Kabuki Plays on Stage. Volume 4: Restoration and Reform, 1872-1905 9780824845919

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K A B U K I PLAYS ON STAGE Volume 1, Brilliance and Bravado, 1 6 9 7 - 1 7 6 6 Volume 2, Villainy and Vengeance, 1 7 7 3 - 1 7 9 9 Volume 3, Darkness and Desire, 1 8 0 4 - 1 8 6 4 Volume 4, Restoration and Reform, 1 8 7 2 - 1 9 0 5

See page 432 for a complete list of plays in these volumes.

Kabuki Plays On Stage RESTORATION AND REFORM,

E D I T E D BY J A M E S R. B R A N D O N A N D

1872-1905

SAMUEL

L. L E I T E R

111 U N I V E R S I T Y OF HAWAI'I PRESS HONOLULU

Publication of this book has been assisted by

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

grants from the Nippon Foundation

Mnmrnm

Kabuki plays on stage / edited by James R. Brandon

The Nippon Foundation

and Samuel L. Leiter. p. cm.

and Includes bibliographical references and indexes. Shiseido Co, Ltd., and the International Communications Foundation through the Association for 100 Japanese books.

Contents: v. I Brilliance and bravado, 1697-1766 v. 2 Villainy and vengeance, 1773-1799

© 2003 University of Hawai'i Press

I. Kabuki plays—Translations into English.

Printed in China 07 06 05 04 03 02

v. 3 Darkness and desire, 1804-1864 v. 4 Restoration and reform, 1872-1905

All rights reserved

6 5 4 3 2 1

I, Brandon, James R.

II. Leiter, Samuel L.

PL782.E5 K36 2002 University of Hawai'i Press books are printed on acid-

895.6'2008—dc21

2001027912

free paper and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Council on Library Resources.

ISBN 0 - 8 2 4 8 - 2 4 0 3 - 2 (v. I.: alk. paper) ISBN 0-8248-241 3 - x (v. 2.: alk. paper)

Design by Stuart McKee Design, San Francisco

ISBN 0 - 8 2 4 8 - 2 4 5 5 - 5 (v. 3.: alk. paper) ISBN 0 - 8 2 4 8 - 2 5 7 4 - 8 (v. 4.: alk. paper)

Printed by the Everbest Printing Company

This series is dedicated to Professor Torigoe Bunzo and his strong vision of kabuki as an international theatre.

CONTENTS

ix

I

PREFACE

INTRODUCTION J A M E S R. B R A N D O N A N D S A M U E L L. L E I T E R

1872

38

Two Lions

Ren Jishi

K A W A T A K E M O K U A M I ( T E X T ) ; K I N E Y A S H O J I R O III ( M U S I C ) ; H A N A Y A G I J U S U K E I ( C H O R E O G R A P H Y ) , T R A N S L A T E D BY P A U L M. G R I F F I T H

1873

56

Sakai's D r u m

Sakai no Taiko

K A W A T A K E M O K U A M I , T R A N S L A T E D BY P A U L M. G R I F F I T H

1873

82

Shinza the Barber FROM

Kamiyui

Shinza

Tsuyu Kosode Mukashi Hachijo

A Rainy Season

Short-Sleeved R o b e and Old-Time H a c h i j o Silk K A W A T A K E M O K U A M I, T R A N S L A T E D BY F A I T H

1877

120

T h e W o m a n Student FROM

Fujibitai

BACH

Onna Shosei Shigeru

Tsukuba no Shigeyama

T h e Widow's Peak S h a p e d

Like M o u n t Fuji, the Lush G r e e n e r y o f M o u n t Tsukuba K A W A T A K E M O K U A M I , T R A N S L A T E D BY V A L E R I E L. D U R H A M

1881

200

T h e R e n o w n e d Banzui C h o b e i

Kiwametsuki Banzui

K A W A T A K E M O K U A M I , T R A N S L A T E D BY B A R B A R A

1883

234

T h e D e m o n Ibaraki

Chobei

E.THORNBURY

Ibaraki

K A W A T A K E M O K U A M I ( T E X T ) ; K I N E Y A S H O J I R O III ( M U S I C ) ; H A N A Y A G I J U S U K E I ( C H O R E O G R A P H Y ) , T R A N S L A T E D BY L E O N A R D C . P R O N K O A N D T O M O N O

1883

258

T h e Fishmonger Sogoro FROM

Sakanaya Sogoro

Shin Sarayashiki Tsuki no Amagasa

Moonlit U m b r e l l a at the Dish Palace, New Version K A W A T A K E M O K U AM I, TR A N SL A T E D BY F A I T H

BACH

MITSU

CONTENTS

1885

280

Benkei Aboard Ship

Funa Benkei

KAWATAKE MOKUAMI ( T E X T ) ; KINEYA SHOJIRO III (MUSIC); H A N A Y A G I JUSUKE I ( C H O R E O G R A P H Y ) , T R A N S L A T E D BY PAUL M. G R I F F I T H

1887

302

Viewing the Autumn Foliage

Momijigari

KAWATAKE MOKUAMI A N D MORITA KANYA X I I ( T E X T ) ; T S U R U Z A W A YASUTARO (TAKEMOTO). (NAGAUTA)

K I S H I Z A W A SHIKISA VI (TOKIWAZU),

A N D KINEYA SHOJIRO III

(MUSIC); I C H I K A W A DANJURO IX ( C H O R E O G R A P H Y ) ,

T R A N S L A T E D BY R I C H A R D EM M ERT AN D A L A N CUMMINGS

1892

3 26

The Dropped Robe

Suo Otoshi

F U K U C H I O C H I ( T E X T ) ; KINEYA SHOJIRO III (NAGAUTA) YASUTARO (TAKEMOTO)

AND TSURUZAWA

(MUSIC); I C H I K A W A DANJURO IX A N D FUJIMA K A N ' E M O N II

( C H O R E O G R A P H Y ) , T R A N S L A T E D BY JULIE A. I E Z Z I

1893

346

The Mirror Lion, a Spring Diversion

Shunkyo

KagamiJishi

F U K U C H I O C H I ( T E X T ) ; KINEYA SHOJIRO III (MUSIC); I C H I K A W A DANJURO IX A N D FUJIMA K A N ' E M O N II ( C H O R E O G R A P H Y ) , T R A N S L A T E D BY PAUL M. G R I F F I T H

1905

3 64

A Sinking Moon over the Lonely Castle Where the Cuckoo Cries Hototogisu Kojo Rakugetsu T S U B O U C H I S H O Y O , T R A N S L A T E D BY J. T H O M A S RIMER

395

GLOSSARY

413

SELECTED

BIBLIOGRAPHY

419

CONTRIBUTORS

423

INDEX

432

L I S T O F P L A Y S BY V O L U M E

PREFACE

ix

T h e kabuki theatre of Japan, o n e of the world's greatest dramatic traditions, presently has an active repertory of 250 to 300 plays and dances, of which less than 20 have been translated into English. In addition, somewhat more than a dozen texts of the p u p p e t theatre (widely known as bunraku), later adapted by kabuki, have been translated. Even taken together, this small n u m b e r does not compare with the hundreds of translations of no a n d kydgen plays. O u r intention in these four volumes is to begin to redress this gap by bringing to the reader translations of 51 previously untranslated kabuki plays. It is the first time in over twenty years that a collection of new kabuki translations is being published. T h e r e are many reasons for this lack of translations, including the linguistic difficulty of u n d e r s t a n d i n g kabuki's ever-changing colloquial vocabulary, the complexities of transposing kabuki's elaborate verbal gymnastics and declamatory meter into a n o t h e r language, and the problem of establishing authentic texts in a domain where, in principle, the script of each production was newly written. Even today, as our experience working on this project often demonstrated, there are likely to be significant variations a m o n g certain scripts used by different actors. Moreover, as a practical matter, many of the plays are long. Finally, translation of the composite art of kabuki must take into account music, dance, acting, a n d staging as well as language. T h e plays translated in these four volumes were selected with several criteria in mind. Most of all, the plays chosen by the editors a n d translators have exciting stories a n d charismatic characters; they are powerfully written and are brilliantly theatrical on stage. It often was difficult to limit our selection because many other plays also deserve translation. T h e plays chosen for inclusion are also representative of major playwrights, chronological periods of playwriting, play types (history, domestic, a n d dance dramas), and performance styles. Plays from both Edo (Tokyo) and Kamigata (Osaka a n d Kyoto) kabuki are included. All the chosen plays are in the current repertory, are regularly staged, and have not been previously translated. If only certain scenes or acts from a long play are presented today, then those scenes or acts have been translated. In a few cases, long plays, with their important scenes intact, have been slightly reduced in length,

PREFACE

x

and where possible, a brief summation of the deleted passages has been provided by the translator. We had not initially planned a four-volume effort, but as we combed kabuki's wonderfully rich repertory and as we consulted with our translators, the n u m b e r of "must translate" plays grew beyond one, or two, or even three volumes. In the end, we selected fifty-one plays that we felt deserved translation, would be interesting to read, and might even be p e r f o r m e d in English. T h e translations have been written by the editors and twenty contributors from Japan, England, Canada, Australia, and the United States, each person doing o n e or more plays. In addition to their love for kabuki and d e e p knowledge of its p e r f o r m i n g traditions, the translators share o n e vital quality: a passionate desire to transform these plays of two and three centuries past into living theatrical English. T h e translators bring different viewpoints to their work: some are scholars of literature and drama, some are practitioners of kabuki music and dance, some are kabuki theatre experts. As editors, we value each translator's unique voice a n d style of writing, and we hope the reader will enjoy the variety of tone and style within the series. We have, of course, made suggestions to the translators, but our major efforts have been to regularize the format and work for consistency of form. As the series title implies, the plays are translated as if "on stage," with stage directions indicating major scenic effects, stage action, costuming, makeup, music, and sound effects. In some cases, complex stage actions—such as stage fights— require several pages of careful description. We hope that such passages will read as clearly a n d interestingly as the dialogue. O n e translator may emphasize music a n d a n o t h e r action or scenic effects, according to the nature of the play and his or her interests. Each translation is based on the translator's choice of a text that approximates a p e r f o r m a n c e on stage today (often this is an unpublished p e r f o r m a n c e script), supplemented by attending public performances and by viewing performance videotapes. Because each p e r f o r m a n c e is different, a translation reflects one p e r f o r m a n c e example; it cannot reflect them all. Each play is illustrated with a woodblock print (ukiyo-e), sometimes a series of them, and several stage photographs. T h e ukiyo-e artist commonly included on the print the n a m e of the actor or character and, occasionally, a poem, commentary, or

PREFACE

section of dialogue. These inscriptions, translated in the captions, are indicated by quotation marks. Voice in kabuki is often sculpted into definite rhythmic measures. Narrative portions are sung or chanted by musicians on- or offstage (takemoto and ôzatsuma are two such styles). In the translations, the e n d of a phrase of sung or chanted lyric is indicated by a slash ( / ) between phrases, which we hope will suggest the original's general structure. Some translators directly reproduce the Japanese seven-five meter (shichigochô) in English, while others seek only to suggest the rhythmic structure of such lines. T h e theatre, city, and date of the first production are m e n t i o n e d before each translation. Stage directions are given in the standard way, from the actor's point of view: when facing the audience, right is the actor's right a n d left is the actor's left. Personal names are given in the Japanese fashion, with family n a m e first, followed by the given name. A dozen or so Japanese terms that are generally known—kimono, obi, sake, samurai, daimyo, shamisen, and others—are not translated into English n o r included in the glossary. In all other cases, translations of Japanese terms are given in the text. To facilitate reading, we have eschewed footnotes within the translations wherever possible in favor of including the pertinent information in the body of the translation, the stage directions, or the introduction. In years prior to 1873, m o n t h s are given according to the lunar calendar; thus "first m o n t h 1865" means the first lunar month of 1865 (early to mid-February on the Western calendar). Dates after 1873, when the Japanese government adopted the Western calendar, are given in Western style (e.g., January 1899). Translations are a r r a n g e d in chronological order, a n d each translation is introduced by its translator. For each volume, the editors have written a general introduction, focusing on the historical development of kabuki drama, and have compiled a bibliography of sources and a glossary of terms. (For more detailed definitions of terms, see Samuel L. Leiter, New Kabuki Encyclopedia: A Revised Adaptation o/KabukiJiten [1997].) T h e editors wish to thank the many institutions, scholars, artists, and friends who have supported this undertaking. Publication of the four volumes is supported in part through a major grant to the University of Hawai'i Press f r o m T h e Nippon

PREFACE

xii

F o u n d a t i o n , f o r which we are enormously grateful. T h e J a p a n F o u n d a t i o n provided a six-month research fellowship to J a m e s R. B r a n d o n f o r study in Tokyo, f r o m January t h r o u g h J u n e 1999, to get the p r o j e c t underway. A g r a n t f r o m the University of Hawai'i Research Council provided s u p p o r t f o r c o m p u t e r assistance a n d p h o t o digitizing. Samuel L. Leiter received two PSC-CUNY Research F o u n d a t i o n grants that allowed him to work o n the project in Tokyo in J a n u a r y 1999 a n d May 2000. A g r a n t f r o m the Asian Cultural Council assisted his research in J a n u a r y 1999. H e also was awarded an Ethyle Wolfe Institute for the H u m a n i t i e s Fellowship that allowed him to s p e n d a year working o n the p r o j e c t f r e e f r o m t e a c h i n g a n d administrative duties. Professors Torigoe Bunzo, f o r m e r director, a n d Ito Hiroshi, c u r r e n t director of the Tsubouchi Memorial T h e a t r e Museum o f W a s e d a University (Waseda Daigaku Tsubouchi Hakase Kinen Engeki H a k u b u t s u k a n ) a n d their staff generously o p e n e d the m u s e u m ' s vast kabuki collection to us. In particular, Suzuki Yoshio, Kozuka Kumi, Terada Shima, a n d Ikawa Mayuko s e a r c h e d o u t a n d provided 229 ukiyo-e prints a n d stage p h o t o g r a p h s as illustrations. Asahara Tsuneo, secretary-general of the J a p a n Actors' Association (Nihon Haiyu Kyokai), kindly e x t e n d e d permission to use p h o t o g r a p h s u n d e r the association's j u r i s d i c t i o n . Hayashi Yukio, m a n a g i n g director of Engeki S h u p p a n s h a , a n d U m e m u r a Yutaka, chief p h o t o g r a p h e r of that theatrical publishing house, kindly provided many n e e d e d p h o t o g r a p h s that we were u n a b l e to obtain elsewhere. Karashima Atsumi a n d Orita Koji of the National T h e a t r e of J a p a n , Miyazaki Kyoichi of the Kabuki-za, Abiko Tadashi a n d Nakazato Takeshi of the S h o c h i k u Company, a n d chief librarian of the S h o c h i k u O t a n i Library, Ogawa Akiko, generously h e l p e d locate a n d o b t a i n research materials. A m o n g o u r colleagues, we are especially i n d e b t e d to professors Kei H i b i n o of Seikei University for b e i n g an indefatigable negotiator o n o u r behalf a n d , at the University of Hawai'i, Julie Iezzi for sharing h e r wide knowledge of kabuki music, Kakuko Shoji f o r writing English translations of many woodblock inscriptions, a n d A l e x a n d e r Vovin f o r transcription assistance. Professors Kawatake Toshio, Mori Mitsuya, a n d F u r u i d o H i d e o ; K o n o Takashi of t h e Nihon Keizai n e w s p a p e r ; Konaka Yotaro, m a n a g i n g director of the J a p a n P.E.N. Club; a n d Fujita Hiroshi, general-secretary of t h e J a p a n T h e a t r e Association ( N i h o n Engeki Kyokai), have b e e n s t a u n c h

PREFACE

supporters of the project, opening many doors for us. Patricia Crosby, our executive editor, and Ann Ludeman, our production editor, have been pillars of support a n d understanding t h r o u g h o u t this arduous project, and we cannot thank them e n o u g h for all their help. And we are, as ever, indebted to our wives, Reiko Mochinaga Brandon a n d Marcia Leiter, for their limitless patience and support.

James R. Brandon Samuel L. Leiter

I NTRODUCTION By J a m e s R. B r a n d o n a n d S a m u e l L. L e i t e r

In 1868 samurai of the o u t e r clans of Satsuma a n d Choshu, fighting o n behalf of the y o u n g Meiji e m p e r o r , d e f e a t e d the armies of the s h o g u n a l g o v e r n m e n t in several fierce battles. T h u s e n d e d nearly t h r e e centuries of domestic peace u n d e r the feudal rule of the Tokugawa s h o g u n a t e (bakufu). T h e internal stability a n d social c o h e r e n c e that h a d b e e n such f u n d a m e n t a l characteristics of the bakufu h a d provided conditions u n d e r which kabuki developed as the quintessential expression of J a p a n e s e u r b a n culture. I n d e e d , for over two a n d a half centuries continuity a n d tradition provided the b e d r o c k o n which kabuki actors a n d playwrights e r e c t e d their t h o u s a n d s u p o n t h o u s a n d s of revivals a n d new p r o d u c t i o n s year in a n d year out. D u r i n g the Meiji p e r i o d (1868-1912), kabuki c o n t i n u e d with, if anything, g r e a t e r p o p u l a r s u p p o r t t h a n ever b e f o r e . Kabuki's place in society drastically changed, however, a n d its artists a n d supporters worked consciously to reposition the t h e a t r e in seemingly opposite directions—to r e f o r m kabuki's feudal a n d hedonistic n a t u r e a n d at the same time restore aspects of this theatre that h a d b e e n suppressed by Tokugawa laws a n d regulations. T h e twelve plays in this volume are representative of several m a j o r trends of Meiji-period a u t h o r s h i p a n d p e r f o r m a n c e . J a p a n ' s leaders e m b a r k e d o n a nationwide, all-consuming e f f o r t to create a society of "civilization a n d e n l i g h t e n m e n t " (bunmei kaika) that would be accepted by the Western powers t h e n t h r e a t e n i n g J a p a n . T h e new society was to be m o d e l e d primarily o n E u r o p e a n political, e c o n o m i c , a n d cultural practice. It was a r g u e d that kabuki, a l o n g with o t h e r institutions, h a d to reform its old ways in o r d e r to participate in this new world. T h e plays translated h e r e reflect the intensely conflicted circumstances that faced kabuki practitioners in a highly fluid social situation. O n the o n e h a n d , playwrights, actors, a n d p r o d u c e r s were the inheritors of a brilliantly polished (if still vulgar) art f o r m with strongly d e f i n e d dramatic traditions as well as staging practices. D e f e n d e r s of kabuki believed that surely n o t everything in the "old" kabuki should be abolished simply to please Western tastes. T h r e e plays translated h e r e c o n t i n u e traditional Edop e r i o d p a t t e r n s of d r a m a t u r g y a n d acting into the new era: Shinza the Barber (1873), The Renowned Banzui Chobei (1881, h e r e a f t e r Banzui Chdbei), a n d The Fishmonger Sogoro (1883). O n the o t h e r h a n d , new types of plays a n d new p e r f o r m i n g styles were created that reflected u n i q u e aspects of the new Meiji p e r i o d a n d c o n t e m p o r a r y tastes. Just

INTRODUCTION

as o n e of the m a j o r goals of the Meiji Restoration was to r e t u r n to a supposedly purer, earlier political form, six d a n c e plays translated h e r e hark back for inspiration to classic no a n d kyogen plays a n d their p u r e r p e r f o r m a n c e styles: Two Lions (1872), The Demon Ibaraki (1883), Benkei Aboard Ship (1885), Viewing the Autumn

Foliage

(1887), The Dropped Robe (1892), a n d The Mirror Lion, a Spring Diversion

(1893,

h e r e a f t e r The Mirror Lion). Borrowing f r o m no a n d kyogen can be viewed as part of the r e f o r m m o v e m e n t to improve the art of kabuki a n d as an a t t e m p t to restore the f r e e d o m , so l o n g d e n i e d by the Tokugawa g o v e r n m e n t , of playwrights a n d actors to use whatever dramatic materials a n d p e r f o r m a n c e style they wished, even those previously reserved f o r the samurai class. T h e principles of r e f o r m are most conspicuous in t h r e e plays that dramatize c o n t e m p o r a r y Meiji-period subject m a t t e r or use p e r f o r m a n c e t e c h n i q u e s newly devised in this p e r i o d : Sakai's Drum (1873), The Woman Student (1877), a n d A Sinking Moon over the Lonely Castle Where the Cuckoo Cries (1905, h e r e a f t e r A Sinking Moon). Put a n o t h e r way, the e n o r m o u s changes that were occurring, literally daily, in J a p a n e s e society in the late n i n e t e e n t h century are directly reflected in a minority of the kabuki plays b e i n g written in this time, b u t are m o r e o f t e n expressed in new plays t h r o u g h i n d i r e c t i o n . Kabuki m a n a g e r s were practical t h e a t r e p e o p l e who strove to balance the surefire draw of traditional works with the u n t e s t e d appeal of new styles a n d subject matter. Also, it is i m p o r t a n t to recognize that many extremely interesting Meiji-period plays were wildly p o p u l a r at the time of their premiers, b u t because they were not revived, they did not e n t e r the standard repertory represented by this series. Let us look briefly at the circumstances in which Meiji playwrights, producers, actors, c h o r e o g r a p h e r s , a n d musicians e m b a r k e d o n their o f t e n zealous mission to r e f o r m a n d restore kabuki. P r o d u c t i o n was only marginally affected by the turmoil that p r e c e d e d the e n d of the s h o g u n a t e . In 1867, street fighting between imperial a n d s h o g u n a l soldiers caused E d o ' s chief licensed theatres, the Nakamura-za, the Ichimura-za, a n d the Morita-za, to close for a week. A Morita-za p e r f o r m a n c e was i n t e r r u p t e d w h e n quarrels between samurai a n d spectators spilled over o n t o the hanamichi. After several h u n d r e d soldiers took to the streets, it r e q u i r e d seven days f o r the Morita-za to r e s u m e p r o d u c t i o n . D u r i n g the s u m m e r of 1868 a u d i e n c e s

INTRODUCTION

dwindled to the point that the Nakamura-za was dark for fifty-eight days and the Ichimura-za for thirty-eight. That autumn, in a display of political awareness, the Morita-za and the Nakamura-za j o i n e d forces to stage the prophetically titled Dedication

of Loyalty to the Eastern Capital (Azuma no Miyako Chushin Yurai), with

"eastern capital" being written with the characters for "Tokyo." By November 1868, when the new emperor changed the city's name to Tokyo and moved his capital there, audiences once more flocked to the theatres, perhaps in relief. In Tokyo, the three licensed theatres continued without change. Nakamura Kanzaburo XIII ( 1 8 2 8 - 1 8 9 5 ) ran the Nakamura-za as that theatre's hereditary manager

(zamoto).

T h e Ichimura-za's star player was Kawarasaki (also spelled Kawarazaki) Gonjuro I, who would later become Ichikawa Danjuro IX ( 1 8 3 8 - 1 9 0 3 ) , arguably the most famous actor in kabuki's long history. T h e Morita-za's new manager was twenty-threeyear-old Morita Kanya XII ( 1 8 4 6 - 1 8 9 7 ) , whose family had produced kabuki in the city for twelve generations. He had recently engaged Bando Mitsugoro VI (1841— 1873) and Onoe Kikujiro II ( 1 8 1 4 - 1 8 7 5 ) as his stars. In the Kamigata region (Osaka/Kyoto) kabuki's popularity was at its peak. Troupes performed in ten large and small theatres in Osaka and in four theatres in Kyoto. T h e Tokugawa shogunate had never been liked in Kamigata, so it may be that theatre in the region was especially vibrant in the days and months following the shogunate's fall. Unlike no and kyogen actors, who were pauperized overnight when the new Meiji regime abolished the feudal system and thus rescinded the stipends of such actors, kabuki actors were supported by box office ticket sales. Kabuki's commercial nature provided continuity and an assured means of support through the initial period of the Restoration and the numerous political and economic changes that ensued. Foremost among the failures of the Tokugawa shogunate that led to its collapse was its inability to defend the nation against intrusions by Western powers. But now that the emperor's supporters ruled the country, the slogan around which they had rallied, "Expel the barbarians and revere the emperor," rang hollow. They found that the barbarians could not be expelled unless Japan was on an equal footing with the West. Study missions were dispatched to Europe to gain knowledge of

INTRODUCTION

4

Western political, military, and economic systems. Observers returned h o m e with the incidental information that elite citizens of advanced nations supported performing arts such as ballet and opera. Kabuki was the local theatre form that seemed most analogous to these grand spectacles; h e n c e if kabuki could be r e f o r m e d into a respectable art, could it not entertain visiting foreign dignitaries as well as provide wholesome family relaxation in the new Japan? Changes of several types were proposed. First, continuing efforts were m a d e to introduce kabuki to an elite audience. As early as 1872 the government's newly formed Ministry of Instruction (Kyobunsho) pressured kabuki's leaders to raise the theatre's moral standards and thereby appeal to a better audience. Kanya XII began to successfully court the attendance of foreign residents and dignitaries from around 1878 at his newly rebuilt Shintomi-za (formerly the Morita-za), discussed below. That same year, J a p a n ' s f o r m e r ambassador to the United States presented leading kabuki actors to an audience of foreigners. In 1886, Danjuro IX and o t h e r actors gave a special p e r f o r m a n c e for foreign dignitaries at the h o m e of statesman O k u m a Shigenobu. Following this, Danjuro and fellow star O n o e Kikugoro V (1844-1903) were invited to see a foreign play at the residence of Foreign Minister Inoue Kaoru (1835-1915). Finally, in April 1887, four days of kabuki performances were arranged for the "imperial viewing of drama" (tenrangeki), marking recognition of kabuki's restored social status. A woodblock print of the event illustrates the first day of p e r f o r m a n c e . Actors Danjuro IX, Ichikawa Sadanji I (1842-1904), and Nakamura Fukusuke IV (later Nakamura Shikan V, then Nakamura Utaemon V, 1865-1940), costumed for their roles in The Subscription List (Kanjincho, 1840, trans. Scott 1953 and Brandon and Niwa 1966), are shown side by side with the Meiji e m p e r o r a n d empress. T h e e m p e r o r viewed the first day's performance, while the empress—who wept when the child Kotaro was slain in The Village School (Terakoya, 1746, trans. Ernst 1959 and Leiter 2001)—was the h o n o r e d guest on day two; other members of the imperial family came on days three and four. T h e actors p e r f o r m e d al fresco on the grounds of the residence of Foreign Minister Inoue, in Tokyo's Azabu district. T h e makeshift arrangements included a much abbreviated hanamichi that greatly irked Danjuro. I m p o r t a n t as the event was for kabuki, we should note that the imperial family did not attend a professional kabuki theatre, nor did the carefully

INTRODUCTION

5

chosen program of high-toned dance dramas and classic history plays include any about commoners (sewamono). T h e Meiji-period intelligentsia wanted neither the e m p e r o r nor foreign spectators to see an ordinary kabuki program, which they considered noisy, violent, and sensually provocative. T h e kabuki desired by officials and scholars did not exist, so it had to be created by reforms that drew on European examples. T h e 1880s was the era of the Rokumeikan, a Western-style building where the cream of Tokyo society, dressed in the latest Western finery, demonstrated their knowledge of imported manners and fashion. In particular, the unequal treaties, which the government had felt forced to sign, made the nation keenly aware of the need to gain foreign respect. O n e has only to think of the grotesque caricature o f j a p a n in Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado, which was playing in London and New York in 1885, to understand the urgently felt need for reform. In August 1886, the Society for T h e a t r e Reform (Engeki Kairyokai) was organized a m o n g scholars and journalists u n d e r the leadership of Prime Minister Ito Hirobumi (1841-1909) a n d his son-in-law, Suematsu Kencho (1855-1920); it publicly d e m a n d e d the elimination of stage indecency a n d the elevation of the playwright's position. Also in 1886, Kamigata actors Nakamura Ganjiro I (1860-1935) and Nakamura Sojuro I (1835-1889) were a m o n g those who established the Theatre Reform Company (Kairyo Engeki Kaisha) in Osaka. At the opening ceremony, the actors greeted the audience in frock coats, promising truth and authenticity in their productions. T h e group's first production, Building Kabuki in Utsunomiya (Utsunomiya Kabuki Tatemae, 1887), contained a play-within-a-play in which a new type of kabuki was created. Sojuro, who two years earlier had played a role equivalent to Antonio in the first Japanese version of The Merchant of Venice, introduced a m o d e r n acting approach to both Kamigata and Tokyo kabuki. Reformers d e p l o r e d kabuki's plebian vitality, in which they saw lewdness, vulgarity, and cruelty. They d e m a n d e d that realistic dialogue and costumes based on actual clothing, not theatrical fancy, be used. Proposals called for abolishing the hanamichi,

replacing female-role specialists (onnagata) with actresses, and doing

away with practically all of kabuki's traditional techniques—the black-robed stage assistants (kurogo), offstage shamisen music, woodblock sound effects (ki and tsuke),

INTRODUCTION

6

poses (mie a n d omoiire), rhythmic elocution a n d formalized rhetorical devices (yakuharai, warizerifu, watarizerifu), narrative accompaniment (takemoto), a n d stylized fighting (tachimawari). In 1889, the J a p a n Entertainment Society (Nihon Engei Kyokai), chaired by n o n e o t h e r than the minister of the Imperial Household, extended its concern for "bettering" entertainment beyond theatre to include music, dance, a n d storytelling. O t h e r voices were raised as well. Literary scholar (and f u t u r e playwright) Tsubouchi Shoyo (1859-1935) argued that emphasis should be placed on dramaturgical issues, such as the ideal of poetic justice. Concerned with the theatre's development as an art form and not a classroom, Shoyo was also disturbed by what he d e e m e d an u n d u e stress on using the theatre as a tool for appropriate moral instruction. Novelist Mori Ogai (1862-1922), back f r o m a stay abroad, called for theatre to be separated into musical a n d nonmusical forms. Shoyo, Ogai, education leader Fukuzawa Yukichi (1834-1901), and others held widely divergent views, however, and the various reform organizations achieved little. Overall, the p e r f o r m i n g style of the traditional repertory was little affected by the reformers' zeal; kabuki's artistic patterns (kata) proved extremely resistant to change. Traditional plays continued to be p e r f o r m e d using the conventionalized sets, makeup, costumes, offstage geza music, dance, mie a n d other poses, a n d powerful elocutionary styles that had been perfected during the Tokugawa period. These techniques are the most recognizable and best-loved features of kabuki today. Traditional conventions were deliberately d r o p p e d only in the "new," or shin, kabuki plays composed in the twentieth century; an example is Shoyo's A Sinking Moon, translated in this volume a n d discussed later. T h e technique ofjuxtaposing m o d e r n elements against established traditions is c o m m o n to plays of this period. The Woman Student a n d Sakai's Drum directly reflect the modernizing mania, the first in its frank c o n f r o n t a t i o n with g e n d e r issues, the latter in its spirit of historical authenticity. Even in the plays set during the Tokugawa period, such as Shinza the Barber and The Fishmonger Sogoro, there is a certain psychological realism in action and dialogue that was rare or did not exist in pre-Meiji-period plays. These dramaturgical changes matched kabuki's new social position and the changing attitudes of audiences. Of course, the direction of reform was toward a more respectable, conventional, and commercial art. In the process,

