The appeal to different genders is apparent in the titles. Unlike the titles of sharebon, which were concise, Chinese, and masculine in style, using Sino-Japanese on-readings like Yūshi hōgen (The Playboy Dialect), the titles of ninjōbon like Shunshoku umegoyomi (Spring-Color Plum Calendar) were softer, longer, and more elegant, frequently using terms such as shunshoku (spring colors / spring love) and romantic Japanese words like hana (plum or cherry blossoms), tsuki (moon), kasumi (mist), and koi (love). Indeed, Tamenaga Shunsui was aided by Kiyomoto Nobutsuga, a female writer and master of Kiyomoto-style singing and shamisen playing, who wrote the first drafts of the women’s dialogue for Spring-Color Plum Calendar and for Shunsui’s other ninjōbon, as well as helping him with passages dealing with songs and music.
TAMENAGA SHUNSUI
Not much is known about the first half of Tamenaga Shunsui’s (1790–1843) life, except that he was born in Edo. Toward the end of the Bunka era (1804–1818), he managed a bookstore called the Seirindō, which operated as a lending library. It was at this time that he became interested in writing fiction and worked with such writers as Ryūtei Tanehiko (1783–1842) and Shikitei Sanba (1776–1822). In 1819 Shunsui published his first work of fiction, which was followed by a series of novels, most of which were written with friends and students. He also became a professional storyteller who performed sewamono, or stories of contemporary life, rather than rakugo, or comic stories. In 1829 a fire destroyed his bookstore/publishing house, and thereafter he devoted himself solely to writing, taking the pen name Tamenaga Shunsui, by which he became widely known. In 1832 he published the first two installments of Spring-Color Plum Calendar, which became the model for later ninjōbon. In response to his publisher’s demand, Shunsui wrote Spring-Color Southeast Garden (Shunshoku tatsumi no sono), about Fukagawa, and other sequels to Plum Calendar, creating a distinctive “Tamenaga style.”
Shunsui’s indebtedness to Shikitei Sanba’s kokkeibon is apparent in his interest in contemporary manners and realistic dialogue, an interest no doubt enforced by his experience as a professional storyteller. Shunsui’s vivid descriptions of Edo commoner life and his narrative format had a large impact on Meiji literature, particularly the Kenyūsha (Society of Friends of the Inkpot) novelists. In 1842, during the repressive Tenpō Reforms (1830–1844), Shunsui was found guilty of writing pornography and was imprisoned for fifty days. He died a year later at the age of fifty-three.
SPRING-COLOR PLUM CALENDAR (SHUNSHOKU UMEGOYOMI,1833)
The plot of Spring-Color Plum Calendar revolves around the efforts of four women—Yonehachi, Ochō, Oyoshi, and Konoito—to become independent, support themselves, and find happiness with the men whom they love. All four women are in difficult situations, and two, Ochō and Yonehachi, are in love with the same man, Tanjirō. The first half of the book focuses mainly on Ochō and Yonehachi, who are at first jealous of each other but come to trust each other by the end of the book. Ochō is the daughter of the managers, now dead, of the Karakotoya House in the licensed quarter in Kamakura, a code word for Yoshiwara in Edo. While Ochō is still in her early teens, her parents adopt a man named Tanjirō into the family and tell Ochō that he is her future husband and will help her run the Karakotoya. Before the action begins, Ochō’s parents die, and the head clerk, Kihei, usurps Ochō’s place as manager, claiming that she is too young, and tricks her fiancé, Tanjirō, into being adopted by another family with large debts to Kihei, debts for which Tanjirō becomes responsible. The impoverished Tanjirō goes into hiding and is discovered by Yonehachi, a geisha musician at the Karakotoya, who works to help him.
Kihei tries to seduce Ochō and force her to marry him so that he will have a legal right to the house. But Ochō loves Tanjirō and adamantly refuses, so Kihei harasses her. Konoito, the highest-ranking courtesan in the house, is a motherly figure who does her best to help Ochō. She begins by helping Ochō escape from the Karakotoya to an area south of Edo where she can begin a new life and find Tanjirō. During her escape, Ochō is saved from a difficult situation by Oyoshi, a female gang leader who works as a hairdresser just east of Edo. The fearless Oyoshi adopts Ochō as her sister and encourages her to support herself by becoming a Gidayū performer of jōruri librettos.
