Part 15

'Imagine a Japanese going to America, for example, and writing back something like this: "America is a queer country. The people clothe themselves with the hair and skins of animals. They fasten their clothing on by means of little knobs hung in holes; the women go about with the arms and upper part of the body nude. Owing to the peculiar make of their shoes, they all walk on tiptoe. The people eat dead pigs, and drink a white, thick fluid called chichi, which they squeeze out of the body of a large animal. When eating they stick long iron instruments in their mouths. When moving about they are obliged constantly to set one foot out in front in order to keep from falling on their noses. Sometimes when there is a company of them together they open their mouths very wide at each other, utter loud, inarticulate cries, and jump about in a very curious manner, shaking from head to foot."

'Now what would the Japanese people think of such a story, and what kind of impression would they get of the American people? But this is a fair specimen of the style in which many have written about this country. We cannot quite speak of it as lying, yet it amounts to the same in that it deceives and makes a false impression. The people of Japan are much the same as the world at large.

'And finally, what is true of the customs of Japan is also true of the Japanese language. A Westerner, for instance, will poke fun at the expression, "For the first time, I hang upon your honourable eyes," and perhaps with the next breath say, "I knew him as soon as I laid eyes on him." Literally speaking it is hard to tell which is the more "okashii" (ridiculous), to hang upon the honourable eyes of another, or to lay your eyes on somebody else. Or which is worse, to "stick" to the end of the street in going to your business, or to "stick to it" when you get there? All languages must be explained and understood in the light of their idiomatic use and meaning, otherwise they become idiotic, and in this the Japanese language is no exception.

'There is one point in that letter to which I must take exception, as is remarked in the editorial notes, too, but otherwise I quite concur with the writer. The matter I refer to is that of the kites. On that point neither the writer of the original article nor the writer of the letter hit the mark. As a general rule, of course, kites or tops are played with by children as in the West, but there is one particular method of flying special kites which is indulged in by grown-up men. It is done in Nagasaki. The kites are made in a particular shape so that a slight pull or loosening of the line makes a rapid movement, and if one pulls when the kite is not in the right position it falls to the ground with lightning-like rapidity. It requires great skill to manage, and therefore cannot be done by mere boys. Those kites are well known by the name of Nagasaki kites. In that town people fly them in a certain season of the year, making the kites fight one against the other high up in the air. The method is as follows: A certain portion of the line is gummed over with a mixture containing fine particles of glass, so that it would cut another line which might come in contact with it. A skilful flier manages his kite in such a way that his line will cut the line of others without hurting his own, and, therefore, during the competition all the kites are making rapid movements to and fro high up in the air. In recent years Nagasaki men, a large number of whom are residents in Tokio, have instituted a display of kite-flying of their method. The performance takes place on a certain day in spring in a suburban park of the capital.

'But to return to the subject of the pastimes of the Japanese gentry in general. Some are fond of handling Kakemono. Some are fond of collecting old curios. There are, therefore, a far greater number of curiosity shops in Japan than in any other country. Some are fond of performing orthodox tea ceremonies, but by far the greater number are fond of playing at the game of "go," and "Japanese chess."'

--'What are they like?'

'"Go" is a game which you have not in the West. Our chess is different from yours, but the principle is similar. With us "go" is considered more refined than chess, and in consequence "go" is more generally played by the upper classes, and chess by the lower classes. In such games, ours seem to be more scientific and complicated than those in the West. I do not like to appear to boast of our own "things," but my conviction, founded on fact, enforces me to tell the truth.

