This Scheming World

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by Ihara Saikaku


  So he brought his wife back home, and they celebrated the arrival of the New Year, in tears-but together!

  EVEN GODS MAKE MISTAKES SOMETIMES

  ANNUALLY in October all the gods from each province in Japan meet at the Grand Shrine of lzumo to discuss the peace and welfare of the people. At that time also the year gods are assigned to their appointed places to speed preparations for the coming New Year. The foremost in virtue, to be sure, are chosen to look after Kyoto, Edo, and Osaka. Veteran gods are likewise assigned to Nara and Sakai; while appropriate gods are designated for Nagasaki, Otsu, and Fushimi. Other suitable gods are selected for appointment to castle towns where feudal lords reside, to seaports, and to the chief inland towns and mountain villages. It is the task of the gods, besides, to see that the New Year comes to even the lowliest who live in the most distant isles or the poorest huts: to each and everyone, in fact, who makes up ricecakes and sets out pine branches before his doorway.

  Now so far as preference goes, the gods themselves would much rather be the year gods of urban districts, for they dislike having to preside over the New Year festivities in rural areas. In any case, when a choice is given between town and country, it goes without saying that in every respect the former is preferable.

  Time flows by as swiftly as the current of a stream, and all too soon comes the last day of December. Here in the city of Sakai people are careful of their fortunes, always figuring out ways to protect them. Everyone puts on an appearance of living more simply than he actually does. From the outside his house is latticed in front. like that of a retired merchant, but inside it is wide and spacious.

  He never fails to estimate his annual income, and to live within it.

  Suppose a man has a daughter. After she is over the smallpox, he gauges how beautiful or ugly she is, and if he thinks that she might blossom into a woman of passable beauty, even though she is but four or five years old, he will start accumulating her trousseau, piece by piece and year after year. If the daughter happens to be plain in appearance, he knows that no young man will marry her without a dowry. Therefore he loans out money on interest, or he takes up some sideline, in order to earn some extra money against the time of her marriage. This shows the sort of perspicacious fellow he is.

  As a result of his foresightedness, room after room is added to his house, and before the roof becomes too old he has it reshingled. He also reinforces the beams with stone foundations before they rot away. He likewise keeps an eye on the copper gutters, and several years before he is forced to repair them, he begins a wary watch on the ups and downs of the copper market, and when the price of copper is at the bottom he has his gutters repaired. The hand-woven suit of pongee that he wears every day will not become threadbare because he never moves about hastily. His clothes, therefore, give him the appearance of a gentleman, and yet at the same time they are quite economical. He is possessed of many household things that have been handed down from one generation to the next; so when he sets out to give a year end tea, publicly he gives the impression of living a life of luxury, yet actually it doesn’t cost him very much. Such are the practices of one who has managed to live in the world for a good many years.

  If even rich men must practice economy, how much more essential is it for those who are not very rich. Instead of sleeping on a pillow at night he ought to rest his head on an abacus, aware even in his sleep that the approaching year end may either make him or break him. If he would like to view red maple leaves in the fall, he ought to make good use of his imagination which will enable him to see them in the cheap red rice he pounds in his hand mortar. Instead of himself eating red porgy at cherry-blossom time, he might be better advised to send it to Kyoto, where the demand for it is so great. Nay, he ought never to buy even a river carp, giving as an excuse that it smells of mud, except, of course, when he has a guest to entertain. Kyoto is surrounded by mountains, yet the people who live there eat bonito; while the people who live near the sea are content to eat smaller fish. As the proverb goes, “It is darkest at the foot of the lighthouse.”

  One fact of life is that things are not always what they seem to be. One New Year’s Eve, the assigned year god entered the home of a certain prosperous-looking merchant unannounced, to receive honors in celebration of the New Year, for such is the prerogative of all the year gods. In this house the New Year shelf was prepared, but there was no offertory light burning on it. There was an ominous and deserted air about the place. Nevertheless, since it was the house of his choice, and moreover, as it was inadvisable to share the entertainment with another god,’ which would be more than likely if he moved to another house, he remained where he was, rather curious to see just how the master would celebrate the New Year.

  Now every time the -door was opened, he could hear the mistress timidly repeating the same apology that her husband had not yet come home and that she was sorry the caller had come in vain so often. In the meantime midnight came and went and the dawn drew near. But still the bill collectors continued to arrive at the house one after another and began to bellow: “How soon will the master be back?” Whereupon the clerk came rushing up out of breath and reported thus: “As we were hurrying along about midway to Sukematsu, several rogues of towering height suddenly fell upon us and carried the master off into a pine grove, and began to threaten him to choose between his money and his life. I barely managed to escape from them.”

  “You, coward!” the mistress exclaimed, appearing to be greatly astonished. “Shame upon your manhood for forsaking your master in his hour of peril when his life was at stake.,Seeing her dissolved in tears, the bill collectors left the place one by one. By and by the sky began to grow brighter. When the last bill collector had disappeared, the sadness of the mistress, strangely enough, appeared to do the same. Then the clerk took out a bag of money and said to her, “ The country people are pinched for money too; I was able to collect only thirty-five momme of silver and six hundred momme of copper.” This clerk, employed in an artful and contriving household, was himself no slouch when it came to money matters.

