For the time being, I am with Macmillan. But I fancy really that all publishers regard authors merely as units in a calculation,—excepting the great guns who, like Kipling, can force strong respect. I need scarcely tell you that my books do not make me rich. In fact, I have given up thinking about the business side of literature, and am quite content to obtain the privilege of having my book produced according to my notion of things. Still, by reason of various translations into Swedish, Danish, German and French, I have some literary encouragements.
I believe you know that I have three boys: they are sturdy lads all—though the eldest is rather too gentle up to date. I live altogether in Old Japan, outside of lecture-hours; and might think myself lucky, but for that “Ah-ness of things.” Of course, I have become somewhat old—it is more than twelve years since I saw you! And then I have had to learn a multitude unspeakable of unpleasant things. But, as they say here, Shikata ga nai! There’s no help for that!
Japan is changing rapidly, as you can imagine; and the changes are not beautiful. I try to keep within fragments of the old atmosphere—that linger here and there, like those bands of morning-coloured mist which you have seen spanning Japanese pictures. Within these wreaths of the lifting mirage, all is Fairy-land still; and my home will always have its atmosphere of thousands of years ago. But in the raw light outside, the changings are ugly and sad.
Ever faithfully,
Y. Koizumi.
TO MRS. WETMORE
Tōkyō, November, 1902.
Dear Mrs. Wetmore,— ... I have had your beautiful letter in my drawer for about a week, before daring to re-read it. And I have been thinking in circles,—about how to answer it.
For—O fairy! what have you dared to say? I am quite sure that I do not know anything about Japanese art, or literature, or ethnology, or politics, or history. (You did not say “politics” or “history,” however, and that seems to be what is wanted.) But perhaps you know what I know better than I myself know,—or perhaps you can give me to eat a Fairy Apple of Knowledge. At present I have no acquaintance even with the Japanese language: I cannot read a Japanese newspaper; and I have learned only enough, even of the kana, to write a letter home. I cannot lie—to my Fairy: therefore it is essential that I make the following declaration:—