'I will begin with "chess." In all parts of the world the game of chess exists in some form or other. They must have descended from a common origin: we profess to have derived our game from China. It seems there have been several kinds of chess in China. In Japan also there were three kinds in earlier days--the great, the middle, and the ordinary. The last is the one which has survived and has become a national game. Many improvements have been made since its introduction into Japan, so that it now differs considerably from that of China. We all know of improvements which have been made on the Western guns and rifles, because they belong to our own day: but we do not know when and by whom the improvements in chess were made. It is said, until some hundred years ago, there was an extra piece on either side called the "drunken elephant," having almost omnipotent power--I suppose something like your "queen." The experts of that time agreed that the problems of the game would become much more interesting without that particular piece, because its omnipotency overshadowed the action of other figures, and it was accordingly abolished by Imperial sanction. We consider our game more scientific and complicated than any other of the kind. A single fact will go far to demonstrate my assertion. Bring together at random a number of ordinary Japanese chess players and the same number of ordinary European players. Let the movements of the "men" of the European chess be shown to the Japanese, and let the Europeans and the Japanese play the European chess, you may be sure that after the second game, the Japanese will be on the winning side. When I was staying at Munich over twenty years ago, I learned the European moves from a lad living in the next flat; after the second game I won continually, and the lad gave up in despair. Mind, I am not at all a good player as I play rarely, and, when I do play, I prefer to play "go." On the way to Europe last year, I played European chess on board the mail steamer, learning again the movements of the figures, which I had not practised since my Munich days. After one or two games, I became one of the best players among the passengers. This was not the case with me only, for there were several other Japanese on board, and they also became excellent players. The same is the experience of all the Japanese travellers.'

--'What is the reason of that?' asked one of those present.

--'Because ours is much more complicated than yours. The only danger we have to watch against when we play your game is to be caught in an unguarded moment by a movement which is foreign to us. I mean, for instance, your knights move sidewards or backwards, and we are often caught by it, because our knights move only forwards.'

--'But what do you mean by saying, your chess being more complicated?' asked another.

--'I will only outline the reason, for it is impossible to demonstrate it in the short space of a _Summer Dream_.'

--'What!'

--'Well, I mean to say that it would take a long time were I to describe it in detail, but listen: In the first place, the squares of our boards are nine by nine, therefore there are seventeen more squares than yours: the number of our men are twenty in all on each side, two rows of nine each, and two extra, and, therefore, four more men than yours on each side. Then, again, in your game, when you take one of your opponent's pieces, you put it aside and never make any use of it except under one particular circumstance, which I need not describe. With ours, however, either side of the players can make use of any of the captured pieces of his opponent and add them to his own men, at any time and place, and under any circumstance, provided that he brings them on to the board, one at a time, in his turn of move.'

--'But how can you make any distinction between your own men and those of your opponent, if you put down the opponent's men as your own?' said another.

'Well, we have no difference of colour between friends and foes and our men are made flat _ab initio_, and are laid on the squares with their heads turned towards the enemy, so that one can easily distinguish friends from foes by the position in which they are placed.'

--'How can you turn the head towards the enemy?' asked one.

--'By the head, I do not mean the head and tail you use when tossing. Our men are made in such a way that one of the four sides has a projected part; and that side is the head. In other words, the head does not mean the flat surface, but rather one of the sides of a flat object. Call it the top, if you prefer.'

--'I see,' said one.

--'The methods of making use of the captured men makes the whole play much more intricate. As a rule, of course, if you take a man of your opponent, possessing greater power, it is better than taking one possessing less power, but this does not always follow, because according to the vicissitudes of the game a man which has less power may be utilised for some particular purpose to greater advantage than one of greater power. This is the point in which our chess has far more interest than yours. Then, again, in your chess one does not seek so much to take a man of one's opponent as one does in our chess, because with yours mere exchange of men is to be avoided as it does not affect the relative force of either side, but with ours one often plays in such a way as to capture a piece or two, even more, even though he loses similar or identical men of his own, in the same process, because by the cleverer use of the captured men a better issue can often be obtained. Another peculiarity of our game is that, when a piece gets into the third row, or beyond, of the squares on the opponent's side, the player has the option of changing its power in certain ways. This is another source of interest. But remember, this method differs from one which is employed in your chess when a pawn gets into the last row of the squares on the opponent's side. As a consequence of all this, you can easily see that there cannot be such a result as a drawn game in our chess.'

--'Can you describe the kind of men and the moves of your chess?' asked one.