INTRODUCTION

7

kabuki's old-time intimate relationship with its commoner, largely merchant-class audience was disrupted; in future decades, kabuki would b e c o m e m o r e and m o r e a standard-bearer f o r Japanese high culture. In o r d e r to create a new audience f o r kabuki, theatre architecture was "mode r n i z e d " (i.e., increasingly Westernized) and theatres were located in better-quality neighborhoods. A m a j o r goal of the Society f o r T h e a t r e R e f o r m in 1886 had been the construction o f a European-style theatre that would be a showcase and m o d e l f o r future theatre architecture. A detailed design was commissioned and completed, but the building was not realized; the first wholly Western theatre, the Teikoku G e k i j o (Imperial T h e a t r e ) , was built a quarter o f a century later, in 1911. A t the b e g i n n i n g o f the M e i j i period, regulations governing the number and location of theatres w e r e liberalized ( n e w taxes and licensing fees were also i m p o s e d o n m a n a g e m e n t s ) . T h e g o v e r n m e n t officially r e c o g n i z e d the previously oppressed small theatres (koshibai)

in 1872, and within a year seven—some with distinguished

antecedents—had o p e n e d , several in new neighborhoods. A t first the Meiji governm e n t divided theatres into large and small theatres, similar to categories applied during the Tokugawa period. This distinction was soon abandoned. T h e new regulations allowed the three major theatres, c o n f i n e d since 1841 to Asakusa's Saruwakacho district, to move to m o r e central Tokyo districts. N e w kabuki theatres were soon operating in Azabu, H o n g o , Kyobashi, Ginza, Mita, Shiba, Yotsuya, and other upscale neighborhoods where managers felt they could attract a better-educated audience. Twenty-two theatres were allowed under the Revised Policies f o r Theatre Regulation ( G e k i j o Torishimari Kisoku Kaisei) o f 1890, clearly divided into ten large and twelve small theatres. Perhaps the most important o f the small theatres built under the new regulations was a theatre that o p e n e d as the Azuma-za in Asakusa in 1887 and b e c a m e the Miyato-za in 1896. O f the traditional large theatres, the venerable Nakamura-za, still in Asakusa, burned down in 1893 and was not rebuilt, ending the career o f the city's oldest kabuki theatre. T h e Ichimura-za, despite a move to Asakusa's Shitaya section in 1892, declined greatly in its reputation; destroyed by fire in 1932, it was not rebuilt. T h e most successful manager in the early M e i j i period was the last important hereditary theatre manager, Morita Kanya X I I , a man obsessed with ideas of Westernization. In 1872, he o p e n e d the Morita-za in central Tokyo's Shintomi-cho, near the

INTRODUCTION

Ginza—a bold move considered revolutionary at the time. Business difficulties forced him to a b a n d o n sole ownership for a joint-stock corporate structure in 1875 and to rename the theatre the Shintomi-za, thereby ending the Morita-za's long history. Fire destroyed the Shintomi-za in 1876, but it was rebuilt in 1878 with many Western features. By doing away with the traditional thrust stage, Kanya began the move toward the Western-style proscenium arch. He eliminated the d r u m tower (yagura) over the main entrance, symbol in Tokugawa times of the license to produce. Kanya placed armchairs before the stage for the comfort of foreign dignitaries, and he installed at great expense gas (later, electric) lighting that brought costumes and makeup into bold relief. T h e opening ceremonies of the Shintomi-za offered a brilliantly illuminated picture of Westernization (including the theatre's name spelled out in gaslights). Red carpeting covered the traditional pit seating. Over a t h o u s a n d invitees, including Prime Minister Sanjó Sanetomi, government officials, court nobles, foreign ambassadors, businessmen, and journalists crammed into the new building. Actors, theatre personnel—including leading playwright Kawatake Mokuami, then known as Kawatake Shinshichi II, 1816-1893—and teahouse proprietors in swallowtail coats greeted the audience. Instead of kneeling before the audience in the traditional fashion, the acting company stood or was seated on chairs, thus replacing Japanese with Western manners. T h e navy and army bands played march music, and Danjüró IX read a reformist speech—written by f u t u r e playwright and theatre manager Fukuchi Óchi (1841-1906)—declaring war on the "filth" of earlier kabuki and vowing to "clean away the decay." Among the European theatrical practices that Kanya introduced were evening programs (from 5:00 to 11:00 PM), a major departure from the daytime programs of the past. He eliminated the noisy barkers in f r o n t of the theatre, removed the traditional security guards at the entrance, rationalized ticket distribution a n d publicity, and got rid of the theatre's long-established financial backers

(kinshu),

whose interference outweighed their financial value. He tried also to limit the influence and n u m b e r of the old theatre teahouses (shibai jaya), with partial success. O t h e r theatres soon adopted many of these far-reaching changes. A continuous stream of important guests saw kabuki at the " m o d e r n " Shintomi-za, including

INTRODUCTION

9

P r i n c e H e i n r i c h of G e r m a n y , King Kalakaua of Hawai'i, a n d t h e British g o v e r n o r of H o n g K o n g . To h o n o r a visit by f o r m e r P r e s i d e n t Ulysses S. G r a n t in 1879, Kanya c o m m i s s i o n e d M o k u a m i to write The Last Three Years of the Northern

Wars ( G o

S a n n e n O s h u G u n k i ) , an allegory of G r a n t ' s Civil War victories in which D a n j u r o IX played an e l e v e n t h - c e n t u r y J a p a n e s e h e r o m o d e l e d o n t h e A m e r i c a n visitor. Kanya's w h o l e s o m e t h e a t r e e n v i r o n m e n t was praised f o r p r o v i d i n g light a n d civilization to t h e n a t i o n . For a d e c a d e , t h e Shintomi-za was in all b u t n a m e t h e " n a t i o n a l t h e a t r e " t h a t early r e f o r m e r s h a d called f o r as a necessary p a r t of a m o d e r n society. (Nearly a c e n t u r y w o u l d pass b e f o r e t h e N a t i o n a l T h e a t r e of J a p a n [ K o k u r i t s u G e k i j o ] b e c a m e a reality in 1966.) So i n f l u e n t i a l was t h e Shintomi-za t h a t O s a k a ' s f a m e d Kado-za ( f o r m e r l y t h e Kado n o Shibai) was r e b u i l t in 1886 as its replica. T h e largest of t h e n e w kabuki t h e a t r e s were t h e two-thousand-seat Kabuki-za, e r e c t e d n e a r t h e Ginza, which o p e n e d in 1889 a n d s o o n eclipsed t h e Shintomi-za to b e c o m e t h e n a t i o n ' s f o r e m o s t kabuki showcase; t h e Meiji-za, built f o u r years later in t h e c o m m e r c i a l N i h o n b a s h i district; a n d t h e g r a n d i o s e Tokyo-za, which o p e n e d in 1897. T h e g r e a t size of t h e s e l u x u r i o u s s t r u c t u r e s was p e r h a p s n e c e s s a r y to m a i n t a i n c o m m e r c i a l viability, b u t t h e i r b r o a d stages, two o r t h r e e times t h e width of T o k u g a w a - p e r i o d t h e a t r e s , a n d vast a u d i t o r i u m s d e s t r o y e d t h e old t h e a t r e s ' intimacy a n d t h e traditional w a r m t h t h a t h a d existed b e t w e e n actor a n d spectator in t h e past. T h e legal distinction b e t w e e n actors at large t h e a t r e s a n d small t h e a t r e s was a b o l i s h e d in 1895. T h e revolutionary step of a b a n d o n i n g this distinction was partly a result of t h e c o n t r o v e r s y t h a t a r o s e w h e n D a n j u r o IX b a n n e d a c t o r Ichikawa E n n o s u k e I ( 1 8 5 5 - 1 9 2 2 ) f r o m l a r g e t h e a t r e s b e c a u s e E n n o s u k e h a d d a r e d to p e r f o r m in a small o n e . A f t e r 1900, all t h e a t r e s t h a t wished to c o u l d use k a b u k i ' s t r a d i t i o n a l draw c u r t a i n (hikimaku),

hanamichi, a n d revolving stage (mawari

butaij.

Smaller t h e a t r e s , such as t h e Hongo-za, which o p e n e d in 1873, were v e n u e s f o r p u p p e t - t h e a t r e narrative music (sujoruri), e p i c recitations (naniwabushi),

children's

kabuki (kodomo shibai), a n d p u p p e t - t h e a t r e p r o d u c t i o n s . T h e y were also used by t h e b u r g e o n i n g "new school" (shinpa) d o m e s t i c a n d martial d r a m a t r o u p e s that were b e g i n n i n g to c o m p e t e with kabuki. In 1894 t h e city of Osaka b o a s t e d a total of e i g h t e e n t h e a t r e s , old a n d new, which c o u l d b e u s e d by kabuki a n d by t h e shinpa t r o u p e s . T h e largest of these was t h e Osaka Kabuki-za, which o p e n e d in 1898.

INTRODUCTION

Seven of t h e plays t r a n s l a t e d in this v o l u m e h a d t h e i r first Tokyo r u n s in theatres built d u r i n g t h e Meiji p e r i o d , clearly indicating that a new era of kabuki prod u c t i o n was u n d e r way. F o u r of t h e plays—The Woman Student a n d t h e d a n c e plays The Demon Ibaraki, Benkei Aboard Ship, a n d Viewing the Autumn Foliage— p r e m i e r e d at t h e p a t h b r e a k i n g Shintomi-za. The Dropped Robe a n d The Mirror Lion were written a n d p r o d u c e d by F u k u c h i O c h i at t h e Kabuki-za, of which h e was c o f o u n d e r a n d m a n a g e r . T h e Haruki-za p r e m i e r e d Banzui Chobei, a n d it was t h e v e n u e f o r t h e Tokyo o p e n i n g of A Sinking Moon, which h a d p r e m i e r e d e a r l i e r in 1905 at O s a k a ' s old-line Naka-za. Tokyo's t r a d i t i o n a l t h e a t r e s p r o d u c e d only f o u r of t h e plays t r a n s l a t e d h e r e : Shinza the Barber at t h e Nakamura-za, The Fishmonger Sogoro at t h e I c h i m u r a za, a n d , w h e n t h e latter t h e a t r e was k n o w n t e m p o r a r i l y as t h e Murayama-za, Sakai's Drum a n d Two Lions. Many c o n c e r n e d professionals were excited by t h e m u s h r o o m i n g k n o w l e d g e of Western t h e a t r e a n d society a n d felt t h e r e was n o t h i n g s t r a n g e a b o u t i n c o r p o r a t i n g f o r e i g n materials i n t o new kabuki plays. An 1872 play at t h e N a k a m u r a - z a called The Echoing Sound of the Circus Whip ( O t o ni H i b i k u Kyokuba n o Kawamuchi) was a b o u t a W e s t e r n circus, i n t r o d u c e d W e s t e r n musical i n s t r u m e n t s , a n d h a d K i k u g o r o V playing a c h a r a c t e r n a m e d Giovanni. Also in 1872, k a b u k i ' s first two d r a m a t i z a t i o n s of Western l i t e r a t u r e — s e p a r a t e a d a p t a t i o n s of S a m u e l Smiles' 1864 English novel Self-Help—were staged in Kamigata. O t h e r kabuki plays inspired by foreign sources i n c l u d e d Robinson Crusoe, s e e n at Kyoto's Sakai-za in 1887, Victorien S a r d o u ' s Tosca, p r o d u c e d at t h e Kabuki-za in 1891, a n d Friedrich Schiller's William Tell and Victor H u g o ' s Hernani, b o t h staged at t h e Meiji-za in 1905. In 1879 Kanya v e n t u r e d an extravagant p r o d u c t i o n at t h e Shintomi-za of Humanity

and the World

of Money ( N i n g e n Banji K a n e Y o n o N a k a ) , b a s e d o n E d w a r d Bulwer-Lytton's d r a m a Money (1840). N o t only was an English plot s u m m a r y distributed to non-Japanese, b u t over thirty D u t c h m e r c h a n t s f r o m Y o k o h a m a were h i r e d to play f o r e i g n e r s in a gest u r e toward realism. But a u d i e n c e s were small a n d Kanya i n c u r r e d heavy debts, i n f l u e n c i n g h i m to r e t u r n to m o r e t r a d i t i o n a l plays in f u t u r e p r o d u c t i o n s . T h e "foreignness" of such p r o d u c t i o n s was t e m p e r e d by a d a p t i n g t h e Western stories a n d p l a c i n g t h e m in J a p a n e s e settings. Typical of t h e process was t h e way The Merchant of Venice was staged in 1885 at O s a k a ' s Ebisu-za. T h e d r a m a t i z a t i o n by

INTRODUCTION

Takeshiba Genzo (previously a n d later known as Katsu Genzo III, 1844-1912) was five removes from Shakespeare's original play: it was a dramatization of a serial novel taken f r o m a Japanese synopsis of Charles Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare for children. Given a fanciful kabuki title, A Time of Cherry Blossoms and a World of Money (Sakura Doki Zeni n o Yo n o Naka), the play was set in Tokugawa-period J a p a n , populated by standard kabuki merchants a n d officials, a n d featured the t h e m e of Buddha's mercy. While spectators were aware that the story was foreign, their experience was of a typical domestic drama (sewamono). Genzo's Shakespearean adaptation struck a chord with audiences; it was revived twelve times between 1885 and 1908. Toward the e n d of the Meiji period, kabuki actors began to p e r f o r m Shakespeare in direct translation. Sawamura Sonosuke I (1886-1924) played Julius Caesar wearing toga and sandals and speaking English at the Tokyo-za in 1907. As early as 1891 and again in 1899, touring British troupes p e r f o r m e d Shakespeare in Yokohama and Tokyo. In 1903, shinpa star Kawakami Otojiro (1864—1911) and his wife, Kawakami Sadayakko (1872-1946), returned from Europe to stage productions of Othello, Hamlet, a n d The Merchant of Venice, thus directly challenging kabuki's position. T h e Kawakamis had the distinction of being the first Japanese actors to study a n d p e r f o r m in E u r o p e a n d America a n d t h e r e f o r e experience Western theatre firsthand. Their performances abroad, which often displayed strong kabuki influences (Sadayakko had been a geisha), were the first hint given to the West ofJapan's traditional drama. Back in Japan, they brought their enormously successful Shakespeare adaptations to major cities, introducing them to large audiences, and making rival kabuki companies take notice. Sadayakko was not the first actress to p e r f o r m in public theatres in m o d e r n J a p a n . Although government edicts had b a n n e d women from public stages since 1629, t h r o u g h o u t the Tokugawa period women dancer-actors known as "play masters" (okydgenshi) had taught kabuki-style dance and had p e r f o r m e d kabuki plays in the women's quarters of high samurai households. In the late Tokugawa period and at the beginning of the Meiji period a relaxation of laws allowed female performers and even troupes to begin appearing in small theatres. When the samurai patrons of these female performers were dispossessed u n d e r the new Meiji laws, the women had to move to the provinces to find work or take u p other professions, just as no

INTRODUCTION

and kyogen actors were forced to do. Male choreographers active in the theatre also began to usurp their place as dance teachers. Although it was legal for actresses to appear on public stages in the new Meiji society, they rarely did so in kabuki. When Kanya XII staged Mokuami's new kabuki play, A Strange Tale of Castaways: A Western Kabuki (Hyoryu Kidan Seiyo Kabuki), at the Shintomi-za in 1879, he hired actors and actresses in a touring English troupe to perform in several scenes, but no Japanese actresses. In 1883, O n o e Kikugoro V included a group of professional geisha in the final dance scene of The Ise Dances and Love's Dull Blade, translated in Volume 2. And ten years later, Danjuro IX's two young daughters performed as the butterflies in the Kabuki-za's premier production of The Mirror Lion, translated in this volume (and illustrated by a woodblock print of the girls in their butterfly costumes with Danjuro). Yet even with such a famous actor-father as Danjuro, the girls' wish that one day they would become professional kabuki actors went unfulfilled. O n e important kabuki actress was Ichikawa Kumehachi I (previously Iwai Kumehachi, 1846-1913), the first woman to play female roles in both kabuki and m o d e r n drama. Kumehachi, who had been an okydgenshi, studied u n d e r a sequence of male kabuki actors, first appearing in public as a dancer and, sometime after 1858, making her acting debut in a minor theatre in Edo's Ryogoku district. Much of her career was spent in such small theatres. A talented performer, she was accepted in 1882 as D a n j u r o IX's pupil a n d took the n a m e Ichikawa Masunojo, eventually becoming Ichikawa Kumehachi in 1893. Popularly called "the female Danjuro," she took the name Morizumi Gekka to appear in modern dramas. In the 1880s and 1890s she was troupe head (zagashira) and played major roles at several new theatres, including the Misaki-za and Azuma-za. In August 1890, a police regulation noted that inasmuch as mixed casts of men and women were then performing at the Azumaza, this practice should be allowed, because foreigners would certainly ridicule "the extremely licentious custom of men dressing as women." A successor, Kumehachi II (d. 1918), did not live long e n o u g h to continue the tradition. Still, it was exceptional for a mixed cast to perform kabuki. In 1891, in the first and last production of the reform-minded company Seibikan, an actress danced in the kabuki classic The Barrier Gate (1784), translated in Volume 2. A school for

INTRODUCTION

actresses was attached to the Teikoku Gekijo when this elegant Renaissance-style edifice o p e n e d in 1911. A separate women's company, of which Kumehachi I was a member, was formed, and its actresses were also mixed with onnagata in the theatre's regular kabuki company, but the e x p e r i m e n t failed. T h e Teikoku Gekijo never became a successful p r o d u c e r of kabuki plays, but rather turned to other genres of theatre. Down until the present day, women have not replaced onnagata in traditional kabuki, although several all-women's troupes have now and then appeared on the scene. T h r o u g h o u t the Tokugawa period, playwrights had been forced to disguise the names of characters in history plays. For example, O d a Nobunaga was commonly called O d a Harunaga, as in The Picture Book of the Taiko (1799), translated in Volume 2. In a complete reversal of attitude, the Meiji government now advised playwrights to write "truthful" historical dramas so that children would not be confused by fictionalized names a n d events. Although in time such government "advice" would evolve into official police censorship, in the early Meiji period officials were relatively liberal regarding contemporary subject matter. O n e significant clause of the 1872 theatre regulations forbade any stage depiction of the emperor. As a consequence, the Meiji government's central policy of constructing a cohesive m o d e r n national identity (kokutai) based on reverence of the e m p e r o r as a living god was never directly dramatized on Meiji kabuki stages. Patriotic sentiments and support for the emperor would have to be conveyed through analogy, by dramatizing heroic samurai from the past; this, ironically, was essentially a continuation of Tokugawa practice. Just three playwrights wrote the twelve plays translated here: Kawatake Mokuami, Fukuchi Ochi, and Tsubouchi Shoyo. Each worked in an individual style, yet all were committed to the same f u n d a m e n t a l ends: the restoration and reformation of kabuki into an art that was consonant with Meiji ideals. Mokuami and Shoyo reformed kabuki's fictional repertory when they presented a presumably truer, but often imagined, past in newly written history plays (jidaimono). In other plays, Mokuami b r o u g h t reality to kabuki by dramatizing everyday Meiji-period domestic life. It can also be argued that Mokuami and Ochi were acting to restore kabuki's social and artistic status when they returned to the classical Japanese theatre arts that kabuki had been close to in its earliest days. Both reform and restoration

INTRODUCTION

m o v e m e n t s b r o u g h t c h a n g e to kabuki, the f o r m e r c o n c e r n e d with the new a n d the latter with the past. T h e age's p r e e m i n e n t playwright by far was Kawatake Mokuami. H e a u t h o r e d n i n e of this volume's twelve plays (perhaps o n e in every f o u r kabuki plays p e r f o r m e d d u r i n g the twentieth century was by M o k u a m i ) . H e was kabuki's most prolific playwright, writing with his assistants some 360 plays. As has been n o t e d , d u r i n g the early Meiji p e r i o d h e c o n t i n u e d to write plays set in the Tokugawa period, including this volume's Shinza the Barber, Banzui Chobei, a n d The Fishmonger Sogoro. It was still too early f o r p e o p l e to feel nostalgic a b o u t the past. T h e lives of the majority of workers, artisans, a n d petty m e r c h a n t s h a d n o t b e e n significantly altered. T h e s e plays represent a c h a r m i n g continuity, a kind of blissful i g n o r i n g of the present. T h e c h u r n i n g , nearly revolutionary political a n d social shifts taking place at the t o p of the social pyramid are scarcely visible, if at all, in these plays. Shinza the Barber is p e o p l e d with the thieves, scoundrels, a n d blackmailers that Mokuami, Tsuruya N a n b o k u IV (1755-1829), a n d S e g a w a j o k o III (1806-1881) h a d already m a d e familiar in such Tokugawa-period plays as Scarf ace Otomi (1884), Kasane (1823), The Three Kichisas and the New Year's First Visit to the Pleasure Quarter (1860), a n d The Ghost Stories at Yotsuya on the Tokaidd (1825), all translated in Volu m e 3. Shinza, the main character, is a thoroughly vicious con artist a n d kidnapper, s u r r o u n d e d by c o n f e d e r a t e s n o b e t t e r t h a n he. All are in frantic pursuit of money. Shinza's l a n d l o r d , who rescues the y o u n g girl Shinza has k i d n a p p e d , is himself a hard-nosed moneygrubber. H e exemplifies the values of a m e r c h a n t — r e s p e c t for money, sagacity, a n d p a t i e n c e — a n d owns a thick skin that enables him to e n d u r e endless insults without b e c o m i n g ruffled. These, of course, were the very qualities for which the samurai class h a d despised c o m m o n e r s . O n e might have expected that in the optimistic days of the early Meiji period, Mokuami would have provided a n u p b e a t e n d i n g . Instead, n o o n e r e f o r m s o r sees the errors of his ways, a n d the curtain closes on Shinza, his cronies, a n d the l a n d l o r d c o n t i n u i n g their avid pursuit of money. T h e well-known story of the brave c o m m o n e r (otokodate) who unflinchingly faces a p o w e r f u l a n d duplicitous samurai is the basis of this volume's o t h e r two traditional domestic plays by Mokuami. T h e otokodate was an i m p o r t a n t c h a r a c t e r type

INTRODUCTION

in Tokugawa-period kabuki because he represented the c o m m o n e r who was strong e n o u g h to challenge the samurai class (at least in drama). T h e title character in Banzui Chobei was a frequently dramatized otokodate. In Nanboku's The Execution Ground at Suzugamori, translated in Volume 3, Chobei is a reserved a n d sagacious protector of the young Gonpachi. Mokuami changes his character considerably in Banzui Chobei, portraying the hero first as confident leader of a gang of raucous townsmen and then as a doting father who grieves that he must leave his family. He is headstrong and unflinching when he challenges the duplicitous Lord Mizuno, and h e shows great courage when he knowingly walks into an ambush set for him in the bathhouse of Mizuno's mansion. In the play's final moments, almost naked a n d greatly o u t n u m b e r e d , he is attacked and slain, despite his fierce resistance. It is tempting to say that Chobei is reckless and self-indulgent, for in the interests of protecting his so-called otokodate h o n o r he leaves b e h i n d a grieving widow and a fatherless son. It can be argued that aggressive townsmen like Chobei appropriated the ethic of personal h o n o r f r o m their samurai rulers in o r d e r to fight against that overbearing class. This can be said as well of characters in earlier volumes, such as Danshichi a n d Boatman Sabu in Summer Festival: Mirror of Osaka, Gorozo in Gorozo the Gallant, and Soroku in The Tale of Shiroishi and the Taihei Chronicles [translated in volumes 1, 2, a n d 3, respectively]. Nonetheless, it is certainly ironic that this ethic, of relatively little use in a money-oriented culture, became such an impelling motive for so many c o m m o n e r heroes in drama. Mokuami shows himself to be steeped in the townsman's feudal morality when he writes scenes in which Chobei is as brave in battle a n d as steadfast in death as any samurai. Mokuami, who wrote The Fishmonger Sogoro near the end of his career, presents Sogoro as an otokodate who is not a leader like Chobei or Gorozo. When he learns the details of how his family's samurai lord has killed his sister on the basis of a false accusation of adultery, he vows, like any otokodate, to avenge himself against this evil samurai. But Sogoro is a recovering alcoholic who needs sake to gain the courage to physically threaten the lord. In the seriocomic scene translated here, Sogoro abandons his resolution to stay sober and d e m a n d s cup after cup of sake f r o m his long-suffering wife and servants. Once sufficiently inebriated and his sense of justice aroused, he becomes annoyingly quarrelsome and staggers out, despite all efforts to

INTRODUCTION

restrain him, to make a scene at the lord's mansion. Drunk and half asleep, he exposes to a sympathetic official the lord's criminal actions. Finally, Sogoro falls into a drunken stupor and is carried off, in a kindly fashion, by his samurai betters. It may be that this final scene, which shows a responsible official correcting an injustice with benevolence and discretion, reflects the Meiji ideal of the new government's role in society. Although Mokuami presents The Fishmonger Sogoro as a comedy, few kabuki plays are more scathingly critical of Tokugawa feudal arrogance and corruption. Certainly this play could not have been staged before the Meiji period. Kabuki playwrights, even in the twenty-first century, continue to place newly written plays in the Tokugawa past, just as Mokuami did in Banzui Chobei, Shinza the Barber, and The Fishmonger Sogoro. During the Meiji period, Mokuami, like all earlier playwrights, often placed present-day events on stage. As a protean dramatist, he was used to finding a proper balance among the varied sources and materials he called upon when constructing a play for his theatre's acting company. He drew from romantic fiction, storytellers' tales, no and kyogen, newspapers and magazines, and, as noted earlier, even Western literature. Like most creative playwrights and actors, he always added new elements to his work. He continued the process of "musicalizing" kabuki performance that he had begun in the thief plays (shiranami mono) he had perfected with actor Ichikawa Kodanji IV (1812-1866) in the late Tokugawa period. He called for shamisen background music (aikata) to play almost continually during dialogue scenes, added puppet-theatre-style sung narrative (takemoto) to scenes of high emotion, and devised moments in which characters sang or played musical instruments as a natural part of the action. This is quite different from the relative lack of music and the reliance on dialogue in the plays of Nanboku, Mokuami's predecessor and teacher. The thief plays themselves belonged to a new genre created in the late Tokugawa period over three generations byjoko III, Nanboku IV, and Mokuami. After 1868, kabuki playwrights did not find it strange to place on stage telegraph poles, wheeled rickshaws, or characters dressed in Western clothing and carrying umbrellas and pocket watches. Kabuki had always accepted and dramatized the life of the times as well as the historical past. Why should playwrights stop doing this simply because a government had changed and an emperor, not a shogun, was

INTRODUCTION

in power? Actors and playwrights continued to create "overnight pickle" (ichiyazuke) plays that dramatized the latest scandals and events of the moment. Something of the period's excitement can be seen in a few of the plays about current events that were mounted on kabuki stages in the first two decades of the Meiji period. For example, at the Shintomi-za in June 1875, Kanya staged an eight-act retrospective drama, The Meiji Years, an Eastern Diary (Meiji Nenkan Higashi Nikki), to celebrate eight years of the new imperial era. One act was devoted to each year. Another example of the Zeitgeist was an up-to-date treatment of Yajirobei and Kitahachi, kabuki's ever-popular bumbling travelers (drawn from Jippensha Ikku's picaresque novel A Shank's Mare Tour of the Tokaido [Tokaidochu Hizakurige (1802-1809)]). In A Shank's Mare Journey to Far India (Seiyo Dochu Hizakurige), produced at Tokyo's Murayama-za in August 1872, the two friends set out on a journey to India and other lands, where they cope with strange customs and unknown people. Unfortunately, its seemingly exotic appeal was not strong enough to draw crowds and it was withdrawn after two weeks. Actual events that inspired plays included the completion in November 1887 of the railroad line connecting Tokyo and Osaka. That same month, the management of Osaka's Kado-za celebrated the event by staging an eleven-act, twenty-four-scene kabuki extravaganza, Advance of the Tdkaidd Railroad (Tokaido Kisha Sakibiki). O n e of the best-remembered Meiji moments occurred in 1890, when an Englishman named Spencer advertised throughout Tokyo that he would make balloon ascents from the Museum Plaza in Ueno Park. People flocked to the northern part of Tokyo to see this daredevil act in which he performed aerial acrobatics, and the dance play Riding the Famous Hot-Air Balloon (Fusen Nori Uwasa Takadono) was staged as the final piece (ogiri) on the January 1891 bill at the Kabuki-za. Kikugoro V, a specialist in kabuki stunts (keren), played Spencer. A woodblock print portrays Kikugoro wearing a huckster's brown checked trousers, coat, and vest, sporting a waxed mustache, and holding tightly to the strings of a parachute with one hand. As he descends from the balloon, he doffs a small cap to spectators with his free hand. In the play, Kikugoro addressed the audience in English while suspended from the theatre's rigging: "Ladies and gentlemen. I have been up three thousand feet. Looking down, I was pleased to see you in this Kabuki-za. Thanks [sic] you. Ladies