  All the while, the master had been lying well hidden in a corner of a back room, reading the same novel over and over again. It was the tale of a poor ronin who lived at Fuwa, in Mino Province. Finding it impossible to tide over the year end, he had in desperation stabbed his wife and his child to death and finally himself. This being a particularly pathetic story, it had a strong appeal for the master, because he saw himself in a similar plight.

  “Well, he had every reason for his desperate deed,” he said to himself, and fell to weeping in secret.

  But when at last he was informed that all the bill collectors had given up the pursuit and gone off, he recovered his composure sufficiently to emerge timidly from his place of concealment. Complaining with a sigh that he had aged several years during the ordeal of that single night, and vainly regretting his past carelessness, he went about the task of buying rice and fuel at a time when everyone else was eating zoni and celebrating the season.

  On New Year’s Day he and his family ate ordinary rice, and it was not until the morning of the second day that they could prepare zoni to serve to the god and the Buddha. “For some ten years,” he said apologetically, “it has been our family custom to celebrate the New Year on the second day. Please forgive us for using such an old tray in serving you.” More than that: no service was held in the evening. The year god had never dreamed that the master of this house was so poor. No sooner had the first three days of the New Year gone by, than he left the house and visited Ebisu’s Shrine at Imamiya, to report to him what miserable entertainment he had received at the poor man’s house, a house which so utterly belied its showy external appearance.

  “It was rather stupid of you, a veteran year god, not to have known better,” remarked Ebisu to him. “Before you call at a house you should investigate the financial status of the master. Never enter a house whose doorway is dirty, no
r whose mat borders are frayed, nor where the mistress has to please the maid. Although Sakai is a large city, the number of poor fellows such as the one you have told me of is really only four or five at the most. It was unlucky of you to have happened to visit one of these few. I have plenty of sake and porgy here that merchants from all the provinces have dedicated to me; so stay and eat and drink before you return to Izumo. It will take away the aftertaste of your coarse fare.” So Ebisu entertained the poor year god with food and drink and let him stay awhile with him.

  The foregoing story became known to mortals only because a man who visited the shrine early in the morning of Ebisu’s Day happened to hear the gods talking together in the inner sanctuary. It all goes to show that even in the society of the gods there are distinctions between rich and poor. Such being the case, how natural it is that human fortunes should be so disparate. It behooves you, therefore, to busy yourself with your regular occupation, working with all diligence, in order that the year god, who comes to you but once a year, may suffer no discomfort or inconvenience.

  THE NIGHT OF INSULTS

  EACH locality has its own peculiar customs. In the Kanto districts there are some villages in which the festival for the god is observed on New Year’s Eve. Likewise on that day, in the province of Settsu, patrons of Nishinomiya Shrine have a custom of staying at home all day long; while in the province of Buzen at Hayatomo on the same day they hold a divine service of seaweed gathering. In the secluded village of Tamba weddings are customarily held on New Year’s Eve.

  The mass for the dead used to be held on New Year’s Eve, so that while people busied themselves with preparations for the New Year, they had at the same time to arrange incense and flowers honoring the dead. They prepared offerings on the one hand to the year god and on the other to their ancestors. To reduce the burden of their business, some wise men of those days, without serving any advance notice on Paradise, changed the mass day to July 14th. Wise men today would prefer to hold the mass during the spring or fall equinoctial season, which would prove to be an inestimable economical boon to uncounted future generations.

  The festival day of the Ikutama Shrine in Osaka is set for the ninth of September. Fortunately this also happens to be the very day on which each household prepares a meal of vinegared and broiled fish. Since the celebration is the same in each household, there is no danger that guests will drop in unannounced. Just figure the savings for this one occasion alone and you will discover that it mounts up to an enormous total. In this case it appears that it was out of consideration for his patrons’ purses that the god fixed this day to celebrate.

  Every New Year’s Eve in Kyoto at Gion, a divine service of half-shaven sticks is observed. First the sacred lights are dimmed until the faces of visitors are unrecognizable in the darkness. Next they divide the company into two groups, who then proceed to exchange insults, each side heaping as gross abuses as possible upon the other, much to the merriment of all the participants. For example:

  “On one of the first three days of the New Year a rice cake will stick in your throat, and you’ll be cremated at Toribeno.”

  “You are a partner in crime with a slave trader: both of you’ll ride bareback to Awataguchi for your execution.”

  “On New Year’s Day your wife will go crazy and throw your baby down the well.”

  “Messengers of Hell will carry you off in their fiery cart and eat you up.”

  “Your father was a town watchman.”

  “Your mother used to be the concubine of a Buddhist priest.”

  “Your sister will go out to buy bean paste without wearing her panties and tumble head over heels in the street.”

  Thus do they glibly fling foul words at one another, there being no limit to the catalog of abuses.