Meanwhile, Konoito strives with almost sisterly affection to help Yonehachi, who also loves Tanjirō. First she concocts a scheme to allow Yonehachi to break her contract and become an independent geisha performer outside the quarter, and then she has her special customer and lover, Tōbei, test Yonehachi in order to find out whether her love for Tanjirō is true. Finally convinced that it is, Tōbei and Konoito do their best in the second half of the book to help both Ochō and Yonehachi. Through Tobei’s efforts, Konoito and Oyoshi discover that they are sisters, and both are united with their lovers. Tōbei also discovers that Tanjirō is actually the son of the head of a prominent warrior clan, and Tanjirō, after a brief fling with a geisha named Adakichi, becomes the new clan leader, marries Ochō, and makes Yonehachi his official mistress. Ochō and Yonehachi are reconciled and become good friends, sharing Tanjirō equally.
Tanjirō is an erotic male figure, the disinherited young man often found in wagoto (soft-style) kabuki, the young man from a good family without money or power for whom women fall head over heels. In Yanagawa Shigenobu’s original illustrations for Plum Calendar, Tanjirō has the face of Onoe Kikugorō III, the popular actor noted for his erotic young male roles. In the late Edo period, the name Tanjirō, along with those of Genji and Narihira, became synonymous with the erotic man. Like the sensuous protagonist of The Tale of Genji, Tanjirō has a number of affairs with different women, but he is a kind of Genji in reverse, since the loving care, support, and protection are provided not by the man Tanjirō but by the dynamic women who love him. The focus of the narrative is clearly on Ochō and Yonehachi, working women who support Tanjirō, as well as their sisterly comrades Konoito and Oyoshi. All are capable of deep feeling but remain tough, bravely facing every adversity.
As critics have noted, Shunsui was interested in the woman of iki (having spirit), which meant being passionate without being promiscuous, tough without being callous, practical without being vulgar, polished without being affected, and a good loser without being weak. A woman with spirit could flirt with a man—a necessary tool of survival in the Fukugawa world of entertainment—but she also had a strong will, professional consciousness, pride, compassion, and an inner drive that distinguished her from other, inexperienced, women. In a world in which women had to compete for men, they had to be soft and polished to attract a man’s attention but tough and determined enough to overcome rivals and other difficulties. Since men generally could not be relied on, this kind of attitude—being both proud and accepting—was probably a useful psychological tool for survival and social harmony. Yonehachi, for example, is flirtatious and yet has immense compassion: she saves Tanjirō from his wretched circumstances and sympathizes with the plight of other women. She also is able to tolerate difficult circumstances and eventually share Tanjirō with Ochō and other women. There are also “tough” women like Oyoshi, who, in a kind of gender reversal, rescues Ochō from male thugs and also represents an equally important form of female iki.
Most important, Shunsui recognized the difficult fate of women in nineteenth-century Japan: their low social status, the dangers and difficulties of becoming self-supporting and independent, and the sacrifices that society forced them to make. At the same time, he seems to have understood the fantasies of young women of that time and gave them heroines with whom they could identify in terms of their accomplishments, their sensitivity, and their suffering. Shunsui’s descriptions and the illustrations of the physical appearance of the women of iki in Plum Calendar—their clothes, hairstyles, and makeup—were so popular that women all over Japan tried to achieve the so-called iki look.
In an apparent effort to attract female readers, Shunsui deliberately tried in Plum Calendar to include as many love scenes as possible. They are prese
nted not as the kinds of verbal and sexual encounters with courtesans found in the male-centered sharebon but as romantic episodes of faithful love and mutual affection. Each of Plum Calendar’s four volumes has at least one climactic love scene. Perhaps in an attempt to protect himself from Confucian condemnation and charges of pornography, Shunsui has his narrator, who directly addresses the reader, argue that compassion and fidelity are the essence of ninjō. In addition, Shunsui often defends the faults of his female characters, pointing out redeeming qualities that the reader may have missed. Indeed, an interesting aspect of Spring-Color Plum Calendar is the tension between the author’s comments and the world of the characters. As long as his love scenes could be interpreted as portrayals of fidelity and devotion, young female readers did not need to feel guilty reading about forbidden topics, and Shunsui could avoid criticism. In the end, however, his worst fears were realized when he was arrested for violating public morals.
