Introduction
Introduction Statistics Contact Development Disclaimer Help
View source
# 2023-09-05 - A Daughter of the Samurai by Sugimoto Etsuko
Book cover
This title caught my eye in the Project Gutenberg "new books" feed.
After reading the book, i was not disappointed. I was pleased and
interested to "meet" this author!
Her mother and grandmother sincerely believed that she was meant to
be a priestess in a temple, so they arranged special education for
her. Her father had other ideas and hired a Confucian tutor to
give her a classical education. Though conservative, he was broad
minded and open to uniting the beliefs of Buddhism and Christianity.
The author's education was one normally given to boys, but she also
received a girl's education.
This seems to be a major theme in her life: bridging the perceived
gap between spiritual paths, between historic gender roles, and
between eastern and western cultures.
Another theme that caught my attention was how her unique background
prepared her almost providentially for her unique future.
Her grandmother was an avid reader and told many stories during the
winter weather. Her father bought her a set of ten books translated
from English literature, which she enjoyed reading. After her father
died and her brother became the head of the family, he arranged for
her to get married in the US. She went to an English school in Tokyo
to prepare for her move to the US. Some of the books she read in
school were continuations of the stories that her father gave her
when she was a child. This helped her read them with great
enthusiasm and learn very rapidly.
I was interested to read about the island of Hachijo where gender
roles had been reversed during some part of the island's history, and
the society got along very well with the women in charge. It
reminded me of the matriarchal organization of Iron Town in Princess
Mononoke.
Hachijō-jima
I was also interested to read about how the author blushed the first
time she went to watch a play in the US. The actors were emotionally
expressive and they kissed each other. She remarked that physical
affection was not directly depicted in Japanese theater. Instead it
was subtly implied. This is still a convention in Japanese anime,
though not a hard rule.
# Introduction
How startled, I suppose, some of her knightly ancestors would be to
find her putting her private thoughts on paper for all the world to
see. Then indeed the shrines would be pasted up and there would be
horrified silence. But it was that old, hard and feudal code that
gave her strength to break through paper formalities when she felt it
needful. She has given us here a unique picture of the exquisite
complexity and beauty of all human life. She is a great teacher, and
I would not willingly even tread on her shadow.
# Chapter 3: Days of Kan
She helped me dress, then I gathered together the materials for my
work, arranging the big sheets of paper in a pile on my desk and
carefully wiping every article in my ink-box with a square of silk.
Reverence for learning was so strong in Japan at that time that even
the tools we used were considered almost sacred.
Because I was having the training and studies of a boy was one of the
reasons why my family got in the habit of calling me Etsu-bo, the
termination bo being used for a boy's name, as ko is for a girl's.
But my lessons were not confined to those for a boy. I also learned
all the domestic accomplishments taught my sisters--sewing, weaving,
embroidery, cooking, flower-arranging, and the complicated etiquette
of ceremonial tea.
# Chapter 5: Falling Leaves
Every devout Buddhist is absolutely submissive to Fate, for he is
taught that hardship in his present life is either the atonement for
sins committed in the last existence, or the education necessary to
prepare him for a higher place in the life to come. This belief has
held Japan's labouring class in cheerful resignation through ages of
hardship, but also it has taught us to look with such indifference
upon the sufferings of creatures below us in the order of creation
that we have become, as a nation, almost sympathy-blind.
# Chapter 9: The Story of a Marionette
Standards of duty differ on opposite sides of the world, but Japanese
people never flinch at its call. Many a boy and girl not yet in their
teens, many a man and woman at the time of brightest promise, many of
the aged have gone alone to a distant province, and among strangers
have become of them--body, brain, and spirit. But even among beautiful
surroundings, if duty lies behind, undone, nothing, while life lasts,
can break the heart pull, the brain planning, the soul prayer to
reach, even partially, the lost goal. Such is the deep-hidden soul of
Japan.
# Chapter 10: The Day of the Bird
One cold evening I went into Grandmother's room and snuggled down
beside her cushion... I felt that, much as she loved me, the new
conditions that my future faced were beyond her old-fashioned
comprehension. But I learned that night, while I talked with her,
that samurai training will prepare one for any future.
"...Remember, Etsu-bo," and her voice was strangely tender, "where
you live is a small matter. The life of a samurai, man or woman, is
just the same: loyalty to the overlord; bravery in defence of his
honour. In your distant, destined home, remember Grandmother's words:
loyalty to your husband; bravery in defence of his honour. It will
bring you peace."