--'Oh, that would take too much time; but I will tell you an incident connected with it. After a dinner party in England, I had some talk on the subject with a bishop, who happened to be present. He asked me what our "castles" (_tours_) were like. I answered we had no castle, because we did not believe a castle could move about on land. We call our corresponding figures "light chariots," or, more commonly, "lances." He next asked me what our queen was like. I answered, we have no queen, because we do not believe in the advisability of making a queen work hard, not only harder than the king, but than all other subjects. You may call it "keeping a woman in seclusion," but we think it respect and consideration for the fair sex not to expose them to such a task as fighting. We have two generals, between whom the power of your queen is divided. One is called "diagonal dasher," and the other "flying chariot." He then asked me what our bishops were like. I answered, we have no bishop, because we do not consider it good taste to make a venerable bishop fight a sanguinary battle, besides, the same moves with which your "bishops" are empowered are bestowed on our "diagonal dasher."'

--'You fabricate the story,' said one.

--'Not at all,' I answered. 'It was a true and genuine incident. In fact, I do not think the names of most of your "men" very commendable.'

--'Well, then, what are your names, and how do you arrange the position of the men at the commencement?' said another.

--'We place the king in the centre of the last row. We can do so because our squares are nine and not eight, as yours. On each side of the king we have the gold general, silver general, knight, and lancer respectively. On the second square of the second row from the left we have the diagonal dasher; and in the second square from the right in the same row we have the flying chariot. The third row is allotted to the pawns, which we call foot-soldiers,--the same signification as yours. Thus you can see the starting position is entirely identical on both sides, which is not the case with yours, because your squares being eight, you cannot place the king in the very centre of the row.'

--'But how do you manage when a weaker hand plays with a stronger hand?' interposed another.

--'Well, in that case, the stronger hand takes off one or more men from the board at the beginning, just as you do, and thus equalises the relative strength.'

--'What is "go"?'

--'It is a game which you have not, and, therefore, it is rather difficult to describe, and it would not interest you much, if I described it, because I could make no comparison. When I was in England before, now many years ago, some people played a childish game called "go-bang." The board and the pieces used are the same as our "go," though those I have seen in Europe are very simple and cheaply made. In Japan they are rather expensive. The materials both of the board and pieces are generally choice kinds of wood, and rare black stone and shells, which make them expensive,--in fact, some people regard them as an ornament for the room. The game, which is the same as your "go-bang," is also played by the name of "gomoku narabe," that is, placing five pieces in a row. We call the board for "go" "go-ban," which literally means the board for "go," and from that I conclude that your game of "go-bang" came from Japan, only you have misapplied the appellation of the board to the game. In Japan, it goes without saying, that game is only fit for boys and girls, though occasionally some people show, even in that game, great scientific skill. Unlike chess, the pieces of "go" are placed on the top of the cross, and the end of the lines which mark the board into squares. There are nineteen by nineteen of such spots, and, therefore, there are three hundred and sixty-one black and white pieces altogether, though in practice, the more skilful the players the less the actual number of pieces used. From the simple fact of the pieces being white and black, and having no difference of value, casual observers might think the game of "go" does not possess so much interest and variation as chess, but according to the opinion generally accepted, there is much more in "go" than in "chess," though some who are more partial to chess profess that there is a little more in chess than in "go." At all events, there are more people who understand chess than "go," because the latter is more difficult to learn. "Go" has also been introduced to us from China in the earlier days of intercourse, more than ten centuries ago, but no one knows the exact history of its introduction. In Japan the game has undergone many changes. It is known that the board used in China in ancient times contained a less number of squares, but I am not sure if it had already the present number when first introduced into Japan. It seems the present number of the squares is most productive of all sorts of problems. In ancient times in China, the black pieces were offered to the person who held a better social position than the other, or to the stronger hand in case of a match between those of equal position. This was so in the earlier stage of the game in Japan, but later the white pieces came to be used uniformly by the better player. The methods of starting, and the rules for equalising the relative strength of the players at the beginning, and for counting, have all undergone improvements. For three centuries there existed an academy for "go," and also for "chess," under the superintendence of the best players of the empire, who received certain annuities and personal distinction from the central government in order to maintain the interest in the games. Indeed, diplomas of different degrees were given to champions, according to their deserts. The ceremony of the competition by the best players was annually performed in the castle of the Shogun. From this you can well imagine that we have had better players in those games than in the country whence they were originally derived. Great geniuses were occasionally produced. Since the inauguration of the present Government, these institutions have disappeared (though they still exist as private institutions), and the positions of the best players, whatever their genius, are no longer lucrative nor distinguished. I am not, therefore, sure if we can keep up our former standard of skill. In all the games I have seen and heard of, there is none which has so many degrees of skill as the game of "go."'