INTRODUCTION

and gentlemen, with all my heart, I thank you." T h e play was enthusiastically received during its thirty-three-day run. In 1894, Danjuro IX appeared on stage with Theo, a visiting French actress, in The Mistaken Doctor (Hakase Chigai), adapted by Fukuchi Ochi f r o m a French comedy. A photograph shows Danjuro wearingjapanese formal dress but with his hair slicked back in Western style; he sits at a table opposite the French actress, who wears a Western gown and hat, while the background—seemingly painted on a drop—is that of a contemporary wood-paneled room. Like today's James Bond films, these plays were popular because of the exotic appeal of unknown foreign lands and people. Mokuami was able to look beneath the surface modernisms as he surveyed the theatrical potential of life in the new Tokyo. In 1870, only the third year of the new era, he wrote o n e of the first kabuki plays set in the postfeudal era, Pioneer Photographic Pictures of Actors (Sakigakete Shashin n o Yakusha-e). This short play, given at the Ichimura-za, satirized the craze a m o n g Tokyoites, especially kabuki actors, of having their pictures taken at the city's first photographic emporium. Photography was so popular it quickly replaced ukiyo-e as a means of illustrating kabuki plays. T h r e e years later, in The Tokyo Daily News (Tokyo Nichinichi Shinbun, 1873), Mokuami wrote a detective-murder story in which a m o d e r n journalist is the hero. This was the first long play in which Meiji-period life was squarely placed on stage, without apology or parody, and it is usually considered to be the first cropped-hair play (zangiri mono). Scholar Watanabe Tamotsu notes that in this a n d his later cropped-hair plays, Mokuami injected hitherto unknown ideas, emotional states, and language. Audiences easily accepted the novel ideas a n d unexpected emotional possibilities of the new society, but a "modern" kabuki language did not successfully emerge. T h e term "cropped-hair play" came into use to identify plays about contemporary life because, in 1871, a government regulation had advised citizens to cut their hair short in the Western manner, wear uniforms or informal clothing, and a b a n d o n wearing swords. T h e Meiji e m p e r o r cut off his topknot in 1873, thereby setting a seal of approval on the new hairstyle. Significant national events could now be put on stage immediately. In March 1878, for example, Kanya staged at the Shintomi-za a dramatization of the Satsuma Rebellion, which had e n d e d in the rebels' defeat just months earlier. Mokuami, the

INTRODUCTION

Shintomi-za's r e s i d e n t playwright at the time, provided stirring c o n t e m p o r a r y roles f o r D a n j u r o IX (as Saigo Takamori) a n d Kikugoro V (as Shinowara K u n i m o t o ) . T h e play's title, The Morning East Wind Clearing the Clouds of the Southwest (Okige n o K u m o H a r a u Asagochi), r e f e r r e d to southwestern Kyushu's Satsuma clan b e i n g overcome by the fresh breezes f r o m the eastern capital, that is, Tokyo. T h e scenes of m o d e r n warfare, with exploding artillery shells (simulated by fireworks) a n d gunfire, were a great success a n d e a r n e d Kanya a healthy profit. It was an extremely i m p o r t a n t step toward c o n t e m p o r a r y realism f o r so r e c e n t a historical event to be quickly d r a m a t i z e d , with all t h e historical n a m e s intact. T h a t same m o n t h , this highly theatrical event inspired a n o t h e r play a b o u t the rebellion, Narrative of a Southwest Dream (Seinan Yume Monogatari), p r o d u c e d at Osaka's Ebisu-za, with Jitsukawa E n j a k u I (1831-1885) in t h e lead role. To dramatize the "truth" was n o t without complications. M o k u a m i h a d b e e n ruthlessly pilloried in 1877 f o r writing The Story of Komon, A Lecture for Youth (Komonki Osana Koshaku). His aim h a d b e e n to p r e s e n t a "true" history of a f a m o u s seventeenth-century conflict, o n e scene of which depicts the m u r d e r of a n important m e m b e r of the Tokugawa family. D a n j u r o was praised for playing the h e r o , Mito K o m o n , exactly like that historical personage. But p r o m i n e n t scholar a n d governm e n t official Yoda Gakkai (1823-1909)—himself a dramatist—claimed that Mokuami h a d " d e f a m e d the h o n o r " of t h e Mito clan by suppressing "true" facts a n d i n c l u d i n g fictive actions. At t h e insistence of Gakkai—who was b o t h a distant relative of K o m o n ' s a n d a s t r o n g s u p p o r t e r of t h e a t r e r e f o r m — n e w s p a p e r s took u p the case, c h a r g i n g that M o k u a m i h a d n o business writing a b o u t history of which h e was obviously i g n o r a n t . A c o u r t suit was avoided only because the play soon closed a n d because Kanya abjectly p r o m i s e d that h e would n o t revive the o f f e n d i n g m u r d e r scene. We can well u n d e r s t a n d why Mokuami never wholly a b a n d o n e d the practice of c h a n g i n g historical figures' names. Within days of J a p a n ' s victories in the Sino-Japanese War in the fall a n d winter of 1894, six kabuki theatres in Tokyo a n d Kyoto m o u n t e d newly written cropped-hair plays to celebrate these exciting events. To capitalize o n the war fever, in O c t o b e r the Kabuki-za, which closed d u r i n g the war, hastily m o u n t e d Ochi's six-act Flag of the Rising Sun, Always Victorious on Land and Sea (Kairiku R e n s h o Asahi n o Mihata).

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Starring Danjuro and Kikugoro but under-rehearsed, it proved to be the only artistic and commercial failure a m o n g the many shinpa and kabuki war dramas that year. A decade later, battlefield victories in the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905) were also immediately dramatized for kabuki performance. War dramas were highly topical, of course, of interest one day but forgotten the next. Rarely were these cropped-hair plays revived, and n o n e have entered the standard kabuki repertory. Soon shinpa would become the preferred genre for portraying the daily life a n d national events of the early twentieth century. Mokuami was deeply interested in, and very skilled at writing about, people caught u p in the stressful life of the times. His cropped-hair plays are directly linked to the era's powerful reformist impulses. Individual f r e e d o m of choice was a new ethical concept learned f r o m the West. Liberal and democratic social structures based on individualism were competing head-on with deeply e n t r e n c h e d feudal ideals that had not disappeared simply because the old political system had been a b a n d o n e d . Since the traditional kabuki repertory was a p r o d u c t of the feudal period, drastic changes in the drama seemed necessary before the theatre could become an appropriate art for the new Japan. This was the argument m a d e by the Society for Theatre Reform: new dramatic themes a n d m o d e r n p e r f o r m i n g techniques seemed to be called for, but it was unclear how this was to be accomplished. The Woman Student is a m o n g Mokuami's finest cropped-hair plays, revived some half a dozen times since its premier in 1877. In it the playwright examines with remarkable objectivity h u m a n motives and behavior that are strikingly at variance with those of the Tokugawa past. Written for Kikugoro V and Ichikawa Sadanji I, it was staged at the Shintomi-za at a time when that theatre was at the f o r e f r o n t of theatrical innovation. T h e play follows the life of Oshige, a young woman who disguises herself as a man named Shigeru in order to receive a university education that will prepare her for a professional career. T h e action of the play bursts with surface evidence of Westernization, f r o m bowler hats and telegrams to eating beef and carrying cloth umbrellas. Its characters, too, were easily recognized f r o m real life: the f o r m e r samurai floundering in the new society, the enterprising merchant, and the industrious student dreaming of a bright future through a m o d e r n education. Mokuami's

INTRODUCTION

play reflects the clash of competing moral systems that so occupied reform-minded Japanese. He portrays Oshige as a divided soul (who, incidentally, does not recognize her own divided nature). On the o n e hand, she is resolutely individualistic, a free a n d i n d e p e n d e n t citizen who single-mindedly pursues training for a public career, an exceptional choice for a woman and only possible in a new, "enlightened" society. On the other hand, she steals a large sum of money for her father's sake a n d takes into her own hands the responsibility of avenging her father's murder. She is willing to sacrifice her career a n d risk her life because she holds a d e e p sense of filial piety rooted in the old, discredited feudal morality. Finally, it is suggested that Oshige's crimes will be dealt with leniently u n d e r the new legal system representing the public face of Meiji society. Oshige's life moves in contradictions. She aspires to a professional career, but only m e n may pursue an education to prepare for such a career. She shows daring and resolution to maintain her masculine disguise, yet she abandons her educational goal, almost without struggle, when bureaucrat Masamichi wants her as his mistress. Perhaps she is following "modern logic" when, realizing that she has no defense against Naojiro's blackmail threat, she calmly accedes to his d e m a n d for sex. Mokuami should be credited for his honesty and perception in creating a woman who, it seems, accurately reflects the numerous contradictions that existed between the old a n d new societies. It is interesting that a n o t h e r kabuki play on a similar theme, The Nature of a Modern Female Apprentice (Tosei Shosei Katagi), was playing in Osaka a n d Kyoto the same year starring Ganjiro I. Based on a plot by Tsubouchi Shoyo, its characters included a m o d e r n police detective as well as a Chinese f r o m Nanjing and an Englishman, reflecting the Japanese people's newfound delight in their ability to meet people from different cultures. Typical of cropped-hair plays that Mokuami wrote for Kikugoro V, The Woman Student continues many of the complex features of traditional kabuki dramatic construction and writing style. As is usual in long, multiact plays, Mokuami introduces essential information several times for those audience members whose attention has been distracted by eating or a trip to a theatre teahouse. An important dramatic incident, such as Naojiro's seduction of Oshige in Act I, is both enacted a n d then later described through monologue, ostensibly for the benefit of a n o t h e r character but

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also to interpret the significance of the event. Mokuami also continues to use old kabuki devices such as long monologues supported by offstage shamisen music, sounding the ki to signal the end of a scene, beats of the tsuke, a stylized offstage drum pattern to indicate water (nami no oto), formal curtain tableaux, and rhythmic dialogue divided among several characters (watarizerifu and kuriage). The playwright changed his name to Mokuami from Shinshichi II in November 1881 at the Shintomi-za when his last important and most often revived cropped-hair play, Island Plovers and Moonlit Waves (Shima Chidori Tsuki no Shiranami, trans. Keene 1956), was presented. Interestingly, this work continues the old thief-play tradition despite its being set in the Meiji period. Kikugoro V, who appeared in nine cropped-hair plays, was the most important actor in the genre. Versatile and with a penchant for the spectacular, he relished new roles that challenged his imagination. At the actor's urging, Mokuami wrote for him such diverse roles as the balloonist Spencer, the double character Oshige/Shigeru in The Woman Student, and the thief Shimazo in Island Plovers and Moonlit Waves. In other cropped-hair plays he showed his versatility by convincingly portraying such varied roles as a geisha, a rickshaw man, a stationer, a murderess, and a policeman. Cropped-hair plays were grounded in contemporary reality—that is, they were the latest type of sewamono, and they appeared on playbills as the second piece (nibanme), the usual place for domestic plays. Kikugoro's acting was noted for its psychological realism, especially when compared to the formal acting style that had evolved in traditional history plays. But he did not share Danjuro's interest in creating a new acting style, and despite his cropped-hair roles, his ideas were considered superficial and he was judged to be less innovative than Danjuro. Kikugoro cherished the skills of the traditional actor; in his productions he preserved the mie, background music, the tsuke, and other aspects of conventional stagecraft. In welcoming new role types and dramatic themes while preserving traditional acting styles, Kikugoro again showed himself to be Danjuro's opposite. During the first twenty years of the Meiji period, Danjuro IX devoted himself to the improvement and modernization of kabuki art. Perhaps because he was the fifth son of Danjuro VII, without any expectation of inheriting that illustrious name, as a young man he developed an original and independent view of kabuki's future.

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H e worked strenuously to present history plays in a truthful, realistic manner. That m e a n t tossing out the false bombast and stylization that h a d encrusted traditional history plays. Although Danjuro was greatly inspired by the Ministry of Information's 1872 directives, m e n t i o n e d above, as early as 1871 h e had startled a Morita-za audience by walking offstage in a simple m a n n e r instead of making the usual grand exit. Rather than closing the curtain to the conventional pattern of accelerating ¿¿clacks, he used the so-called "woodless" (kinashi) sound of a clock chiming the hour. He wore real, rather than stage, a r m o r in warrior roles. Perhaps it delighted him to recall that his father h a d been punished for wearing real armor on stage during the Tokugawa period. He despised the pure white makeup (oshiroi) worn by traditional jidaimono heroes, a n d his use of natural makeup and realistic beards a n d wigs—a predilection that some critics mocked—was o n e of his first steps toward a more realistic acting style. More significantly, h e refused to act with the theatricalized poses a n d pauses (mie a n d omoiire) that were crucial to the traditional acting forms (kata). Seeking to infuse kabuki with "ancient practices a n d usages," Danjuro became an avid student of history, meeting monthly with scholars of the Antiquarian Society (Kyukokai), formed in 1883. Theatre reformers such as Yoda Gakkai encouraged his historical research. His portrayals of the great historical figures Tokugawa Ieyasu, Taira Shigemori, and Saito Sanemori were subdued and deliberately antitheatrical. Noting Danjuro's historically accurate costume in the latter role in an October 1878 performance, the journalist Kanagaki Robun (1829-1894) coined the phrase "living history" (katsureki) to describe Danjuro's efforts; the phrase, which originally h a d satirical overtones, stuck and became standard for referring to such work. In newsp a p e r cartoons a n d commentary, Danjuro was ridiculed for carrying out pedantic research into the past, which, it was said, had n o connection to the aims of dramatic art. Danjuro followed a noble aim in attempting to reform kabuki performance. In sloughing off the old conventions, he was attempting to create a new kind of kabuki that corresponded with the concepts of realism a n d psychological truth entering f r o m the West. T h e living-history, or katsureki, movement was essentially a collaborative effort of Danjuro a n d Mokuami. Most of the living-history plays they developed have been long forgotten, and less than a h a n d f u l are still p e r f o r m e d . One, translated in this

INTRODUCTION

24

v o l u m e , is M o k u a m i ' s Sakai's Drum. In t h e act t r a n s l a t e d h e r e , D a n j u r o IX ( t h e n G o n n o s u k e VII) played Tokugawa Ieyasu's chief strategist, Sakai S a e m o n . Following a brilliant b u t risky strategy, S a e m o n p r e t e n d s to be d r u n k , o p e n s t h e castle gates to t h e enemy, a n d , to p r o v e t h e g a r r i s o n ' s s t r e n g t h , beats loudly o n a battle d r u m . T h e enemy, f e a r i n g a ruse, withdraws, a n d Ieyasu is saved. Because t h e story c o n c e r n s t h e f o u n d e r of the Tokugawa s h o g u n a t e , censors f o r b a d e its dramatization d u r i n g t h e l o n g p e r i o d of Tokugawa rule. Consequently, a u d i e n c e s were e x t r e m e l y e x c i t e d to finally see Ieyasu a n d his g e n e r a l s o n t h e stage. T h e r e s o u n d i n g l y successful p r o d u c tion h e l p e d establish t h e r e p u t a t i o n of t h e soon-to-be D a n j u r o IX. T h e role of S a e m o n suited D a n j u r o ' s new, r e s t r a i n e d a c t i n g style. S a e m o n is u n a b l e to tell his c o m p a n i o n s t h a t h e has a p l a n to trick t h e e n e m y ; if h e does, t h e r u s e will fail. So D a n j u r o h a d to rely u p o n subtle, i n t e r n a l a c t i n g to h i n t his i n t e n t i o n s to his lord, Ieyasu. Called "gut" o r "internal" acting (hara gei), this b e c a m e D a n j u r o ' s hallmark a p p r o a c h . Unlike earlier jidaimono,

Sakai's Drum allows us to feel

a f a s c i n a t i n g psychological interplay b e t w e e n S a e m o n a n d Ieyasu, w h o u n d e r s t a n d s his r e t a i n e r ' s i n t e n t i o n , a n d b e t w e e n S a e m o n a n d H i k o e m o n , who, a l a r m e d by S a e m o n ' s seemingly casual a t t i t u d e , t h r e a t e n s to give t h e r u s e away. Sakai's

Drum

d e m o n s t r a t e s M o k u a m i ' s r e m a r k a b l e ability to grow a n d to c r e a t e new d r a m a t i c f o r m s . T h e a m b i e n c e of Sakai's Drum is u n l i k e t h a t of any o t h e r play in this series. C u r r e n t p e r f o r m a n c e s of Sakai's Drum i n c l u d e m a n y e l e m e n t s of traditional a c t i n g a n d s t a g i n g d e s i g n e d to b u i l d d r a m a t i c t e n s i o n — v i g o r o u s

hanamichi

e n t r a n c e s a n d exits, s o n g a n d c h a n t p e r f o r m e d by a n a r r a t i v e / s h a m i s e n

(takemoto)

e n s e m b l e , offstage s h a m i s e n music, a d r u m p a t t e r n t h a t conventionally indicates falling snow (yuki no oto), a n d s o u n d effects by tsuke a n d ki. S o m e of these t e c h n i q u e s may have b e e n a d d e d a f t e r D a n j u r o ' s t i m e , o r it may b e t h a t m a n y t r a d i t i o n a l m e t h o d s r e m a i n e d because D a n j u r o was only b e g i n n i n g to develop a new, m o r e realistic a c t i n g style. D a n j u r o w a n t e d to m a k e a new t h e a t r e ; in d o i n g so h e v e n t u r e d far in a d v a n c e of his a u d i e n c e s ' tastes. Critics h a d called his historical r e s e a r c h p e d a n t i c : what d o e s it m a t t e r how a s a m u r a i may actually have talked in 1200? A u d i e n c e s b e g a n to g r u m b l e t h a t living-history plays were boring, their action lifeless, a n d their l a n g u a g e a r c a n e . W h e n D a n j u r o e l i m i n a t e d k a b u k i ' s stylized a c t i n g t e c h n i q u e s , h e failed to

INTRODUCTION

25

replace t h e m with s o m e t h i n g equally powerful. His internal acting was too difficult a n d u n u s u a l f o r o t h e r actors to follow. For many a u d i e n c e m e m b e r s , a t t e n d i n g a living-history p e r f o r m a n c e provided a thin a n d d i m i n i s h e d theatrical e x p e r i e n c e . From 1886, h e practically a b a n d o n e d living-history plays. T h e later historical dramas in which h e p e r f o r m e d , almost all of t h e m by Fukuchi Ochi, were called "semi" katsureki because of their m o d i f i e d emphasis o n historical detail. In fact, of the tiny n u m b e r still p e r f o r m e d , the best known is a d a n c e play, Omori Hikoshichi, in which D a n j u r o played the e p o n y m o u s lead. H e p u t most of his e f f o r t in his last years into the standard repertory a n d a m o r e traditional style of acting. Teaming with Kikugoro V in t h e late 1890s, h e c r e a t e d such m e m o r a b l e p e r f o r m a n c e s that t h e era was affectionately known as the Dan-Kiku p e r i o d of kabuki. (Sadanji I's r e n o w n was n o t far b e h i n d , a n d the triad of D a n j u r o , Kikugoro, a n d Sadanji gave rise to a n o t h e r acronym: Dan-Kiku-Sa.) D a n j u r o a n d Kikugoro also eagerly walked t o g e t h e r a l o n g a s e c o n d p a t h that led to kabuki's artistic a n d social restoration. Working with M o k u a m i a n d his successor, Ochi, they starred in newly written d a n c e d r a m a s (buyd geki) based o n plays drawn f r o m classical no a n d kydgen. As n o t e d , r e f o r m e r s were deeply t r o u b l e d by the kabuki theatre's old r e p u t a t i o n as a disreputable, evil place. Six plays translated h e r e are examples of a sophisticated kabuki style i n t e n d e d to appeal to the e x p a n d i n g m i d d l e class a n d to intellectuals. T h e aim, as s o m e r e f o r m e r s p u t it, was a moral t h e a t r e that a family could a t t e n d . Both The Mirror Lion a n d Two Lions are c o l o r f u l kabuki displays of d a n c e virtuosity very loosely derived f r o m the extremely p o p u l a r no play Stone Bridge (Shakkyo). Benkei Aboard Ship a n d Viewing the Autumn Foliage are p o w e r f u l dramatic d a n c e d r a m a s based o n no plays of the same n a m e that deliberately f l a u n t e l e m e n t s b o r r o w e d f r o m the a n c i e n t g e n r e . The Demon Ibaraki is n o t based o n a no play, b u t was c o m p o s e d by M o k u a m i using no dramatic structure a n d c h a r a c t e r types: it is a kind of "faux no" creation that clearly indicates the interests of kabuki actors a n d playwrights in t r a n s c e n d i n g their inglorious past a n d moving to a h i g h e r level of artistic a n d social acceptance. Finally, The Dropped Robe is a kabuki music-and-dance version of the kydgen c o m e d y of the same n a m e . This a n d a n u m b e r of o t h e r plays derived f r o m kydgen (most of t h e m devised in the early twentieth century) are—despite their f o r m a l

INTRODUCTION

26

style—infected with a d e l i g h t f u l spirit of optimistic, c a r e f r e e j o k i n g , sprightly singing, a n d comic d a n c i n g . T h e s e kyogen a d a p t a t i o n s are the first full kabuki comedies a n d are distinctly different in t o n e f r o m the ribald banter, clever word play, p u n s (share), a n d black, even grotesque, h u m o r of "pure" (jun or junsui) kabuki plays of p r e m o d e r n times. A m o n g the most obvious no a n d kyogen elements a b s o r b e d into these new d a n c e plays are a two-part d r a m a t i c s t r u c t u r e , with t h e m a j o r role b e c o m i n g t r a n s f o r m e d in the s e c o n d part; music, especially in the o p e n i n g , that emphasizes flute a n d drums; sliding steps (suriashi); highly formalized elocution; a n d c o s t u m i n g closely p a t t e r n e d o n the original. Rather t h a n using kabuki's simple striped draw curtain, o f t e n an elaborately woven d r o p curtain o p e n s a n d closes a play. And, in o r d e r to clearly show off their origins, a n u m b e r of the new d a n c e plays, i n c l u d i n g Two Lions, Benkei Aboard Ship, The Demon Ibaraki, a n d The Dropped Robe, use an austere setting that r e p r o d u c e s the plain wood planks a n d auspicious pinetree wall p a i n t i n g of a nd-kydgen stage, thus inspiring the t e r m matsubame

mono

(pine-board plays) for these works. It is fascinating that while D a n j u r o s o u g h t to minimize kabuki's conventional acting when h e p e r f o r m e d living-history plays, he was a willing p r o p o n e n t of r e f i n e d music a n d d a n c e in Benkei Aboard Ship, Viewing the Autumn Foliage, The Mirror Lion, a n d The Dropped Robe. H e could also rouse hilarity in such kyogen-der'wed works as The Handicapped Threesome (Sannin Katawa, 1898). Kikugoro was a r e n o w n e d d a n c e r whose role of the seductive old-lady-demon in The Demon Ibaraki a d d e d to his luster. Later, he d a n c e d in similar adaptations, such as The Angel's Robe ( H a g o r o m o , 1898), also a d a p t e d f r o m no. By d a r i n g to "steal" the ruling class' elite d r a m a , D a n j u r o a n d Kikugoro were d o i n g m o r e than merely appropriating the high art of no a n d kyogen; they were dressing themselves in the dignified social status that accrued to these forms. It must have b e e n especially satisfying for the one-time outcasts to r u m m a g e in the samurai attic a n d h e l p themselves to choice objects as they pleased. D a n j u r o , seeking to restore s o m e t h i n g of the a u r a his family line h a d held in p r e m o d e r n times, established a collection of new w o r k s — t h e New Eighteen Famous Kabuki Plays (Shin Kabuki J u h a c h i b a n ) — i n which h e excelled. I n c l u d e d in the collection are the f o u r d a n c e plays m e n t i o n e d above in which h e was the star, as well as Sakai's Drum. Kikugoro

INTRODUCTION

27

made his own family grouping, the Collection of Ten Plays New and Old (Shinko Engeki Jusshu), which contains The Demon Ibaraki and other no-style dances created in the Meiji period, Bridge of Return (Modori Bashi, 1890), and The Angel's Robe. Perhaps as a sign that kabuki's heritage seemed threatened by the onslaught of modernity, other leading actors also made family collections. We need to recall that Okuni, who founded kabuki in the early seventeenth century, had been the toast of all social classes. She was free to perform where she wished, and it is recorded that she acted in the shogun's castle in Edo and possibly before the imperial family in Kyoto. The freedom of action Okuni enjoyed was denied her artistic successors when the Tokugawa regime enacted draconian measures designed to freeze all citizens within the unchanging social hierarchy of samurai, farmers, artisans, and merchants. From this system actors were completely excluded: they were literally "nonpersons" (hinin). And although star actors were idolized by their fans and earned what were sometimes enormous incomes, they enjoyed no official status. Confucian-minded shogunate officials despised kabuki, calling the theatres and the licensed quarters society's two evil places (akusho). Under the Meiji government, samurai no longer held a superior position, and all citizens, including actors, were proclaimed to be of equal rank. Theatres could be built, and actors could live, anywhere in the city. Kabuki's cultural position improved when—as mentioned earlier—the highest government officials, foreign dignitaries, and finally the emperor himself attended performances. Kanya's efforts to create a respected national drama had a strong impact on popular consciousness. Danjuro and Mokuami, later joined by Ochi and Shoyo, strove to replace the "filth" of old kabuki with morally uplifting plays and performances and with newly coined styles of acting and dramaturgy appropriate to a "civilized and enlightened" society. In 1889, Mokuami retired from active playwriting. It is said he was insulted when Ochi rewrote one of Mokuami's plays for the grand opening of the Kabuki-za that year. After that, Mokuami wrote only occasionally, and then just for Kikugoro. Although the Kabuki-za soon eclipsed the Shintomi-za as Japan's foremost kabuki venue, Mokuami refused to write for this important new playhouse (which remains Japan's foremost kabuki theatre). Ochi, who cofounded the Kabuki-za with financier Chiba Katsugoro (1833-1903), functioned as the theatre's manager and then as a

INTRODUCTION

28

r e s i d e n t playwright until r e t u r n i n g to politics in t h e early twentieth century. B e f o r e t u r n i n g to t h e t h e a t r e , h e h a d h e l d i m p o r t a n t posts in b o t h t h e s h o g u n a t e ( w h e r e h e served as an English-language t r a n s l a t o r a n d i n t e r p r e t e r ) a n d t h e Meiji governm e n t ( h e was elected to t h e H o u s e of Representatives in 1904). An active p a r t i c i p a n t in t h e theatrical r e f o r m m o v e m e n t , O c h i was familiar with E u r o p e a n a n d A m e r i c a n t h e a t r e practice as a result of his m a n y trips a b r o a d o n g o v e r n m e n t missions, a n d h e e x e r t e d c o n s i d e r a b l e i n f l u e n c e as p r e s i d e n t of t h e Tokyo Nichinichi Shinbun, an i m p o r t a n t newspaper. It was at his u r g i n g t h a t M o k u a m i d r a m a t i z e d Bulwer-Lytton's Money. With this b a c k g r o u n d , u n u s u a l in a kabuki professional, O c h i b r o u g h t a c o s m o p o l i t a n sensibility to t h e fifty-odd plays a n d d a n c e s t h a t h e wrote, mostly f o r t h e Kabuki-za. N o t n o t e d f o r his originality, h e excelled at writing a d a p t a t i o n s f o r kabuki f r o m o t h e r sources, such as C h i k a m a t s u M o n z a e m o n ' s p u p p e t plays. O n e of his m o s t significant works was A Chivalrous

Commoner and a Spring Rain

Umbrella

( O t o k o d a t e H a r u s a m e Gasa, later called Kyokaku H a r u s a m e Gasa, 1897), a d r a m a tization of an 1884 novel. D a n j u r o IX s t a r r e d as a c h a r a c t e r very similar to t h e T o k u g a w a p e r i o d ' s m o s t p o p u l a r kabuki otokodate h e r o , S u k e r o k u , b u t in a less r o m a n t i c i z e d , m o r e realistic p r e s e n t a t i o n . It n o t only h a d political implications in suggesting t h e n e e d to a b a n d o n class d i s c r i m i n a t i o n , it also p r o v i d e d D a n j u r o with a role t h a t d e m o n s t r a t e d his ability to i n t r o d u c e his katsureki realism to d o m e s t i c plays. O c h i b e c a m e h o u s e d r a m a t i s t (tate sakusha) at t h e Kabuki-za in t h e s a m e year, t h e first p e r s o n f r o m o u t s i d e t h e kabuki world to b e given this position. F r o m t h e t i m e of O c h i , t h e old a p p r e n t i c e system of t r a i n i n g playwrights within t h e t h e a t r e b e g a n to decline. Literary m e n w h o c a m e to kabuki f r o m elite, c o s m o p o l i t a n backg r o u n d s would write t h e majority of new plays h e r e a f t e r . Arguably, t h e r e f o r m m o v e m e n t saw its g r e a t e s t success w h e n these "outside" playwrights b e g a n to c o m p o s e "new" (shin) kabuki plays, as they c a m e to be called. A Sinking Moon, by T s u b o u c h i Shoyo, is c o n s i d e r e d o n e of t h e first significant shin kabuki plays. Of course, in every e r a playwrights h a d written new kabuki pieces. T h e t e r m "shin k a b u k i " specifically indicates a play written by an a u t h o r — i n t e l l e c t u a l , j o u r n a l i s t , novelist, scholar, o r d r a m a t i s t — w h o h a d n o t b e e n raised within t h e professional t h e a t r e world. Shoyo was a scholar, critic, a n d university p r o f e s s o r w h o loved kabuki, having f r e q u e n t e d t h e a t r e s f r o m c h i l d h o o d . At university, h e was a

INTRODUCTION

29

s t u d e n t of English, t a u g h t by A m e r i c a n a n d British professors. A slight m a n of p o w e r f u l d e t e r m i n a t i o n , in his later years h e established J a p a n ' s first m o d e r n actortraining academy, faithfully translated all of Shakespeare's plays, a n d b e c a m e an influential scholar of Western d r a m a . H e was an i m p o r t a n t p i o n e e r in i n t r o d u c i n g E u r o p e a n m o d e r n d r a m a , which came to be called "new d r a m a " (shingeki), to J a p a n . His translation of Julius Caesar in 1884 a n d his direction of The Merchant of Venice ax the Kabuki-za in 1906 were e p o c h a l events i n a u g u r a t i n g the fledgling new d r a m a m o v e m e n t . In 1928, h e organized the f a m o u s theatre m u s e u m at Waseda University, later n a m e d , in his h o n o r , t h e D o c t o r T s u b o u c h i M e m o r i a l T h e a t r e M u s e u m (Tsubouchi Hakase Kinen Engeki H a k u b u t s u k a n ) . Because of Shoyo's e r u d i t i o n , as well as his lack of e x p e r i e n c e as a kabuki professional, the plays that h e wrote f o r kabuki ( a n d those written by o t h e r outside a u t h o r s who followed h i m ) were quite unlike traditional examples. Shoyo's history plays were strongly i n f l u e n c e d by his a d m i r a t i o n for Shakespeare, whose genius in u n d e r s t a n d i n g h u m a n psychology deeply impressed him. Shoyo's first "new kabuki" play was A Leaf of Paulownia

(Kiri H i t o h a , 1894), a history play written f o r D a n j u r o

a n d Kikugoro. T h e y d e c l i n e d to act in it, p e r h a p s because t h e writing was so radical. It eventually r e a c h e d t h e stage in 1904, at the Tokyo-za. Ichikawa E n n o s u k e I, who played a m a j o r role in the premier, was impressed by the play's e r u d i t i o n . Realizing that h e n c e f o r t h actors n e e d e d to be properly e d u c a t e d in o r d e r to perf o r m in the new-style plays, h e sent his son to m i d d l e school, m a k i n g E n n o s u k e II (1888-1963) the first kabuki actor to have this level of e d u c a t i o n . A Sinking Moon, Shoyo's n e x t m a j o r effort, may be called the s e c o n d "new kabuki" play. Written in 1897, it was first p e r f o r m e d in 1905, p r e m i e r i n g in Osaka at the Kado-za a n d t h e n restaged in Tokyo at t h e Tokyo-za. Unfortunately, n e i t h e r play was able to showcase the talents of D a n j u r o a n d Kikugoro, as b o t h h a d died in 1903. A Sinking Moon is set inside Osaka Castle, the r e t r e a t of the Toyotomi clan survivors, in the final h o u r s b e f o r e the armies of Tokugawa Ieyasu raze the castle a n d kill Hideyori, the Toyotomi heir, a n d his followers. Hideyori's m o t h e r , Lady Yodogimi, has g o n e insane, an e c h o of t h e fates of O p h e l i a a n d Lady Macbeth. Shoyo couches his dialogue in h e i g h t e n e d , r e s o n a n t prose a n d conveys the anguish a n d

INTRODUCTION

30

i n n e r turmoil of the b e l e a g u e r e d d e f e n d e r s . A Sinking Moon r e p r e s e n t s a m a r k e d d e p a r t u r e f r o m the m o r e conventionalized structure of traditional kabuki plays. Shoyo moves the action rapidly forward to its terrible conclusion: the b u r n i n g of Osaka Castle a n d t h e d e e p e n i n g m a d n e s s of Lady Yodogimi. This action is staged a n d acted fairly realistically. C o m b a t between soldiers of the two armies consists of duels between scores of o p p o n e n t s , p e r f o r m e d in a h u r r i e d , staccato m a n n e r f o u n d in film sword fighting today, r a t h e r than in the formal, almost leisurely, p a t t e r n i n g of conventional kabuki fight scenes

(tachimawari).

