The Party in the Parlour who played Games. A Complete History of All Modern Japanese Art; a Survey of the Past and a Prophecy of the Future, arranged and composed in the Kioto Factories
Oh, brave new world that has such creatures in it,
How beautiful mankind is!
HOW I got to the tea-house I cannot tell. Perhaps a pretty girl waved a bough1 of cherry-blossom at me, and I followed the invitation. I know that I sprawled2 upon the mats and watched the clouds scudding3 across the hills and the logs flying down the rapids, and smelt4 the smell of the raw peeled timber, and listened to the grunts5 of the boatmen as they wrestled6 with that and the rush of the river, and was altogether happier than it is lawful7 for a man to be.
The lady of the tea-house insisted upon screening us off from the other pleasure-parties who were tiffining in the same verandah. She brought beautiful blue screens with storks8 on them and slid them into grooves9. I stood it as long as I could. There were peals10 of laughter in the next compartment11, the pattering of soft feet, the clinking of little dishes, and at the chinks of the screens the twinkle of diamond eyes. A whole family had come in from Kioto for the day’s pleasuring. Mamma looked after grandmamma, and the young aunt looked after a guitar, and the two girls of fourteen and fifteen looked after a merry little tomboy of eight, who, when she thought of it, looked after the baby who had the air of looking after the whole party. Grandmamma was dressed in dark blue, mamma in blue and grey, the girls had gorgeous dresses of lilac, fawn12, and primrose13 crepe with silk sashes, the colour of apple-blossom and the inside of a newly-cut melon; the tomboy was in old gold and russet brown; but the baby tumbled his fat little body across the floor among the dishes in the colours of the Japanese rainbow, which owns no crude tints14. They were all pretty, all except grandmamma, who was merely good-humoured and very bald, and when they had finished their dainty dinner, and the brown lacquer stands, the blue and white crockery, and the jadegreen drinking-cups had been taken away, the aunt played a little piece on the samisen, and the girls played blindman’s-buff all round the tiny room.
Flesh and blood could not have stayed on the other side of the screens. I wanted to play too, but I was too big and too rough, and so could only sit in the verandah, watching these dainty bits of Dresden at their game. They shrieked16 and giggled17 and chattered18 and sat down on the floor with the innocent abandon of maidenhood19, and broke off to pet the baby when he showed signs of being overlooked. They played puss-in-the-corner, their feet tied with blue and white handkerchiefs because the room did not allow unfettered freedom of limb, and when they could play no more for laughing, they fanned themselves as they lay propped20 up against the blue screens,— each girl a picture no painter could reproduce,— and I shrieked with the best of them till I rolled off the verandah and nearly dropped into the laughing street. Was I a fool? Then I fooled in good company; for an austere21 man from India — a person who puts his faith in race-horses and believes nothing except the Civil Code — was also at Arashima that day. I met him flushed and excited.
‘Had a lively time,’ he panted, with a hundred children at his heels. ‘There’s a sort of roulette-table here where you can gamble for cakes. I bought the owner’s stock-in-trade for three dollars and ran the Monte Carlo for the benefit of the kids — about five thousand of ’em. Never had such fun in my life. It beats the Simla lotteries22 hollow. They were perfectly23 orderly till they had cleared the tables of everything except a big sugar-tortoise. Then they rushed the bank, and I ran away.
And he was a hard man who had not played with anything so innocent as sweetmeats for many years!
When we were all weak with laughing, and the Professor’s camera was mixed up m a tangle24 of laughing maidens25 to the confusion of his pictures, we too ran away from the tea-house and wandered down the river bank till we found a boat of sewn planks26 which poled us across the swollen27 river, and landed us on a little rocky path overhanging the water where the iris28 and the violet ran riot together and jubilant waterfalls raced through the undergrowth of pine and maple29. We were at the foot of the Arashima rapids, and all the pretty girls of Kioto were with us looking at the view. Up-stream a lonely black pine stood out from all its fellows to peer up the bend where the racing30 water ran deep in oily swirls31. Downstream the river threshed across the rocks and troubled the fields of fresh logs on its bosom32, while men in blue drove silver-white boats gunwale-deep into the foam33 of its onset34 and hooked the logs away. Underfoot the rich earth of the hillside sent up the breath of the turn of the year to the maples35 that had already caught the message from the fire-winds of April. Oh! it was good to be alive, to trample36 the stalks of the iris, to drag down the cherry-bloom spray in a wash of dew across the face, and to gather the violets for the mere15 pleasure of heaving them into the torrent37 and reaching out for fairer flowers.