CHARACTERS
TANJIRŌ, the adopted son of the former managers of the Karakotoya House; having been wrongfully disinherited and adopted by another family, he has been placed in debt and has gone into hiding; loved by Yonehachi and Ochō
YONEHACHI, a geisha musician at the Karakotoya; later lives as a freelance geisha in Futagawa (Fukagawa), on the outskirts of Edo, to be closer to Tanjirō, whom she loves and supports; eventually becomes Tanjirō’s official mistress and reconciles with Ochō
OCHŌ, the only daughter of the former managers of the Karakotoya; Tanjirō’s fiancée; harassed by Kihei and befriended by Oyoshi; becomes a gidayū chanter under the professional name of Take Chōkichi; eventually marries Tanjirō
KONOITO, a resourceful high-ranking courtesan at the Karakotoya who constantly helps Ochō and Yonehachi
OYOSHI, a tough “boss woman” who works as a women’s hairdresser, rescues Ochō from an attack; Konoito’s lost sister
KIHEI, the male head clerk who takes over the Karakotoya after the death of the managers and drives out Tanjirō
TŌBEI, a special customer and lover of Konoito who shows great sympathy and aids all four women characters
Book 1
CHAPTER 1
Torn paper umbrella
thrown away in a field—
now protecting daffodils.
The dilapidated tenement was nothing to look at, and it provided little more protection from the early winter frost than a torn oil-paper umbrella. There were many gaps in the spindle-tree hedge surrounding it, and beyond that spread rice fields sparsely covered with rice. But for those who lived together in the tenement, it was a warm, intimate place they would never exchange for anywhere else. It was one of five or six such houses in this nearly deserted part of Nakanogō,1 and the people living in it trusted one another and said what they truly felt.
A new tenant had moved into the old house recently, and he was still trying to get used to his cramped living quarters, which lacked everything he was used to. He looked to be eighteen or nineteen and seemed quite gentle. He’d obviously had some bad luck and was now extremely poor. And in the last few days he’d fallen sick and was lying in bed, thin and haggard. Something had surely happened to him to bring him to this wretched condition. This morning a strong, bitterly cold wind was blowing, chilling his whole body, and his face was full of bitterness and anger as he lay alone, thinking.
Yonehachi, wearing a hood, appears at the entrance to Tanjirō’s tenement. The illustration is by Yanagawa Shigenobu I (d. 1832). From the 1832 edition.
“Excuse me!” a woman was saying at the door. “May I come in?”
“Yeah, who is it?”
“It is your voice. It’s you, isn’t it, Tanjirō!” the woman cried, pulling hard at the badly fitted, paper-covered sliding door. It bumped and banged in the frame, but she finally she got it open and rushed inside. She was a stylishly dressed woman wearing a thick silk outer robe with wide gray vertical stripes and a sash of purple striped and figured silk with black satin on the inside. Her inner robe was dark blue and green figured crepe, as was the long kerchief she held in her hand. Her hair was tied in a high bun in back in the style of a professional geisha musician, but her sidelocks were coming loose. She had on no makeup. Either she was proud of her natural face or she’d just gotten up. But her face was beautiful just as it was, and she looked even more attractive when she smiled. Yet there was sadness in her eyes.
Tanjirō, amazed, stared at her. “Yonehachi!” he said. “Why are you here? And how in the world did you find me when I’m trying to hide from everybody? Well, come in, come in. Are you real, or am I just dreaming?” He raised himself and sat up.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t recognize me any more,” Yonehachi said. “I was so worried my heart was really pounding. And I walked as fast as I could, the whole way. Ah, it hurts. Let me have a minute to catch my breath!” She pounded her chest several times. “My throat’s so dry it’s practically stuck together,” she added, sitting down next to Tanjirō. She examined his face closely. “Are you sick with something? You’ve really lost a lot of weight. Ah, look at that, you’ve got no color in your face at all. You’re completely pale. How long have you been like this?”