Shoyo's text indicates traditional b a c k g r o u n d music f o r the o p e n i n g a n d closing of the curtain, b u t most p r o d u c t i o n s use natural s o u n d s a n d eschew percussion patterns of the ki woodblocks for the several scene changes. N o r is the action s u p p o r t e d by the traditional b e a t e n rhythms of the tsuke. As previously m e n t i o n e d , D a n j u r o h a d set the p r e c e d e n t f o r "woodless" curtains a q u a r t e r of a century b e f o r e , a small b u t telling indication that "new kabuki" was closely related in its aims to the living-history m o v e m e n t . W h e n Hideyori e n t e r s to g r e e t his m o t h e r , h e takes a h u m b l e , retiring position far in the b a c k g r o u n d at right, while she kneels down center, facing the a u d i e n c e . This g r o u p i n g dramatically expresses the scene's m e a n i n g , b u t it is at variance with traditional staging in which the p e r s o n of authority always takes the u p left position (examples of traditional positioning can be seen in p h o t o graphs of The Woman Student, page 172, a n d Banzui Chobei, page 225, in this volume). It seems paradoxical that while early Meiji r e f o r m e r s were l e n i e n t toward plays that dramatized sensational c o n t e m p o r a r y events, such as t h e adventures of a n e w s p a p e r detective o r of a b e a u t i f u l girl-student who cross-dresses, steals, a n d m u r d e r s , they critically scrutinized Mokuami's t r e a t m e n t of historical events, as in The Story of Komon. In hindsight, their a t t e n t i o n might have b e e n m o r e usefully d i r e c t e d to a n i m p o r t a n t p r o b l e m raised by c r o p p e d - h a i r plays: can traditional acting t e c h n i q u e s properly express m o d e r n J a p a n e s e lifestyles? By the late Meiji p e r i o d , as J a p a n ' s m o d e r n i z a t i o n accelerated, early c r o p p e d - h a i r plays that h a d b e e n excitingly up-to-date at their p r e m i e r s s e e m e d d a t e d a n d u n s u i t e d for revival. O n e u n i n t e n d e d c o n s e q u e n c e of this historical process of a b a n d o n m e n t is that kabuki increasingly b e c a m e identified with its pre-Meiji, traditional—that is, feudal—repertory. It is c o m m o n to decry Tokugawa society f o r its harshly rigid social

INTRODUCTION

structure, yet it was surely feudalism's cultural continuity that made it possible for plays written over a span of a century and three-quarters—from the 1700s to 1868— to remain current within a single dramatic repertory. For example, Sukeroku: Flower of Edo (Sukeroku Yukari no Edo Zakura, 1713; trans. Bowers 1952 and Brandon 1992) celebrates the Yoshiwara pleasure quarters, focuses on the search for a purloined heirloom, and has a hero who is simultaneously a historical figure from centuries earlier and a contemporary commoner who openly mocks a villainous samurai. These dramatic elements remained understandable and interesting to late Tokugawa audiences because social values and structures had scarcely changed in a century and a half. Mokuami was able to call on that social tradition in writing Shinza the Barber and Banzui Chobei. But when he wrote about contemporary Meijiperiod society in cropped-hair plays, this was no longer the case. Change had become the norm, which did not bode well for the survival of plays about contemporary life. Surface reality could not mask the lack of connection between the daily lives of the audience and the inner life of the dramatic action, even if that action was set in the present day. One could easily accept stylized acting in plays set in premodern times. Such acting and the dramaturgy that supported it, however, may have seemed alien to dramatic characters dressed in raincoats and bowler hats. As we have seen, the position of kabuki playwrights within the production system changed drastically during the Meiji period. Mokuami was the consummate house playwright, skilled at providing whatever plays the circumstances called for. He was adept at tailoring plays to the special talents of stars at the theatre where he was employed. He fashioned cropped-hair plays for Kikugoro, living-history dramas or matsubame dances for Danjuro, and thief plays for Sadanji. In the last decade of Mokuami's life, managers brought in scholars such as Yoda Gakkai to "advise" him. His authority was no longer absolute, and at the end of his life Ochi replaced him. At the Meiji-za in 1899, Sadanji I introduced The Intrepid Genta (Aku Genta), a play by critic Matsui Shoo (1870-1933), who then wrote a series of plays for Sadanji. After going abroad, Shoo was employed as a staff playwright, thus following the path of the educated outsider becoming professional kabuki playwright first trod by Ochi. The traditional resident playwrights greatly resented this intrusion and did what they could to sabotage their new rivals, without appreciable success. After Ochi and

INTRODUCTION

32

Shoo, i n d e p e n d e n t a u t h o r s such as O k a m o t o Kido (1872-1939), O k a m u r a Shiko (1881-1925), Hasegawa Shin (1884-1963), a n d Mayama Seika (1878-1948) provided many h u n d r e d s of new kabuki scripts for p e r f o r m a n c e . D u r i n g the Meiji p e r i o d , most kabuki p r o g r a m s consisted of t h r e e to five u n r e l a t e d plays, a p r o g r a m called midori, a practice b e g u n in Osaka d u r i n g the late Tokugawa years. A midori p r o g r a m is m a d e u p of choice acts f r o m long, all-day plays (toshi kyogen) t o g e t h e r with i n d e p e n d e n t s h o r t plays. T h e one-act d a n c e d r a m a s derived f r o m no a n d kyogen, such as Benkei Aboard Ship a n d The Dropped Robe, fit into this p r o g r a m m i n g structure very well. Occasionally, the eleven-act Treasury of Loyal Retainers ( K a n a d e h o n C h u s h i n g u r a , 1748; trans. Keene 1970 a n d B r a n d o n 1982) c o m p r i s e d a full p r o g r a m ; m o r e rarely still, Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees (Yoshitsune S e n b o n Zakura, 1747; trans. J o n e s 1993) or Sugaivara and the Secrets of Calligraphy (Sugawara D e n j u Tenarai Kagami, 1746; trans. Ernst 1959, J o n e s 1985, a n d Leiter 2000 [selected scenes]) was p r e s e n t e d as a n all-day p r o g r a m . All of this volume's plays were written for midori programs. A typical midori bill in the late n i n e t e e n t h century o p e n e d with a "first item" (ichibanme or dai-ichibanme), normally a multiact history play such as Sakai's Drum. A relatively short history or d a n c e play followed, called the "middle act" (naka maku) because of its position. The Demon Ibaraki, Two Lions, a n d The Mirror Lion p r e m i e r e d as m i d d l e acts. T h e n c a m e the "second item" (nibanme or dai-nibanme),

a domestic

play, o f t e n in several acts. At its p r e m i e r in 1877, the four-act c r o p p e d - h a i r play The Woman Student a p p e a r e d as the s e c o n d item o n a four-play p r o g r a m . T h e day's program e n d e d with a brilliant a n d often comic d a n c e finale (ogiri) designed to send the a u d i e n c e h o m e in a festive m o o d . The Dropped Robe p r e m i e r e d in the final position at the Kabuki-za in 1892. Viewing the Autumn Foliage is also usually placed last, in part because it is based o n a d e m o n play that traditionally concludes a five-play no program. If a longer play of t h r e e or f o u r acts was staged, the middle act or second piece could be d r o p p e d to a c c o m m o d a t e it. While the o r d e r of plays was generally set, a midori p r o g r a m o f f e r e d considerable flexibility. T h e d a n c e d r a m a Benkei Aboard Ship p r e m i e r e d as a s e c o n d piece, p e r h a p s b e c a u s e of the play's i m p o r t a n c e . Curiously, Banzui Chobei, a mixed history-domestic play in which the h e r o i c Chobei is a c o m m o n e r , was placed first o n the p r o g r a m w h e n it p r e m i e r e d . Like p r o g r a m s

INTRODUCTION

33

of classical music in Europe or America, midori programs were created to provide variety of mood and emotional experience, with no intention of thematically linking the selections. So important was the concept of programs with varied moods a n d tempi that an i n d e p e n d e n t dance finale commonly followed even a serious all-day play like Treasury of Loyal Retainers. As has b e e n noted, Kanya tried evening performances at the Shintomi-za in the 1870s. However, most kabuki performances through the Meiji period continued to be given in the afternoon. T h e twentieth century would see additional program arrangements. As kabuki's social prestige rose, so did the cost of production. Larger theatres m e a n t m o r e scenery had to be built. H u g e casts, often a h u n d r e d or more actors in a play, m e a n t producers had to buy additional costumes a n d wigs. (In the Tokugawa period actors owned their own costumes.) To attract a discerning clientele, very expensive silks were used, a n d stars expected to wear newly m a d e costumes for each role they played. T h e salaries of actors, who had become unionized in 1889, increased along with ticket prices, although a tiered system of taxation, instituted in 1875, took some of the actors' income away. T h e government began taxing theatre tickets at the time the Shintomi-za was built. Producers constantly struggled to match income to rising expenses, failed, and were chronically debt-ridden. For example, Kanya had to give u p control of his precious Shintomi-za because of his enormous debts. Also, by the e n d of the nineteenth century, the system of hiring actors for yearly contracts had broken down, so there was considerable flux as actors moved from j o b to j o b according to market demands. Moreover, the old system, in which a theatre offered five or six annual productions, gradually changed so that some of the smaller houses began to present eight or nine productions each year in the late 1880s, while a major theatre like the Kabuki-za started doing as many as ten productions annually early in the twentieth century. More production, of course, meant more expenses. In summary, it is important to recall what did not change during the Meiji period: actresses did not replace onnagata,

traditional p e r f o r m i n g techniques—

mie, geza music, sound effects, on-stage assistants—were not abolished, and such conventions as the hanamichi, kumadori makeup, the striped draw curtain, and narrative musical background remained. T h r o u g h o u t this era, progressive ideas competed

INTRODUCTION

34

with nativistic a n d conservative values. It is not strange that kabuki was affected in ways that, on the o n e h a n d , encouraged change and newness, and on the other hastened a fixing of the repertory a n d a hardening of traditional acting and staging methods. When the feudal system was abolished, the d o o r was o p e n e d for new social and artistic possibilities. This did not mean, however, that glorification of samurai ideals ceased. For example, when Genzo has decided to kill the child Kotaro out of feudal loyalty in The Village School (Terakoya, trans. Ernst 1959 and Leiter 2000), he grieves over this sacrifice in a well-known line: "It is painful indeed to serve o n e ' s lord" (Semajiki mono wa miyazukai).

W h e n D a n j u r o IX played Genzo in

October 1870, he changed the line so that it praised the child's loyalty: "This is what it is to truly serve one's lord" (Omiyazukae wa kokoja wai na). (During World War II, Japanese censors preferred the latter version because it glorified militaristic values.) Danjuro's living-history plays appealed to an audience segment that responded to his u n a b a s h e d portrayal of the virtues of J a p a n ' s great warriors of the past. As Komiya Toyotaka has pointed out, Meiji-period playwrights asserted even m o r e strongly than those of the Tokugawa period the importance of samurai values (bushidd). As has b e e n noted, the aims of restoration and reform may seem to be opposites, restoration harking to the past while reform looks to the future. Yet they are inseparably intertwined. It was because the Meiji political Restoration was so sweeping—and so successful—that reformers were able to imagine and attempt reformation of "old" kabuki to create a more m o d e r n theatre art. T h e new political landscape o p e n e d u p by the Meiji oligarchy was compatible with r e e x a m i n i n g theatre in ways that had been unimaginable during the Tokugawa regime. We have seen that many of the most obvious theatre reforms proposed by officials, scholars, a n d kabuki artists that focused on techniques of p e r f o r m a n c e were never seriously attempted. At the same time, playwrights strenuously pursued reforms in writing style a n d in dramatic materials a n d themes, most obviously in cropped-hair and living-history plays. Because of the Restoration, you could call samurai by their rightful names, open a kabuki theatre wherever you wanted, build as many theatres as the traffic would allow, and, within some limits, place on stage whatever event f r o m the past or present you wished. In the past there had always been individual samurai

INTRODUCTION

35

lords and lower samurai who flouted Tokugawa restrictions on kabuki and were avid theatre fans. In the new era, official policy supported kabuki; what had been aberrant behavior by a few became the desired norm of the many. Just as government had once suppressed theatre, government now restored confidence in kabuki as a drama worthy of attention by the highest dignitaries. And just as the Meiji oligarchy in part invented an imperial past that could be "restored," kabuki artists, too, partly invented a glorious past that might be restored. T h e freedom that kabuki enjoyed in the time of Okuni and her immediate successors was only partial and had lasted a mere three decades. When Danjuro IX, Kikugoro V, Mokuami, and Ochi created grand dance dramas out of no and kyogen plays in the Meiji period, they were restoring a past glory that never had existed. It is truly remarkable that lowly actors, who had been denied any status within Tokugawa society, were able to transform themselves in the Meiji period into a genuine artistic aristocracy that continued to gain near-universal respect, while their all-powerful rulers, the shoguns and daimyo, disappeared forever. T h e parameters for kabuki as it exists in the twenty-first century were set during the Meiji period. Preservation of tradition is constantly being balanced against impulses toward newness and creativity. Actors work within the artistic traditions (ie no get) of a dozen important families, thus preserving and passing on core performance techniques with little change. At the same time, knowledge of Western realistic acting subtly penetrates the work of the best young actors. Even more, the boundaries of kabuki are tested by the "Super Kabuki" productions of Ichikawa Ennosuke III (b. 1939), which utilize recorded modern music, among other innovative techniques. T h e current dramatic repertory also balances tradition and modernity. Most plays on a midori program are well-established classics, many translated in this series, which were created during the Tokugawa and Meiji periods and since then have been revived scores or even hundreds of times. A program can also include one or two Meiji shin kabuki plays, among which the dance plays translated in this volume are extremely popular. Less often performed are shin kabuki plays written in the Taisho ( 1 9 1 2 - 1 9 2 6 ) orShowa ( 1 9 2 6 - 1 9 8 9 ) periods. You might also s e e t h e premier of a shin kabuki play written in the twenty-first century. All kabuki theatres change

INTRODUCTION

36

their bill monthly, so in a year's time as many as two h u n d r e d different plays can be seen. Now that kabuki is nationally and internationally acclaimed, its restoration has been carried beyond the imagination of those Meiji visionaries who saw greatness in a despised popular theatre. Some will say that the hold of tradition is now too powerful, that kabuki is, as its m o d e r n detractors say, a stale museum piece. It is also possible that in the future kabuki will confound the expectations of its admirers and detractors alike by moving in directions not yet known or even imagined.

One-panel woodblock print by Utagawa Kunisada i (later Utagawa Toyokuni III, 1786-1864). Ichimura-za. Edo. third month l8-40.The red-maned lion ("Ichimura Uraemon' XII), top. and the white-maned Lion ("Nakamura Utaemon" IV), bottom, brandish peony branches in a dynamic heaven-earth pose (tenchi mie) before a setting of snow-dusted peony blossoms,The cartouche reads, "Snowy Stone Bridge, the Twelfth ofTwelve Months." Except for different colored flowing manes, the lions are identically dressed in boldly patterned purple costumes fringed with flying tassels, soft, black obi. and large flower headdresses. (Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum ofWaseda University)

Two Lions Ren Jishi Kawatake Mokuami (text); Kineya Shojiro III (music); Hanayagi Jusuke I (choreography) TRANSLATED

1872

BY P A U L M. G R I F F I T H

M U R A Y A M A - Z A. T O K Y O

Two Lions INTRODUCTION

Two Lions is one of several kabuki dances loosely based on the no play The Stone Bridge (Shakkyo). The form in which we see Two Lions performed today, however, is far closer to no than was originally the case. This will become clear when we examine the three main stages in its evolution. The lyrics were written by Kawatake Mokuami (then Kawatake Shinshichi II, 1816-1893) for a dance recital performed at the Nakamura-ro restaurant in Ryogoku, Edo, in the fifth month of 1861. The recital marked the name succession (shumei) of Hanayagi Yoshijiro, son of the wellknown dance master HanayagiJusuke I (1821-1903); father and son danced the lead roles of the two lions to Jusuke's choreography. The music was by Kineya Katsusaburo II (1820-1896). As one might expect from such a dance recital, this early version was on a less ambitious scale than the work with which we are now familiar on the professional kabuki stage. It was performed in front of simple golden screens without costumes or makeup (a style called suodori), the dancers being dressed only in formal black kimono and hakama. The dance contained no comic interlude (aikydgen), was quite short, and placed emphasis on the story of the lion cub's training by its parent, a theme ideally suited to this name-taking context. Two Lions appeared on the kabuki stage for the first time eleven years later at the Murayama-za, in July 1872. The theatre's long play that month, Great Spring Tide in the Bay of Naniwa (Naniwagata Irie no Oshio), proved to be a rather dull piece in serious need of an energetic boost in performance. After consulting with Jusuke, who continued his role as choreographer, Mokuami decided to rewrite certain sections of the 1861 piece and expand the dance sequences. He placed this new version of Two Lions in the fourth act of Great Spring Tide, where it functioned as the entertainment at a banquet attended by other characters. The two male characters who had appeared in the first section of the original version were rewritten as no actors named Kanze Suinojo and Muro Shinnojo, and the music was newly composed by Kineya Shojiro III (1828-1896). Today, both Katsusaburo's and Shojiro's music for Two Lions are performed, Katsusaburo's composition being known as Baba Ren and Shojiro's composition as Seto Ren, after the areas of Tokyo in which they lived. It is Shojiro's music, however, that is usually heard in kabuki. After 1872, the work appeared several other times in different guises and under different names. Finally, in February 1901 at the Tokyo-za, a noticeable shift was made in the direction of the no theatre when it was restaged on a set that

TWO

LIONS

replicated no's pine-tree-painted-on-boards backdrop, thus making the d a n c e a matsubame mono. A n u m b e r of cuts were m a d e to the first section, a n d the two principal characters were altered, respectively, to an e l d e r a n d y o u n g e r no actor n a m e d U k o n a n d Sakon, U k o n b e i n g d a n c e d by Ichikawa E n n o s u k e I (1855-1922) a n d Sakon by Ichikawa S o m e g o r o IV (later M a t s u m o t o Koshiro VII, 1870-1949). As in no's The Stone Bridge, the final a p p e a r a n c e of the lions' spirits was given greater p r o m i n e n c e , a n d , in k e e p i n g with the no-inspired set, their costumes were based o n those in The Stone Bridge. In o r d e r to give the actors the necessary time to change, the comic interl u d e "Theological Dispute" ( S h u r o n ) was inserted. Two Lions thus b e c a m e a n indep e n d e n t d a n c e whose two parts were separated by a comic i n t e r l u d e , like a no play. T h e "actors" U k o n a n d Sakon were specifically described as kyogenshi, an appellation that has given rise to s o m e c o n f u s i o n . Kyogenshi (or okyogenshi)

can

e i t h e r m e a n an actor of kyogen plays o r an Edo-period actor-dancer who e n t e r t a i n e d a n d instructed serving ladies at the m a n s i o n of a feudal lord. However, n e i t h e r definition seems satisfactory h e r e because U k o n a n d Sakon are n o t dressed in typical kyogen costumes, n o r d o they p e r f o r m in a way that even remotely resembles kyogen. Moreover, as this v o l u m e ' s i n t r o d u c t i o n p o i n t s out, the e n t e r t a i n e r s invited to m a n s i o n s were usually w o m e n . For this translation, t h e r e f o r e , the generalized term "actor" has b e e n a d o p t e d . Two Lions, t h e n , was a d a p t e d as a matsubame mono only in the last stage of its evolution, a n d well a f t e r Mokuami a n d Shojiro h a d died. This late c h a n g e followed an already established fashion for works that v e n e r a t e d the m o r e h i g h b r o w no by copying e l e m e n t s of that p e r f o r m a n c e tradition. (For earlier examples, see this v o l u m e ' s Benkei Aboard Ship a n d The Dropped Robe.) It is easy to s p e c u l a t e why E n n o s u k e I in particular would have a p p r o v e d o r even instigated such a c h a n g e , f o r h e himself h a d o n c e b e e n cast o u t of m a i n s t r e a m kabuki by Ichikawa D a n j u r o IX (1838-1903) f o r d a r i n g to p e r f o r m the first matsubame mono of t h e m all, The Subscription List (Kanjincho, 1840; trans. Scott 1953 a n d B r a n d o n a n d Niwa 1966) witho u t D a n j u r o ' s permission. As a n actor who b e g a n his career as a m e r e disciple, h e u n d o u b t e d l y wanted to share in whatever prestige »¿»-inspired works could l e n d him. However, Two Lions differs substantially f r o m o t h e r matsubame mono. It is true that the general t h e m e of lion d a n c e s in kabuki does owe m u c h to no's The Stone Bridge, a n d in Two Lions the lyrics for the final "mad" (kurui) section are lifted directly f r o m the no work. T h e title Ren Jishi itself, m e a n i n g "linked" (ren) "lions" (shishi), derives f r o m the notes o n p e r f o r m a n c e (kogaki) f o r o n e no version in which two lions appear, o n e with a red wig a n d the o t h e r a white o n e . But this is only o n e of several alternatives possible in no, a n d it is i m p o r t a n t to n o t e that in The Stone Bridge the lions d o n o t r e p r e s e n t a p a r e n t a n d its cub. I n d e e d , t h e r e is n o hint

TWO

LIONS

of the story, so central to the kabuki dance, a b o u t the p a r e n t kicking its c u b into the ravine as p a r t of its strict u p b r i n g i n g . This tale a p p e a r s to c o m e f r o m p o p u l a r folklore r a t h e r t h a n f r o m religious or theatrical tradition. F u r t h e r m o r e , no actors wear s h o r t e r lion wigs a n d d o n o t swing t h e m vigorously a r o u n d t h e body, which is such a p o p u l a r f e a t u r e of kabuki lion dances. W h e n considering the origins of Two Lions, t h e r e f o r e , o n e must look a little f a r t h e r afield. In a historical context, t h e r e is n o satisfactory English translation of shishi. In this translation a n d in that of The Mirror Lion, also in this volume, the term "lion" is used with r e l u c t a n c e a n d only because t h e r e simply is n o o t h e r choice. T h e creat u r e portrayed in kabuki, however, s h o u l d n o t be mistaken f o r a n African lion, b u t is instead a complicated a m a l g a m a t i o n of various animal images s t e m m i n g f r o m Buddhist a n d Taoist iconography as well as f r o m indigenous J a p a n e s e folk traditions. O n e such tradition involves the a n c i e n t belief in the divine n a t u r e of deer. Local dances, p e r f o r m e d in J a p a n ' s n o r t h e a s t a n d called shishi odori, f e a t u r e d e e r r a t h e r t h a n the lionlike c r e a t u r e later assimilated f r o m a b r o a d . In J a p a n e s e , shishi can also r e f e r to meat, o r m o r e particularly to various kinds of game, such as d e e r o r even wild boar, whose m e a t is eaten. T h e s e native shishi dances took o n a quasi-religious significance involving purification a n d exorcism, as well as the calling down of g o o d f o r t u n e . With B u d d h i s m ' s arrival, it seems likely that such i n d i g e n o u s traditions b l e n d e d with t h e f o r e i g n imports. A c c o r d i n g to Buddhist tradition, the shishi was a lionlike ( t h o u g h still essentially imaginary) beast that was a disciple of the B u d d h a , a n d it was shown in pictures reclining at the B u d d h a ' s f e e t o r else s u p p o r t i n g the seated B u d d h a . Consequently, t h e p h r a s e "Lion T h r o n e " (Shishi no Za) in the final line of the lyrics actually refers to the seat of the B u d d h a himself, a l t h o u g h in the c o n t e x t of this d a n c e it may be r e i n t e r p r e t e d as the t h r o n e of the king of beasts. T h e shishi also c a m e to be associated with t h e deity M o n j u (Sanskrit Manjusri), t h e bodhisattva of wisdom a n d intellect, a n d is most c o m m o n l y shown s u p p o r t i n g this deity o n o n e side of the B u d d h a while a white e l e p h a n t supports the bodhisattva Fugen (Sanskrit S a m a n t a b h a d r a ) o n t h e other. This association provides t h e b a c k g r o u n d f o r Two Lions b e c a u s e t h e d a n c e is set high o n M o u n t Seiryo (Chinese Q i n g Liang), the central p e a k of the Wutai m o u n t a i n r a n g e in n o r t h e r n Shansi Province, China. This m o u n t a i n has l o n g b e e n v e n e r a t e d as a holy site w h e r e the deity M o n j u may b e f o u n d a n d where, a c c o r d i n g to legend, a natural stone bridge leads to the B u d d h a ' s P u r e Land. T h e p u r p o s e of the d a n c e ' s first section of lyrics, t h e n , is n o t merely to establish location, b u t specifically to describe this spiritual landscape's mystical qualities. This idea is perfectly e c h o e d in the d a n c e ' s i n t e r l u d e , "Theological Dispute,"

TWO L I O N S

based on a kyogen comedy. Adapted to kabuki with lyrics by Hirayama Shinkichi (dates unknown) and music by Katsusaburo II, it offers an amusing and satirical look at Buddhist sectarian conflict in which the worldliness of the priesthood is starkly contrasted with the spirituality and discipline exemplified by the shishi. Occasionally, on foreign tours or in m o d e r n recitals, this comic piece is replaced by the more visually attractive "Butterflies" (Kocho), written for The Mirror Lion. This change is u n f o r t u n a t e because, while in The Mirror Lion the softness of the butterfly dance is suitable to the young maid, Yayoi, a n d offers an effective contrast to the masculine shishi, "Butterflies" has little relevance to Two Lions. This translation is based on a videotape of a p e r f o r m a n c e by Nakamura Kanzaburo XVII (1909-1988) and his son Nakamura Kankuro V (b. 1955) at the Kabuki-za in 1986.

CHARACTERS

UKON, an actor SAKON, another actor, the younger of the two R E N N E N, a priest of the Nichiren sect on a pilgrimage to Mount Seiryo H E N N E N, a priest of the Pure Land sect on a pilgrimage to Mount Seiryo SPIRIT OF THE PARENT L I O N SPIRIT OF THE L I O N C U B STAGE ASSISTANTS, formally

clad koken

NAGAUTA, musical ensemble that accompanies the performance

(Moments before the curtain opens, the stick drum and no flute create a formal atmosphere by playing the melody katashagiri always heard before any dance of the matsubame mono category. The melody gradually increases to an excited tempo until, at a single high-pitched note from the flute, the offstage music stops. A drop curtain lifts, revealing the standard backdrop of wooden boards on which are painted a large pine tree flanked by bamboo. The NAGAUTA ensemble is seated before this backdrop on two tiers covered in bright red cloth. The musicians begin the introductory passage [okiuta] in a dynamic style [ozatsuma], establishing a mood of heroic grandeur.) NAGAUTA:

And now . . .just as the peony is the king among flowers, / so the lion reigns supreme among the myriad beasts! / Excelling in its blossoms, / the peach and the plum, / even now the peony / blooms at its height, while, / equal

TWO

LIONS

to tiger and leopard, / a pair of lions / comes to frisk and to gambol / by a bridge of stone. (The stick drum, large and small hand drums, and no flute play gaku, and the offstage large drum and bells play ongaku, creating a solemn and religious atmosphere as the striped curtain, covering the entry at right, lifts and the two actors enter, with U KO N in the lead. Both wear black hakama embroidered with peony flowers over light-cream kimono, and their hair is pulled back and tied into the stiffened

The actors Nakamura Kanzaburo XVII (bottom) and Nakamura KankuroV (top), father and son in real life, play Parent Lion and Lion Cub.They hold up lion masks topped with brilliantly colored manes as they strike a heaven-earth pose (tenchi no mie) in the first part of the dance. (Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum of Waseda University)

TWO

"tea whisk"

topknot

LIONS

[ n o c h a s e n ] associated

Because of his youth,

with roles taken from n o and k y o g e n .