‘What a nuisance it is to be a slave to the camera!’ said the Professor, upon whom the dumb influences of the season were working though he knew it not.
‘What a nuisance it is to be a slave to the pen,’ I answered, for the spring had come to the land. I had hated the spring for seven years because to me it meant discomfort38.
‘Let us go straight home and see the flowers come out in the Parks.’
‘Let us enjoy what lies to our hand, you Philistine39.’ And we did till a cloud darkened and a wind ruffled40 the river-reaches, and we returned to our ’rickshaws sighing with contentment.
‘How many people do you suppose the land supports to the square mile?’ said the Professor, at a turn in the homeward road. He had been reading statistics.
‘Nine hundred,’ I said at a venture. ‘It’s thicker set with humans than Sarun or Behar. Say one thousand.’
‘Two thousand two hundred and fifty odd. Can you believe it?’
‘Looking at the landscape I can, but I don’t suppose India will believe it. S’pose I write fifteen hundred?’
‘They’ll say you exaggerate just the same. Better stick to the true total. Two thousand two hundred and fifty-six to the square mile, and not a sign of poverty in the houses. How do they do it?’
I should like to know the answer to that question. Japan of my limited view is inhabited almost entirely42 by little children whose duty is to prevent their elders from becoming too frivolous43. The babies do a little work occasionally, but their parents interfere44 by petting them. At Yami’s hotel the attendance is in the hands of ten-year-olds because everybody else has gone out picnicking among the cherry-trees. The little imps45 find time to do a man’s work and to scuffle on the staircase between whiles. My special servitor, called ‘The Bishop’ on account of the gravity of his appearance, his blue apron46, and garters, is the liveliest of the lot, but even his energy cannot account for the Professor’s statistics of population . . . .
I have seen one sort of work among the Japanese, but it was not the kind that makes crops. It was purely47 artistic48. A ward41 of the city of Kioto is devoted49 to manufactures. A manufacturer in this part of the world does not hang out a sign. He may be known in Paris and New York: that is the concern of the two cities. The Englishman who wishes to find his establishment in Kioto has to hunt for him up and down slums with the aid of a guide. I have seen three manufactories. The first was of porcelain-ware50, the second of cloisonnée, and the third of lacquer, inlay, and bronzes. The first was behind black wooden palings, and for external appearance might just as well have been a tripe-shop. Inside sat the manager opposite a tiny garden, four feet square, in which a papery-looking palm grew out of a coarse stoneware pot and overshadowed a dwarfed51 pine. The rest of the room was filled with pottery52 waiting to be packed — modern Satsuma for the most part, the sort of thing you buy at an auction53.
‘This made send Europe — India — America,’ said the manager calmly. ‘You come to see?’
He took us along a verandah of polished wood to the kilns54, to the clay vats55, and the yards where the tiny ‘saggers’ were awaiting their complement56 of pottery. There are differences many and technical between Japanese and Burslem pottery in the making, but these are of no consequence. In the moulding house, where they were making the bodies of Satsuma vases, the wheels, all worked by hand, ran true as a hair. The potter sat on a clean mat with his tea-things at his side. When he had turned out a vase-body he saw that it was good, nodded appreciatively to himself, and poured out some tea ere starting the next one. The patters lived close to the kilns and had nothing pretty to look at. It was different in the painting rooms. Here in a cabinet-like house sat the men, women, and boys who painted the designs on the vases after the first firing. That all their arrangements were scrupulously58 neat is only saying that they were Japanese; that their surroundings were fair and proper is only saying that they were artists, A sprig of a cherry-blossom stood out defiantly59 against the black of the garden paling; a gnarled pine cut the blue of the sky with its spiky60 splinters as it lifted itself above the paling, and in a little pond the iris and the horsetail nodded to the wind. The workers when at fault had only to lift their eyes, and Nature herself would graciously supply the missing link of a design. Somewhere in dirty England men dream of craftsmen61 working under conditions which shall help and not stifle62 the half-formed thought. They even form guilds63 and write semi-rhythmical prayers to Time and Chance and all the other gods that they worship, to bring about the desired end. Would they have their dream realised, let them see how they make pottery in Japan, each man sitting on a snowy mat with loveliness of line and colour within arm’s length of him, while with downcast eyes he — splashes in the conventional diaper of a Satsuma vase as fast as he can! The Barbarians64 want Satsuma and they shall have it, if it has to be made in Kioto one piece per twenty minutes. So much for the baser forms of the craft.
