Grapes in
pots looked as if the raising of grapes under glass was in its beginning, but
maybe not, as I was not familiar enough with those little vines to know whether
they would bear or not. The flowers in the frames were perfection. Masses of
Mignonette daisies, and some other bright flowers
I did not know were ready to put out in the beds which were prepared for the
garden party. We cannot go on the 17th. A very large pavilion with shingle roof
under which the Emperor and Empress are to sit at the party is being built and
will be taken down the next day, or rather week, as it will take more than one
day. Then if it rains there will be no party. To-night it looks as if rain
might spoil the blossoms. But to-day was perfect. It is a little surprising
when one sees this famous garden after reading about Japanese gardens for all
one’s life. There is such a large expanse of grass with no flowers and the
grass does not get green here so soon as with us, and it is now all brown,
though big masses of daffodils are superb. These under the cherry trees with
the sunshine shining through slantways made one of the brilliant sights of a
lifetime. The artificial lakes and rivers and waterfall and the bridges and
islands and hills with big birds walking and swimming
make enough to have come for to Japan.
The groups of trees are as fine as anything can be and across the long expanses
the view of them is like a succession of pictures. There are a hundred and
sixty-five acres in the park, no buildings. In the beginning it was pretty well
to one side of the city, but now it is on a car track of much travel, though
still on the outskirts on its outer edge.
On Monday we have arranged to go to the theater again at the
Imperial. To-day it is the great actor Ganjiro at a small theater. It is said
the jealousy of the Tokyo
actors and managers keeps Ganjiro from getting a fair chance when he comes here. Mr. T——, formerly
of Chicago, has
just been here to try to arrange a dinner for us before we leave, the dinner to
be at a restaurant with all the old students present. The restaurants are
always amusing and we agreed, of course. This may keep us in Tokyo one day longer, though that is not
decided yet. For the rest
of the time we are to make up on calls as far as we can and ride about to see
the cherry blossoms, and I hope we may see some of the famous tea houses. Thus
far we have seen no tea house at all, and there is not one afternoon tea house
where ladies go in this city excepting the new-fashioned department stores, and
they do not stand for anything different than they do with us. This shows how
little the real ladies of Tokyo
go out of their houses.
The Sumida river is a big river gathering up all the small streams
from one side of the mountains. It is full of junks and other craft and is the
center of much history, both for Tokyo
as a city and for the whole country.
Tokyo, April 4.
Ganjiro, the greatest actor from Osaka, is acting here now, and the show was
great. He did the scene among other things they did in New York under the name of “Bushido.” A
dance by a fox who had taken the form of a man was a wonderful thing. There is
no use in trying to describe it. It was not just slow posturing, like the other
Japanese dances we have seen, nor was it as wild as the Russian dancers; he did
it alone, no companion, male or female. But it was as free as the Russian and
much more classic at the same time. You will never realize what the human hand
and arm can do until you see this. He put on a number of masks and then acted
or danced according to the type of mask he had on. He can do an animal’s
motions without any clawing—as graceful and
lithe as a cat. He is a son of an old man Ganjiro.
Our last days here are rather crowded and we aren’t going to get
the things done that should be done. Cherry blossoms are at their
height—another thing indescribable, but if dogwood trees were bigger and the
blossoms were tinged with pink without being pink it would give the effect more
than anything else I know. The indescribable part is the tree full of blossoms
without leaves; of course you get that in the magnolias, but they are coarse
where the cherry is delicate. We went to a museum to-day, which is finer in
some respects than the Imperial; gods till you can’t rest, and wonderful
Chinese things, everything except paintings.
Tokyo, April 8.
We are actually packing up and get away to-morrow morning at
8:30—we travel all day, the first part till four o’clock on the fastest train
in Japan.
The ordinary trains make about fifteen miles an hour, Japan having
unfortunately adopted narrow gauge in early days and going on the well-known
principle of safety first. We have had various and sundry experiences since
writing, the most interesting being on Sunday, when we were taken into the
country both to see the cherry blossoms and the merry-makers; the time is a
kind of a carnival and mild saturnalia based on bright clothes, and wigs, and
saké, about ninety per cent saké. There were a few besides ourselves not
intoxicated, but not many. Everybody practiced whatever English he knew on us,
one dressed-up fellow informing us “I Chrallie Chaplin,” and he was as good an
imitation as most. Aside from one fight we saw no rudeness and not much
boisterousness, the mental effect being apparently to make them confidential
and demonstrative. Usually they are very reserved with one another, but Sunday
it looked as if they were telling each other all their deepest secrets and life
ambitions. Our host of the day laughed most benevolently all the time, not
excluding when a fellow dressed in bright red woman’s clothes insisted on
riding on the running board. They get drunk so seldom that it didn’t appeal to
him so much as a drunk as it did as a popular festival; the people really were
happy.
There were miles of trees planted each side of a canal that
supplies Tokyo with water, all kinds of trees and in all stages of development,
from no blossoms to full, no leaf and beautiful little pink leaves. The
blossoms are dropping, it is almost a mild snowfall, and yet the trees seem
full.