S A K O N still has an unshaved

heads in their outstretched

right hands.

slowly lower themselves the musicians

similarly

to the audience,

and

very

onto their right knees. A high note from the n o flute

to begin, accompanied

to the spirit of Monju

colored silk cloths that are

The actors walk to center, turn front,

by large and small hand drums

actors rattle the bells on the lion heads in front fully

lion

The hair on U KO N ' s lion is white and red

on S A K O N ' s . To the lion heads are attached draped over the actors' shoulders.

pate. Both hold golden

signaling

signals

[issei]. The

of them and then bow very respect-

that they will now begin their performance,

bodhisattva,

and

whose sacred dwelling place is the scene of the

following

dance. Both stand and begin to portray the two lions who play

stamping

their feet and looking up at the towering peak of Mount

here,

Seiryd.)

T h i s very site is h a l l o w e d / f o r h e r e a b o u t s is / M o n j u bodhisattva's / holy p r e s e n c e felt. / In n a m e , lofty as its peak, is / M o u n t Seiryo, / a n d that w h i c h vaults across its / s t e e p a n d r u g g e d crags / was never the result o f / h u m a n artifice, / but o f its o w n accord in / this place did a p p e a r / t h r o u g h divine i n t e r c e s s i o n . . . / a w o n d r o u s s t o n e bridge. (Turning

upstage,

U K O N left and S A K O N right, both look up at a

rainbow.

The skies have just cleared after a shower.) After a d o w n p o u r it mirrors / an a r c h i n g rainbow / that straddles over n o t h i n g / but pure, e m p t y space. (They retire to the back of the stage where two formally

clad STAGE ASSISTANTS

[ k o k e n ] take the lion heads from them and hand them closed fans. flute

[ s h i n o b u e ] accompanies

UKON

stands

peak. Opening

the music,

and comes forward, the fan,

mimes a waterfall

pointing

and glancing

up at the

bamboo

river at the

as

mountain

he passes it over his head to suggest a mist-filled

crashing from a great height. He holds the fan

to shade his eyes as he looks down into a deep ravine, the rushing

The

creating an air of otherworldliness,

sky and

above his head

then uses the fan

to mime

bottom.)

L o o k i n g u p at the s u m m i t , / ten t h o u s a n d f e e t h i g h , / f r o m o u t of t h e c l o u d s there t u m b l e s / a threadlike cascade. / Gazing d o w n in the valley, / a t h o u s a n d f a t h o m s . . . / w h e r e its base, I c a n n o t tell . . . / white waves s e e t h i n g as / o n the rocks lie s l u m b e r i n g / the f e a r s o m e lions. ( U K O N sits left as SAKON stands the more energetic movements selves. His movements peony

and comes forward,

of a youth,

opening

his fan.

With

he suggests the power of the lions

soften slightly as he portrays

the lions among the

them-

delicate

blossoms.)

Yet e v e n their savage hearts / thirst f o r t h e d e w d r o p s / o n the p e o n y flowers / a m o n g w h i c h they sport. (The tempo picks up and the stick drum joins

in to create an air of

urgency.

TWO

SAKON

LIONS

retires to the back of the stage. UKON

stands, glances down into the deep

ravine in front of him, and goes to fetch the younger actor, bringing him forward by the scruff of his neck. They now portray the famous story of the parent lion that kicks its cub over the edge of the precipice. According to a popular folktale,

three

days after giving birth the lion tests the cub's strength in this way to assure that only the fit and able will be brought up. S A K O N appears nervous as he glimpses the enormous depth of the ravine. Both actors pose, U KO N on one knee

holding

S A K O N back with an outstretched arm, as they cast their eyes down into the distance. A single shamisen and the large and small hand drums suggest the sound of stones tumbling away. S A K O N balances unsteadily on one leg as U K O N

finally

nudges him over the cliff. The youth jumps up, turns in the air, and lowers himself on one knee. He begins to spin around, representing falling large and small hand drums beat at a fast

down the ravine.

The

tempo.)

D o w n so s h e e r a p r e c i p i c e , / f r o m the very p e a k , / must the p a r e n t test its c u b ' s / bravery a n d strength. / T h o u g h with love a n d c o m p a s s i o n / d e e p as the valley, / over the e d g e it kicks its c u b , / w h i c h rolls a n d rolls a n d rolls! ( S A K O N mimes turning around and energetically scampering back up the cliff, but this time he is kicked over and rolls along the ground, suggesting falling

a

second time. Again he returns, and both actors struggle.) T h o u g h s e e m i n g to have fallen, now, / the c u b turns itself a b o u t , / a n d digg i n g h a r d with its claws, / it scales the h i g h cliff. / A g a i n , thrusting it over, / the c u b that is p u s h e d / scrambles with the spirit o f / a h o w l i n g tempest. (At last, S A K O N goes to shichisan, crosses his arms in front of him, and falls to a seated position with eyes closed.) B u t t h e n , in the shade of trees / it pauses f o r a rest. (The tempo slows, and only the shamisen and flute are heard as UKON

comes

forward. In this, the highlight of the dance, U KO N expresses a parent's love and anxiety for his child. Believing he can see the cub, he rushes to the edge of the ravine several times to look searchingly, but there is nothing.

The large drum beats out the

sound of flowing water [mizu n o o t o ] as we are reminded of the wild river.) U n a b l e to c l i m b , will it / show a c o w a r d ' s heart? / A n d will its h a r d upb r i n g i n g / b e to n o avail? / P e e r i n g into the ravine, / all is mist-obscured, / while at the b o t t o m gushes / the river torrents. (Eventually,

S A KO N wakes and glances about. Looking down into a still pool,

he sees his parent's image reflected on the surface and immediately revives. At the top of the cliff, the parent catches sight of its cub and is delighted. Stamping

hard,

S A K O N hops on one foot back to center, where the parent and cub are reunited and dance for joy. Large and small hand drums again play in a lively manner.) Just t h e n , u p o n the water, / an i m a g e reflects. . . . / G l i m p s i n g this, the lion c u b / is at o n c e inspired, / a n d t h o u g h it has n o wings, it / b o u n d s toward the

TWO

LIONS

top, / from tall mountain crag to crag / leaping with all ease, / and the power it displays / as it dashes up, / for its heroic courage, / is truly remarkable! (As parent and cub look fondly at each other, the two STAGE ASSISTANTS come forward, each holding a long pole [sashigane] to which is attached a butterfly. The butterflies hover on either side of the two actors. Suddenly noticing them, UKON starts to follow them while SAKON goes to rest at the back of the stage. Kneeling, U KO N rests his head in his right hand as he watches the insects' dainty flight. Standing and facing back, he stretches out his arms to allow each butterfly in turn to land on either hand. The shamisen increases in tempo [hayame aikata], and the tinkling sound of offstage bells [orugoru] suggests the butterflies' presence. UKON then goes to the back, where STAGE ASSISTANTS give both actors their golden lion heads. Coming forward, they mime the lions frolicking among the peony flowers. Offstage, the large drum beats out a wind pattern [kaze no oto] and the two actors pose, UKON standing below and looking up while SAKON stands above him on a wooden stool, looking down. Rattling the bells on their lion heads and snapping their jaws open and closed, both dash after the butterflies onto the hanamichi, pausing at shichisan. The shamisen play the music hayame no aikata, gradually increasing in speed, and the no flute and hand drums play kakeri, suggesting the lions' nervous excitement. They mime the lions becoming increasingly agitated as the butterflies tease them, until finally SAKON, holding the red-haired lion head, chases after the butterflies and exits through the back curtain [agemaku] of the hanamichi. In a more mature and dignified manner, U KO N, holding the white-haired lion head,

follows.)

Then come the butterflies that / appease the lions' hearts / as they emerge through blossoms / or hide behind leaves, / now chasing, now being chased, / entirely absorbed, / while petals start to scatter, / disturbed by the wind . . . / fluttering, weightlessly, / flapping, lightly, / pursuing in a frenzy, / in excitement and delight, / the butterfly wings. (As soon as UKON disappears from view, the stick drum and the large and small hand drums play in a lively fashion

[koiai], ushering in the first of two comic

characters, who enter from behind the striped curtain, right. They perform the comic interlude "Theological Dispute. " The first character, REN N EN, wears a priest's brown hood [nagezukin] and green overcoat [mizugoromo] over a kimono of crossed brown-and-black stripes on a white ground [okina goshi] and black pantaloon-like

trousers [wanbukuro] decorated with embroidered roundels. He

holds prayer beads in his hand. He stops, turns front, and declares his identity.) REN N EN: I am a priest of the Honkoku Temple in the capital. At this time, I thought to climb distant Seiryo Mountain to practice religious austerities. Well then, I will proceed at a leisurely pace. (Shamisen and stick drum play slowly as the priest turns and makes his way stage left.) I must say, Mount Seiryo is proving

TWO

LIONS

steeper and more rugged than I had heard. I will rest for awhile hereabouts. (He sits down, facing the striped curtain, right. The stick drum and hand drums start up again to announce the entrance of the second character, HENNEN, from behind the curtain. He also wears a priest's hood and a black outer coat over a brown kimono with stripes. He holds a wide traveling hat in one hand and prayer beads in the other. He turns front, stops, and declares his identity.) HENNEN: T h e one who comes before you is a priest of the Kurodani Temple in Yamato Province. At this time, I thought to cross the Stone Bridge atop distant Mount Seiryo in order to worship the bodhisattva Monju. Well then, I will begin m y j o u r n e y at a leisurely pace. (He walks left and circles the stage, looking about him as he goes. Shamisen and drums accompany slowly.) My, my, what a steep and rugged mountain Mount Seiryo is proving! (He catches sight o/RENNEN and turns to face front.) Someone else seems to be here, too. (Turns to face RENNEN and calls out.) I say, I say! You over there. RENNEN (Standing and walking toward center): Do you mean me? HENNEN: Why, certainly. RENNEN: What is it that you want? HENNEN: I was wondering where you came f r o m and where you were headed. RENNEN: I hail from the capital and am going to Seiryo Mountain to practice religious austerities. HENNEN (With evident delight): I, too, am h e a d e d there! Won't you accompany me on the way? (He takes a step closer.) RENNEN (With equal delight, and also stepping closer): I was just thinking how I'd like some company, and now my wish has been granted! HENNEN: Well then, let us go together. RENNEN: Yes, indeed. Well, let us go, let us go. (Both turn to face front.) HENNEN: I'm coming. I'm coming. (Both turn left and begin to circle the stage, looking about them as they travel through the landscape.) RENNEN: My, but doesn't Mount Seiryo make for an exquisite view! HENNEN: Indeed, it's just as you say. T h e scenery is truly ravishing! (Both halt and turn toward each other.) By the way, what m a n n e r of priest are you, anyway? RENNEN (Announcing

with obvious pride): I am a priest of the Honkoku Temple in

the capital. HENNEN (Turning away with alarm and disgust): What? O h dear! Oh dear! What a loathsome creature I'm accompanying! RENNEN: And what kind of priest might you, yourself, be? HENNEN (Defiantly): I am a priest of the Kurodani Temple in Yamato! RENNEN (Shocked and disgusted): What? O h my! O h my! What an offensive creature

TWO

LIONS

I'm accompanying! (He decides on immediate countermeasures.)

Well, if it's all

the same to you, I am in something of a hurry, so I'll go on ahead. H ENNEN (Refusing

to be left behind): No, no. I'm coming with you!

RENNEN (Turning left and starting to walk away): I'm going ahead. I'm going ahead. HENNEN (Quickly rushing up behind): I'm coming too! I'm coming too! RENNEN (Running

on in front): I'm going ahead! I'm going ahead!

HENNEN (Rushing to catch up): I'm coming too! I'm coming too! (Both chase around the stage repeating their lines until HENNEN finally right, sits, and hides himself under his hat. RENNEN stops as well and

pauses glances

bach.) RENNEN (Thrilled

at having succeeded):

(Breaks out

So, I've managed to escape him after all!

laughing.)

HENNEN (Reappearing):

I say, I say. You there!

RENNEN (Disappointed):

Oh, you're back.

HENNEN: Why, certainly! RENNEN: Well, if you want to accompany me that badly, then you'd better take these holy prayer beads granted me by Saint Nichiren himself. (Holds out the

beads.)

Take them now. HENNEN: I'll touch nothing so offensive! RENNEN (Approaching

closer, trying to force his beads on HENNEN ): Take them!

Take them! Take them! HENNEN (Retreating

in disgust): I won't! I won't! I won't!

(Both continue to insist that the other give in until RENNEN stamps forcefully HENNEN kneels, covering his face with his RENNEN (Thrilled out

and

hat.)

at having won again): I've forced him to take them after all! (Bursts

laughing.)

HENNEN (Holding

Ugh! How disgusting! How

up his own beads to purify himself):

disgusting! (Stands and declares adamantly.)

Well, in that case, you must

take these prayer beads handed down from Saint Ippen! (Goes to force them on R E N N E N . ) Take these now! RENNEN: I'll do no such thing! I'll do no such thing! HENNEN (Chasing

RENNEN and trying to force him to take his beads): Take them!

Take them! Take them! RENNEN (Running

away): I won't! Iwon't! I won't!

(Both continue to repeat their lines again until this time HENNEN forcefully

and RENNEN kneels in

HENNEN (Delighted):

stamps

submission.)

I've made him take them after all! (Bursts out

laughing.)

RENNEN (Purifying himself by waving his own beads in front of him): What filth! What filth! (Standing.) here and now.

I think we should settle this with a theological debate right

TWO

LIONS

HENNEN: I was just going to suggest that myself! RENNEN: Very well then, you begin. HENNEN: No, no! You begin! RENNEN: Right, then, I will now demonstrate the merits of my studies for your benefit. (The singers begin with a reference to the five blessed phenomena [gozui], which, according to religious doctrine, appeared on the earth seven days after the birth of the Buddha. The singers pun on the word "zuiki," which means either "lucky omen," "overwhelming joy, " or the stem of a sweet potato. In keeping with the comic nature of the piece, RENNEN

mimes digging in the soil and pulling out a large

root vegetable. Falling to his knees, he washes it and slices it up on a chopping board. He mixes it with chili in a bowl and finally brings the bowl to his face to smell the concoction, only to realize that the chili has made his eyes water.) NAGAUTA: T h e five auspicious omens! / Their virtues, like a beating d r u m , / did spread through the land. / If, in this boundless earth, / you started to dig, / out would come the lengthy stem / of a sweet taro. / T h e n , f r o m its tip with a knife, / finely chop it u p / and mix in a pot with chili. / With this you'd make such happy friends / you'd weep at the heavenly match / tears of gratitude! RENNEN: How grateful I am to receive such blessings! HENNEN: No, no. It was the effect of too much chili that m a d e your eyes water! RENNEN: Well then, it's your turn to speak! HENNEN: If we're debating then, indeed, I u«7/have my say. Have you h e a r d of our fervent prayer to the great lord Amida? RENNEN: I've heard n o t h i n g of the sort. HENNEN: If you've never h e a r d about it, then I will tell you now. (The large drum and brass gong offstage join in to emphasize the comic atmosphere as HENNEN mimes to the following lyrics. He poses as a holy Buddha,

holding

his hat behind his head as a halo. First, he becomes a blind man stumbling about with a stick. Then sitting, he pulls himself along on the floor like a wretched man without legs. Standing, he shows astonishment at the fact that the disabled have suddenly been cured, and he ends by posing once more as the Buddha, with the hat again behind his head as a halo.) NAGAUTA: In the world of the Buddha's law / o u r salvation is d e p e n d e n t / on our conduct while alive, but, / if on Amida's n a m e we call / and the Buddhist Trinity, then / on us their golden light will shine. / Such is the boundless wisdom of / o u r holy teachings that even / the blind and the legless cripples / f r o m their ailments will be freed. / Grateful are we for such blessings, / the h o n o r e d and respected truths / of the Pure Land sect. HENNEN: How thankful I am for such wisdom.

TWO

LIONS

RENNEN: No, no. Words like that belong to starving devils! HENNEN (Indignantly): They are certainly not the words of starving devils! REN N EN: Yes, they are the words of starving devils. HENNEN: No, they are not the words of starving devils! RENNEN: Such words will never drive away the lions. (Turns upstage, where a STAGE ASSISTANT hands him a drum and stick.) But I, with the virtue of this blessed drum received from Saint Nichiren, will put paid to them all. HENNEN (Frustrated and refusing to be outdone): That will never drive the lions away. (Turns back to get a brass bell and hammer.) But this bell received from Saint Ippen is sure to subdue them! RENNEN: No. (Beats on the drum loudly.) The drum will do it! HENNEN: No. (Hitting the bell with equal force.) The bell! RENNEN: No, the drum! The drum! HENNEN: No, the bell! The bell! (The shamisen accompanies as both begin to recite the prayers of their respective sects, all the while beating or hammering their instruments and dancing about in a circle.) RENNEN: I place my faith in the wonderful Lotus Sutra! HENNEN: I place my faith in almighty Amida Buddha! RENNEN: The Lotus Sutra! HENNEN: Almighty Amida! RENNEN: The Lotus Sutra! HENNEN: Almighty Amida! (They continue to dance and chant with such hysterical passion that, in the end, these foolish priests begin chanting the wrong prayers.) RENNEN: Almighty Amida! HENNEN: The Lotus Sutra! RENNEN: Almighty Amida! HENNEN: The Lotus Sutra! BOTH (Realizing their mistake and beginning to giggle): Good heavens! We've managed to mix up the words. Hee hee hee. (Suddenly, the large drum offstage beats out the sound of a strong wind in the mountains [yama oroshi] and the two priests are shocked out of their squabbling. The musicians continue in an urgent tone.) NAGAUTA: Just at that time an evil wind / comes whistling by, / and, quite forgetting their prayers, / both quiver with fear. HENNEN: Good grief! The mountain's started rumbling! This is no trifling matter! RENNEN: At the foothills I was told of the ancient lions that live in these parts. Surely they are approaching!

TWO

LIONS

H E N N E N : Well, we c a n ' t j u s t . . . B O T H : H a n g a r o u n d like this! (The large drum continues to the ground.

as, in a panic,

Trying to get up again,

the two bump into each other and

they find

and the lyrics compare them to the holy sage Daruma away after long years of ascetic meditation. resemble Daruma, upright

arguing

to add a feeling

stand,

whose legs wasted

They are also compared to the toys that over, they

spring

A passage o / k y o g e n kakko music ensues during

the large and small hand drums, rhythmically

(Dharma),

weighted at the bottom so that when pushed

by themselves.

fall

that they are too terrified to

the n o flute,

which

and the offstage brass gong all play

of childlike fun.

Eventually,

to the bitter end about who should go

the pair staggers o f f ,

first.)

NAGAUTA: Weak f r o m fear they c a n n o t stand, / a n d their f o r m s a p p e a r / j u s t like t h e legless D a r u m a / as they roll about. / But, t u m b l i n g d o w n the m o u n t a i n , / they m a k e their e s c a p e . (Once gone, issei music is heard in which a shrill note from the n o flute the large and small drums,

changing

the mood at once to one of great

S T A G E A S S I S T A N T S carry out two platforms, right and left. Drums a grand

and imposing

to follow.

and flute

continue.

which they place on the stage to

A solo shamisen

style [ o z a t s u m a ] , preparing

The singer reminds

introduces solemnity.

then begins to play

us for the magnificent

us of the sacred nature of our

in

events

surroundings.)

A n d so . . . the S t o n e Bridge s t a n d i n g h i g h o n / M o u n t Seiryo / was never o n e i n t e n d e d / f o r mortals to cross. / As a holy miracle / of the B u d d h a ' s Law, / it has a p p e a r e d in this place / of its o w n accord. / T h e n a m e it has b e e n given / is Shakkyo. ( S T A G E A S S I S T A N T S bring in four bushes offlowering two corners of either platform. hand drums also join

peonies,

which they set at

The music increases in tempo as the large and

small

in.)

C o n t i n u e to wait h e r e j u s t / a little longer, / f o r very s o o n will b e time / f o r a holy vision to / materialize! (The stick drum, pattern

large and small hand drums,

the L I O N S . They pause,

The flute

increasing

the single drops of dew falling

reenters, and the same pattern

in tempo [haya raijo]. Finally,

enters first on the h a n a m i c h i , wearing of butterflies patterned

leading

to the entrance

of

and the stick and hand drums produce soft, quiet

[tsuyu n o hyoshi] indicating flowers.

and the n o flute play a lively

[ranjo, also called raijo], creating suspense

is played again,

in gold on a dark-blue ground,

gradually

the S P I R I T O F T H E P A R E N T

a short jacket

beats

from the peony

LION

[ h a p p i ] decorated with

and wide-bottomed

with peonies in gold on white over a brocade kimono.

pairs

hakama [okuchi] The long,

wig extends all the way down the back and trails behind. Reaching

white

shichisan, it

TWO

LIONS

The embodied spirits of the white-maned Parent Lion (Ichikawa Ennosuke III), left, and the red-maned Lion Cub (Ichikawa Ukon), right, dance in unison before an ensemble of nagauta

musicians. (Umemura Yutaka, Engeki Shuppansha)

proceeds onto the main stage as the SPIRIT O F T H E LION CUB enters,

dressed

in a similar costume but in different colors: the jacket has a green ground, and the hakama are gold on orange. The wig is bright red. Both wear the simple

red-and-

black lines of the mukimi guma makeup style worn by kabuki lions. When the CUB reaches shichisan, it flicks the long wig to the right and retreats backward, ally increasing

in speed until it disappears

LION watches from the platform,

through the curtain.

gradu-

The PARENT

left, as the stick drum alone plays with fast,

regular beats [uchidashi]. Finally, as (/¡«LION CUB reenters, the stick drum, large and small hand drums, and the no flute play nagashi, becoming louder

and

faster and seeming almost to pull back the CUB as it rushes directly to the main stage, where it turns and dashes to the second platform,

right. It revolves once,

leaps

into the air, and lands on its left knee. The PA R E N T LION also drops to its left knee on its platform.

With arms outstretched and right legs extended, both pose to

two beats of the tsuke. The no flute and stick and hand drums play a fast

pattern

[kurui] suggesting the L I O N s ' excitement as they begin to shake their wigs, powerfully,

and spin. STAGE ASSISTANTS hand each a pair of peony

stamp

branches,

and they pose again to two tsuke beats.) T h e time has come for the lions / to dance to ancient court tunes! / T h e

TWO

LIONS

time has come for the lions / to dance to ancient court tunes! / The cups of the peony blooms / now overflow with fragrance! / Exhibiting their massive strength, / here the lion heads! / Beat the drums! Let music play! / The peony's scent! The peony's scent! / The flowers' golden stamens / emerge from within. / Sporting among the blossoms, / tumbling among the branches, / surely nothing can surpass / the lions' fierce majesty. / Even among the trees and grasses / there are none that will not bow. / Long may their dance continue, / a thousand autumns! Long may their dance continue, / a thousand autumns! (The L I O N S pose to tsuke beats, then flick their manes. Standing

one behind

the other, they flick the manes in opposite directions, left and right [shobu uchi]. The PA R E N T L I O N goes to its platform while the CUB rushes to the hanamichi, and both flick their manes once more. Shaking the manes to right and left [kami arai], they begin swinging the manes around their heads in great sweeping movements [tomoe]. Continuing

to swing its mane, the CUB retreats backward to its

platform, and both gradually increase the speed of their

movements.)

Now upon the Lion Throne, / they will take their seats. (With a loud stamp [tomebyoshi] the PARENT L I O N signals its C U B to stop, and both flick back their manes. Turning upstage, they allow STAGE A S S I S T A N T S to smooth down their hair. Facing front once more, and with arms outstretched, they stamp first one foot, then the other. The PARENT L I O N extends both arms out to either side as a cue for the final ki stroke, and the C U B jumps into a seated position on its right knee. Both pose to rapid tsuke beats. The stick drum, large and small hand drums, and no flute ensemble play gaku and the offstage large drum and bells play ongaku, a dignified and courtly melody, as the curtain

falls.)

Three-panel woodblock print OyToyohara Ch/kanobu (i838 1916) Shintomi za Tokyo. May 188i "Officer Sakai Saemon" ("lchilca*\u ,\l/\r no Ba AC 1 I. T H B

SCI-St R i v e r b a n k

vi

K M

\I

B R I D G I

Eildi Bashi Kawabata no Ba ACT it, S C E N E S h i n / a ' s

t

P l a c e

in

Fi

k a g a w a ,

T o m i y o s h i - c h o

Tomiyoshi-cho Shinza I chi no Ba A C T H . St:E N E 2

( nor.i i rut

L a n d l o r d ' s

in

T o m i v o s h i - c h o

fomiyosfii-cfio lenushi no Ba AC J

(1

SCENE

S h i n z a ' s

?

P l a c e

i n

F u k a g a w a ,

T o m i y o s h i - c h o

Tomivo$hi~chd Shinza I t hi no Ba

1873

ICHI MURA-ZA, TOKYO

Shinza the Barber INTRODUCTION

Shinza the Barber was one of a string of hits created by kabuki's last classical playwright, Kawatake Mokuami (then known as Kawatake Shinshichi II, 1816-1893), for his favorite actor, O n o e Kikugoro V (1844—1903). A master of psychological realism, Mokuami has left us h u n d r e d s of works in all genres, but he is best known today for his many domestic play (sewamono) masterpieces, like Shinza the Barber, depicting the lives of Tokyo urbanites from merchants to ruffians. Mokuami is kabuki's sharpest social critic and arguably its only humorist in that he consistently chooses to expose h u m a n and social foibles through the deliberate medium of sophisticated intellectual humor. So incisive and contemporary is his m e t h o d that it retains its immediacy even after the passage of a century. This unique quality is a challenge to the translator. Mokuami's language is particularly daunting. T h e lines of Shinza and his cohorts are actually written in dialect—further embellished by the actors—the descendant of which can still be heard in the older parts of Tokyo. It is a rolling machine-gun patter filled with slang, slurs, and allusions a n d powered by a rich syntactical rhythm that is impossible to reproduce. T h e closest equivalent to its sound and vocabulary in our culture might come from Jimmy Cagney at a crap game. T h e two social institutions of primary interest in the play are male dowry marriages and t e n e m e n t life. T h e custom of a man marrying into his wife's family is still widely practiced and is an attractive option for younger sons with no hereditary prospects of their own. In this arrangement a man joins the household and takes the surname of his bride—herself without brothers—and runs the family business. For this privilege in olden times he paid a dowry. In the original play a short formal scene, omitted here because of space constraints, takes place in Act I, scene 1 just after Zenpachi's entrance, in which the go-between himself appears with coolies bearing splendid gifts and turns over the dowry of five h u n d r e d ryd in gold pieces to the family. (This was a hefty sum. It is traditionally estimated that one person could subsist for one year on o n e ryd.) While the playwright is not without sympathy for the bride-to-be in her protest at being sold to the highest bidder, he seems to be suggesting overall that her recklessness might well make an arranged stay-at-home marriage the safest place for her. Social organization in the feudal Edo period (1603-1868), when this play is set, was strict and efficient. T h e official urban unit was the neighborhood. Each was

SHINZA

THE

BARBER

delineated by the authorities into a group (gumi) of families who were technically all legally responsible for the activities of any member. A landlord, therefore, was particularly accountable for his gumi of tenants; and tenants in the thin-walled tenement, where Shinza lives, for their part kept sharp surveillance over one another. When Chobei threatens Shinza with the law (Act I, scene 2), he is exercising his right as gumi chief to make what a m o u n t e d to a citizen's arrest, and in the speech he lists specific policing groups in the neighborhood in which he holds position. "Gang boss" Yatagoro Genshichi has similar, though unofficial, clout. T h e "gang" was territorial, like the m o d e r n street gang, although, at least in fiction, with a lot more cachet. It oversaw semilegal entertainments like gambling and prostitution and was tolerated by the authorities for its organizational and peacekeeping skills. It was u n h e a r d of—probably in life and certainly in plays—for a nobody like Shinza to resist the intervention of a local boss, and Shinza's insults to Genshichi are shocking in their milieu. Furthermore, many of the bosses in the plays are, like Genshichi, samurai by blood who have fallen on hard times, so they have the additional legal right to dictate to, or even kill, the commoner. Along with the pair of swords they alone were allowed to carry, men from the samurai class, however humble, always had at least two proper names. T h e c o m m o n e r was generally not even permitted a surname. Shinza's class bitterness is very obvious in his handling of Genshichi. It may come from the fact that Shinza hails from a provincial village that is still agricultural today; farmers were quite far down in the immobile social hierarchy. Although Shinza s i m p u d e n c e is rather extreme even for Mokuami, the class barrier is a favorite target of the playwright's social criticism. Mokuami loved to send up society's, and kabuki's, most sacred cows, a n d Shinza the Barber is populated by a host of parodies immediately recognizable to traditional audiences. Most obvious of these are the lovers O k u m a and Chushichi, as they flounder ineptly through their classic merchant-play predicament of d o o m e d romance between heiress and clerk. Otsune, too, is a singularly unsympathetic version—with her instant recourse to "Jewish mother" tactics—of the nobly struggling widow. Her maid is snippy and her customers are rude; indeed, on the merchant team—in fact in the entire cast—only friend Zenpachi is wholly earnest and blameless. It is interesting that Zenpachi alone is a physical laborer, a rickshaw man. Boss Genshichi, before whom Zenpachi must grovel, was born a samurai, but u n d e r Mokuami's pen he is a pompous and small-minded example of that lofty class. T h e landlord's wife, Okaku, is a comic role of a type not unknown in kabuki but here reaching mythic proportions. Okaku has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. She is a m o n u m e n t to meanness and, in the deft hands of Ichimura Tsuruzo (b. 1924), who