  Now one of the outstanding participants in such a battle of abuse was a young man about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old whose insults surpassed in foulness and glibness all the rest. One opponent after another went down before his filthy charges, until before long none would dare to challenge him. Just then there cut through the darkness from under a pine tree to the left a voice which called out: “Hey! big boy, you talk just like you had a new outfit of clothes for the New Year. What have you got on under that kimono? On a cold night like this I bet it isn’t even padded!”

  It was a random shot, but it struck home. The fellow was so sorely hit in a sensitive spot that he could answer not a word, but immediately lost himself in the crowd, amidst general laughter. It seems apparent from such an incident as this that nothing hurts like the truth. Anyhow, while it is still light, you’d better start making preparations for the dark of New Year’s Eve, for as the proverb runs, “Poverty is a stranger to diligence.”

  One evening several people were walking along Sanjo Street, none too cheerfully talking together: “Where in the world has all the gold and silver gone that’s flown from this flowery city?” asked one. “I wonder if the devils carried it off with them when they were chased out at bean-throwing time? It seems to me that I’ve been on especially bad terms with money these past few years: I haven’t seen any lying about in boxes recently!”

  Just as he made this last remark they saw passing by them three carts loaded with chests of money, guarded by six men, each of whom bore a lantern marked with the household crest of a chevron and three stars. Behind them walked two men who appeared to be clerks, who were talking in some such terms as the following:

  “They say money’s short in this world, but there’s plenty of it where you find it. This consignment of money on these carts is what our old master has set aside as pocket money for his aged mother. It was first deposited in the strong room in the first year of Myoreki in the month of April, and it’s making its appearance today for the first time since then: it’s out for an airing after the gloom of its long imprisonment. This money reminds me of a girl who was made a nun at birth: it has never been caressed by a man nor enjoyed a good time; furthermore, it’s destined to go to the temple in the end.”

  Splitting their sides with laughter over their own joke, the men went on talking: “Today as I was taking this money out of storage, I happened to look across into the strong room of the house annex just opposite. There were stacks and stacks of money chests with labels on them dating back to the Kan-ei era. It’s a marvel how such enormous wealth could ever have been accumulated in a single generation. Generally speaking, before all else rich men of this world are misers. Anyhow, it’s practically impossible to become rich without acquiring some kind of bad name. Our master, on the contrary, is in every way as generous and liberal as a born lord. Although he has lived in the lap of luxury all his life, he is still just as rich as he ever was. He seems to be the very embodiment of good fortune.

  “Up until now he was content to enjoy retirement in the home of his eldest son, but now that his second son has a house of his own he has changed his mind and prefers to live with him. Since in this family the old man’s will is law, beginning last November they began moving his things, and these money chests are the last load to be moved. Eleven maids were dispatched from the main house of the eldest son to wait on the old man. At the same time, seven cats moved along with him carried in a palanquin, just like so many human beings.

  “On the 21st of this month, as is his custom, the master made presents of new clothes to his employees: forty-eight suits of clothes for the men, fifty-one for the women, and twenty-seven for small and middle-sized boys and girls a grand total of one hundred and twenty-six. They were all ordered from the Sasaya, and without exception every single employee was given an outfit. Think of what they must have cost: enough money to set a man up in business

  ‘’As for the young master, yesterday when a theater owner came to pay his respects and in the course of conversation complained that he’d be unable to present this year’s first theatrical performance for lack of funds, the master loaned him fi
ve hundred ryo of gold on the spot.

  ”Never since we entered service in this household have we at any time seen our master or his brother so much as touch money with their own hands. Of course, they have no idea how rich they actually are, for they leave all such business details to their head clerks, nine in number.”

  Conversing in this fashion, the two men now entered the grounds of an imposing-looking house, and after announcing that the retired master’s money had arrived, they stored it in the strong room.

  The year man of this household, after seeing to it that at each appropriate corner of the house a sacred candle had been lit, started to do the same for each strongroom. The master seeing it, laughed and said, “What a green year man we have here! For the owner of a mere thousand kan or so to burn candles at the corners of his strongroom might be quite appropriate. But if we started doing that here, we would have to light twenty-five or twenty-six candles. Does he need to light so many?”

  The poor fellows who had followed along behind the procession of carts to the house were standing by envying its wealthy appearance. They continued to watch as the money chests were carried into the house one after another and stacked on the floor. The men accompanying the consignment of money, who seemed to be clerks of an exchange shop, begged the head clerk of the wealthy household to store the money away safely in one of the strong rooms. They tried their best to persuade him, pleading on their knees. But the head clerk resolutely refused to take it in, reminding them:

  “Every year we have been telling you people, and by now you ought to be well aware of it, that on New

  Year’s Eve we will not take money in from any source after four o’clock. It’s a nuisance to have to bother with such a small sum of money, and that so late at night.”

  After a thousand apologies, however, and extensive flattery, the messengers finally succeeded in persuading the clerk to accept it. Turning over to him the three chests of money containing the sum total of six hundred and seventy kan, they received the receipt for it with virtually unbounded gratitude and at last went home.

 

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