# Chapter 14: Lessons
I had, however, read a number of translations of English books
and--more valuable than all else--I possessed a supply of scattered
knowledge obtained from a little set of books that my father had
brought me from the capital when I was only a child. They were
translations, compiled from various sources and published by one of
the progressive book houses of Tokyo.
I do not know whose idea it was to translate and publish those ten
little paper volumes, but whoever it was holds my lasting gratitude.
They brought the first shafts of light that opened to my eager mind
the wonders of the Western world, and from them I was led to
countless other friends and companions who, in the years since, have
brought to me such a wealth of knowledge and happiness that I cannot
think what life would have been without them.
These books had been my inspiration during all my years of childhood,
and when, in my study of English at school, my clumsy mind began to
grasp the fact that, hidden beneath the puzzling words were
continuations of stories I knew, and of ideas similar to those I had
found in the old familiar books that I had loved so well, my delight
was unbounded. Then I began to read eagerly. ... And I never wearied.
... Another thing about English books was that, as I read, I was
constantly discovering shadowy replies to the unanswered questions of
my childhood. Oh, English books were a source of deepest joy!
Excepting English, of all my studies history was the favourite; and I
liked and understood best the historical books of the Old Testament.
The figurative language was something like Japanese; the old heroes
had the same virtues and the same weaknesses of our ancient samurai;
the patriarchal form of government was like ours, and the family
system based upon it pictured so plainly our own homes that the
meaning of many questioned passages was far less puzzling to me than
were the explanations of the foreign teachers.
One section of this wild ground the teachers divided into small
gardens, giving one to each of the girls and providing any kind of
flower seeds we wanted. This was a new delight. I already loved the
free growth of the trees, and the grass on which I could walk even in
my shoes; but this "plant-what-you-please" garden gave me a wholly
new feeling of personal right. I, with no violation of tradition, no
stain on the family name, no shock to parent, teacher, or
townspeople, no harm to anything in the world, was free to act. So
instead of having a low bamboo fence around my garden, as most of the
girls had, I went to the kitchen and coaxed the cook to give me some
dried branches used for kindling. Then I made a rustic hedge, and, in
my garden, instead of flowers, I planted--potatoes.
No one knows the sense of reckless freedom which this absurd act gave
me--nor the consequences to which it led. It had unloosed my soul, and
I stood listening, while from a strange tangle of unconventional
smiles and informal acts, of outspoken words and unhidden thoughts,
of growing trees and untouched grass, the spirit of freedom came
knocking at my door.
# Chapter 15: How I Became A Christian
The influence of my school life in Tokyo had been subtle.
Unconsciously I had expanded, until gradually I became convinced that
asking questions was only a part of normal development. Then, for the
first time in my life, I attempted to put into words some of the
secret thoughts of my heart. This was gently encouraged by my tactful
teachers; and, as time passed on, I realized more and more that they
were wonderfully wise for women, and my confidence in them grew. Not
only this, but their effortless influence to inspire happiness
changed my entire outlook on life. My childhood had been happy, but
it had never known one throb of what may be called joyousness.
But my life at school blew into my heart a breath of healthful
cheerfulness. As the restraint which had held me like a vise began to
relax, so also there melted within me the tendency to melancholy.
Although I now know that my first impressions of American womanhood
were exaggerated, I have never regretted this idealization; for
through it I came to realize the tragic truth that the Japanese
woman--like the plum blossom, modest, gentle, and bearing unjust
hardship without complaint--is often little else than a useless
sacrifice; while the American woman--self-respecting, untrammelled,
changing with quick adaptability to new conditions--carries
inspiration to every heart, because her life, like the blossom of the
cherry, blooms in freedom and naturalness.
This realization was of slow growth, and it brought with it much
silent questioning.
From childhood I had known, as did all Japanese people, that woman is
greatly inferior to man.
And yet the great god of Shinto was a woman--the Sun goddess!
"Continue to believe so, little Daughter," he said gently. "And yet
do not forget the stern teachings of your childhood. They form the
current of a crystal stream that, as it flows through the ages, keeps
Japanese women worthy--like your grandmother."
It was not until long, long afterward, when the knowledge of later
years had broadened my mind, that I comprehended his hidden meaning
that a woman may quietly harbour independent thought if she does not
allow it to destroy her gentle womanhood.
As I learned to value womanhood, I realized more and more that my
love of freedom and my belief in my right to grow toward it meant
more than freedom to act, to talk, to think. Freedom also claimed a
spiritual right to grow.