The owner of the second establishment lived in a blackwood cabinet — it was profanation65 to call it a house — alone with a bronze of priceless workmanship, a set of blackwood furniture, and all the medals that his work had won for him in England, France, Germany, and America. He was a very quiet and cat-like man, and spoke66 almost in a whisper. Would we be pleased to inspect the manufactory? He led us through a garden — it was nothing in his eyes, but we stopped to admire long. Stone lanterns, green with moss67, peeped through clumps68 of papery bamboos where bronze storks were pretending to feed. A dwarfed pine, its foliage69 trimmed to dish-like plaques70, threw its arms far across a fairy pond where the fat, lazy carp grubbed and rooted, and a couple of eared grebes squawked at us from the protection of the — water-butt. So perfect was the silence of the place that we heard the cherry-blossoms falling into the water and the lisping of the fish against the stores. We were in the very heart of the Willow-Pattern Plate and loath71 to move for fear of breaking it. The Japanese are born bower-birds. They collect water-worn stones, quaintly-shaped rocks, and veined pebbles72 for the ornamentation of their homes. When they shift house they lift the garden away with them — pine trees and all — and the incoming tenant73 has a free hand.
Half a dozen steps took us over the path of mossy stones to a house where the whole manufactory was at work. One room held the enamel74 powders all neatly75 arranged in jars of scrupulous57 cleanliness, a few blank copper76 vases ready to be operated on, an invisible bird who whistled and whooped77 in his cage, and a case of gaily78 painted butterflies ready for reference when patterns were wanted. In the next room sat the manufactory — three men, five women, and two boys — all as silent as sleep. It is one thing to read of cloisonnée making, but quite another to watch it being made. I began to understand the cost of the ware when I saw a man working out a pattern of sprigs and butterflies on a plate about ten inches in diameter. With finest silver ribbon wire, set on edge, less than the sixteenth of an inch high, he followed the curves of the drawing at his side, pinching the wire into tendrils and the serrated outlines of leaves with infinite patience. A rough touch on the raw copper-plate would have sent the pattern flying into a thousand disconnected threads. When all was put down on the copper, the plate would be warmed just sufficiently79 to allow the wires to stick firmly to the copper, the pattern then showing in raised lines. Followed the colouring, which was done by little boys in spectacles. With a pair of tiniest steel chopsticks they filled from bowls at their sides each compartment of the pattern with its proper hue80 of paste. There is not much room allowed for error in filling the spots on a butterfly’s wing with avanturine enamel when the said wings are less than an inch across. I watched the delicate play of wrist and hand till I was wearied, and the manager showed me his patterns — terrible dragons, clustered chrysanthemums81, butterflies, and diapers as fine as frost on a window-pane — all drawn82 in unerring line. ‘Those things are our subjects. I compile from them, and when I want some new colours I go and look at those dead butterflies,’ said he. After the enamel has been filled in, the pot or plate goes to be fired, and the enamel bubbles all over the boundary lines of wires, and the whole comes from the furnace looking like delicate majolica. It may take a month to put a pattern on the plate in outline, another month to fill in the enamel, but the real expenditure83 of time does not commence till the polishing. A man sits down with the rough article, all his tea-things, a tub of water, a flannel84, and two or three saucers full of assorted85 pebbles from the brook86. He does not get a wheel with tripoli, or emery, or buff. He sits down and rubs. He rubs for a month, three months, or a year. He rubs lovingly, with his soul in his finger-ends, and little by little the efflorescence of the fired enamel gives way, and he comes down to the lines of silver, and the pattern in all its glory is there waiting for him. I saw a man who had only been a month over the polishing of one little vase five inches high. He would go on for two months. When I am in America he will be rubbing still, and the ruby-coloured dragon that romped87 on a field of lazuli, each tiny scale and whisker a separate compartment of enamel, will be growing more lovely.
‘There is also cheap cloisonnée to be bought,’ said the manager, with a smile. ‘We cannot make that. The vase will be seventy dollars.’
I respected him for saying ‘cannot’ instead of ‘do not.’ There spoke the artist.