SHINZA THE

BARBER

invariably plays her, a hilarious character. H e r h u s b a n d C h o b e i is u n i q u e . H e is dapper, self-assured, articulate, a n d nearly heroic in his s m o o t h c h e c k m a t i n g of Shinza. But he, too, falls b e n e a t h the playwright's scalpel a n d is at last d e f e a t e d by his greed. T h e n t h e r e is Shinza. H e is—as h e would tell us himself—a h a r d n u t to crack. His distinction is in his utter irreverence: an audacity u n m a t c h e d even in Mokuami, whose h o n o r a b l e thieves can always be moved by appeal to s o m e p o i n t of "face." To such ideals Shinza gives s h o r t shrift. In fact, h e is able adroitly to twist t h e m r o u n d a n d trade o n t h e m to suit his purposes, as h e does in his a r g u m e n t to Chushichi in Act I, scene 1. Shinza can be called a true a n t i h e r o in the m o d e r n sense. His only affection is f o r his a p p r e n t i c e , Katsu. T h e i r relationship is somewhat obscure in r e a d i n g t h e text, b u t they are always closely b o n d e d in p e r f o r m a n c e . It is clear Katsu greatly admires Shinza, a n d they are friends. Otherwise Shinza delights in t u r n i n g all sentiment o n its ear. Only the sophisticated Chobei u n d e r s t a n d s this, a n d h e prevails by dealing solely with Shinza's basest instincts. T h e beauty of Shinza the Barber as a p e r f o r m a n c e piece is its flexibility. Scenes f o r the most p a r t are f o u n d e d o n talk, n o t action, a n d the l o n g dialogues p e r m i t a p l e t h o r a of interpretive possibilities f o r the actor. T h e r e f o r e Shinza the Barber does n o t a d h e r e , as d o so many kabuki plays, to o n e established style of characterization, blocking, music cues, or even costuming. Each cast tends to d o the play in a way quite d i f f e r e n t f r o m another. Shinza can be, a n d has b e e n over the decades, e x u b e r a n t a n d funny, seedy a n d pugnacious, i n e p t a n d b e n i g n , or d a r k a n d b r o o d i n g . His nemesis C h o b e i m i g h t be suave a n d persuasive, chuckling a n d avuncular, cool a n d t h r e a t e n i n g , or p e p p e r y a n d blunt. T h e lover Chushichi may be played as a sympathetic victim or as a b u f f o o n . Stage business a n d music p a t t e r n s are freely a d a p t e d to d i f f e r e n t interpretations. Every version of the script, for instance, brings Shinza in o n the hanamichi for his first entrance, as is c o m m o n for kabuki leads. A few actors follow this custom, embellishing it with lively music; others slip in unobtrusively f r o m stage right b e f o r e the a u d i e n c e even knows they are there. As the role of Shinza does n o t currently b e l o n g to any o n e actor or family, any a n d all p r o d u c t i o n variations r e m a i n valid. In terms of stage directions, t h e n , the a p p r o a c h in this translation has b e e n to conflate the several traditions into a "generic" Shinza the Barber c o n t a i n i n g minimal description. It will easily be seen that the richness of M o k u a m i ' s dialogue makes any f u r t h e r detail unnecessary, if n o t intrusive. Today's most brisk p r o d u c t i o n of Shinza the Barber runs over two hours, a n d , as always in kabuki, some passages may be cut at the discretion of the actors. In this version occasional lines have b e e n cut for reasons of space a n d continuity. W h e n necessary, missing activity is s u m m a r i z e d in the stage directions. T h e s t a n d a r d p e r f o r -

SHINZA THE

BARBER

m a n c e e n d s with a n e p i l o g u e s c e n e in w h i c h t h e s p u r n e d boss G e n s h i c h i gets his r e v e n g e s o m e m o n t h s l a t e r by a m b u s h i n g a w e a p o n l e s s S h i n z a o n a l o n e l y r o a d at n i g h t . S u c h e p i l o g u e s a r e n o t u n c o m m o n in plays of this type. S h i n z a d o e s n o t d i e o n s t a g e — t h e c u r t a i n closes, as is t r a d i t i o n a l , o n t h e o n g o i n g

fight—but

h e is

w o u n d e d , so t h e a u d i e n c e k n o w s his t i m e is u p . T h e s c e n e is c o n t r i v e d

and

dramatically unsatisfying. I n d e e d , m a n y t h e a t r e g o e r s r o u t i n e l y leave f o r h o m e b e f o r e it b e g i n s . It is n o t k n o w n w h e t h e r it o r i g i n a l l y s e r v e d p r i m a r i l y to p r o v i d e a c o l o r f u l finale o r h a d t h e d i d a c t i c p u r p o s e (a p a r t i c u l a r c o n c e r n of t h e a g e in w h i c h t h e play was w r i t t e n ) of i l l u s t r a t i n g t h a t c r i m e n e v e r pays. N o d o u b t it was a c o m b i n a t i o n of b o t h . T h e s c e n e is o m i t t e d h e r e b e c a u s e of s p a c e c o n s t r a i n t s , a n d also to leave S h i n z a t h e b a r b e r , surely M o k u a m i ' s m o s t b i z a r r e l y e n d e a r i n g c r e a t i o n , t h r i v i n g to h a v e t h e last w o r d . T h e p l a y ' s f u l l title is A Rainy

Season Short-Sleeved

Robe and Old-Time

Hachijo

Silk (Tsuyu K o s o d e M u k a s h i H a c h i j o ) . It is p u b l i s h e d in T o i t a Yasuji e t al., eds., Meisaku

Kabuki

Zenshu,

vol. 11.

CHARACTERS: S H I N Z A , a barber KATSU, S H I N Z A 's apprentice O T S U N E , widowed proprietress of the Shirakoya O K U M A , OTSUNE's only

daughter

O K I K U , O T S U N E and O K U M A 's maid C H U S HIC HI, head clerk of the Shirakoya SENSUKE, clerk MANZAI, clerk Z E N P A C H I , a family

friend

CHOMATSU, a local shop boy YATAGORO G E N S H I C H I , a local gang boss C H O B E I , S H I N Z A '5 landlord O K A K U , C H O B E I ' s wife G O N P E I , a neighbor FISHMONGER CARPENTERS P A L A N Q U I N BEARERS TOWNSFOLK

SHINZA THE

BARBER

A c t I, scene I The Shirakoya Shop (A slightly melancholy

street song precedes the curtain

of the Shirakoya

covered platform

with three steps down to stage-floor-level

slatted,

carpentry

opening

and lumberyard

supply company.

wooden outer door right, and a similar

right is a painted flat of vertically slides open onto a tiny entryway

on the front

room

The room is a

center, a

tatami-

freestanding,

door into an inner room left. Up

stacked and labeled lumber. The right outer door space where footwear

is removed before

entering,

and which extends to tatami spread along the stage floor below the platform. room itself contains

an accounts

door center, and a built-in

closet up left containing

that serves as the merchant n a r i m o n o , the curtain right with Shirakoya

desk up right, a sliding,

slatted

The

wood-and-paper

a visible chest of locked

"safe. " To the offstage percussion

opens on C A R P E N T E R S arguing

pattern

drawers

Kakubei

in the lumberyard

clerks S E N S U K E and M A N Z A I about the paucity

up

of stock:

"How can we buy from you if you don't stock what we need?, " "We'll have to go elsewhere, " etc. They finally

exit up right in disgust,

and the clerks come

inside.)

S E N S U K E : A i n ' t it r e v o l t i n g ? Best h o u s e in t h e b u s i n e s s g o i n g b r o k e a r o u n d o u r e a r s , c a n ' t r e s t o c k , a n d all o u r c l i e n t s d e s e r t i n g us like rats. M A N Z A I : W e ' r e t h e o n e s w h o l o o k like c h u m p s , j u s t b e c a u s e t h e s h o p ' s l u c k t o o k a dive. B u t a n y h o w , t h i n g s m i g h t b e l o o k i n g u p a little n o w t h e y ' v e f o u n d a m a t c h f o r Miss O k u m a . S E N S U K E : O k i k u ' s u n c l e , Z e n p a c h i t h e r i c k s h a w m a n , d i d all t h e d e a l i n g . Set u p with a go-between h e knows. M A N Z A I : I d o n ' t k n o w w h o t h e lucky m a n is, b u t I'll tell y o u , if h e ' s g o i n g t o m a r r y Miss O k u m a , we c a n ' t m u c h like h i m . . . S E N S U K E : C a n we? ( Z E N P A C H I comes trotting the marriage

contract.

black tabi, and Z E N P A C H I (Sticking S E N S U K E (Calling

along the h a n a m i c h i , carrying slightly too short,

haori,

sandals.)

Madam, Zenpachi's here!

Zenpachi's here? I'm coming!

("ZENPACHI comes in and sits down to right at floor level. Clerks exit O T S U N E enters from the up center door, in brown kimono followed

a copy of

his head inside): I ' d like t o s e e M a d a m if s h e ' s in. within):

O T S U N E (Offstage):

in happily

He is dressed in a dark kimono,

by O KIK U in sedate checked

within.

and light brown h a o r i ,

kimono.)

O T S U N E : O h , Z e n p a c h i , g o o d of y o u to c o m e . (She sits center. O K I K U sits right

o/ZENPACHI.)

Z E N P A C H I : I've j u s t n o w g o t a h o l d of o u r c o p y of t h e m a r r i a g e c o n t r a c t , so I've b r o u g h t it by. (He hands

it to O T S U N E and sits back

down.)

SHINZA

THE

BARBER

O T S U N E : My h o r o s c o p e said today w o u l d be a lucky day. ( O K U M A enters center. She is dressed as a typical up-market merchant's

daughter

in a bright trailing-sleeved kimono of wide, purple "arrow" strips and a red obi. She sports a large, red, girlish hair bauble with a long tassel.) O K U M A : M u m , I've j u s t h e a r d f r o m the clerks a m a r r i a g e o f f e r ' s c o m e . W h o s e is it? O T S U N E : It d o e s n ' t matter w h o . T h e p o i n t is that we've m a d e a m a t c h and h e r e it is all s i g n e d a n d sealed. (She indicates the contract.) O K I K U : Y o u m e a n Miss herself d o e s n ' t even know the m a n she's g o i n g to marry? O K U M A : Well, there was that time at the theatre. We w e n t a while ago, and M u m p o i n t e d o u t s o m e o n e in the b o x across and said to think a b o u t him as a match, maybe. I h a v e n ' t even t h o u g h t at all yet, o n e way o r another, and h e r e we are already with the negotiations f i n i s h e d a n d the deal already d o n e ! I've b e e n sold d o w n the river! O T S U N E : D o n ' t let's overdramatize, shall we? It's u n d e r s t a n d a b l e y o u h a v e n ' t quite a d j u s t e d to it yet, but we both know that a m o n e y e d h u s b a n d f o r y o u is the only way to save the s h o p . O K U M A : Why! O T S U N E : T h e r e are g o o d reasons, and I guess if y o u d o n ' t know t h e m y o u ' l l j u s t think y o u r m o t h e r ' s h o r r i b l e , so I'll tell y o u what they are. (Offstage

accompanying

shamisen.) I n e e d n ' t say again at this p o i n t what an u p r i g h t , tireless w o r k e r y o u r late f a t h e r was. H e d i d n t shut his eyes at n i g h t f o r k e e p i n g u p with the e x p e n s e s and the m o r t g a g e always f o r e m o s t o n his m i n d . But y o u c a n ' t p r e d i c t w h e n fire breaks out, the way it always d o e s in town a n d spreads, a n d what with o n e t h i n g a n d a n o t h e r he j u s t h a d a run o f losses a n d he h a d to take to b o r r o w i n g to stay afloat. W e ' d j u s t a b o u t d e c i d e d that w e ' d have to close d o w n s h o p at any rate w h e n he got sick on top of it, a n d now I'm left with debts I've got to pay of n o less than five h u n d r e d . I t h o u g h t I d i d n ' t have a prayer w h e n g o o d Z e n p a c h i h e r e c a m e u p with his idea a n d w e n t to work to find a m a t c h w h o ' l l b r i n g five h u n d r e d to the m a r r i a g e to r e d e e m the business. I t h o u g h t it was my d e a r d e p a r t e d w o r k i n g f r o m b e y o n d the grave. S o we went a h e a d and dealt with him, w i t h o u t waiting to c o n v i n c e y o u , a n d that's h o w we've c o m e to have this c o n t r a c t in o u r h a n d s today. O K I K U : I can u n d e r s t a n d c o m p l e t e l y how y o u feel a b o u t it, Miss. But f o r the family's sake, a n d f o r the sake of the late master, it is the filial t h i n g to d o . O K U M A : T h e n I've n o c h o i c e but to take him, have I? O T S U N E : T h i n k of it as s o m e t h i n g y o u ' l l b e d o i n g f o r the family, a n d f o r Papa. T h i n k of it that way a n d p u t aside y o u r feelings, a n d a c c e p t him. (She clasps her hands in

supplication.)

Z E N P A C H I : Aw, Miss, l o o k how y o u r m o t h e r ' s b e g g i n g y o u like t h a t . . . O K I K U : A n d please give h e r an answer!

SHINZA THE

BARBER

O K U M A : Yes, but really, I'm just, I don't know. Z E N P A C H I : Look here, Miss, we've gone so far in the negotiations, the marriage contract's signed. If we back out at this late date, however can we face the go-between? OKI KU: Your mother's in dire straits, Miss, and only you can save her. Won't you answer? (OKUMA holds her sleeve to her eyes and weeps.) Z E N P A C H I : Whyever are you crying, Miss? O K I K U : You've got to answer, Miss . . . B O T H (Bowing and clasping hands): J u s t answer! O T S U N E : That's all right, Zenpachi, give it up. You too, Okiku. If that's the way it is and she just won't agree, as her mother it's for me to bear the blame. To make up to the go-between for the loss of face we've caused him by breaking the engagement, I'll just throw myself into the river. There's nothing else f o r it. (The following

is a kuriage sequence rising to a crescendo.)

O K U M A : Oh, Mum! I haven't actually said no . . . Z E N P A C H I : T h e n you'll agree? O K U M A : Well, I . . . O K I K U : Or would you send your mother to her death? O K U M A : Well, I . . . ALL THREE: Well? Well? Well? O T S U N E : Okuma! Like it or not, it's f o r the sake of the family! (She clasps her hands and weeps.) O K U M A : T h e n I guess I've got to do what's best. . . . O T S U N E : T h e n y o u ' l l accept him? O K U M A : Yes. (She weeps. Z E N P A C H I dabs his eyes.) O T S U N E : Well! That's a load off my mind. Z E N P A C H I : Now we're all agreed, I'll go tell the go-between it's definite. O T S U N E : If you would, Zenpachi. Z E N PACHI (Standing): Then, Madam . . . (he trots to the door) I'll be off with my tidings! (To percussion music, he runs off happily down the hanamichi.J O T S U N E : You've done the right thing, Okuma. Thanks to you the shop is saved that was about to topple, and your father can rest easy in his grave. I'll go in to the altar now and tell him the good news. (She goes within by door at left.) O K I K U (Coming up to O K U M A ) : Listen, Miss, by any chance, was that crying you were doing about our clerk Chushichi? (Sits left of her.) O K U M A : What! But how did you— O K I K U : You think you can hide it, Miss? It's me! I've been with you since we were small, we grew up together. I'd know about him like I'd know about anything.

SHINZA THE

BARBER

(CHUSHICHI enters right. About to go in, he spies the two women talking, quietly recloses the door, and eavesdrops.) If you've made a promise to him that you've got to break now, it was for your family h o n o r and you d i d n ' t have a choice. When he knows the reason, all he can d o is accept it and give you up. OKUMA: Well, then, I guess he should hear it straight from me. OKIKU: If it's hard for you, I'll be glad to talk to him myself. OKUMA: Thanks, it's kind of you to offer. But where Chushichi's concerned, whatever happens . . . OKIKU: Yes? OKUMA: He'll be a hard man to forget, that's all. (CHUSHICHI comes in. He is dressed in blue kimono with a navy

half-apron.)

CHUSHICHI: I'm back. OKIKU: Chushichi! OKUMA: You're pretty late, a r e n ' t you? CHUSHICHI (Sitting down to the right on floor): Madam sent me out to collect on some old bills, b u t everywhere I went I had the same bad luck. I'm late because it took a lot of time, going r o u n d and wrangling with everybody. OKUMA: W h e n you were late I d i d n ' t know what h a p p e n e d to you. I was worried. CHUSHICHI: Not as worried as I am about what's been h a p p e n i n g to you. OKUMA: You mean the engage— (C H U S HIC HI holds up a hand to silence her.) OKIKU: O h me, I've just r e m e m b e r e d , I'm in the middle of something in the kitchen! I'd better go and finish up. Miss, you tell Chushichi all about it. CHUSHICHI (Innocently): Tell me what? OKIKU: You'll find out soon enough. (She goes within by center door.) OKUMA (Coming down center steps): T h e thing is, Chushichi, something rather awkward's h a p p e n e d . (Sits.) CHUSHICHI (Sitting by her): Actually, Miss, I must confess I was listening at the d o o r just now. Allow me to wish you every happiness. OKUMA: Happiness?! How could I be happy! If you heard, then I d o n ' t have to tell it all again. But Mum threatened to j u m p off a bridge if I refused, so I only said all right to calm h e r down. But in fact I can't go through with it, n o matter what it costs me, so I think that we should run away together and elope. CHUSHICHI: Oh, no, Miss, that would never do. I'm h o n o r e d that you think so highly of me, and I never will forget you. But you must fulfill your duty to your family. And I'm in your family's employ, I could never be so disloyal. OKUMA: O h Chushichi, you're so good! How can I ever give you up! (She throws herself on his lap and weeps. SHINZA

the barber enters briskly along

the hanamichi, carrying his hairdressing chest. He is dressed in dark kimono with

SHINZA THE

BARBER

a lacquer tobacco pouch hanging from his obi at the rear. He approaches the door, then stops to eavesdrop.) OKUMA: I mean it, Chushichi, I'll never marry him, so we might as well elope. CHUSHICHI: You mustn't say that, it's unfilial. OKUMA: I d o n ' t care! I'll never marry him or anyone they pick for me! CHUSHICHI: Oh, Miss, you're not listening to a single word I say! OKIKU (Entering center): Miss, you're mother's calling you; she wants you inside. OKUMA: We're not finished talking yet. OKIKU (TaAz'ng-OKUMA's hand): O h , do come along! (She drags her within at center.) CHUSHICHI: Unfilial she may be, but she's sure hard to resist! Ah, me. (He mopes. SHINZA creeps off quietly from the door, turns around, and, to offstage drum and song, trots toward it, making deliberate noise with his clogs. He sticks his head in.) SHINZA: Chushichi! I was booked to the gills today, thought I'd never get away. Now then, let's d o you up. (He comes in.) CHOSHICHI: Oh, Shinza. We have an a p p o i n t m e n t today, haven't we? Listen, as it happens, I'm a bit pressed now, how about tomorrow? SHINZA: Tomorrow I'm booked solid, n o can do. If you haven't got time for the whole works now, what say we just touch it up? CHUSHICHI: Well, all right, if you say so, just a touch-up, then. SHINZA: You got it! (SHINZA leaves his chest and goes directly up to the center door and peeks inside to see that they are not overheard.) CHUSHICHI: Shinza! Shinza, what are you doing? SHINZA (Coming downstage): I've heard all about your problem, Chushichi, and I'm glad to give you my advice. CHUSHICHI: What do you mean, my problem? SHINZA: We can talk about it while I'm doing you. (He brings his chest and stands behind the seated CHUSHICHI

for the hair-

dressing business, which continues through the following dialogue, punctuating

rhythmically

his speech with his actions. Using tools from the chest drawers,

SHINZA uses pantomimed but precisely realistic movements, exaclingly overdone, to the delight of the audience. He folds a towel carefully around CHUSHICHI's collar. He puts a hairpin through his topknot and wraps it with a twist of paper to anchor it. From a dish attached to the top of the chest, he takes pomade and swiftly fingers it along CHUSHICHI's swept-up sides and back hair, then recombs these with various-sized combs, struggling delicately with tangles, does the same to the topknot, then evens the ends of it with exact snips of a tiny scissors, etc.) SHINZA: Y'know, Chushichi, won't get you anywhere, playing things so close to the vest.

SHINZA

THE

BARBER

C H U S H I C H I : What things? S H I N Z A : What, he says. Okuma! What are you going to do about her, then? C H U S H I C H I : Miss Okuma's my employer's daughter, what am I supposed to do? S H I N Z A : Your employer's daughter's got a bridegroom moving in. Better you should run away with her, go on. C H U S H I C H I : What a thing to say! S H I N Z A : I'm being honest with you! You got to beat them at their own game, let me tell you. From what I hear around, the bridegroom'll be on your doorstep any day now. Now's your perfect chance. Be a man already, take her o f f and marry her. C H U S H I C H I : Since you know so much about it, I might as well tell you, she suggested just that very thing. But it would be unconscionable. It would g o against my duty to her family. S H I N Z A : Look at it like this. You think your duty to her family means you got to keep away from her, okay. But you think a woman's going to see it in that light? In her book she gets the brush-off from a guy she's made an o f f e r to, on top of that you think she's in the m o o d to marry this mug too ? What kind of scene you think she's going to make? And when the day comes that she throws herself o f f of some bridge somewhere, what you call discretion now will be exactly what it is, neglect! And what you're telling me is loyalty you'll see as just its opposite, a shaft. C H U S H I C H I : You're right, I never thought of it like that. When you put it that way, maybe I owe it to her family. But even so, eloping is impossible. S H I N Z A : Nothing is impossible! It's all just a matter of making up your mind. You know how she feels. Take her away; you'd be doing her a favor. Plus the fact you'd show her the whole world out there she's never seen. Chushichi, you would be so smooth! C H U S H I C H I : I guess I would, b u t . . . I'm an orphan. My parents died when I was small and relatives looked after me. Even if I did take her away, I've got nowhere to take her to. S H I N Z A : That all that's stopping you? N o problem. You can come to my place if you want. C H U S H I C H I : Your place? S H I N Z A : It's just a little dump out Fukagawa way, but f o r hiding out it's made to order. C H U S H I C H I : Well, then, I just possibly might take you up on that kind offer, b u t . . . oh dear, it's such a lot to ask. S H I N Z A : Never mind "just possibly," just take her out of here and come! There, all done! (He whisks the towel off C H U S H I C H I ' s collar and starts packing his tools away.

SHINZA

THE

BARBER

Shinza the Barber ( O n o e Shoroku II) dresses the hair of Chushichi ( O n o e Baiko VII) while cynically advising the young man t o abandon loyalty and elope with his master's daughter: " W h a t you call discretion n o w will be exactly what it is. neglect! A n d what you're telling me is loyalty you'll see as just its opposite, a shaft." (Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum o f W a s e d a University)

To the sound of tsuke beats C H O M A T S U hurries in from right. He is about ten years old, dressed as a shop boy in short, checked kimono, black apron, and paleblue leggings. He declaims his lines loudly, punctuating

them by flinging

his body

into broad, kabuki-esque poses.) C H O M A T S U : I am hot on the trail of Shinza! (He opens the door.) Aha, Shinza, I have run you to ground! Stay where you are! (Poses with outstretched arms.) S H I N Z A : Who else? Chomatsu from the stationer's, always making like an actor. C H O M A T S U : My master has been waiting! C o m e with me at once! (Poses with raised fist.) S H I N Z A (Wiping his hands): Tell him I'll be right along. C H O M A T S U : My orders were to track you down and bring you with me! C H U S H I C H I : Chomatsu, you like the theatre, do you? C H O M A T S U : I intend to go on the stage!

SHINZA THE

BARBER

S H I N Z A : D o t h e y t a k e g u y s as h o r r i b l e as y o u ? C H O M A T S U : A l l right already, S h i n z a , j u s t h u r r y u p . S H I N Z A : C o o l it. I ' m c o m i n g . (He goes to the door with C H U S H I C H I

following.)

C h u s h i c h i , a b o u t o u r c h a t , y o u m a k e u p y o u r m i n d , l e a v e w o r d at T o r a t h e h a i r d r e s s e r ' s at W a g o k u B r i d g e . C H U S H I C H I : I will, as s o o n as I d e c i d e . C H O M A T S U : Shinza, c o m e on! S H I N Z A : K e e p y o u r p a n t s o n ! I said I ' m c o m i n g ! ( C H O M A T S U grabs S H I N Z A 's sleeve and pulls him off

right.)

C H U S H I C H I : S h i n z a was so k i n d j u s t now. I'll t h r o w duty to t h e w i n d s . I g u e s s . . . (he shuts the door; k i ) I'll h a v e to c h a n g e m y p l a n s ! ( C H U S H I C H I poses determinedly with his hand lucked into his kimono breast, then he removes his apron, folds it, and prepares to go within,

as the stage revolves.

A c t I, s c e n e 2 T h e Riverbank at Eitai Bridge (Night. In the dim light, a curved, railed bridge rises from center left and pears at left. A painted

disap-

backdrop shows the river and distant city roofs on the

opposite shore. At right is a tea stall, closed up for the night with a reed blind partially

covering it. Willow at center right. Curtain

then heavy-rain

drum pattern.

opens to river drum

and

Various T O W N S F O L K extras run across the stage

and bridge, heads covered against the rain, and exit. A palanquin

comes in

along

the h a n a m i c h i with O K U M A ' s hem peeking out from under the closed

blinds.

S H I N Z A ' s apprentice,

skirts

tucked up, follows

K A T S U , with a scarf over his head and kimono

and directs the P A L A N Q U I N

the bridge and out. To offstage "riverbank"

B E A R E R S at a fast trot over

music, S H I N Z A and C H U S H I C H I

enter slowly along the h a n a m i c h i in a follow-spot,

sharing an umbrella. S H I N Z A ' s

kimono is tucked up to reveal his legs.) S H I N Z A : L e g g o , C h u s h i c h i , we c a n ' t b o t h b e h o l d i n g t h e u m b r e l l a . L e g g o ! (He wrests it away.) C H U S H I C H I : O f c o u r s e we c a n ' t b o t h h o l d it, so i n s t e a d o f that, t h e o n e w h o ' s h o l d i n g it s h o u l d b e h o l d i n g it f o r b o t h o f us. S H I N Z A : H a r d l u c k , isn't it? A n d s t o p g l o m m i n g o n s o c l o s e to m e . I ' m sick o f tripping over your feet. C H U S H I C H I : B u t if I d o n ' t walk n e x t to y o u I'll g e t all wet. S H I N Z A : Full o f c o m p l a i n t s , a r e n ' t y o u ? (He strides ahead, with the umbrella, him but stumbles, CHUSHICHI: Ow! S H I N Z A : N o w what?

snapping

onto the main stage. C H U S H I C H I runs

the thong on his clog.)

after

SHINZA

THE

BARBER

Chushichi (Nakamura Hashinosuke III) kneels at the foot of Eitai Bridge, trying to mend a broken thong on his clog. Shinza (Nakamura Kankuro V) casually holds the umbrella over his shoulder as he turns back: "Full of complaints, aren't you? You want to fix it, fix it. I'm going." (Umemura Yutaka, Engeki Shuppansha)

C H U S H I C H I : T h e s e c l o g s are so c h e a p , t h e t h o n g ' s t o r n o f f . (He displays the broken S H I N Z A : Y o u g e t w h a t y o u pay f o r . (He starts off toward the

clog.)

bridge.)

C H U S H I C H I : Wait, Shinza. S H I N Z A : You got a problem? ( C H U S H I C H I kneels and starts twisting into a

a piece of paper from

inside his

kimono

cord.)

C H U S H I C H I : I ' l l j u s t f i x this t h o n g h e r e , so wait a s e c o n d , will you? S H I N Z A : Y o u w a n t to f i x it, fix it. I ' m g o i n g . C H U S H I C H I : W a i t , S h i n z a , s t o p b e i n g so m e a n ! S H I N Z A : W h o , me? C H U S H I C H I : L o o k at h o w it's p o u r i n g d o w n in b u c k e t s a n d I c a n ' t g o o n b e c a u s e m y t h o n g is b r o k e n a n d y o u ' r e j u s t s t a n d i n g t h e r e all n i c e a n d d r y with t h e umbrella I ' m the o n e w h o bought, and ready to g o o f f alone and leave m e h e r e a n d y o u d o n ' t call that m e a n ? S H I N Z A (Coming

downstage):

Y o u ' r e t h e o n e w h o b o u g h t it, m y e y e ! I ' m t h e o n e w h o

w e n t a n d g o t it, plus t h e c l o g s , b e c a u s e y o u c o u l d n ' t stand a little rain, a n d I ' m t h e o n e w h o ' s b r o u g h t y o u this f a r g i v i n g y o u s p a c e u n d e r it! Y o u g o t a nerve.

SHINZA

C H Ü S H I C H I (Chastened,

THE

BARBER

he changes his tune): Y o u ' r e a b s o l u t e l y right, S h i n z a , it's all

m y f a u l t a n d I a p o l o g i z e . W h a t a silly t h i n g to fight a b o u t , w h o b o u g h t t h e u m b r e l l a . I k n o w I must b e g e t t i n g o n y o u r n e r v e s , p l e a s e d o f o r g i v e m e . S H I N Z A : A l l right, I ' l l f o r g i v e y o u , j u s t f r o m n o w o n w a t c h y o u r m o u t h . (He starts

off.)

C H Ü S H I C H I : S h i n z a , wait! S H I N Z A : W h a t , wait, y o u g o i n g to start with m e again? C H Ü S H I C H I : I ' m sure I must b e v e r y t a x i n g f o r y o u , a n d i f I k n e w t h e way t o y o u r p l a c e I ' d b e g l a d t o c o m e a l o n g t h e r e l a t e r . ( S H I N Z A notices the rain stopped and closes the umbrella.)

has

B u t t h e f a c t is that I d o n ' t k n o w , a n d I h a v e n t

g o t a l a n t e r n a n d w e ' r e in the m i d d l e o f a r a i n s t o r m . S o if y o u g o o n a h e a d , h o w a m I t o f o l l o w ? I m i g h t as w e l l b e b l i n d , so if y o u d o n ' t m i n d , y o u ' l l j u s t h a v e t o take m e with y o u . S H I N Z A : H o l d it r i g h t t h e r e . W h a t p o s s i b l e business c a n y o u h a v e at m y p l a c e ? C H Ü S H I C H I : W h a t business? W h y , t h e business y o u set u p f o r m e , m y e l o p e m e n t w i t h O k u m a . S h e ' s o n h e r way to y o u r p l a c e , w h e r e w e ' l l t r o u b l e y o u f o r hospitality. S H I N Z A : Y o u must b e d r e a m i n g ; g o t h r o w s o m e r i v e r w a t e r o n y o u r f a c e to w a k e y o u up. I d o n ' t k n o w w h a t y o u ' r e t a l k i n g a b o u t . C H Ü S H I C H I : I see w h a t y o u ' r e d o i n g ! Y o u ' v e m a d e a d u p e o f m e a n d m a d e o f f w i t h Okuma! S H I N Z A : A r e y o u f o r real? A s if I n e e d e d to g e t u p t o tricks l i k e that. T h e f a c t is I ' m the o n e O k u m a ' s g o t the hots for, and I ' m d o i n g her the favor o f taking h e r away. A n d it's m y business, n o t yours. C H Ü S H I C H I : S h i n z a , w h a t a r e y o u saying? A t t h e s h o p b e f o r e , y o u t o l d m e if w e w a n t e d t o g o o f f t o g e t h e r , y o u ' d p u t us b o t h u p at y o u r p l a c e . S o I d i d t h e i n e x c u s a b l e a n d ran o f f with m y m a s t e r ' s d a u g h t e r , a n d sent h e r o n a h e a d t o y o u r p l a c e . W h e r e w e ' r e g o i n g , w h e r e w e ' v e c o m e t o g e t h e r all this w a y — s h a r i n g o u r u m b r e l l a ! — a n d n o w y o u ' v e g o t the gall t o try t o tell m e y o u ' r e t h e o n e s h e wants? Y o u ' r e a m o n s t e r ! S H I N Z A : Y o u little p u n k , y o u ' r e t a l k i n g t h r o u g h y o u r hat. W h e n d i d I say I ' d p u t y o u u p , huh? C H Ü S H I C H I : B e f o r e , at t h e s h o p . S H I N Z A : W h a t k i n d o f s e t u p is this! C H Ü S H I C H I : Setup? S H I N Z A : Y o u ' r e s e t t i n g m e u p royally h e r e ! I g e t it! It b u r n s y o u u p O k u m a has run o f f to m a r r y m e . Y o u ' r e so stuck o n h e r that y o u c o m e t r a i l i n g a f t e r m e , sayi n g w h a t e v e r p o p s i n t o y o u r skull t o m a k e m e l o o k b a d a n d p e e l h e r o f f m e . A nerve you got! C H Ü S H I C H I : B u t w e ' r e in l o v e ! S h e said s h e l o v e s m e ! S H I N Z A : D o n ' t flatter yourself!