Yesterday we went to the theater again, the Imperial, a
party of ten filling two boxes. We were taken behind the scenes and shown the
green rooms, etc., and introduced to an actor and to his son, about eleven, who
appeared on the stage later and did a very pretty dance. He had a teacher in
the room and was doing his Chinese writing lesson, never looked up till he was
spoken to, about the handsomest and most intelligent looking lad I have seen in
Japan. Acting is practically a hereditary profession here. I doubt if an
outsider not trained from early childhood could possibly do the acting anyway,
and I don’t think the guild would let him break in if he could, though one man
of British extraction has been quite successful on the Japanese stage. We saw
some very interesting things yesterday, including dances, and learned that they
are very anxious to come to America,
but they want a patron. If the scenes were selected with great care to take
those that have lots of action
and not so much talking, and the libretto was carefully explained, they could
make a hit in New York
at least.
Our other blowout was the other evening at a Japanese classic tea
house, a part of a Noh dance for entertainment and a twelve-course meal or so.
The most interesting thing though is talking to people. On the whole I think we
have a chance to see people who know Japan much better than most. We
haven’t been officialized and putting the different things together I think we
have as good an acquaintance with the social conditions as anybody would be
likely to get in eight weeks. An experienced journalist could get it, so far as
information is concerned, in a few days, but I think things have to be soaked
in by cumulative impressions to get the feel of the thing and the background.
When they told me first that this was a great psychological moment, that
everything was critical and crucial, I didn’t know what they meant, and I could
hardly put it in words now, any
more than they did, but I know inside of me. There are few external signs of a
change, but Japan
is nearly in the condition she was in during the first years of contact and
opening up of things fifty or so years ago, so far as the mental readiness for
change is concerned, and the next few years may see rapid social changes.
Nara, April 12.
Well, we have started on our journey and have seen Japan for the
first time, scenically speaking, that is to say. The first day’s ride from
Tokyo to Nagoya was interesting, but not particularly so except for Fuji, which
we saw off and on for several hours, and on three sides. As sometimes it isn’t
visible, and we had a fine warm day, we had good luck. Nagoya is where the best
old castle in Japan is, you may even in your benighted country and estate have
heard of the two golden dolphins on top. The castle is an imperial palace and
it turned out that you have to have a permit from Tokyo, but we set out to try
to get in, and as we had met a nice young man at the X——’s in
Tokyo who came from Nara, we telephoned him, and while we didn’t get in through
him (he said he could never get in himself under any circumstances) he promptly asked
us to dinner. Then we were taken to the swellest tea house in Nara and had
another of those elaborate dinners, on what he called the tea-istic plan. We
began with the tea ceremony without the ceremony but with the powdered tea, the
bowl being prepared for each one separately in succession. The Nara cooking is
better, we all thought, than the Tokyo, the food being more savuory and the
variety of flavors greater, an opinion which pleased our host. Expressing some
curiosity about some four-inch trout which seemed to have a sugar caramel
coating, we found that they were cooked in a kind of liquor which deposited the
sweetness, and then we were presented with a bottle of the drink known as
Mirin, so now we are lugging glassware. Then after the dinner he said that he
hoped that we would not think him guilty of improper action, but that he had
invited the best samisen player and singer in Nagoya, and also some dancers. In other words, some geishas
were introduced and sang, played and danced before King David. There are all
grades from those comparable to chorus girls at Jack’s to high grade actresses,
and these were of the upper kind. He said he wished us to see something of true
Japan which few foreigners saw, this referring to the restaurant as well as the
dancing. They won’t receive anybody who isn’t an old client or friend of one of
these high toned places. But the ladies of the party thought he was especially
interested in one of the girls. Personally I think the dancing and music are
much more interesting than they are reported to be in the guide books.
The next day we went to the primitive Ise shrines, arriving cross
and hungry at about two, but bound to get the pilgrimage over, especially as it
wasn’t good weather. Yamada, where the sacred shrines are, is a very beautiful
place, with wooded hills and little streams. The trees are largely
cryptomerias, which are evidently
some relative of the California redwoods, and while not nearly as tall, make
much the same effect. It is a darling spot, filled with the usual thousands of
carpet bagger (literally the old Brussels carpet bags) pilgrims. As previously
reported I toted a borrowed frock coat and stovepipe hat. Our guide said
special clothing was not needed for the ladies. I put on my war paint, and the
chief priest having been written from Tokyo of our impending arrival, an hour
had been set. At the outermost gate, the Torii, the ceremony of purification,
took place. We had water poured out on our hands out of a little ceremonial cup
and basin and then the priest sprinkled salt on us; nobody else had this but us.
Then when we got to the fence gate, we were told that the ladies not having
“visiting dresses,” whatever they are, couldn’t go inside, but that I should be
treated as of the same rank as an Imperial professor and allowed to go. I
forgot to say that we had a gendarme in front of us to shoo the vulgar
herd out of our way. Then we marched slowly in behind the priest, on stones
brought from the seaside, through a picket fence to designated spots near the
next fence, I being allowed nearer to the gate than our Japanese guide; and we
worshiped, that is bowed. I got my bow over disgracefully quick, but I think
our Japanese conductor stood at least fifteen minutes.
Kyoto, April 15.
...
(LETTERS FROM CHINA AND JAPAN, John Dewey and Alice
Chipman Dewey; E. P. DUTTON & comp. 1920, New York)