--'Are there no more games of a similar nature?'

--'There are several more, but mostly childish, and played by young girls or children at certain seasons of the year, such as "poem cards."'

--'What is that?'

'The Japanese name for "poem cards" is _Uta-Karuta_. Strangely enough, the term "Karuta" is not Japanese. It is of European derivation, being the same as the word "Carta" (card in modern English). There had existed poem shells before poem cards came into use. One half of a short poem was written inside one half of a shell, and the other half of the poem inside the other half, there being usually one hundred shells with different poems written in them. The game was to find the one half of the shell which belonged to the other. The shells were often richly decorated, as one may see from the remnants of old ones. A little more than three hundred years ago, when the Island of Hirado was the trading port for Dutch and English vessels, the European traders brought with them their cards with which they were in the habit of playing. The Japanese who happened to see them seem to have thought that the shape of those cards had some novelty and were more simple than their shells. They, therefore, substituted cards for shells, and hence the original name "Carta" came to be used by us. I will now explain the game of "poem cards"; it is played at the time of the New Year, generally by young girls. There are two sets of cards. One half of short poems is written each separately on one set, and the other half is written in the same manner on the other set as at poem shells. One set is either thrown in the middle of the players or dealt out in equal numbers. While one person is reading the first part of a poem, each of the players picks up a card on which the other half of the same poem is written, or turns it upside down, when the numbers are equally divided, as the case may be. In the one method, whoever has picked up the most is the winner. In the other, if one were slow in turning over her card and it were picked up by another of the party, she would have as penalty a card from the one who had picked hers up. Thus the one who has turned all her cards upside down first would be the first winner, and one who has any cards left unturned at the end, is the last loser.'

--'Surely you must have some kinds of cards played more seriously,' said one.

--'We have another game called "flower cards."'

--'What's that like?'

--'Well, the flower cards is a more difficult and serious game. In times gone by no game of cards having any resemblance to gambling was played among the gentry; moral discipline forbade such. Since the introduction of European ideas, the rigidity of discipline has somewhat slackened and cards are now played to some extent. Nevertheless, people do not consider card-playing good taste. If they play they do so with some diffidence, somewhat in a similar way as smoking is done by ladies in European society nowadays. The "flower-cards" is a game thus played; our name of it is _Hana-karuta_. The term "Karuta" is, as I said before, of European derivation. The principle is taken from your cards, but so altered and improved, that scarcely any similarity can be detected in its present form. To begin with: the pictures represented on your whist cards appear to us rather incongruous and vulgar; ours are more poetical and consistent. With ours some significant objects of each month, mostly flowers, such as the blossom of the cherry and plum, the iris, wisteria, and peonies, are represented, variegated by birds, the moon, or falling rain. There are four cards for each month, and, therefore, the number of the cards is forty-eight in all. There is a different value assigned to each card. Naturally there are several methods of playing the cards, as is the case with your whist cards, but the method which is used most is very intricate and interesting. I do not care for playing at cards, but I know the methods. I am also acquainted with various European games from whist to bridge as far as the methods are concerned, but none of them equal in intricacy and variation our game of "flower cards," though there is a certain resemblance between flower cards and bridge. But please, I repeat, do not think I am saying all this from any sense of vanity, because such a thing is scarcely worth boasting of; I am merely stating a fact as I see it.'

--'What is, then, the method of playing?'