Introduction
The literature of the Tokugawa period might be said to have begun with Confucianism. The special character of this literature was prefigured by an event of 1599. In that year, Fujiwara Seika (1561-1619), a twelfth-generation descendant of the great Fujiwara Teika, at the request of the warlord Akamatsu Hidemichi, punctuated some of the Chinese classics for reading in Japanese. This was not the first introduction of Confucianism to Japan–Confucian studies had of course been pursued in Japan since the sixth and seventh centuries A.D. at the latest–but never before had the correct way of reading the classics been made available to persons who were not in a select circle of disciples. “Knowledge of the Confucian texts was transmitted as esoteric learning and was a rare privilege, open only to the chosen few, at times only to members of the Kiyohara and Nakahara families” (Webb 19). This manner of transmission was typical of Japan, where the secrets of each branch of art and learning tended to be passed down from father to oldest son or from master to senior disciple, rather than made available for all to study. The insistence on lineage was as truer of Confucian scholars as of Shingon monks or Waka poets. Often the secrets that were so jealously guarded proved, when they were finally revealed, to be no more than trivia. (Kōjin 66-68)
Nevertheless, without knowledge of the secrets, no man could count himself a full-fledged master, whether of Confucianism, the Way of Poetry, or the Way of Nō. When Fujiwara Seika broke the tradition of secrecy, even to the limited extent of punctuating texts, he was in effect ending medieval traditions and opening the way to the popular that would typify the Tokugawa period.
Other men, inspired by Seika’s example, followed him in the work of enlightenment. In 1603 Hayashi Razan, who had been studying the Ch’eng-Chu texts of Neo-Confucianism at the Kenninji, a Zen monastery in Kyoto, decided to offer public lectures for the benefit of young Confucian scholars and physicians. Razan, though he was later to be known as among the most conservative of Neo-Confucian philosophers, was enthusiastic about non esoteric transmission of learning, possibly as the result of influence from his teacher, Fujiwara Seika. He persuaded Matsunaga Teitoku (1571-1643), a scholar of Japanese literature, to join him in the public lectures. Teitoku was reluctant to take the unprecedented step of lecturing publicly on teachings which he had privately received, and only after Razan’s father and uncle had joined in the persuasion, urging Teitoku to make Razan’s experiment respectable by participating, did he at last consent. The texts that Teitoku lectured on, Tsurezuregusa (Essays in Idleness) and Hyakunin isshu (One Hundred Poems by One Hundred Poets), would be of enormous importance in the education carried out in the Tokugawa period, but until this time they had been relatively little known, largely because of the secrecy with which the commentaries had been transmitted.
Of course, the new approach to learning represented by the public lectures did not put an end to the secret traditions, but the characteristic literary arts of the Tokugawa period were remarkably free of the old secrecy. Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694), for example, left no secrets to his chosen disciples, though some were later forged; furthermore, in contrast to Nō, with its many closely guarded secrets, the plays of Chikamatsu Monzaemon (1653-1725) were transmitted without an aura of mystery. Although much of Tokugawa literature, especially during the first half of the period, was written by members of the samurai class, it was prevailingly popular, and the social status of writers was not of great importance when it came to receiving and transmitting knowledge of how to write or perform the texts.
Confucianism and Tokugawa Culture
It may seem strange that Confucianism should have driven the first wedge into the medieval tradition of secrecy. The Tokugawa regime, with its mania for orderliness, had looked to Confucianism to maintain the existing state of things; but Hayashi Razan, though he soon afterward became a lecturer to Tokugawa leyasu, was (initially at least) so enthusiastic about Neo-Confucian texts that he wished to encourage all capable men to study them and to “investigate things” in the manner advocated by the founders of Neo-Confucianism.