Our last visit was paid to the largest establishment in Kioto, where boys made gold inlay on iron, sitting in camphor-wood verandahs overlooking a garden lovelier than any that had gone before. They had been caught young, even as is the custom in. India. A real grown-up man was employed on the horrible story, in iron, gold, and silver, of two priests who waked up a Rain-dragon and had to run for it, all round the edge of a big shield; but the liveliest worker of the batch88 was a small fat baby who had been given a tenpenny nail, a hammer, and a block of metal to play with, that he might soak in the art by which he would live, through the pores of his skin. He crowed and chuckled89 as he whacked90. There are not many five-year-olds in England who could hammer anything without pulping91 their little pink fingers. The baby had learned how to hit straight. On the wall of the room hung a Japanese painting of the Apotheosis92 of Art. It represented with fidelity93 all the processes of pottery from the digging of the clay to the last firing. But all the pencilled scorn of the artist was reserved for the closing scene, where an Englishman, his arm round his wife’s waist, was inspecting a shop full of curios. The Japanese are not impressed with the grace of our clothing or the beauty of our countenances94. Later we beheld95 the manufacture of gold lacquer, which is laid on speck96 by speck from an agate97 palette fitted on the artist’s thumb; and the carving98 of ivory, which is exciting until you begin to realise that the graver never slips.
‘A lot of their art is purely mechanical,’ said the Professor, when he was safe back in the hotel.
‘So’s a lot of ours —’specially our pictures. Only we can’t be spiritedly mechanical,’ I answered. ‘Fancy a people like the Japanese solemnly going in for a constitution! Observe. The only two nations with constitution worth having are the English and the Americans. The English can only be artistic in spots and by way of the art of other nations — Sicilian tapestries99, Persian saddlebags, Khoten carpets, and the sweepings100 of pawnbrokers’ shops. The Americans are artistic so long as a few of ’em can buy their Art to keep abreast101 of the times with. Spain is artistic, but she is also disturbed at intervals102; France is artistic, but she must have her revolution every twenty years for the sake of fresh material; Russia is artistic, but she occasionally wishes to kill her Czar, and has no sort of Government; Germany is not artistic, because she experienced religion; and Italy is artistic, because she did very badly. India ——’
‘When you have finished your verdict on the world, perhaps you’ll go to bed.’
‘Consequently,’ I continued, with scorn, ‘I am of opinion that a constitution is the worst thing in the world for a people who are blessed with souls above the average. Now the first demand of the artistic temperament103 is mundane104 uncertainty105. The second is ——’
‘Sleep,’ said the Professor, and left the room.
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bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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scudding
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| n.刮面v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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storks
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| n.鹳( stork的名词复数 ) | |
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grooves
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| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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peals
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| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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fawn
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| n.未满周岁的小鹿；v.巴结，奉承 | |
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primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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maidenhood
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| n. 处女性, 处女时代 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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lotteries
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| n.抽彩给奖法( lottery的名词复数 )；碰运气的事；彩票；彩券 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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swirls
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| n.旋转( swirl的名词复数 )；卷状物；漩涡；尘旋v.旋转，打旋( swirl的第三人称单数 ) | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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trample
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| vt.踩，践踏；无视，伤害，侵犯 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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philistine
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| n.庸俗的人；adj.市侩的，庸俗的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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imps
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| n.（故事中的）小恶魔( imp的名词复数 )；小魔鬼；小淘气；顽童 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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dwarfed
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| vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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pottery
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| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
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auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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kilns
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| n.窑( kiln的名词复数 )；烧窑工人 | |
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vats
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| varieties 变化，多样性，种类 | |
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complement
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| n.补足物，船上的定员；补语；vt.补充，补足 | |
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scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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scrupulously
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| adv.一丝不苟地；小心翼翼地，多顾虑地 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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spiky
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| adj.长而尖的，大钉似的 | |
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61
craftsmen
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| n. 技工 | |
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stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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guilds
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| 行会，同业公会，协会( guild的名词复数 ) | |
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barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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profanation
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| n.亵渎 | |
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66
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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plaques
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| （纪念性的）匾牌( plaque的名词复数 )； 纪念匾； 牙斑； 空斑 | |
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loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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73
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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whooped
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| 叫喊( whoop的过去式和过去分词 )； 高声说； 唤起 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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chrysanthemums
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| n.菊花( chrysanthemum的名词复数 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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romped
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| v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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whacked
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| a.精疲力尽的 | |
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pulping
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| 水果的肉质部分( pulp的现在分词 )； 果肉； 纸浆； 低级书刊 | |
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apotheosis
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| n.神圣之理想；美化；颂扬 | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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agate
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| n.玛瑙 | |
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98
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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99
tapestries
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| n.挂毯( tapestry的名词复数 )；绣帷，织锦v.用挂毯（或绣帷）装饰( tapestry的第三人称单数 ) | |
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100
sweepings
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| n.笼统的( sweeping的名词复数 )；（在投票等中的）大胜；影响广泛的；包罗万象的 | |
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101
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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102
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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103
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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104
mundane
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| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
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105
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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