“It’s nothing. It started about fifteen or sixteen days ago. It’s really not much of anything. I just can’t shake this depressed feeling, that’s all. But let’s not talk about that. How in the world did you ever know I was here? You know, there are so many things I really want to hear about.” A few tears came to his eyes. He truly seemed to be suffering.
“Well,” Yonehachi said, “this morning when I left the house I was planning to make a pilgrimage to the Myōken bodhisattva near here at Hōshō-ji temple. But now . . . it’s just amazing, isn’t it! I had absolutely no idea you were living in a place like this. But the other day, you know, a girl came to live in the house for a while to try out as an apprentice musician. When I asked her her address, she said she lived east of the Sumida. Later, when we all were relaxing, she began talking about her home and her neighborhood, and one of the people she mentioned sounded exactly like you. So that night, when we were talking in bed before we fell asleep, I asked her some more about the man in the place where she lived. But the girl said he had a very stylish, attractive wife, so, well, I decided the girl must not be talking about you. I asked some more, though, and the girl said the man’s wife looks older than you are, and she also said his wife doesn’t stay home all the time. The more I heard, the more I felt like the man must be you. After that I was so worried I just couldn’t stand it. So I talked to the girl and made her promise never to tell anyone I’d asked her all those questions. After that I could hardly wait for the fifteenth to come so I could go pray to Myōken early in the morning and go see everything for myself on my way back. So that’s why I came way out here this morning. Recently I’ve been praying very, very hard to find you, but I never expected to learn where you were just like that! It’s got to be Myōken. She must have helped me. I’m very happy to find you like this, but now, you know, now I’m also very worried. What’s this about your having a wife? Where’s she gone today?”
“What are you talking about? Don’t be ridiculous. How could I possibly have a wife in this place? And who was the girl who told you that, anyway? Where does she live?”
“I think she said something about her parents being grocers. Well, but who cares, anyway? The important thing is, right now you, well, you hardly even remember me or what went on between us, do you? So you don’t need to hide anything. Come on, who’s the wife that people are talking about?”
“Please. How could I be hiding a wife when I’m this poor? Use your eyes and look around, will you? She’s just a little girl. She doesn’t know anything about me. Well, let’s just leave it at that. So, how are things back in the quarter?”
“At the house? Everything’s just terrible. That head clerk Kihei’s really getting out of control. Ever since the old managers died, he’s been strutting around trying to get everyone to call him ‘Boss.’ It
was bad enough after the old man died and Kihei wanted us to treat him like the manager even while the old woman was still alive. Well, nobody thought he was the manager then, and they’re not about to start thinking it now, either. So he tries to show he’s boss by complaining all the time and giving people orders about one little thing after another. He’s yelling at someone about something practically all the time. You know, ever since you went away to be readopted, I got real worried and started thinking about leaving and getting my contract changed to somewhere else. But Kihei’s got a really twisted personality. I was sure he’d refuse to let me get out of my contract just so he could refuse me, so I’ve just been putting up with it all. But now I know where you are, and, well. . . .” As Yonehachi sat looking around the room, tears began falling onto her lap. “After seeing you like this, how could I possibly stay in that house any longer? I couldn’t even imagine you were in a place like this. When I get back today, I’m going to tell the house I want to work somewhere else. I’ll go outside the quarter completely, down to Futagawa.2 It’ll be hard at first, but after a while I’ll be able to help you out a little so you won’t have to live like this any more.”
Tanjirō could see Yonehachi’s heart was true and her love deep and unchanging. But he felt powerless do anything about the situation and was too depressed to reply.
“Listen,” Yonehachi said. “Tell me about the new family you got yourself adopted into. How come it suddenly went completely bankrupt?”
Early Modern Japanese Literature: An Anthology, 1600–1900 Page 108