When I was sent to the mission school the fact that the teachers were
of another religion was not considered at all. They were thought of
only as teachers of the language and manners of America; so when I
wrote to Mother, asking her consent to my becoming a Christian, I
know she was greatly surprised. But she was a wise woman. She
replied, "My daughter, this is an important thing. I think it will be
best for you to wait until vacation. Then we will talk of it."
My mother, who had learned from Father to be tolerant of the opinions
of others, had no prejudice against the new religion; but she
believed that the great duty in life for sons and daughters consisted
in a rigid observance of the ritual for ancestor-worship and the
ceremonies in memory of the dead. When I first reached home her heart
was heavy with dread, but when she learned that my new faith did not
require disrespect to ancestors, her relief and gratitude were
pathetic, and she readily gave her consent.
I think I am a true Christian. At least my belief has given me untold
comfort and a perfect heart-satisfaction, but it has never separated
me from my Buddhist friends. They have respect for this strange
belief of mine; for they feel that, although I am loyal to the
Christian God, I still keep the utmost reverence for my fathers and
respect for the faith that was the highest and holiest thing they
knew.
# Chapter 18: Strange Customs
One thing in America, to which I could not grow accustomed, was the
joking attitude in regard to women and money.
Our suburb was small and we were all interested in each other's
affairs, so I was acquainted with almost everybody. I knew the ladies
to be women of education and culture, yet there seemed to be among
them a universal and openly confessed lack of responsibility about
money. They all dressed well and seemed to have money for specific
purposes, but no open purse to use with free and responsible judgment.
It seemed incredible, here in America, where women are free and
commanding, that a woman of dignity and culture, the mistress of a
home, the mother of children, should be forced either to ask her
husband for money, or be placed in a humiliating position.
The standards of my own and my adopted country differed so widely in
some ways, and my love for both lands was so sincere, that sometimes
I had an odd feeling of standing upon a cloud in space, and gazing
with measuring eyes upon two separate worlds.
Also I acquired the habit, whenever I saw absurd things here which
evidently arose from little knowledge of Japan, of trying to recall a
similar absurdity in Japan regarding foreign things. And I never
failed to find more than one to offset each single instance here.
# Chapter 19: Thinking
I explained as well as I could that for generations we have been
taught that strong emotional expression is not consistent with
elegance and dignity. That does not mean that we try to repress our
feelings; only that public expression of them is bad form. Therefore
on our stage the love scenes are generally so demure and quiet that
an American audience would not be thrilled at all. But the dignified
bearing of our actors has a strong effect on Japanese people, for
they understand the feeling that is not shown.
Bowing is not only bending the body; it has a spiritual side also.
One does not bow exactly the same to father, younger sister, friend,
servant, and child. My mother's long, dignified bow and gentle-voiced
farewell held no lack of deep love. I felt keenly each heart-throb,
and every other person present also recognized the depth of hidden
emotion.
The Japanese language has no pronouns, their place being taken by
adjectives. A humble or derogatory adjective means "my" and a
complimentary one means "your." A husband will introduce his wife
with some such words as these: "Pray bestow honourable glance upon
foolish wife." By this he simply means, "I want you to meet my wife."
A father will speak of his children as "ignorant son" or "untrained
daughter" when his heart is overflowing with pride and tenderness.
Years of residence in this country have taught me that the American
mode of heart expression has its spiritual side, just as bowing has.
I now understand that a kiss expresses kindness or gratitude,
friendship or love; each of which is a sacred whisper from heart to
heart.
# Chapter 20: Neighbours
When I came to America I expected to learn many things, but I had no
thought that I was going to learn anything about Japan. Yet our
neighbours, by their questions and remarks, were teaching me every
day new ways of looking at my own country.
We Japanese have a way of considering a thing invisible until it is
settled in its proper place.
Many of our customs I had taken for granted, accepting the ways of
our ancestors without any thought except that thus they had been and
still were. When I began to question myself about things which had
always seemed simple and right because they were in accordance with
laws made by our wise rulers, sometimes I was puzzled and sometimes I
was frightened.
"I am afraid that I am growing very bold and man-like," I would think
to myself, "but God gave me a brain to use, else why do I have it?"
"That is easy," I said, laughing in my turn. "A genuine
woman's-rights woman is not one who wants her rights, but one who has
them. And if that means the right to do men's work, I can easily give
you a specimen. We have a whole island of women who do men's work
from planting rice to making laws."
"What do the men do?"
"Cook, keep house, take care of the children, and do the family
washing."
"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Miss Helen, and she sat down again.