Confucianism assumed many forms in Tokugawa literature. First of all, it was an integral part of Chinese culture which enjoyed such enormous prestige at the time. Works written by Japanese which incorporated Chinese themes generally contained an admixture of Confucianism. The extreme respect for Chinese letters was most pronounced in the poetry and prose which Japanese wrote in classical Chinese. The composition of Kanshi (Chinese verse), which continued well into the Meiji era, was of as great importance to Tokugawa scholars as writing Waka had been to the Heian courtiers. A good Kanshi, even if it contained no doctrinal message, had to reveal familiarity with Chinese literature by means of allusions that evoked a kind of resonance and gave depth to the poet’s words. The Japanese tried imagining themselves as Chinese gendemen-scholars of the past. However little inclined a man might be to writing poetry, he felt obliged to live up to his role of gentleman-scholar and to demonstrate his proficiency at handling Chinese metrics and rhyme. Insofar as his compositions were not merely exercises, the sentiments expressed, appropriate to a Confucianist who knew no taint of worldly gain, were serene. (Mair 19-25)
A Japanese who wrote classical Chinese, when not seeking to create an impression of dignity, would sometimes parody his subjects by treating familiar Japanese materials in the imposing language of the Chinese classics. The Japanese were, of course, well aware that Chinese literature included not only the works of philosophy and history which the Confucians rated at the summit of literature, but poetry that expressed emotions of a kind not generally associated with Confucian philosophy. Indeed, some Japanese also knew works of popular Chinese literature, even pornography, but this knowledge rarely intruded into the patterns of thought of Japanese intellectuals. Rather in the manner of some contemporary Japanese who, even if they know Western literature, suppose that the Europeans and Americans, unlike themselves, are dispassionately rational in affairs of the heart, the Japanese of the Tokugawa period tended to think of the Chinese as learned and eminently dignified but lacking in Japanese spontaneity. Confucian philosophy, insofar as it openly appears in Tokugawa literature, tends to be cold rather than warm, appealing to the intellect rather than the heart.
Confucian sentiments, in diluted or distinctively Japanese adaptations, are found in many varieties of Tokugawa literature. Perhaps the most striking examples are in the plays of Chikamatsu, which have often been described in terms of the principles of giri (duty) and ninjō (human feelings) which they are said to embody. “These terms, though borrowed from Chinese and considered to be essential elements of Confucian teachings, acquired strongly Japanese meanings”. (Webb 64). Minamoto Ryōen has distinguished two varieties of giri, the first being the natural human response to another person’s kindness, the second a “cold” giri which often is based on the fear of what people may think or is dictated by an awareness of obligations that have to be carried out, much though they go against natural feelings. The conflict between social obligations and personal desires is indeed a conspicuous feature of Chikamatsu’s plays, but however strong the claims of giri may be, human feelings always triumph over other considerations. That is why so many of Chikamatsu’s plays end with the death of the protagonists; the only lasting victories of ninjō are in the “other world.”
Conclusion
In late-Tokugawa drama, notably the Kabuki plays written by Tsuruya Nanboku, the traclusionditional values, including giri and loyalty, are parodied, a reflection of the general decline of morals and ideals. In Nanboku’s plays there is not even the surface attempt to promote kanzen chōaku (encouragement of virtues and chastisement of vice) that is found in the novels of Bakin and other contemporary writers. His plays suggest instead a moral collapse that reveals itself in the perverse pleasure Nanboku takes in drawing moustaches on the poster art of Confucian ideals. Nanboku’s most famous play, Tōkaidiō Yotsuya kaidan (Ghost Story of Yotsuya on the Tōkaidō), was intended to be performed in conjunction with Chūshingura. The performances were spread out over two days; on the first day, the actors performed half of Chūshingura plus the first three acts of Ghost Story, and on the second day, the remainder of both plays. The effect of such a performance must have been to cast doubts on the ideals of Chūshingura by presenting, in a much closer and more realistic manner than the older work, the lives of retainers when they were not busy avenging their lord. (Gordon 122-130)
If one had to judge by the Kabuki dramas written during the late Tokugawa period, the Confucian ideals were dead; but even when they were most conspicuously ridiculed in the theater, they continued to affect the lives of most Japanese. The theater is a mirror of society, but it may magnify, diminish, or hopelessly distort. The one thing one can say with certainty is that as long as something appears in the mirror, no matter how crooked or warped, it still exists in society and has compelled the attention of the makers of mirrors.
Works Cited
Gordon, Andrew. A Modern History of Japan: From Tokugawa Times to the Present; New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.
Kōjin, Karatani. and Bary, Brett. Origins of Modern Japanese Literature; Durham, NCDuke University Press, 1993.
Mair, Victor. The Columbia History of Chinese Literature; New York: Columbia University Press, 2001.
Webb, Herschel. The Japanese Imperial Institution in the Tokugawa Period; New York: Columbia University Press, 1968.