SHINZA THE

BARBER

(To tsuke beats, SHINZA slaps CHUSHICHI hard on the back with the umbrella.) CHUSHICHI: How dare you . . . SHINZA: Take a poke at you? You got a complaint? CHUSHICHI: Indeed I do! (He stands and grabs the umbrella, trying to pull it away. To tsuke beats,

SHINZA

throws him off and pitches him forward, where he falls. SHINZA holds him down with one foot on his shoulder.) SHINZA: Okay, listen up! (In seven-five meter [shichigocho] to offstage shamisen accompaniment.) Your itinerant barber, in a m a n n e r of speaking, has got one claim to fame: he's got to make his way in life, and gather his few pennies, by smiling, always smiling, charming his smooth way through the doors of all the merchants, and head clerks, and Chushichis, and all the other half-wits just like you. So the god of f o r t u n e will keep smiling too. But you need a good stock of umbrellas against a rainy day. Why should I share mine fiftyfifty with a guy who's so d a m n wet, leaves h o m e without a backward glance, and sets off in a downpour, rubbernecking r o u n d him for the girl he thinks is waiting, when in fact she's p u t one over on him good. You just got soaked, pal, just the way you should. Acting the lover is not u p your street; you're way over your head. It got you into this fix here, and now you're blaming me? I'm a man, you're nothing but a little sow's ear brazening it out as a silk purse. And now, your daintiness, I'll give you worse! (To tsuke beats, he rolls CHUSHICHI upright with a kick. As CHUSHICHI tries to stand, SHINZA hits him in the face with the point of the umbrella. CHUSHICHI puts a hand to his forehead: there is blood there.) CHUSHICHI: That does it! (He grabs his broken clog as a weapon and goes after SHINZA.

To tsuke beats,

a short, pantomime fight scene [tachimawari] ensues in which SHINZA evades CHUSHICHI's attempted blows and finally knocks the clog out of his hand with the umbrella. CHUSHICHI grabs the umbrella, but SHINZA shakes him o f f , sending him sprawling with a kick.) SHINZA: You asked for it! OFFSTAGE SINGER (A phrase from a "boat song" is heard): And the river wind it blows . . . (SHINZA throws open his umbrella with one shake and stalks out, chuckling, over the bridge. CHUSHICHI

starts after him but staggers dizzily and stops.)

CHUSHICHI: I could go and try to find the way, but I d o n ' t even know the address. Fukagawa's all he told me, and I d o n ' t know where I am. How could I find anything with all this rain flooding the roads, and anyway too dark to see an inch in f r o n t of me? Oh dear, what shall I do? (Deep, melancholy toll of a temple bell. CHUSHICHI

sinks to his knees in pain.

SHINZA THE

BARBER

Bell. Solo shamisen begins offstage, continuing until last stanza of the boat song is finished.) OFFSTAGE SINGER: Like the flow of a love letter / gushing from the pen I came / desire was my undoing. / I'm cast adrift upon a sea of love. C H U S H I C H I : Someone's singing a song on a party boat. I can hear it on the wind. It's my song. Desire was my undoing. I came this far without thinking, just like a love letter gushing from the pen. This far that I committed such a breach of duty, sold duty f o r the hope of consummation, and am now adrift at sea. And that pirate Shinza's duped me, and kidnapped my master's daughter, and there's no going home again. There can be nothing for it but to end it all right here, right in this river. (Bell. C H U S H I C H I wanders downstage and begins to fill his sleeves with stones.) OFFSTAGE SINGER: Pounding waves against the cliffs / drenching me in icy spray / lost like those love letters. / I'm cast adrift upon a sea of love. (During the song Y A T A G O R O G E N S H I C H I enters at right with a lantern, in a follow-spot. He is dressed elegantly in silk, with his matching haori folded

and

tucked into his kimono front and a pair of samurai swords through his obi at his hip. He spies CHUSHICHI

and slips behind the tea-stall blinds.

CHUSHICHI

holds his stone-filled sleeves with difficulty and sinks to his knees.) C H U S H I C H I : Please, my dear Okuma, forgive this coward here. Unable to go on, I'm leaving you in Shinza's clutches and abandoning you in death. (He dabs tears from his eyes and staggers toward the bridge. G E N S H I C H I creeps out and follows

him.)

OFFSTAGE SINGER: I end my life in longing / for her who led me here / cast adrift upon a sea of love. C H U S H I C H I : B u d d h a have mercy on me! (He rushes onto the bridge to jump but is stopped by GENSHICHI.

They struggle,

ad-libbing.) G E N S H I C H I : Don't be a fool, young fellow! I said hold on there, you'll hold on! (He succeeds in throwing C H U S H I C H I to his knees down right. C H U S H I C H I crouches there dejectedly as G E N S H I C H I fetches his lantern from the tea stall and comes back to take a look.) By gum, aren't you head boy at the Shirakoya? C H U S H I C H I : A n d you're boss of the neighborhood at Narimono-cho. G E N S H I C H I : Yatagoro Genshichi, that's me. (He squats by C H U S H I C H I and puts his lantern on the ground, collapsing its paper shell and leaving its candle exposed.) G o o d thing I'm a little late on my way home. Stopped to have a drink, wait out the rain. Now let's stop all this dying business, shall we?

SHINZA THE

BARBER

C H U S H I C H I : It was very kind of you to intervene, b u t it's j u s t n o t possible f o r m e to live, you see. G E N S H I C H I : Seeing you were o n your way off this bridge, I g a t h e r e d that. Now I d o n ' t d o u b t you've got reasons. But whatever they are, I ' m n o t the sort to let a fellow die o n c e I've saved him, so you m i g h t as well j u s t s i m m e r down. C H U S H I C H I : Since you've b e e n so kind, maybe I could tell you a little bit a b o u t it. . . . G E N S H I C H I : H a n g o n . You w o u l d n ' t want to air y o u r p e r s o n a l particulars o u t in t h e street, a n d this place gets s o m e traffic. W h a t say we go back to my watering hole, they've got a q u i e t corner. C H U S H I C H I : Whatever you say, sir. (Starting to stand.) Ow! GENSHICHI: S o m e t h i n g t h e matter? C H U S H I C H I : T h a t bully Shinza beat m e u p , it really hurts. (A brief sequence of "divided dialogue" [warizerifu]

ensues.)

GENSHICHI: D o n ' t worry, son, y o u ' r e y o u n g yet! Even in a t h i n g like this, n a t u r e will take h e r course . . . C H U S H I C H I : As led astray by love I fled, full knowing my d i s h o n o r . . . GENSHICHI: If I h a d b e e n a m o m e n t later . . . C H U S H I C H I : A precious life . . . GENSHICHI: Would have b e e n lost, as . . . (sound of wind and the candle flickers; ki) whoops! Nearly d o u s e d t h e candle! (The curtain music begins. GENSHICHI quickly raises the lantern shell and picks it up, helping CHUSHICHI

to his feet as the curtain

closes.)

A c t II, scene I Shinza's Place in F u k a g a w a , T o m i y o s h i - c h o (SHIN Z A ' j one-room tenement flat is all on stage-floor level, spread with worn tatami. A freestanding,

slatted door at right opens onto a tiny entryway space for

footwear. Upstage of this is a paper-paneled window above a makeshift kitchen set up in the up right corner with cooking brazier and utensil shelf Walls are stained and peeling, with a little altar on a shelf high on wall center, and a built-in closet up left with sliding, wooden, padlocked doors. Under the altar is a kimono on a hanger. Up right is a tall wooden fence separating the building from

neighboring

houses, with roofs visible above it and with an open gate through which

entrances

are made. A rain barrel with dipper is left of the fence. Inside on left wall shoji stand open onto a tiny yard separated from neighboring houses by a lattice wall. In the yard stands a wooden rack containing

rows of scruffy plants in pots.

Curtain

opens on KATSU, in blue-gray kimono, sitting cross-legged center with SHINZA's hairdressing chest, cleaning and arranging enters right and sticks his head in the door.) G O N P E I : Hey Katsu, boss out?

the tools. A nosy neighbor, G O N P E I ,

SHINZA

THE

BARBER

K A T S U : G o n e o u t to the bath. W h a t ' s up? G O N P E I : A w o m a n c a m e h e r e last night, d i d n ' t she? H e a r d h e r crying. Today the n e i g h b o r s are all t a l k i n g — s a y she c o m e s f r o m over in the l u m b e r district. K A T S U : F r o m wherever, all I k n o w ' s the boss took u p with h e r a while back. B e e n at h i m to let h e r m o v e in, so last n i g h t h e b r o u g h t h e r r o u n d . D u n n o , m a y b e it d e p r e s s e d her, she started carrying on. Sorry f o r the racket. G O N P E I : She g o n e h o m e , then? K A T S U : N a h , we p u t h e r in the closet so h e r b l u b b e r i n g w o u l d n ' t b u g the n e i g h b o r s . G O N P E I : W h o e v e r she is, she's not m u c h of a daughter. H e r folks must b e worried sick. K A T S U : P e o p l e gotta d o what they gotta do. (From the back of the auditorium

comes the F I S H M O N G E R S cry.)

F I S H M O N G E R : Fresh fish! Fresh fish! (To offstage song "Satsuma," the F I S H M O N G E R trots in along the h a n a m i c h i , shouting his call, carrying over his shoulder a long pole with a wooden basket swinging from each end. He wears a vendor's h a p p i and a white bandanna

twisted

into a headband. S H I N Z A swaggers in on high clogs behind him, chic in his bathhouse gear. He wears a crisp, white, cotton kimono [yukata] hitched up and patterned with the actor's own crest [ m o n ] , with a small towel [ t e n u g u i ]

slung

over his shoulder. He calls to the F I S H M O N G E R , wanting a fish, and they dicker over price. Finally agreeing, the F I S H M O N G E R comes onto the main stage and sets his baskets down at right outside the door, while S H I N Z A goes inside.) S H I N Z A : Katsu, get a bowl. ( K A T S U fetches a bowl from the up right kitchen corner and hands it to the FISHMONGER.; K A T S U : Y o u buy s o m e t h i n g , Boss? S H I N Z A : G o t us a fish. ( S H I N Z A turns upstage as K A T S U whisks off the hanger a bluegray kimono identical to his own and holds it up between S H I N Z A and the audience. Under its cover S H I N Z A shrugs out of his yukata and gets into the kimono. Calling outside.) We'll slice it u p ourselves, so j u s t halve it f o r us, willya? (With throwaway remarks from all, particularly G O N P E I ' s about the FISHM O N G E R 's exorbitant prices, the latter squats and deftly prepares the fish on a cutting board balanced on his basket. The fish, used specially in this scene to the invariable delight of the audience, is a realistic wooden dummy about twenty inches long with a detachable head, trailing red-silk "guts, " and a body that splits into two halves, revealing the inner red meat divided by brightly painted white bones. F I S H M O N G E R hands the halved fish in its bowl to K A T S U , then starts to pack away his things, rinsing them off at the rain barrel.) G O N P E I : So w h a t ' r e y o u g o i n g to d o with the h e a d ? F I S H M O N G E R : This? I give t h e m to the dogs. G O N P E I : Aw, that's a waste. If y o u ' r e g o i n g to throw it away I'll take it, can I?

SHINZA THE

BARBER

F I S H M O N G E R : W h y not? (He gives the head to G O N P E I , who raises it to his forehead in

gratitude.)

G O N P E I : Much o b l i g e d ! My first b o n i t o o f the season! (He dances off happily to right carrying the fish head in both hands.) F I S H M O N G E R (Havingpacked

up): I'll be o f f , then.

S H I N Z A : H a n g on, f o r g o t to pay you. (He gives some coins to K A T S U , who gives them to the F I S H M O N G E R . J F I S H M O N G E R (Surprised at the amount):

O h , hey, I owe you change.

S H I N Z A : Change, nothing. Put it to my account. F I S H M O N G E R : G e e , thanks. (Rehoists his pole.) S o m e t h i n g g o o d comes in, I'll be back. (He exits stage right.) Fresh fish! Fresh fish! K A T S U : H e y Boss, handing it out like water here, aren't you? (He joins S H I N Z A sitting at a small brazier he has set out center left. S H I N Z A smokes his long, thin

pipe.)

S H I N Z A : T h e y ' l l be r o u n d f r o m the Shirakoya with some d o u g h soon. W e ' l l drink to it in advance. K A T S U : I'll bet they'll be round. N o w that sucker Chushichi knows you cadged their pride and joy. S H I N Z A (Indicating

closet): She make any ruckus in there while I was out?

K A T S U : Just when I thought she'd canned it, she suddenly starts up howling " l e m m e out, l e m m e out," so the o l d girl down the way comes r o u n d to have a l o o k ! I was mortified. S H I N Z A : W h a t d o we care if they c o m e s n o o p i n g round! (Deliberately raising his voice for the benefit of the neighbors.) We're

not d o i n g anything to be ashamed of.

She's here purely on the basis o f mutual consent. W e could care less w h o comes s n o o p i n g r o u n d ! K A T S U : Okay, so we could care less, but this d u m p is full o f vultures; what if they g o ratting on us? S H I N Z A (Loudly):

L e t them try! T h e y ' l l have to tackle m e first!

K A T S U : Boss, could you keep it down? L a n d l o r d finds out and w e ' r e in the soup! S H I N Z A : Yeah. Y o u ' r e right. N e i g h b o r s don't faze me, but that guy doesn't miss a trick. T h a t guy's the bane o f my existence, Katsu. K A T S U : Isn't he? (As offstage street song begins, K A T S U goes into the yard at left to employ a watering can on the plants. S H I N Z A joins him to inspect them. G E N S H I C H I enters along the hanamichi, dressed elegantly as before with his haori on and a fan. Z E N P A C H I follows along behind

deferentially.)

G E N S H I C H I : T h a t Shinza's place over there? Z E N P A C H I : That's it, that's what the landlord said just now. G E N S H I C H I : G o take a peek, see if he's in. Z E N P A C H I (Trembling):

H e ' s in, he's in.

carrying

SHINZA THE

BARBER

GENSHICHI: W h a t ' r e you shaking for? ZENPACHI: Shinza scares me silly. GENSHICHI: Yellow, are you? (They come onto the main stage, and ZENPACHI peeks through the door. SHINZA and KATSU are in the yard tending their plants.) ZENPACHI: He's in there—! ("GENSHICHI shushes him and approaches the door with ZENPACHI

following

hesitantly.) GENSHICHI: Anyone home? This Shinza's place? KATSU (Entering): Who's there? (He looks through the door and hisses at SHINZA.) It's the Narimono-cho boss! SHINZA: Hell's he want with us? (Calling out.) Come on in! (To KATSU.) Put a cushion out! ("KATSU puts a cushion left of the brazier and dusts the area furiously with his fan. SHINZA comes forward to welcome GENSHICHI with false politeness. GENSHICHI enters with equivalent politeness and sits on the cushion by the brazier, putting his long sword down beside him, while ZEN PAC HI crouches fearfully

in

the corner near the entryway. KATSU prepares tea in the kitchen corner. SHINZA sits center, perfunctorily fanning

in G EN S HIC HI's direction. Small talk.)

GENSHICHI: T h e truth is I've come to call today about the Shirakoya business. ZENPACHI: I took it on myself to bring him. We requested that h e intervene. SHINZA: I wish you h a d n ' t gone to all the trouble. If I have to deal with you I ' m so far outranked that I'd say yes to anything! I'll have to ask you n o t to get involved. GENSHICHI: I'm involved already. You know who I am. You'll listen to what Yatagoro Genshichi's got to say to you. (Thumpingfrom

closet.)

SHINZA: Shut u p in there! You wanted me to bring you here, I b r o u g h t you! I got a guest out here, for chrissake! (Bowing to GENSHICHI.) Forgive the interruption. Katsu, isn't that tea d o n e yet? KATSU: Just coming, Boss. (He brings tea and a smoking box to GENSHICHI and retires to the kitchen corner.) GENSHICHI: Fact is, Shinza, on my way h o m e last night I passed by Eitai Bridge and who did I find b u t the young fellow f r o m the Shirakoya all set to j u m p off. I managed to stop him and he told me the story. Now I d o n ' t know what you've got planned, but there are laws, and mighty strict ones, about taking young girls off against their wills. D o n ' t think I d o n ' t know the score. You know who I am. I'm a man who's been a r o u n d a while, and I'm the o n e who's speaking for the family. You've already crossed the line here, and as my turf is your stomping g r o u n d , I'm the one you're going to have to deal with, whether you like it or not. SHINZA: You got this thing all wrong. I d i d n ' t steal this girl. I got customers at Shira-

SHINZA THE

BARBER

koya. At first I ' d j u s t touch u p h e r hair every now and then when I was there. We got a little friendly. O n e night I ran into h e r on h e r way back f r o m the temple. Took h e r to a r o o m I know, hairdressing establishment, guy d o e s n ' t ask any questions. T h a t ' s w h e r e it b e g a n . A f t e r that we started m e e t i n g on the sly, g o i n g o f f to this place or to that, till finally this m a r r i a g e was a r r a n g e d f o r her. S h e b e g g e d m e to e l o p e with her. I took the leap a n d b r o u g h t h e r h e r e last night. (Thumping

in protest from closet.) Shut u p in there, I ' m in the

m i d d l e of a story! (To G E N S H I C H I. j But you know how it is. S o o n as she gets h e r e , the place isn't g o o d e n o u g h , she c a n ' t live here, she says, what does she know about life? S h e wants a nice house, she d o e s n ' t want m e traveling f o r business. So I say okay, we can move s o m e p l a c e better, but she's still crying a n d carrying o n , and after a while I ' m thinking it's n o j o k e , what about the neighbors? So I had to tie h e r u p a n d put h e r in the closet. But I d i d n ' t b r i n g h e r h e r e against h e r will. You got to understand that. G E N S H I C H I : Y o u r story's as weak as this tea. Y o u ' d try to m a k e m o n e y o f f anything. T h i s is an heiress y o u ' v e got here, only d a u g h t e r of a m e r c h a n t house. N o d o u b t y o u ' r e figuring about a h u n d r e d f o r y o u r take, but you d i d n ' t c o u n t on d e a l i n g with Yatagoro Genshichi. You may not like it, Shinza, but y o u ' d better let me h a n d l e this. (He takes from his kimono a wrapped packet of gold pieces.) Take this m o n e y a n d return the girl. (He losses the packet across the floor to S H I N Z A , who happily takes it.) S H I N Z A : You've g o n e to all this trouble, whatever can I say. . . . (He has unwrapped

the

packet and seen what it contains.) Ah . . . f o r this m o n e y y o u ' r e telling me to give u p the w o m a n I e l o p e d with? G E N S H I C H I : I d o n ' t e x p e c t you'll be entirely happy, but you c a n ' t r e f u s e . S H I N Z A : F o r the ten gold pieces here? G E N S H I C H I : Yes. S H I N Z A : Nuts to you! (He hurls the money at G E N S H I C H I , hitting him with it.) G E N S H I C H I : What the . . . ! (Furious,

he grabs his sword.)

S H I N Z A : I ' m throwing it back in y o u r f a c e , that's what! ( S H I N Z A and G E N S H I C H I pose, to tsuke beats, in a face-off down. Z E N P A C H I , gesturing frantically in restraining

him from further

staring each other

at G E N S H I C H I from his corner, succeeds

action.)

S H I N Z A : W h e r e the hell you b e e n , calling this ten b a r g a i n i n g money! I did this girl a favor, taking h e r away. She c o u l d n ' t f a c e h e r marriage, would've thrown herself o f f of some b r i d g e s o m e w h e r e . Shirakoya rather see h e r die a n d e n d the bloodline? I ' m the o n e who saved h e r life! D o n ' t think I ' d m i n d b e i n g rid of her, but look who's c o m e to pick h e r up! A big noise in the n e i g h b o r h o o d with your two names, a r e n ' t you, s p e n d all y o u r time in the brothels l o r d i n g it over y o u r hookers, guys like you, you m a k e me sick. If this rickshaw m a n

SHINZA

THE

BARBER

Zenpachi here came and asked me nicely I ' d give her back f o r nothing, but not to you, you bag of wind. I ' m a petty jobber, I ' m a barber, flattery's my business and I kiss plenty butt, but you and me, we're even Steven. Where the hell do you get o f f looking down your nose at me, thinking all you got to do's announce your fancy name and I'll collapse? Hey. I got a record, I am nobody's patsy. From the time I was a kid in the boondocks, out in Kisarazu, I been on the streets, living f r o m hand to mouth. You want to see? (He flips up his sleeve to show his prison tattoo, a blue band round his forearm.) I got a tattoo here, that's who I am! You think I ' m such a chump you can just snow me into giving up the girl? Katsu, look at this. For this he calls himself a gang boss. Does this guy make you puke? KATSU: H e does. Revolting, isn't he? G E N S H I C H I (Stifling his fury with great effort to maintain his dignity): Shinza, you've done a fine j o b insulting me. You might even say you've gone overboard. But there's not a soul who doesn't know my name from one end of this town to the other. Unlike yourself, on my arms I've got scars. I got them all in street fights. Ten years ago, I'd have a g o at you and take you out. But I ' m over forty now and I tend to look before I leap. I can't g o popping o f f like a maniac at every drop of a hat. So f o r now, I'll leave it as it is. (He flips open his fan and flaps it, containing himself with

difficulty.)

S H I N Z A : If you're so old and wise you should've looked before you leapt into my business. I'd heard you were a fast guy on the draw. I didn't think it only meant your mouth. (As G E N S H I C H I is about to explode, Z E N P A C H I rushes over, bowing and scraping, to calm him down. Z E N P A C H I begs him not to be hasty and get the Shirakoya into further difficulties. After a short argument, Z E N P A C H I prevails. The two get up to lake their leave, Z E N P A C H I collecting the discarded money, i o S H I N Z A and KATSU's continuing G E N S H I C H I (Turning

taunts.)

at the door): Don't think I ' m running away from this.

KATSU: Nah, you're just running out of steam in your old age. S H I N Z A : Mustn't be rude, Katsu, this is a gent with two names. KATSU: Oh sorry, so it is. G E N S H I C H I : Just this once . . . I'll bite my tongue. ( G E N S H I C H I slams the door behind him.

G E N S H I C H I aredZENPACHI

start to walk off, O K A K U enters to waylay them. She is a dumpy little woman with a posture like a vulture, dressed in a drab kimono. She perpetually wears a towel round her collar to protect it from her hair pomade.) O K A K U : Wait up a second, will you, sir? G E N S H I C H I : Who's this? Z E N P A C H I : T h e landlord's wife, fellow we talked to before.

SHINZA THE

BARBER

O K A K U : My old m a n was j u s t saying if Mr. Yatagoro's h a n d l i n g it, t h e m a t t e r will b e settled to all o u r satisfactions. But that Shinza is a slippery customer, a n d it w o u l d n ' t h u r t to have a l a n d l o r d ' s clout on your side, a n d to let h i m know it. So we t h o u g h t y o u ' d like to have a little chat a b o u t the p r o b l e m , why d o n ' t you c o m e over f o r a while? GEN SHI CHI: T h a t ' s very kind of you, b u t I've, ah, got a bit of business to a t t e n d to s o m e w h e r e else. Z e n p a c h i h e r e can fill you in on all t h e details. OKAKU: T h e n y o u ' r e going? GENSHICHI: To b e f r a n k , I'd b e embarrassed to b e seen by all t h e n e i g h b o r s . If you'll forgive m e . ZENPACHI: I'll go over to t h e l a n d l o r d ' s , t h e n . GENSHICHI: Please do, Z e n p a c h i , if you would. T h e n , I'll take my leave. (GENSHICHI bows elegantly and moves off toward the h a n a m i c h i as the offstage street song starts, a n d Z E N P A C H I aradOKAKU exit right. GENSHICHI stops at shichisan, rage and humiliation

surfacing on his face. Trying without entire success

to control his emotions, he slaps open his fan with one powerful flap and stalks off down iAe h a n a m i c h i , fanning

furiously.

KATSU watches from the doorway.)

KATSU: And g o o d r i d d a n c e ! (He throws a handful of salt out to purify the premises and slams the door.) T h e shadow of his f o r m e r self j u s t left. SHINZA: W h e n I threw that m o n e y at him, I t h o u g h t h e m i g h t go for me. I would've fixed it so h e ' d never show his face again in public. Too bad h e walked. KATSU: Me too, I was ready for a fight. All set to g r a b t h e kitchen b o a r d a n d p u t his legs o u t of commission. C r e e p w o n ' t p u t his m o n e y w h e r e his m o u t h is, will he? SHINZA: Speaking of m o u t h s , what a b o u t o u r fish? KATSU: Forgot all a b o u t it, what with that old windbag. I'll slice u p s o m e sashimi. SHINZA: While y o u ' r e at it, I got business in t h e closet. G i m m e t h e key. KATSU: I d o n ' t have it. SHINZA: I gave it to you when I went to t h e bath. H a n d it over. KATSU: I d u n n o , I h a v e n ' t got it. SHINZA: You're hopeless. What can I use to . . . I know. (He takes out his tobacco pipe and starts hammering on the padlock. He hits his finger.) O u c h . (Ki.) T h a n k s , you gave m e a blister! (Offstage curtain song. As SHINZA alternately sucks on his finger and

hammers

on the lock, the stage revolves.) A c t II, scene 2 Chobei the Landlord's in Tomiyoshi-Cho (Front room of a fancy businessman's

house, walled offfrom its neighbors by high

wooden fences upstage on both sides. A large, roofed entrance hall with lattice doors

SHINZA THE

BARBER

up right gives on to raised-platform, tatami room through sliding

lattice-and-paper

doors. Similar doors stage left lead to an inner room. The walls are green, and there are sliding doors up center and a built-in closet up left containing an iron-fitted, wooden dresser with large drawers. CHOBEI,

the landlord, sits left of center at a

low desk, doing his accounts. A brazier with teapot is behind him. He is dressed in an at-home haori and is wearing small, round, black-rimmed spectacles that fasten round his ears with cords. As the revolve locks in, OKAKU and ZENPACHI enter from right and go inside.) OKAKU: Pa, I've brought Zenpachi. You talked to him before. (She sits right of the brazier.) CHOBEI (Removing his spectacles): Zenpachi, is it? Come on in. ZENPACHI (Kneeling politely right of center): Thank you, sir. CHOBEI: A nasty business, this, from what you've told me. What became of Genshichi? (He puts away his accounts and moves the desk aside.) OKAKU: He had other things to do, he says, so he sent Zenpachi in his place. ZENPACHI: That's right, sir, and if we could prevail on you to use your influence to get the lady back, we would be very much obliged. CHOBEI: I said to Ma from the beginning that this would be a tough one. I even sent her round to have a look. But he's a wily skunk, that Shinza, and I'm afraid he isn't likely to pay any heed to me. ZEN PACHI (Bowing and scraping): Oh, but sir, Genshichi could do nothing. We must throw ourselves upon your power as a landlord to get the lady back. OKAKU: These people have been worried sick, Pa, after all. There's nothing left but they should turn to you. You know they're a good family, why not have a go? And I may be going way out on a limb by saying this right out, but maybe they would make it worth your while? (She makes the sign for "money" with her fingers. CHOBEI flaps a hand at her to silence her.) Tee hee. ZENPACHI: Oh yes, sir, the Shirakoya will do anything it can to show its gratitude. (He bows low.) CHOBEI: Well, Zenpachi, since you've got your heart so set on it, I'll see what I can do. But I warn you. Genshichi couldn't make a dent with ten. It's a disaster any way you slice it for the Shirakoya to be mixed up with a greased monkey like Shinza. You can't go offering him small change. If he decides to spread the word around about what's happened, the lady's never going to live it down, and it could put the kibosh on her chance to find a husband. It's absolutely vital that we keep this thing hushed up. We've got to give him a substantial piece of cash and settle this up quick. Or else the poor girl's left there and who knows what awful fate she's got in store. OKAKU: I wouldn't put it past that hooligan to sell her to a brothel out of spite. CHOBEI: Ma's right, the sooner we settle this the better. He's probably thinking in the

SHINZA THE

BARBER

h u n d r e d s , so I c a n ' t g o o f f e r i n g h i m j u s t ten. T e l l y o u w h a t . L e t ' s o f f e r h i m thirty. F o r t h a t I'll take h i m o n . Z E N P A C H I (Happily):

If y o u c o u l d settle it f o r thirty w e ' d b e very m u c h o b l i g e d .