But I did mean it, and I told her of Hachijo, a little island about a
hundred miles off the coast of Japan, where the women, tall,
handsome, and straight, with their splendid hair coiled in an odd
knot on top of the head, and wearing long, loose gowns bound by a
narrow sash tied in front, work in the ricefields, make oil from
camellia seeds, spin and weave a peculiar yellow silk which they
carry in bundles on their heads over the mountains, at the same time
driving tiny oxen, not much larger than dogs, also laden with rolls
of silk to be sent to the mainland to be sold. And in addition to all
this they make some of the best laws we have and see that they are
properly carried out. In the meantime, the older men of the
community, with babies strapped to their backs, go on errands or
stand on the street gossiping and swaying to a sing-song lullaby; and
the younger ones wash sweet potatoes, cut vegetables, and cook
dinner; or, in big aprons and with sleeves looped back, splash, rub,
and wring out clothes at the edge of a stream.
The beginning of this unusual state of things dates back several
centuries, to a time when the husbands and sons were forced to go to
another island about forty miles away, for fishing, very little of
which could be done near Hachijo. When silk proved more profitable
than fish, the men returned to the island, but the Government was in
capable hands which have never given up their hold.
# Chatper 22: Flower In A Strange Land
Buddhism, on its ages-long journey from India to Japan, seems to have
dropped many of its original elements of terror; or else they were
softened and lost in the goodly company of our jolly and helpful
Shinto gods. Not one of these do we dread, for, in Shintoism, even
Death is only a floating cloud through which we pass on our journey
in the sunshine of Nature's eternal life.
# Chapter 27: Honourable Grandmother
"Do Honourable Grandmother's God and our God know each other up in
heaven?" asked Chiyo.
I was leaning in the alcove to brush a bit of dust off the carving,
and Hanano replied.
"Of course they do, Chiyo," she said. "Jesus had just as hard a time
as the August Buddha did to teach people that God wants them to be
good and kind and splendid. Mamma always says that Honourable
Grandmother and our dear American Grandma are good, just alike."
Chiyo had loved Mother from the beginning. The child's affectionate
advances were somewhat of a shock at first, but very soon the two
were congenial companions. It was odd that religion should be one of
the binding cords. The kindergarten was just beyond the temple, so
Chiyo was familiar with the road, and as I did not like to have
Mother go alone, Chiyo often went with her when Sudzu was busy. The
child liked to sit in the great solemn place and listen to the
chanting, and she liked to be given rice-cakes by the mild-faced
priestess who served tea to Mother after the service. One day Mother
said: "Chiyo, you are very kind to come with me to the temple. Next
time I will go with you to your church." So Chiyo took her to hear
our minister, a good man who preached in Japanese. After that they
often went together, sometimes to the temple, where Chiyo stood with
bowed head while her grandmother softly rubbed her rosary between her
hands and murmured, "Namu Amida Butsu!" and sometimes to the
Christian church, where Mother listened attentively to the sermon and
bowed in reverence when the Minister prayed. Then hand in hand they
would come home together, talking of what they had heard at one place
or the other.
"The holy shrine, little Chiyo, is only a box when it is empty," she
said, "and my body is only a borrowed shrine in which I live. But it
is proper courtesy to leave a borrowed article in the best
condition."
Chiyo's eyes looked very deep and solemn for a moment. "That's why
we have to take a bath every day and always keep our teeth clean.
Dear me! I never thought of that as being polite to God."
# Chapter 29: A Lady of Old Japan
My minister was sorely troubled that I should have observed these
last Buddhist rites--unnecessary after my mother had passed beyond
the knowledge or the hurt of their neglect. I told him that, had I
died even one day after I became a Christian, my mother would have
been faithful, to the minutest detail, in giving me the Christian
burial that she believed would satisfy my heart; and that I was my
mother's daughter. Influence? Yes. The influence of loyalty,
sympathy, understanding; all of which are characteristics of Our
Father--hers and mine.
author: Sugimoto, Etsuko, 1874-1950
detail: gopher://gopherpedia.com/0/A_Daughter_of_the_Samurai
LOC: DS825 .S8
source: gopher://gopher.pglaf.org/1/7/0/7/6/70766/
tags: biography,ebook,history,non-fiction
title: A Daughter of the Samurai
# Tags
biography
ebook
history
non-fiction
You are viewing proxied material from tilde.pink. The copyright of proxied material belongs to its original authors. Any comments or complaints in relation to proxied material should be directed to the original authors of the content concerned. Please see the disclaimer for more details.