O K A K U : Pa, y o u really t h i n k t h a t h e ' l l a g r e e to thirty? C H O B E I : It's u p to m e to t a k e it o u t o f his h i d e u n t i l h e d o e s . Z e n p a c h i , r u n b a c k a n d h a v e a w o r d with t h e family, s e e if thirty is all r i g h t . Z E N P A C H I : Actually, sir, t h e y g a v e m e a little e x t r a , in case h e d i d n ' t g o f o r ten. I've g o t thirty o n m e n o w that I c a n give y o u . (He takes a cloth wallet from his kimono and passes it to C H O B E I via O K A K U . ) C H O B E I : Y o u h a d thirty o n y o u all a l o n g ? O k a y , let's h a v e it. I'll j u s t m a k e s u r e it's all h e r e . (He opens the wallet as O K A K U peers keenly over his shoulder.)

C o m e on,

M a , s o m e tea f o r Z e n p a c h i . O K A K U : O h , sorry, s l i p p e d my m i n d . (As she goes to make tea, C H O B E I

counts.)

C H O B E I : R i g h t , it's all h e r e . (Puts wallet in his kimono.) W i t h this I s h o u l d b e a b l e to b r i n g S h i n z a r o u n d a n d s p a r e t h e p o o r girl a disaster. Ma, g e t m e m y g o o d j a c k e t . (She brings a folded h a o r i from the closet dresser drawer.) A n d g o g e t a p a l a n q u i n s e n t r o u n d to wait at S h i n z a ' s . O K A K U : N o w ? It's s u c h a waste o f m o n e y if t h e y ' r e w a i t i n g . C H O B E I : I ' m n o t g e t t i n g any y o u n g e r , I d o n ' t w a n t any s l i p u p s . O K A K U : B u t n o w ? It's s u c h a w a s t e — C H O B E I : M u s t n ' t b e a c h e a p s k a t e , Ma. D o n ' t y o u s e e , if we c a n settle this u p n i c e l y . . . (He raises his eyebrows

suggestively.)

O K A K U : N o k i d d i n g . T h e y ' r e a high-class family, t h e y ' l l g r e a s e o u r p a l m s g o o d ! C H O B E I : D o n ' t be vulgar! O K A K U : It's t h e b u s i n e s s w o m a n in m e . C H O B E I : W e l l , Z e n p a c h i , shall we g o ? (He goes toward the door.) A n d d o n ' t f o r g e t t h a t p a l a n q u i n , Ma. (Ad-libbing,

the two men exit right. A s O K A K U puts C H O B E I ' s discarded

into the dresser drawer, she

jacket

speculates.)

O K A K U : It's all very well to m i n d y o u r o w n b u s i n e s s , like they always say. B u t with landlords of a t e n e m e n t there's plenty g o i n g on. Always h a t c h i n g s o m e t h i n g , t h e lot o f t h e m in t h e r e , to g e t t h e i r h a n d s o n a f e w p e n n i e s , a n d if y o u w a n t a p i e c e o f t h e a c t i o n , y o u ' v e g o t to g e t i n v o l v e d . If w e c a n settle this o n e u p f o r t h a t h i g h f a l u t i n family, w e ' r e b o u n d to walk away w i t h , let's say, five. W i t h five I c o u l d g e t s o m e n e w c l o t h e s m a d e , a n d o n w h a t ' s l e f t t a k e m y s e l f to t h e k a b u k i f o r t h e day! O h dear, h e r e I ' m g o i n g o n like this a n d f o r g e t t i n g all a b o u t t h e p a l a n q u i n . T h a t p i c k y o l d g o a t will give m e w h a t - f o r ! (She

hurries

out, stopping to call offstage right.) Hey, n e x t d o o r , y o u h o m e ? I ' m r u n n i n g o u t f o r a p a l a n q u i n , j u s t k e e p a n e y e o n m y p l a c e , will y o u ? (She straightens

her

SHINZA THE

BARBER

clothes.) So m u c h tumult g o i n g on r o u n d h e r e , even in b r o a d daylight, you c a n ' t be too careful. Well then, I ' m o f f . . . (ki) f o r that commission! (She trots off left as the stage

revolves.)

A c t II, scene 3 S h i n z a ' s Place in F u k a g a w a , T o m i y o s h i - c h o ( S H I N Z A and K A T S U are seated by the brazier drinking fish off a red lacquer standing

sake and eating

tray. To their ad-lib dialogue,

CHOBEI

their

and

Z E N P A C H I enter right and briefly confer, Z E N P A C H I going off again at right. C H O B E I calls in at the door.) C H O B E I : A n y o n e h o m e ? You in there, Shinza? (He opens door.) Day o f f today? S H I N Z A : Yeah, I c a u g h t a little cold, took the day o f f , taking care of myself. C H O B E I : C o l d , eh? T o o bad. T h e r e ' s a nasty o n e g o i n g r o u n d . K A T S U : Whatever's g o i n g r o u n d , he gets it. C H O B E I : Does he? T h e n it's best to get it early, get it over with. (He enters. S H I N Z A vacates the cushion for him, brushing

it off with his fan, as K A T S U retreats to sit

up right. C H O B E I notices the sake.) I see y o u ' r e both taking y o u r m e d i c i n e . Best thing f o r a cold. T h a t sashimi y o u ' v e got there? Bonito? S H I N Z A : We got a n o t h e r half. You want it? C H O B E I : May I? Much obliged. My first bonito of the season. K A T S U : We'll send it over later, then. C H O B E I : N o , I'll take it with me. If you d o n ' t m i n d parting with it. G o o d of you, I thank you. (He sits on the

cushion.)

S H I N Z A : I guess y o u ' v e c o m e about the rent. C o u l d you give m e two, three days? C H O B E I : T h e rent's not why I've c o m e today. Today I've got a little proposition f o r you. S H I N Z A : You m e a n there's m o n e y in it? C H O B E I : You c o u l d say there's m o n e y in it. S H I N Z A : T h e n let's drink to it in advance. C H O B E I : D o n ' t m i n d if I d o , if you'll allow me to butt in h e r e on y o u r party. (SH I N Z A sits opposite C H O B E I at the brazier and pours him a drink. C H O B E I drinks, complimenting

the sake. S H I N Z A gives him a piece offish.)

T h i s is p e r f e c t timing.

T h o u g h t I h e a r d the fish-man earlier, a n d w h e r e was he but right h e r e ! (Pops fish in his mouth.) T h i s is s o m e fish! S H I N Z A : So what's this proposition all about? C H O B E I : O h , right. I ' m letting all these goodies g o to my h e a d , it slipped my mind. S H I N Z A : T h e goodies can wait. (He directs K A T S U to take away the tray to the kitchen corner and sits center.) C H O B E I : What I've c o m e a b o u t is the little matter of the girl you b r o u g h t h e r e last night f r o m the Shirakoya.

SHINZA THE

BARBER

S H I N Z A : Aw, listen, she's a real tough cookie, that o n e , she isn't worth y o u r time. C H O B E I : S h e can be a cookie or a piece of cake, it d o e s n ' t interest me, but I got the gist of what was g o i n g on h e r e last night f r o m y o u r n e i g h b o r G o h e i on the o t h e r side of the wall. T h e n I h e a r d the family sent r o u n d that blowhard Yatagoro G e n s h i c h i a n d you tweaked his nose f o r him. J u s t now Ma told m e a n d I h a d a g o o d laugh u p my sleeve. N o t h i n g better f o r a fellow's reputation as a guy with guts than taking all the s t u f f i n g out of a p o o b a h on a high horse. C o m e s in with the weight of the world on his shoulders a n d o f f e r s you a measly ten? T e n ' s an o f f e r f r o m a tightwad! T h e f a m i l y ' d give a d a m n sight m o r e to see this settled, so it looks like old G e n s h i c h i s k i m m e d too m u c h o f f the top. S H I N Z A : You better believe it! T h a t ' s j u s t it, if h e c a m e h e r e willing to deal straight with me, who cares if I d o n ' t like him, h e ' s got a r e c o r d w h e r e h e comes f r o m , after all. S o I f i g u r e I'll do him the favor of giving him a break, but no. I ' m the o n e who isn't g o o d e n o u g h , I ' m j u s t a lousy barber, h e can spit right in my eye with that c r u m m y pittance. So I threw it at him. T h r e w it in his f a c e and sent him o f f with his nose out of j o i n t . C H O B E I : T h r e w it at him did you? G o o d f o r you! How c o u l d you d o otherwise a n d call yourself a man? H a v e n ' t seen a n y o n e pull o f f a stunt like that in years. You've d o n e m e p r o u d as y o u r landlord, Shinza. I ' m not the sort w h o d o e s n ' t like to rent to wiseguys. Wiser the better, f a r as I ' m c o n c e r n e d , got n o t h i n g to say to boy scouts. S H I N Z A : I ' m always telling Katsu, y o u ' d have to g o a l o n g way to find a l a n d l o r d g o o d as you. K A T S U : O h , always. W e ' r e y o u r biggest fans. C H O B E I : I ' m m u c h o b l i g e d to h e a r it. So Shinza, maybe you c o u l d d o s o m e t h i n g f o r me. S H I N Z A : By s o m e t h i n g you d o n ' t m e a n the Shirakoya business? You d o n ' t have to put yourself to any trouble, please, d o n ' t bother. C H O B E I : N o trouble at all. I ' m happy to d o all I can f o r you if y o u ' r e on the ball. Now you can call it an e l o p e m e n t , but if the cards are on the table it's a k i d n a p p i n g , and y o u ' r e l o o k i n g prosecution in the eye. T h e family w o n ' t be c h e a p , but they want it settled fast and quiet, and they've sent me h e r e to tell you so. I ' m not a b o u t to mess with you in any way, so why not let m e h a n d l e it and get this lady h o m e . S H I N Z A : L o o k , I never said I w o u l d n ' t let h e r go. It all d e p e n d s on how it's h a n d l e d . I get y o u r standard g o l d e n h a n d s h a k e and I take a loss if she w o n ' t marry me. S h e ' s the only d a u g h t e r of a j o i n t with d o u g h , you know. So then again it always did have its financial aspect. . . . C H O B E I : I ' m f a m i l i a r with this line of reasoning. I know all a b o u t it, so you d o n ' t

SHINZA THE

BARBER

need to go over all the pros and cons for me. Give me a little credit, and I'll return the favor. You listen to me and I won't throw you crumbs the way Genshichi did, peanuts like that ten you wouldn't even look at. Listen, I'm an old man and I'm not too long on patience. First the family forks out the money, r i g h t ? T h e n you get it in your hand, okay? We'll compromise at thirty. I get thirty for you, and for that you keep your m o u t h shut and send the lady home. SHINZA: T h a n k you very much indeed. But I was all set to retire on this, so I really c o u l d n ' t take less than a h u n d r e d at the very least. CHOBEI: Got a real gift for bullshit, haven't you? If this girl really had run off with you, you'd be welcome to a h u n d r e d , you'd be welcome to two h u n d r e d , whatever you could get. But I keep on telling you, it boils down to kidnapping, and that's a sordid story. So you'll take thirty and you'll like it. SHINZA: You got my interests at heart, I know that, and ordinarily I'd be happy to take your advice. But this time I can't d o it, I just can't take thirty. CHOBEI: So whatever I say can't budge you, that it? SHINZA: Sorry, but it is. CHOBEI: Just can't get through to you, can I? T h e n have it your own way. But you're not finished listening because I'm not through talking. Try this on for size. I take you in to the authorities and give them an idea which way the wind is blowing here. Think they wouldn't listen? I'm on every citizens' committee on this turf. I'm on the Board of the Temples, I'm on the Board of the Shrines, I'm a m e m b e r of the Urban Posse Against Arson and Theft. T h e r e ' s nobody in town who d o e s n ' t know my name. I own a lot of property. If all I say to you goes in one ear and out the other, n o t h i n g could be simpler than getting you into a pair of handcuffs. But I'll tell you. You're my tenant. So you're family. How could any p a r e n t blow the whistle on his kid? So I won't r e p o r t you. And you'll take the thirty. SHINZA: So you won't r e p o r t me. If I were on the straight and narrow I'd be thrilled, I'd take the thirty, and I'd kiss your butt. But I hate to break it to you, but I been inside. I've d o n e time! When you look at Shinza (he flips up his sleeve to show his prison tattoo) you are looking at a hood! You wanna finger me and I go back inside, so what! I know the score in there! I keep my head down! I know how to get along! No one's g o n n a mess with me in there, I'm nobody's fool! CHOBEI: Will you stop this caterwauling, you're giving me a headache! Could we quiet down here, do you think? Could you stop throwing your weight a r o u n d and let me just get o n e thing straight? Now, what was it that you called yourself just now? I'm looking at a what? SHINZA: A hood. I said a hood.

SHINZA

THE

BARBER

I 12

Shinza ( O n o e Shoroku II), left, is f o r c e d t o listen t o his landlord, C h o b e i (Ichikawa ChushaVIII), right, brag o f his importance: "I'm o n every citizens' c o m m i t t e e o n this turf. I'm on t h e Board o f t h e Temples, I'm o n t h e Board o f t h e Shrines, I'm a m e m b e r o f t h e Urban Posse Against A r s o n and Theft.There's n o b o d y in t o w n w h o doesn't k n o w my name." Shinza's accomplice. Katsu (Bando MinosukeVII. later Bando Mitsugoro IX), watches helplessly. (Tsubouchi M e m o r i a l Theatre Museum o f W a s e d a University)

C H O B E I : What kind of moron advertises his tattoo!! You got any inkling what that mark you've got there means? They put it there to tell us you do not do well out in society. You've got a tattoo, pal, I didn't know it when I rented to you. Now I do know, I don't need to have you here another day. To look at you, I will admit, you come off pretty tough. But you've got crap f o r brains. S H I N Z A : What a rotten thing to say! I'm family! KATSU: Isn't he awful? S H I N Z A : How come I got crap f o r brains, how come? C H O B E I : Crap f o r brains was what I said and crap for brains was what I meant! You just drop in from fairyland? Who in their right mind would blow their horn to their own landlord about the very thing that they should walk on eggs to keep hushed up? You are a blithering imbecile! ( S H I N Z A pulls down his sleeve.) S H I N Z A : I was wrong. I'm sorry. I haven't got a tattoo. I apologize. C H O B E I : I'm aware that you were wrong. It's because I am aware that you will take the thirty and you'll like it!

SHINZA THE

BARBER

S H I N Z A : Yeah, but thirty, hey, I mean! C H Ö B E I : You d o n ' t like it, then f o r g e t it. I w o n ' t f o r c e it on you. It's that o r c o m e a l o n g to the authorities. Let's put it like that. S H I N Z A : You put it like that, I ' m u p a tree. Give m e a break. C H Ö B E I : You take the thirty o r we g o to the authorities. You a g r e e to take the thirty then or not? S t o p dithering, I h a v e n ' t got all day! ( Z E N P A C H I creeps in at right and listens at the door.) K A T S U : Listen, sir, I know it's not my place to i n t e r f e r e , but it d o e s n ' t seem the boss is really happy with the thirty, any way you slice it. C o u l d n ' t you find it in y o u r heart to m a k e it fifty? C H Ö B E I : You k e e p y o u r nose out of this. Thirty is my final offer. You d o n ' t want to take it, Shinza? T h e n w e ' r e o f f to the authorities. S H I N Z A : Y o u got m e u p a tree here. (A kuriage sequence of rapidly ascending pace reaching a crescendo

follows.)

C H Ö B E I : T h e n y o u ' l l take the thirty? S H I N Z A : But thirty, well, I m e a n ! C H Ö B E I : T h e n we g o to turn you in? S H I N Z A : Well . . . C H Ö B E I : Well? S H I N Z A a n d C H Ö B E I : Well . . . w e l l . . . w e l l . . . well? C H Ö B E I : Hey! Which is it! S H I N Z A : I guess I'll have to put myself into y o u r hands. C H Ö B E I : You s h o u l d ' v e said so sooner! But you had to f o o l a r o u n d . K A T S U : Well! I'll m a k e s o m e tea, then, shall I? C H Ö B E I : F o r a buck you'll d o anything. (As K A T S U serves tea, Z E N P A C H I opens the door.) Z E N P A C H I : O h , thank you so m u c h , sir. C H Ö B E I : A h , Z e n p a c h i . Shinza has finally c o m e to terms. Z E N P A C H I : All thanks to you, sir. You really are s o m e t h i n g . H e sent a great man like G e n s h i c h i o f f with his tail between his legs, but you took the wind right out of his sails. S H I N Z A (Glowering):

What's that?

Z E N P A C H I : Y o u ' r e n o match f o r y o u r landlord, are you! C H Ö B E I : Now, now, boys, let's cut this short. Z e n p a c h i , g o see if Ma has o r d e r e d u p the palanquin. Z E N P A C H I : It's waiting outside, sir. (He goes to the gate and signals

off.)

C H Ö B E I : Fine, fine. Now, I've got the m o n e y on me, so let's get the lady out of h e r e . (The palanquin

comes on and waits outside the door.) What are you waiting for,

let's step on it! S H I N Z A (Getting to his feet): Okay, okay, she's c o m i n g . (To K A T S U . ) G i m m e the key.

SHINZA THE

BARBER

(KATSU takes the key out of his kimono and hands it over.) You had it all along then, did you, numbskull? (SHINZA unlocks the closet and CHOBEI helps OKUMA out. ZENPACHI rushes in to help, untying her hands and removing the cloth round her mouth. SHINZA leans moodily against the up left doorway, his arm out through his kimono front, stroking his chin.) CHOBEI: O h dear, oh dear, poor thing, you've had a time of it. O K U M A (Bowing repeatedly): Oh, sir, how can I ever thank you? It's all thanks to you I can go home now. CHOBEI: No need to thank me, you just hurry on along. O K U M A : Mum must have been worried sick for all this time. What a wicked thing I've done. ZENPACHI: Your mother didn't sleep a wink all night. (With similar remarks, they bow and scrape their thanks to CHOBEI, who hustles them out.) SHINZA: Hey missy, come back any time you miss me! ZENPACHI (To CHOBEI): I'll come round with your commission, sir, then, shall I? CHOBEI: Commission, don't be silly, won't be necessary. KATSU: In a pig's eye it won't! (With profuse bowing and thanks to CHOBEI as he sees them offfrom the entryway, O K U M A is loaded into the palanquin, which goes off down the hanamichi followed by ZENPACHI, grinning and walking unevenly. In his excitement he has put on one of his own flat sandals and one o/CHOBEl's high clogs.) CHOBEI: Tsk! Lamebrain took one of my shoes. KATSU: Shall I go after him? CHOBEI: Nah. No need to bother. He'll come round with my commission later anyhow. (He comes in.) You did the right thing, Shinza, taking my advice. I'm glad to be associated with you. I'll buy you a drink sometime. A n d Shinza. I'm taking half your fish. (He sits on the cushion.) SHINZA: Sure. I'll give you half. CHOBEI: Yessir, she's a real dish, that one. SHINZA: Isn't she? CHOBEI: First time I've seen her, but I heard she was a looker. No wonder she's hooking herself a rich husband. (He fans himself complacently.) SHINZA (Sitting center): A h . . . you think I could have my money now? CHOBEI: Huh? You got it. SHINZA: Not yet. CHOBEI: Come on, I gave it to you! SHINZA: No, you didn't, you didn't give it to me. Did he, Katsu? KATSU: No sir, you didn't give it to us yet.

SHINZA THE

BARBER

C H O BE I (Feeling in his kimono): A h ! So I didn't. (Chuckling.)

Must be getting f o g g y in

my old age, clean slipped my mind! S H I N Z A : H a , ha, c a n ' t have that now, can we? C H O B E I (Expansively):

I tell you, Shinza, you p u l l e d o f f a real h u m d i n g e r here. I've

got to give you credit, you've got brass. N o t only did you get y o u r mitts onto a cute little d a m e like that, but you m a d e a tidy sum on it, to boot! K A T S U : I was the o n e w h o m a d e the actual grab, you know. Ran a r o u n d all night in the rain with a lantern. I'll get a little s o m e t h i n g f o r my trouble, too. C H O B E I : A n d so you should. You deserve to buy yourself s o m e t h i n g nice f o r y o u r pains. S H I N Z A : We'll buy ourselves plenty, but we n e e d the m o n e y first. How a b o u t it? C H O B E I : K e e p y o u r shirt o n , it's right here. W e ' r e cronies, a r e n ' t we, no n e e d to get all hot a n d b o t h e r e d . (He fishes the packet of money out of his kimono.) G o t it tucked away right h e r e as safe as houses. (He unwraps

it and gazes at it.) It's

all in gold. N e v e r get tired of l o o k i n g at gold. It's a sight f o r sore eyes. S H I N Z A : It sure is. C H O B E I : Okay, now, ready? (He slaps the gold pieces down with a flourish

one by one on

the floor between them in a neat line as S H I N Z A and K A T S U lean in and

watch

closely.) O n e , two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. S e e , there's ten. H o w ' s it look to you? S H I N Z A : L o o k s great. C H O B E I : Y o u ' r e a m a n after my own heart, Shinza. It looks great to me, too. he slaps gold pieces down in a new line underneath

(Again

the first.) O n e , two, three,

four, five. (He sweeps a pointing finger over the rows.) Ten on top. Five on the bottom. Right? Ten and five, that makes fifteen. T h e r e you go, all yours. C o u n t it if you like. S H I N Z A : A h . . . it d o e s n ' t quite a d d up. C H O B E I : H o w so? S H I N Z A : We did a g r e e y o u ' d get m e thirty. C H O B E I : We did. I said I ' d get you thirty, and I've got you thirty. S H I N Z A : B u t this is only fifteen h e r e . C H O B E I : G e t with it, will you? Y o u ' r e a gambler, you s h o u l d know with stakes this high you always take a risk. Now look here. T h e r e ' s ten on top. T h e r e ' s five underneath. Ten a n d five, that's fifteen, get it? A n d I take half y o u r fish. S H I N Z A : I'll give you half my fish, but there's still fifteen missing h e r e . C H O B E I : N o t too bright, are you? Guy with y o u r brass, pulled o f f a stunt like that, s h o u l d think a guy like you would know the score. But no, y o u ' r e out to lunch. S H I N Z A : A n d you re out to pasture, if you think that f i f t e e n ' s thirty! C H O B E I : W h e r e are y o u r brains? Now look h e r e very closely. ( S H I N Z A

concentrates.)

SHINZA THE

BARBER

Ten on top, five on the bottom. Ten and five make fifteen, right? ( S H I N Z A nods.) You follow me? And I take half your fish. S H I N Z A : I'll give you half my fish but where's my money! C H O B E I : Blockhead! G o stick your head in the rain barrel and see if it'll wake you up! We said thirty. Here's fifteen. I take half your fish. If it were any plainer it would bite you! ( S H I N Z A sits back on his heels, folds his arms across his chest with hands tucked into his sleeves, and studies the money intently. He knits his brows, tilting his head this way and that. Long

pause.)

S H I N Z A : I don't get it. (He looks at KATSU.,) Katsu, you get it? KATSU: Well, let's see. I'm not sure myself, but look, we know his reputation round here, right? And he's been saying all along, every time he counts the money out, he keeps on saying, "I take half your fish," he says. So possibly, it might be what he's really saying is that half of thirty is fifteen, and that's the half he's taking. C H O B E I : Brilliant! Well put, Katsu, you've got more brains than your boss. S H I N Z A : You mean to say you're taking half my money? C H O B E I : That's right. Payment f o r my services. I take half your thirty. S H I N Z A : T h e hell you do! You think you're going to mess with me like this, the deal is off! (He shovels up the gold pieces with his fan and pitches them at C H O B EI. He sits back, fanning furiously,

loosening his collar.)

C H O B E I : You don't want it? T h e n let's forget it. For my part I can live without giving it to you. (He starts putting the money away.) You think this is a deal you can turn inside out to suit yourself? Think you'll have everything your way and get away with murder, don't you? You had fifteen in your hand! You should be grateful, you should've bowed and scraped to get it and been done with me. But you had to turn your nose up at it, so now you're getting nothing, not one red cent. Instead here's what we'll do. We'll take ourselves to the authorities and turn you in, tell them all about what you've been up to. (Standing.)

Get up, you're coming with me.

(Kuriage sequence follows.) S H I N Z A : That's what you think. C H O B E I : T h e n would you rather take the fifteen here? S H I N Z A : Yeah, b u t . . . a whole half you're taking, isn't half a little bit excessive? C H O B E I : Not satisfied? Shall I report you? S H I N Z A : Well . . . C H O B E I : Well? S H I N Z A and CHOBEI (Staring each other down): Well . . . well . . . well . . . well? C H O B E I (With force): Shinza! Make up your mind before I pack you off! (Pause.)

SHINZA THE

BARBER

SHINZA: I always t h o u g h t I was the toughest n u t I knew, but you got me beat. Katsu! Is this a nerve or isn't it? KATSU: It is. CHOBEI: Think I've got a nerve, d o you, when you're just about to pocket such a h a n d s o m e sum? I'm a landlord renting to an ex-con, and my patience has worn thin in my old age. You going to sit there dithering forever? You d o n ' t like the deal, just say you d o n ' t like it. Next thing you know the handcuffs clap on, and Shinza, your head will take leave of your shoulders. SHINZA: Ouch! Will you layoff! CHOBEI: T h e n we're back to the fifteen. SHINZA: Back to the wall, I am. CHOBEI: What's that? SHINZA: I'm . . . well. I'll take it. (OKAKU creeps in stage right to listen at the door.) CHOBEI (Beaming): Take it's what you should've done, and said f r o m the beginning! (He unwraps the money.) Okay, ready? (He counts it out as before.) One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten! O n e . . . (As he is setting down the second row, OKAKU comes in.) OKAKU: Pa, hold it with that money! CHOBEI: Ma. What's up? OKAKU: He owes us two in rent. CHOBEI: So he does. I'd clean forgotten. I'll take that two out now, then. (He leaves thirteen gold pieces down and puts the rest away.) OKAKU: You d o n ' t take it now, you'll never get it. KATSU: Jeez, it's slipping through our fingers! SHINZA: You taking rent on top of it?! CHOBEI: You could've had it sooner, but you had to fool around. So two more gone. SHINZA: That's cruel, is what it is! CHOBEI: If I'm at fault here, we can just forget it. (SHINZA, about to take the money, stifles himself.) SHINZA: Nobody's saying anyone's at fault. CHOBEI: T h e n why d o n ' t you put a lid on it! All you do is dither! (SHINZA gathers up the money. OKAKU has discovered the fish in the kitchen corner.) OKAKU: I thought I'd h e a r d the fish-man. Nice-looking o n e you've got here, isn't it? CHOBEI: They've given us half. Take it with you when we go. KATSU: You're actually taking o u r fish? CHOBEI: What d o you mean, you gave it to me! How can I not take it? OKAKU (Examining the fish): A prime cut, too, what a beauty! (To the sound of tsuke, GONPEI comes running in from stage right in a tizzy.)

SHINZA THE

H8

BARBER

G O N P E I : W h e r e ' s the landlord! News! News! C H O B E I : W h a t news, Gonpei? M o n e y in it? G O N P E I : What's with you, always m o n e y ! A r o b b e r broke into your place! C H O B E I : A robber? O K A K U : Did he leave anything? G O N P E I : Leave?! H e left with all f o u r drawers f r o m your dresser, that's what! O K A K U : !!! (Shefaints

dead away.)

C H O B E I : Sonofabitch! K A T S U : Gee, then our f i f t e e n w o n ' t cover it, huh? C H O B E I : Cover it? C o v e r it? As if a measly fifteen, twenty's all I k e e p in my dresser! (He tucks up his kimono skirt and starts to run

out.)

G O N P E I : Wait. T h e missus is passed out! C H O B E I : W h a t d o I care! (He pushes past GONPEI

and jumps into his clogs, one high and one low. Sud-

denly he stops, leans into the kitchen corner, and grabs the half fish. He runs off stage right, fish in

hand.)

G O N P E I : W h a t about the o l d lady? K A T S U : Whatever, just get her out o f here. G O N P E I : Fat lot o f respect you've g o t f o r your elders! (He struggles to hoist O K A K U onto his back and staggers off with her to right.) S H I N Z A : So our bloodsucker landlord's b e e n relieved o f his wardrobe! Plus all the loot in there h e ' d socked away by putting the bite on guys like us. K A T S U : A t a low estimate o f ten per drawer, that's forty. S H I N Z A : Less our fifteen, which leaves him with a loss o f twenty-five. K A T S U : W h e n he took that two in r e n t . . . S H I N Z A : Boy, did that stick in my craw. K A T S U : But now, Boss . . . S H I N Z A : Yeah. (He belches. K i . ) I can breathe easy! (Curtain

music starts. S H I N Z A pulls his hands in through his sleeves to find the

money inside his kimono, indicating

that K A T S U will get his cut. With his hands

still inside, he pitches out through his kimono front one gold piece, which K A T S U catches, then another. As S H I N Z A ' s hands come out his sleeves again and he straightens his clothing, K A T S U pleads for more, but in vain. On this action, the curtain

closes.)

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Two portions of 3 \

i s assistant. S6suke (h4l|amura Sh.kan iV>.,

i the p | j | r performance. Shinlomi-za April 1877. Act i. scene 3. Koma'.suya Inn (upper right). f " " n e r samurai N a o ( W s w u S a d a p I) H j s o n the

Kosuke's

anda as he unwin|| the obi of Shige.-u

character "ne

he act of seducing her. Shigeru'* disguise «-¡dudes male

Act III. scene ¡.the Villa at Kouma hower left)' Nao. kneeling

ono. masculine-jMe cropped hair (mnpjn), and a t

center, narrates his stew a attempting to extort money !rom

¡11, Western-Style valise at her feet. Po daughter. O y o s h i (Iwai Hansh.ro VIII). her father. Tokura emon (Nakamura Nakazo III), and their servar (Ichikawa Arajiro I). A c t II. scene 3. J.nbd Res.der

indicate that the acto' is ichikawa i

I, right while Sosuke. left, watches Masamichi's J hair {JQiig/n) indicates his m o d e r n ideas, i to N a o and Sosuke. w h o wearTokugawa-period hairdos with I pates. Act IV. the Journey by the Syrnida River (u

-.gr-T). government official jinbd Masamichi ( N a k

left): Shigeru raises a short sword to kill Nao. Masamfchi.

S&juro I), kneeling o n the veranda, hold;, a letter e»:p!a'ning

right, and Kcsuke. left, watch N a o ' s death. (Tsuboucl

vhy Shigeru nas stolen two hundred yen. tn the gan

if Theatre M u s e u m of W a s e d a University)

«

The Woman Student Onna Shosei Shigeru

Kawatake

Mokuami

TRANSLATED

["IN

BY V A L E R I E L. D U R H A M

SUJIKAI MANSEI

BRIDGE

$ujikai Manseibashi no Ba vc i

i , s